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GROWING UP ON WELFARE: Selective Memories of a
Debtor (#6)
Hometown
Lessons on Racial Prejudice.
"You
are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you
who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.
There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for
you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you
are Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise"
(Galatians 3:26-29 NIV).
I
grew up in a small town tucked into the northwest corner of the
State of Illinois. Because it was not far from the Southern boarder
of Wisconsin, and even closer to the eastern side of Iowa, one might
expect that in such a conservative enclave of the north racial
tension would be practically unknown, and that would be right;
though the reason may be a surprise.
It seemed out of regional character at the time, but we
actually had one of the largest concentrations of Hispanics per
square mile, east of the Mississippi river. This was so because of
several large industrial plants, and a large seasonal vegetable
canning operation. Following WWII, the need for low cost labor
brought a flood of Mexican immigrants to our rather isolated corner
of the upper mid-west. I grew up along side, and in the same
general neighborhood, as the children of those immigrants.
The best I can recall from my childhood, no one seemed to mind
that we all played together, and went to the same school together.
I do recall some trouble associated with dating, and though our
neighborhoods were close together, the “Mexicans” usually lived in
tighter proximity to one another. I’ll come back to this later.
In point-of-fact, I grew up in two towns at the same time.
Both shared a common boarder with the river that ran between the two
small cities, and each had its own separate government, but the
people were directly connected, and moved freely between the two
towns.
There was however one difference, one big difference as it
turned out. The difference was the fact that in my small city there
were no “negroes” (as they were then called), while in the city on
the other side there were some, though not very many. I grew up
thinking this was so because the city on the other side of the river
was slightly larger, and where most of the factories (hence more
jobs) were located. I was seventeen years old when I discovered the
real reason.
That reason became the focus of a major event in our small town
during the summer of 1963, and just prior to one of our city’s
favorite fall festivals, known locally as the “Aunt Jemima Pancake
Days”. For years, young and old alike had looked forward to a great
fall pancake festival accompanied by the visitation of a wonderfully
impressive black woman known to all of the school children as “Aunt
Jemima.” During the two or three days of the festival she made
visits to the local schools, churches and civic groups where she
gave cooking demonstrations, and extolled the virtues of the “Aunt
Jemima” brand. She also gave inspirational talks (including a
testimony of her Christian faith), sang and then distributed samples
of the pancake mix which most of us young people thought she
invented and owned.
The fall of 1963 was when I discovered that not only was Aunt
Jemima not the inventor and owner of the brand that bore her name,
actually there was no “Aunt Jemima,” and the lady whom we thought
her to be would not be coming to our town that year. At first the
word spread that the annual festival had been cancelled, and then
that it would go on, but without Aunt Jemima. As far as most of us
were concerned, it would not be a festival without her.
The “Aunt Jemima I knew as a child was in all probability
Ethel Ernestine Harper (1903 - 1979). “[Ms] Harper was Aunt Jemima
during the 1950s [and into the very early years of the 1960s]. She
was also the final ‘living person’ basis for the Aunt Jemima image
until it was changed to a composite in the 1960s. She worked as a
traveling ‘Aunt Jemima’ on behalf of the Quaker company, giving
presentations at schools, churches and other organizations. Prior to
assuming the role, Harper graduated from college at the age of 17
and had become a teacher.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Short_Harrington.
Of course, none of the kids I grew up with knew any of this.
We were equally ignorant of the reasons behind the NAACP’s 1963
boycott of her appearance in our city. Only as an adult did I learn
the actual reason.
It was not because there were no “negroes” living on our side
of the river that the boycott was pressed, but rather “why” there
were none. The why had to do with a holdover of the obnoxious
“Black Laws” (as they were known in the north). Such laws were
widespread in Illinois from the early 1800’s through the beginning
of the 1960s. While some may find it difficult to think of Illinois
as a state harboring strong racial prejudice, the truth is, it was.
Right up to the time of Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, it
was illegal for “a person of one quarter or more negro blood” to
live within the boarders of the State of Illinois...the state that
gave the nation Abraham Lincoln! As it turned out, even such a
great national nightmare as the Civil War, failed to eradicate all
of the “Black Laws” in Illinois and neighboring northern states.
Fast forward little more than one hundred years from the end of
the American Civil War to the fall of 1963, and the reason why there
were no black persons living in my little home town becomes known.
It was not because they preferred the city across the river; it was
because there was still on the books a remnant of the old Black Laws
which prohibited a “negro” from remaining within the city limits
between the hours of sunset to sunrise. As it turned out, the
little northern city that so loved Aunt Jemima during the daylight
hours of the annual Pancake Festival also wanted her out of town at
sunset.
As a seventeen year old, I thought it an outrage that she had
been prevented from coming by some “trouble making” folk from
Chicago. Only much later as an adult, did I come to understand that
the real outrage was being perpetrated not by folk from Chicago, but
by the folk in my own hometown.
How did the “Mexicans” fit into this picture? As noted
earlier, there did not seem to be any real difference between “us”
and “them” except when we it came to dating. That’s when we started
to understand the difference between “us” and “them.”
The year following the NAACP boycott, something changed in the
law (I suppose the Black Law prohibiting “negroes” from remaining
within the city limits between sunset and sunrise was ruled
unconstitutional. Whatever the actual cause of the change, at the
start of the next school year (1964), our high school welcomed its
first black student. There was only one, and he was not actually
“black” as they said, but Puerto Rican. I think some called him a
"mulatto."
I do not believe I ever knew his first or last name, but I will
not forget that he was nicknamed “Buckwheat.” He was a fine person,
good natured, well mannered, and did not appear to resent his
nickname (that was ignorance on the part of his classmates).
Everyone seemed to think it a great adventure. I never met his
parents, but as I recall, they found a home in an “acceptable”
neighborhood…the Mexican part of town.
Not long after, I enlisted in the United States Navy, and did
not return to live in my home town for eighteen years, at which time
I was privileged to serve on the pastoral staff at the church of my
childhood. At that time, there was circulating around the nation a
stir over the issue of the name by which Mexican Americans preferred
to be known. Titles in contention (as I recall) were Mexicans,
Mexican-Americans, Latinos, Chicanos, and Hispanics.
These titles were a puzzle to me because growing up we knew
them simply as Sanchez, Lopez, Rodriquez, Garcia, etc. Frankly, I
don’t think many of us thought of them as anything other. That too
was a byproduct of our youthful ignorance (though not necessarily a
bad one). The facts among the adults were quite different.
“Buckwheat’s” family settled in the Mexican neighborhood
because that was, in the opinion of a majority of the adults in our
community, where “they” belonged. On the surface, Mexicans were
more acceptable than blacks, but deeply held notions about race
caused many “whites” to consider both groups inferior (though in
different measures).
As a pastor and Christian educator, I have come to better
understand the ugly reality of racial prejudice. I have also come
to understand how politely subtle it can be in public, all the while
being deeply imbedded in the private thinking of the “us” class.
There are two fundamental flaws in the genesis of racial
prejudice (both being defective absurdities). These are: 1. I am
superior because of my race. 2. I am superior because of my
intellect. Let us consider each.
The first is superiority by reason of race. Race is a physical
aspect. Yes, there are those who in some aspects of their physical
makeup enjoy superior attributes. But these aspects are actually
individual not racial. Even twins do not always share the same
physical attributes. Furthermore, the whole idea of some physical
aspect being superior is highly subjective and dependent on some
arbitrary qualifying factor. For example, unusual height may be an
asset if you are a college basketball player, but if you are a
wrestler the extreme height becomes a liability.
However, even if one race could claim some “general”
superiority that would in no way be a cause for believing one race
superior over another. This is because human beings are not
essentially a physical entity. Human beings are essentially a
spiritual being. One may, through disease or accident, lose a leg
or an arm or even both arms and legs. In such a case would that
person become less of the “person” he was before the loss?
Here is a way to make the point. Let us suggest a perfectly
normal man working at a minimum wage job is terribly injured in an
accident and subsequently loses both legs. During the time of his
recovery, he invents some new prosthetic device that when patented
earns him a fortune. Will the Internal Revenue Service consider
him, let us say, only three fifths of the person he was prior to the
accident and therefore levy his tax rate at two fifths less than a
person making the same amount of money but possessing both legs?
This can be considered another way. Will a parent love a child
some percentage less if they lose an eye, a hand, or a foot?
Certainly not! On the contrary, love is often deepened in such
cases! This is so because the “person” is not the physical body, but
rather a spirit which transcends the body.
Furthermore, all human beings are essentially of one body, and
one race (the human race). Yes, there are external, even genetic
differences, but these are of so little consequence, that they can
be melted away in but a few generations following inner racial
marriage.
Supposed Intellectual superiority is an equally absurd reason
for racial prejudice. History records the contributions of all
peoples to the great advances of the human race. Furthermore,
intellect is an even more subjective measure of supposed superiority
than physical attributes. The only human being with a perfect
intellect who has ever lived was Jesus Christ. The rest of us are
filled with many defects. Superiority in one area is balanced by
inferiority in another.
It is also the case that human beings are not essentially
intelligence, we are spirit, and spirit is free from the
disadvantages and limitations of intelligence. Beautiful bodies and
superior intellects are rarely found in equal proportions in human
beings, while an unimpressive body and imperfect intellect are no
hindrance to the possibility of being a perfectly wonderful person
with a truly beautiful spirit.
Finally, there is an even more profound reason why racial
prejudice is a logical absurdity, and that is the fact that we are
not a consequence of our own choosing. No person can claim to have
made a conscious decision to be. That is, to have been born who,
what, when and where by one’s own choosing. If one is an atheist
then being is the consequence of chance. If one is a Biblical
Theist, then being is a gift from God. In either case being is not
caused by one’s self-determination.
Therefore, for anyone to look down on another due to the
condition of their racial extraction is nothing short of hubris
equal to an ignorant arrogance of the most absurd sort. One might
easier defend the notion that warts come from toads than to
logically defend the notion of a “right” to be racially prejudice.
To be proud (in a proper sense) of one’s racial extraction may be
fine, but only when it is balanced by a humble recognition that it
was not self-determined.
Racial prejudice, as illogical as it may be, is a reality of
human existence. However, there is a cure for it, and it involves a
radical identity transformation. You have probably noticed that
this article started with a quote from Galatians 3:26-29. The “you”
in these verses refers to the truly born again. “You” then are
identified as “sons” of God meaning that “through faith in Christ”
the “you” have been adopted into a new family. “Sons” is not a
gender limiting term which is evidenced by the gender elimination in
the next sentence (“there is neither…male or female”). To be a
“son” one must have a father. If a father has more than one son
such are then brothers. Having the same father and having a brother
by that father makes one a member of that family.
The reason there is neither “Jew nor Greek, slave nor free,
male nor female” is because such terms identify those outside of a
family. The truly born again are, according to St. Paul, “all one
in Christ Jesus.” Furthermore, being equals they share in the same
inheritance of the Father as “heirs according to the promise.”
Being born into the family of God means a radical identity
transformation. That is why in times not too distant, nearly all
Christians referred to one another as brother or sister. It is
still the practice in many places where the family of God gathers,
especially for Sunday worship.
In a very real sense, at the moment we are born again, we
abandon our old identity through a radical transformation of our
spirit by the Spirit. Such a transformation cannot “not”
touch every aspect of our life. That touch may not be fully
realized at the moment of conversion, but it will not fail in making
the transformation known.
One may argue that so-called Christians have and do
harbor strong racial prejudice. That may be so, but one cannot know
if they were truly born again or not. What is clear is that the
most powerful foe of racial prejudice in the entire world is a truly
born again son or daughter of God. It is very hard for the sons and
daughters of God to not possess familial affections for member of
their own family, especially when they understand that they are
going to live eternally with them in their Father’s house (John
14:1-4).
In case I have failed to make myself clear, permit me to close
with the quote from one far better equipped to say it without
equivocation of any kind. "You are all sons of God through faith
in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have
clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek,
slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ
Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham's seed, and
heirs according to the promise" (Galatians 3:26-29 NIV). The
born-again have undergone a radical identity transformation!
ddf
June
2010
Week 06/6
Week 06/20
Digging
for Hope in the Form of a Dead Cat.
I cannot recall his name, but I shall never forget what he looked
like the three times I dug him up. Sometime after starting the
second grade my cat died. His undiagnosed illness and life
were terminated
along with his life when my dear mother in a desperate attempt to
save him, gave the little feline a couple of aspirins. She thought
it might help him. We used aspirin for almost every kind of
illness, so it just seemed natural that it might help my cat. Today
it is better known that aspirin will kill a cat.
I had a hard time accepting
that he was dead. I asked for and received permission to bury him,
but hid him for a day just in case he came back to life. Eventually,
I dug a hole next to a fence post, and placed him in a sandy grave. Every morning before heading
off to school, I’d check to see if perhaps he had awakened, and dug
his way out of the ground, but I never found the slightest sign of
disturbance by which to gain hope.
Two things were especially
troubling to me. God had not yet answered prayer for my
cat’s resurrection, and winter was fast approaching. I still had
hope that God might come through, but I knew that if my cat spent a
northwestern Illinois winter in the ground he’d never have a chance.
So, I kept on praying, and
one afternoon when my mother and older brother were away from the
house, I dug
up the cat, and moved him into a new grave which I had prepared in
the crawl space under our little rented house. Actually, I was
quite hopeful. His body was dried out, but his fur still looked
good, and he held together in one piece when I moved him.
My plan was for him to have
at least one more chance to come back to life in the relative warmth
and dryness of the sand under the house. I located him
directly beneath where I slept, and reasoned that if God answered prayer
at night, I would hear my cat’s familiar meow, and be ready to bring
him inside.
As I now recall, I gave God
and my cat about a month or so, and when nothing happened, I decided
to have another look. Carefully exhuming his little body, I
discovered that there seemed to be less of him than before.
Weeks later. I
repeated this admittedly strange ritual one more time; the results
being sufficient to finally convince me that my cat was not going to
come back to life. Nevertheless, for some years following, whenever
I saw a black and white spotted cat wandering around, I’d get a
little start, and give it a good looking over. No cat ever measured
up.
Lessons Learned Then for
Which I am Today Indebted.
I learned that a cat
really only has one life. I learned that God does not have to
answer every prayer of every little boy…no matter how badly they
wish it. I learned that even mother’s may make honest mistakes when
trying to do the right thing. I also learned that when a thing has
died, it is best to leave it buried. Digging up the past is not an
expression of hopefulness; it is an admission of helplessness.
ddf
Learning
to Fish With Trash.
Most boys like fishing. If
taught correctly during adolescence, fishing often remains a
life-long form of genuinely satisfying recreation. It used to be
said that anyone too busy to go fishing was too busy.
When I was a boy the fact
that I did not have a father to teach me how to fish did nothing to
repress my want to go fishing, so I did the next best thing. During
the summer I’d sneak down to the old
Hennepin Canal, and watch
men, teenagers and fortunate boys as they fished for bullheads,
bluegills and carp.
The Hennepin was the
remnant of a commercially failed attempt to link the Illinois and
Mississippi rivers for the purpose of barge traffic. The spur that
was fed from the Rock River in my home town ("the canal” as it was
known in those days), had a reputation for being the kind of a place
that unsupervised boys were to avoid. The canal's unguarded and
deceptively placid water along with with its muddy bottom had
claimed many lives. Added to this was the other side of its
reputation as a “drinking hole.” That’s why I had to “sneak” down
to watch the fishing.
The canal was a treasure
trove of trash. There was no green movement during those days, and
many places along the canal served as unofficial dumping grounds.
Added to the trash were unknown miles of tangled fishing line which
often included perfectly good bobbers, hooks and weights. The
bushes and trees nearest the better fishing spots were decorated
with these underappreciated resources. On a much higher level of
value was the occasional broken fishing pole.
And so it was to my good
fortune during the summer of the tenth year of my life that I
discovered a green fiberglass fishing rod of about five feet in
length broken cleanly out of its handle, and lying as if a gift from
heaven on the grassy bank. Since I had been serving a kind of
apprenticeship as an anxious observer of the art of fishing, I knew
how to take advantage of my bonanza.
From nearby bushes and
trees, I gleaned fishing line, lead weights, hooks and a good
bobber. Overturning logs and rocks, I picked earthworms and placed
them in an empty can. Having then rigged my outfit in an acceptable
manner, I stepped up to the bank like a proper fisherman. Seconds
later my heart began to race as the bobber danced excitedly before
being pulled under. With a reflexive jerk I cried out in
unrestrained joy as a fine bluegill of at least a full four inches
became air born and landed on the bank.
My right of passage was
crowned that afternoon upon my return home when mother praised my
catch, and mercifully gave off the distinct impression that she did
not care to know exactly where I had been fishing. Subsequent trips
served to sharpen my angling skills, as well as to refine my
discernment as a collector of recyclable fishing tackle. To this
day, I get a satisfying sense of accomplishment when brining home a
nice mess of fish. Though I have long since been richly
privileged to have caught a wide variety of fishes from both fresh
and salt water, nothing gives me more pleasure to catch and eat a
fine stringer of bluegills. Another thing that has stayed
with me is an almost irrepressible need to salvage good hooks, lead
weights, and bobbers discarded by careless or unfortunate fishermen.
Lessons Learned Then for
Which I am Today Indebted.
I learned that if you are
resourceful, thrifty, and not too proud, you can do a lot of things
with the stuff others leave behind. The old adage that “one man’s
trash is another man’s treasure” has a lot of truth in it. I
learned that a fish does not know whether the hook, line, bobber or
pole is new, used or reclaimed trash. Perhaps the most gratifying
lesson I learned is that God created fish in such a way so as to
keep them from knowing anything about the age or social status of
the angler. Children rich or poor can catch fish as well as
millionaires, generals or even presidents. In the Bible we
read that “God is no respecter of persons,” and I am very thankful
that neither are the fish that He created.
ddf
May
2010
Week 05/2
Week of 5/9
Week 5/23
GROWING UP ON WELFARE: Selective Memories of a Debtor (#3)
Running
Away from Home on a Spooky Night.
I was
about twelve years old when my mother got the word of being approved
to move into the government housing project. We had been on
the waiting list for a long time, and by our way of thinking, it was
a big step up. For the first time, we would have a regular
bath tub with both hot and cold running water (no more sharing a #3
washtub filled with water heated on a gas stove). There were
lots of other high grade perks too, like a real tile deck on the
first floor with concrete underneath, two bedrooms upstairs, and a
side room off the downstairs kitchen where mother could store her
ringer washing machine. The place even had a cushy sounding
name – Coloma Court.
With all
that relative wealth coming our way I should have been happy.
In fact I was, until about a week before the move. That’s when
I discovered that dogs were not allowed in Coloma Court. I
pitched a fit…the kind of a fit that twelve year old boys without a
father are known to throw from time-to-time. I focused on the
wretched injustice. Everyone else seemed to be focusing on the
insignificant…such as moving out of our tiny shack of a place into a
two-floor housing project apartment with a playground where kids
could swing, ride a merry-go-round, and fight right out in the open.
Consequently, I did the only thing a fellow in my position could do.
I planned to run away from home. I explained the whole thing
to my dog, and from the look on his face, he seemed to understand
more about my agony than even my mother. I don’t recall my
brother being too broken up about it. That may have been a
byproduct of having taught my dog the neat trick of lunging for my
brother whenever he tried to beat me up.
The
composition of the lot behind our little house was sand. In
fact, everything was sand around our place. Without anyone the
wiser, I dug a fine fort of about four feet wide, and of equal
depth. I kept it secret by laying old board and plywood over
the top, then covering the whole thing with sand, limbs and picked
weeds. I did this rather expertly since in my neighborhood any
fort that was not well camouflaged was doomed to discovery and
destruction by jealous rivals.
The night
before the move, I slipped out the back door, and along with my dog
headed a distance of probably not more than 150 feet to my secret
hideaway. I had already provisioned it with matches, candles,
a jar of water, a few food items, and a little dog food. The
kind-of plan was to live there for a couple of days, and then
after I was forgotten, to strike out for some place where a boy and
his dog were wanted. But the deep-down goal was to make
everyone so heartbroken at my departure that they would see the
folly of their ways, and let me keep my dog.
Sometime
during the night, mother discovered I was missing. I could
hear her calling, and kept my hand over my dog’s muzzle to keep him
from unwittingly betraying our location. Soon after, my
brother started calling. That’s probably when my dog let out a
little growl. My pastor and his wife lived not far away, and
soon they joined in the chorus of calling. With rising hope, I
smirked, thinking how worried they must be. Some time passed
before law enforcement arrived. Later I learned that my
brother gave them the location of all my forts located on the canal
and creek not too far away. I could hear adults talking, cars
coming and going, but I remained resolute.
It must
have been sometime during the early morning hours that the other
noises of the night, noises not connected with the search for a
missing boy, and the inevitable longing to be back in my own bed
cast a rather worrisome pall over my mind. My dog grew
restless, and the effects of hiding in a damp sand pit for the
better part of the night were beginning to weaken my resolve.
I poked my head out. As I looked toward my house, the light
from the back porch sent out an oddly welcoming glow. No sound
from the house. Mother had stopped calling hours before.
Had they given up on finding me? Had they forgotten me so
soon?
Eventually, it was Spooky who drove me up, out of the sand pit, and
racing toward home. My dog was a rather small all-black mix
of dubious Beagle and Labrador ancestry. His name was Spooky,
and Spooky wanted to go home, lie down on his blanket, and go to
sleep. He could not know that his fate was sealed, and there would
be nothing I nor anyone else could do to change it.
A few days
later, we move “up” to Coloma Court. I never saw Spooky again.
For months after, I would call his name out to just about every
little all-black dog I saw. I often walked back to our old
house hoping vainly to see him lying at his watch spot near the
door. Over time, I stopped calling, and stopped hoping.
Time heals
a lot of wounds. It does not heal all wounds, but it heals
many, and eventually I forgot about Spooky. Yes, on some
occasions I would recall how much fun we had together, and how much
I had loved him, but the hurt was gone. Only as an adult was I
able to understand the painful decision my mother was forced to make
in order to improve the living conditions for her two boys.
She did the right thing. In fact, she did more than she ever
told me.
Thirty-six
years later, I was granted the extraordinary honor of serving as a
staff pastor in the church of my childhood. One of the retired
ministers on the volunteer staff was the pastor who had helped to
try and find me on the night of my short-lived disappearance.
A member also of the church was his son, a man about fifteen years
older than me. During one of our “remember when’s,” I learned
a few things I had not known. From my dear old pastor I
learned that a significant number of law enforcement officers had
searched throughout that night hoping to not find me a victim of the
muddy bottom and dangerous waters of the creek and canal where they
thought me to be hiding. It pained me to think of the trouble
I had causes everyone.
I learned
another thing that I had not known. The pastor’s son, a fine
and gentle man, as well as an avid sportsman, had promised my mother
to give Spooky a good home. The day we moved “up,” so had
Spooky. He was given his own regular dog house, had the run of
the place, and turned out to be, in the words of his new master,
“One of the finest hunting dogs I have ever know.” It seems
that Spooky really must have been of Beagle and Labrador blood.
I was thrilled to learn that he lived a long life, and hunted
faithfully to the very end.
You might
wonder why neither my mother, nor anyone else, had told me about
Spooky’s new home. I don’t. Knowing my personality at
the time, I would have found a way to visit Spooky, and in so doing,
spoiled his chances to forget me, and to bond with a master who
could give him a life far better than living in a housing project
apartment with not even enough of a yard to chain a dog.
Lessons Learned Then for Which I am Today Indebted. I
learned another thing. I learned that God is not obligated to
make clear to His children the wisdom His ways. Many of His
ways are beyond our knowing at the time they happen, and some are
just beyond our knowing…in this life. But by-and-by, when we
are with Him and in our glorified state infinitely more mature than
now, we shall see the good that was in all His ways, and we shall
never leave home again.
ddf
GROWING UP ON WELFARE: Selective Memories of a Debtor (#2)
A
Rolling TV Can Distort
Reality.
We finally
got our own television when I was about ten or eleven years old.
As I recall, my brother (who is four years older), deserves the
credit. Being of a sharp eye, and always on the lookout for a
good deal, Roger came upon a TV sitting in a stack of junk.
Good thing he did, for had he missed it by even a few hours, our TV
might have been trashed. Fortunately, this discarded piece of
the American dream was rescued, and found new life in a home that
understood how to appreciate such things.
It was not
too big. In fact, it was just about the right size to fit into
a house of probably not more than 500 square feet. Some of the
knobs were missing from the dials, although that presented no
problem because these could be turned with a pair of pliers.
Of course, we did not have an outside antenna, but the two broken
rabbit ears in the back worked well enough to get two channels
providing you kept the end of a coat hanger stuck down inside
one of the holes in either of the broken ends. The picture was
acceptably bright, especially with all the lights turned off.
The sound (the way we figured), was good enough for even a king.
Watching
the picture itself took a bit of adjustment. During the first
five or ten minutes, that TV was as about as good as any, but after
it warmed up, the picture started rolling. It would roll
vertically from bottom to top. Once it started, there was no
stopping it. As I recall, it made one complete roll every two
seconds or so.
At first,
it was hard to concentrate, but once you got the hang of how to
watch it, you could get through an hour or so of somewhat otherwise
torturous viewing fairly easily. The trick was to roll with
the picture. One could acquire the necessary skill by rolling
the eyes or bobbing the head. The best way was to master the
fine art of coordinated eye rolling and head bobbing done at the
same time.
The only
consequence of owning a TV like that, came when you turned it off.
For nearly an half hour afterward, everything else you looked at
started rolling too! It was hilariously funny, because faces,
walls, trees, or anything else you looked at appeared to be rolling
from bottom to top. What happened was that distortion had
temporarily become reality, and then for a short while afterward,
reality became distorted.
Lessons Learned Then for Which I am Today Indebted. I
learned that there is generally a reason why people throw things
away. I learned that it really is true that "beggars can't be
choosers." I learned that if you want a thing badly enough
that you cannot afford, you may have to be willing to accept a
distorted sense of reality in order to have it. I learned that
if you accept distortion as reality for even a short while, and then
try to turn away from it, it may take you a while to get things back
to normal. I also learned that there really is such a thing as
"a pain in the neck, and a sight for sore eyes."
ddf
GROWING UP ON WELFARE: Selective Memories of a Debtor (#1)
Fences
Were a Good Place to Find a Lunch Sack.
In1956,
most ten year-old boys like myself took a lunch to school that had
been fixed at home by their mother. Moms of the
better-off kids crowded it into a fancy lunch pail often festooned
with pictures of some TV icon. Exceptionally blessed fifth
graders enjoyed the added bonus of a built-in thermos filled with
some hot or cold beverage. For those lucky little souls, the
menu usually included a baloney sandwich on soft white bread, potato
chips, fruit cocktail (which sometimes went uneaten), and cookies or
a chocolate cupcake (which never went uneaten).
Most of
the regular kids, or those whose mothers were more frugal, ate from
a similar menu, but carried it in a neat little tan paper bag of
just the right size. Sometimes they carried a thermos too, or
just bought cold milk from the school office. Not me.
I carried
my lunch like the rest, but that's where the similarities ended.
No thermos, no goodies, and no milk money. I did have a nice
white bread sandwich, and between the slices a prudently sized slab
of soft yellow cheese (kind of like Velveeta, but not the real
brand). We got a government issued substitute that looked like
a tinfoil covered brick. I don't know if it tasted the same,
because we never had any of the real stuff to compare it with.
No matter, once it was securely nested in the bread, you wouldn't
have been able to tell the difference anyway, (and that was an
important point in the lunch room). Usually, I also got an
apple or whatever fruit was in season, and it never went uneaten.
Once ready
for transport, Mother neatly packed my lunch into a regular sized
used grocery sack with the top half cut off (it folded easier that
way). Lunch only rarely arrived at school in its
original container. It took a little bit of ingenuity, but I
learned how to transform an irregular looking lunch into a regular
lunch.
I usually
headed out early, as I needed the extra time to check the fences on
the way to Merrill School. Growing up in the windy
northwestern corner of Illinois proved a blessing to a boy needing
to up-grade a lunch sack. Almost always, a sharp-eyed fellow
could find a right-sized sack blown by the wind into a fence.
You'd be surprised how nice a bag found like that can look after it
has been smoothed out. It was good stewardship too. I
always left behind a perfectly good cut down used grocery sack to
replace the one I took. Believe me; arriving on the school
playground with a proper lunch sack was very important to one's
social standing.
Lessons Learned Then for Which I am Today Indebted. I
learned that my mother and God were not to be blamed for everything.
She was doing the best she could with what she had, and God was
giving me the gift of not having everything I wanted.
Consequently, I learned how to be self-reliant, and not to expect
others to give me what I did not have. I learned how to
improvise. I learned that no matter how hard you try, you
don't always get what you are after (especially when it rains, snows
or the wind stops blowing). I also learned that if you live
long enough, not having what was popular at the time may eventually
prove to have been a blessing. As it turns out, apples
and cheese sandwiches aren't considered junk food.
ddf
April
2010
Week
04/4
Week 4/11
Week 4/18
Week 4/25
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 8 of 8)
Many Christians agree that their favorite story of Jesus during the
forty days following His resurrection is the account of Peter’s
reinstatement of rank among the disciples. This event,
recorded in John chapter 21, takes up all but the final verse of
this last chapter of that Gospel. In twenty-four wonderful
verses, John tells how Jesus performs His second and final miracle
of the fishing nets, and how this led to Peter’s reinstatement.
The great old Gospel hymn “Lovest Thou Me More Than These” is taken
from verses 15 -18.
Bible scholars have puzzled over the exact count of the fish
miraculously taken in the net. Why exactly 153 large fish?
Numerical calculations have been offered up along with conjectured
connections to other numbers, but in the end only one thing is
perfectly clear…there was an exact count of the fish, and the number
was 153. I take that to mean but one thing…it was a big catch!
Big enough in fact to have lured these fishermen back to their
fishing boats.
Galilee is a beautiful place, and the lake there (called the Sea of
Tiberias in John’s account, but elsewhere known as the lake of
Gennesaret and the Sea of Galilee), was the old home fishing ground
of Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, James and his brother John (the author
of the Gospel that bears his name.
Therefore, some have suggested that Jesus may have been pointing to
the huge catch of fish when He asked Peter “Simon son of John, do
you truly love me more than these” (21:15 NIV)? This view
seems supported by what Peter said prior to the fishing expedition
of the night before. “’I am going out to fish’, Simon Peter
told them, and they said, ‘We’ll go with you’” (21:3 NIV).
Others have suggested that Jesus may have been referring to Peter’s
fishing companions, and whether he loved them more than Jesus.
Personally, I think the fish story is more likely. If Peter
were ever to return to his profession, now would be the time.
With Jesus resurrected, the future uncertain and a boat load of fish
to sell, Peter and the others could start fresh, and rebuild their
careers. Only someone who really loves to fish, and has done
it for a living, can fully appreciate the possibility of this being
the object of Jesus’ question to Peter.
However, you do not need to be a fisherman to understand and
appreciate the fact that there comes a time in the life of every
disciple when we have to make a decision to follow the Master
without hesitation, (and without promise of compensation), or turn
back to what we think we know how to do in the flesh.
Even so, there is a caveat in this story. As impressive as the
catch of fish was, the fact remained that Peter and the others had
fished all night without success. It was only when Jesus
intervened that the catch was taken. The lesson here is that
there is no real security outside of His provision, and even the
fish we catch by our own efforts are still His creation. He is
the Lord of Life no matter what!
The question is still very personal. “Do you truly love me
more than these?” Whatever “these” may be, we still have to
make a choice. Let us be as wise and humble as Peter had
become in such a short time, and to our Risen Lord say, “Lord, You
know all things; You know that I love You” (21:17)!
As we end this series, it is fitting to focus on the ascension of
Jesus into heaven. The event is recorded at the close of the
Gospels of Mark and Luke, and again by Luke in the first chapter of
his Acts of the Apostles. Luke tells us the ascension took
place in “the vicinity of Bethany” (24:50) which is little more than
a mile east south east of Jerusalem.
It was from somewhere near Bethany that our Lord was taken into
heaven with the promise of His return. For almost 2,000 years,
the followers of Jesus have continually looked forward to the
fulfillment of that promise. In all those centuries,
generation upon generation of the redeemed has been greeted by the
Lord Himself upon their arrival in heaven. They are swelling
the ranks of those who will accompany Him at the rapture of the
living church.
When will He return? We cannot know, but we can know with
reasonable accuracy (as history goes) when we will meet Him, for our
own lifespan is as brief as the burning of a small birthday candle.
Our flame of biological life will soon flicker, and with little more
than a puff of smoke from the burnt wick we will be ushered into the
presence of the Lord. But once there, we shall ever be with
the Lord!
His resurrection and His ascension are the promise and prototype of
our own life in the eternal heavens. Here the words of the
Apostle Paul seem especially fitting. “Behold, I shew you a
mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, In a
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the
trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and
we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption,
and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible
shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on
immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is
written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy
sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and
the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth
us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (I Corinthians 15:51 –
57 KJV). HE IS RISEN! HE IS RISEN INDEED!
ddf
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 7)
The close of the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus was
punctuated by His giving what is known as “The Great Commission” to
the eleven disciples. This was accomplished on an unnamed
mountain in the region of Galilee. There Jesus gives tells
them to go, tell, make disciples and baptize “in the name of the
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 29:16-20).
This is one of the clearest statements in all the New Testament that
our God is One, though triune in Person. The mystery of the
Trinity will not be fully understood this side of heaven, but the
fact of it need not be doubted. Presently we know (from
Scripture) that God is; that Christ intercedes for us with the
Father; that the Spirit makes intercession with the Father as the
Comforter who was given following the ascension of Christ.
Mystery…yes! Beyond belief…no!
In His Great Commission Jesus gives us the absolute assurance that
the Great God of all creation is attentive to our cry for mercy and
forgiveness. He has shown Himself to us in His Triune glory,
and in so doing, has given us a great and indisputable assurance of
His love for us. This is wonderfully reinforced by Jesus’
final words in this passage. “And surely I will be with you always,
to the very end of the age” (28:20 NIV). If you are His
disciple, then He is with you…this very moment, and shall always be!
ddf
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 6)
One of best known and most beloved of the post-resurrection
appearances of Christ was to the lesser known disciples (one of whom
was named Cleopas), who Jesus met along the road going to Emmaus
(which was about seven miles northwest of Jerusalem). After
making Himself known to them, these disciples cried out, “Did not
our heart burn within us, while He talked with us by the way, and
while He opened to us the scriptures" (Luke 24:32 KJV).
This wonderful text is the theme verse for Master’s International
School of Divinity. It most clearly and concisely captures the
essence of what we hope and pray will happen in the heart of every
person who undertakes to make a sincere study of the Bible. It
is the work of Christ to open the Scriptures to the heart. The
very best a Divinity School can hope to accomplish it to help pry
open the head; only the Holy Spirit can open the heart!
Hearts opened to the truth of Jesus Christ by the ministry of the
Holy Spirit are hearts that will “burn within” with a passion and
determination that generates the only real meaning and purpose to
life. Those who do not “know” the Saviour, are utterly without
hope beyond this life, and are hopelessly trapped in the nightmare
of humanistic rationalism. The one offers eternal life, the
other can offer absolutely nothing beyond today.
Those of us who have met the Living Lord, and subsequently have come
to know Him, can no longer accept the hopelessness of humanistic
rationalism because our hearts have been set afire with the Truth,
and that Truth has set us free. Consequently, now that we are
free, we are set upon our own road to Emmaus seeking to tell others
who have not yet heard that He has indeed risen!
ddf
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 5)
With Sunday being the “first day of the week,” this is the week that
we celebrate the Risen Lord Jesus Christ. About thirty-four
years following the day of Christ’s resurrection, the Apostle Paul
wrote, "Now, brothers, I want to remind you of the gospel I
preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your
stand. By this gospel you are saved, if you hold firmly to the word
I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain. For what I
received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died
for our sins according to the Scriptures, that He was buried, that
He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that
He appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve. After that, He
appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers at the same time,
most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then
He appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all He
appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born" (I Corinthians
15:1-8 NIV).
Notice that Jesus first appears to Peter (see Luke 24:34); the very
person whom we might expect that Jesus would have made to wait a
while. Peter, the one who denied Him three times! Jesus
then appears to His half-brother James (the full biological son of
Mary and Joseph). James would become the leader of the church
in Jerusalem, and later martyred for his faith.
Next, Jesus appears to the other disciples, including His own mother
and Thomas the skeptic; following these He shows Himself to over
five-hundred others (probably including Joseph of Arimathea,
Nicodemus, Zacchaeus, sisters Mary and Martha along with their
brother Lazarus, among the hundreds of others who heard His
wonderful teachings and loved Him as Messiah. Finally, Paul
includes himself in the list of those who have seen the Lord.
All of these, including Paul, considered themselves incredibly
blessed, and so they were - without a doubt.
However, following His resurrection, Jesus spoke of another group of
disciples who were to one day also know Him; He does so while
appearing to Thomas. John records His exact words. “Then
Jesus told him [Thomas], ‘Because you have seen Me, you have
believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have
believed.’” Who are “those?” Among “those
who have not seen and yet have believed” is you, is me, is each
and every disciple descended from those who did see Him after His
resurrection. We are those “blessed!”
We have not “seen Him,” but we have and do “know Him!” That’s
part of the wondrous blessing of faith, and it seems fitting that it
was Peter who proclaimed this most clearly when he wrote of us
saying, "Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye
see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full
of glory; receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of
your souls" (I Peter 1:8, 9 KJV). To know Him! What
a blessing! What a joy!
ddf
March 2010
Week
03/7
Week 3/14
Week 3/21
Week 3/28
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 4)
Following what is known as His “Triumphal Entry” into the city of
Jerusalem, among other lessons, Jesus gave six additional parables,
and many other wonderful teachings. All serious students of
the Bible ought to give their most careful attention to all of these
as recorded primarily in the Gospels by Matthew, Mark and Luke.
Jesus’ Triumphal Entry (which begins the week of His Passion) is
recorded in all four Gospels. This was a prophecy fulfilling
event in many ways. I have been privileged to stand on the
Mount of Olives at a place which looks directly into the eastward
facing gate though which Jesus entered on that day. The city
wall and gate that stood in Jesus’ day was torn down by Titus in 70
A.D. just as Jesus had prophesied.
Over the centuries, the wall and gate (known as the Eastern Gate,
the Golden Gate and the Beautiful Gate) were torn down and rebuilt
though successive waves of war and occupations. They stand
rebuilt today probably exactly as they would have looked in the day
of our Lord (rebuilt in about 520 A.D.), excepting that the gate
itself has been walled up since the days of the Muslim occupation in
about 1541 A.D.
What is so amazing about the gate is that the Scriptures promise
that upon the return of Messiah, this is the gate through which He
will enter. The amazing thing is that nearly 2,000 years after
Messiah’s first Triumphal Entry the gate still exists on exactly the
same place and in exactly the same shape as it did then. Is it
waiting for His return? Christians, Jews and even Muslims
believe it is - though there is differing opinions as to whether the
current wall and gate will be standing or new one erected in its
place immediately prior to His coming. An interesting
historical note is that the Muslims sealed the gate in 1541 A.D. in
hopes of preventing Messiah from entering!
For this student of the Bible, it makes no difference if it is the
current gate or a future gate. What matters is that I have
look upon the very spot where Jesus Christ will someday return to
Jerusalem as the Millennial King, and as a born-again child of God,
I will be there to witness the entire event. I will know then
if the gate is old or new! He IS coming, and nothing will
prevent it (old sealed gate, new sealed gate or no gate at all)!
Are you ready?
Immediately following Jesus’ Triumphal Entry, He performed the
second of His Temple cleansings (the first at the beginning of His
earthly ministry). The event is recorded by Matthew, Mark and
Luke. It is not unlike the first cleansing, except that coming
at the close of His earthly ministry, it serves to reinforce His
powerful declaration, “My house will be called a house of prayer”
(Matthew 21:13a NIV), which is taken from Isaiah 56:7.
Is there a lesson here for the church? When Jesus entered the
Temple on that day, He was unable to tolerate what was happening.
Would He be comfortable in the average church this Sunday?
After the cleansing, He healed the blind and the lame (21:14).
Are the spiritually blind and lame being healed in our churches?
If not, then we are due a cleansing!
Furthermore, since the physical body of the Christian is the Temple
of the Holy Spirit (I Corinthians 3:16), the same can be said of our
own heart and mind. Is our inner person a place where the work
of God is being conducted or has it become “a den of robbers”
(21:13b)? On this account we must be ever vigilant, for it is
the work of the Evil One to corrupt both the church as a body, and
the body of the individual believer with worldly concerns (even
wickedness).
“Oh dear Christ, search my soul and cast out whatever may be
displeasing to You! This I pray too, consider my church, and
keep her pure by whatever cleansing shall be pleasing to You, for I
would be pure in my heart and a pure blessing to my church, knowing
it is for both that You have died and are risen again.”
It was during the final week of Jesus’ earthly ministry that He gave
the most solemn prophecies and warnings concerning the end of the
age. These teachings, while not reminiscent of His uplifting and
soul blessing teachings on more personal subjects like the Sermon on
the Mount, are among the most relevant to the individual believer
and to the church (corporately) today.
There is coming an end of the present age, and the business of the
church is to prepare people for that unalterable event.
Chapters 24 and 25 of Matthew record Jesus’ lengthy teaching on this
subject (a total of ninety-seven verses of which only two are not
direct quotes).
In light of the fact that Jesus knew He would face Calvary in less
than a week, the intensity of His teaching must have been in stark
contrast to His usually calm and patient manner. If these
ninety-seven verses were to be reduced to only three main points
under which all the teaching could be enumerated, it would be these:
1. There is coming an end to the present age. 2. The end
will come with swift and terrifying suffering for the inhabitants of
the earth. 3. In the end, only the righteous will be
saved.
What ought to be the message of the church in the light of this?
It ought to be: 1. Life either as we know it on the planet or
individually is coming to an end. 2. We cannot know exactly
when that time will be either for earth or individuals. 3.
Everyone who comes to Christ for salvation will be saved, all others
will be lost. What else could we proclaim that is of greater
importance?
Yes, there are many other things the church ought to teach, but if
we fail to proclaim this central reality, what is the meaning of the
resurrection, original sin, judgment, heaven, hell, and why did
Jesus go to so great an effort to give us this message immediately
prior to His crucifixion? We must not neglect the truth.
ddf
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 3)
Possibly the least known of Jesus’ remarkable healings was performed
on a crippled woman in the region of Perea. Luke alone records
this event (13:10-17), and if you cannot recall it then by all means
read it now. Perhaps Luke, a physician, was especially touched
as he carefully researched this miracle (see Luke 1:1-4). In
any case, he certainly understood the powerful act of healing that
freed this poor woman from her physical bondage.
Bent over for eighteen years, she had found no pity from the elders
of the synagogue in her village. Though they knew her well,
they could give her no solace, no help and no hope. It took
the touch of the Master’s hand upon her bent form to straighten her
to full height both physically and spiritually. After which,
the ruler of her own synagogue berated the healing because it was
done on the Sabbath, and not according to their so-called rules.
Some things never change. Even today, there are those whose
lives have been touched by the hand of Jesus; their bent spirit and
broken life marvelously healed through the new birth. They
want nothing more than to praise God, only to discover that not
everyone is thrilled with their good fortune. Let someone find
help through mental health therapy or drug therapy and the world
will praise them for their good sense, but let that same one
announce that they have been healed by an encounter with the Lord
Jesus Christ, and they may discover ridicule in the place of
rejoicing.
The very truth is that in the United States today there are millions
of souls bent over by the spirit of this wicked age who could, in an
instant, be completely healed by the touch of Jesus upon their life.
The world rejects such a cure, and offers in its place nothing but
even greater burdens of vain and hollow philosophy. The great
work of the Church is to break past the hopeless traditions of the
popular culture (the so-called rules), and reach out as the very
hand of Christ Himself.
One of the most disturbing lessons taught by Jesus came as He went
through the towns and villages of Perea during the last months of
His earthly ministry. Something He was teaching caused them to
ask, “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” (Please read
the entire discourse in Luke 13:22-30). His reply has become
known as the lesson of the Narrow Door. Though similar to His
other teachings on the narrow and wide gate, this particular lesson
is a stark warning to those who think they can be saved by right of
birth or personal association.
The three clear truths that emanate from this lesson are these: 1.
There is a restricted way and time to get into the Father’s house.
2. Once the door of opportunity is closed it cannot be reopened.
3. Those who fail to gain entrance will take their place with all
other evil doers.
This teaching puts an end to the notion of universal salvation and
easy atonement. It makes a great many uncomfortable, but we
are not the makers of the rules. The truth is, not everyone is
going to enter into the Kingdom of God. Happily, all those who
enter through the narrow door (which is Christ Himself), will some
day “take their places at the feast.” Obey the rules and you
are in. Disobey the rules and you are out, no matter how
loudly you bang on the door or insistently claim to have known the
Father’s Son (when in fact you did not).
The lesson of the Narrow Door is a lesson of warning, but also of
hope. I can enter if I go through the Narrow Door. Jesus
really is the only way, and He has been opening His life’s door for
such a long time now that we can only wonder how long before it must
close. It is still open. “Make every effort to enter.”
ddf
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 2)
Jesus, during the last months of His earthly ministry, traveled not
more than thirty miles in any direction away from Bethany and
Jerusalem. Traveling in a north easterly direction, which took
Him across the Jordan River toward the Jabbok River, He turned south
into central Perea, westerly back toward Bethany, and ultimately
back to Jerusalem for what is known to all Bible students as His
Triumphal Entry (the Sunday before His crucifixion).
We shall begin to trace His blessed footsteps during this time
beginning with the raising of Lazarus from the dead as is recorded
by John in 11:1-46. This may be the best know of Jesus’
miracles, and possibly the most beloved for reasons that seem
obvious.
If you have not recently read the wonderful account of this miracle,
it would be appropriate to do so (even before continuing to read
here). The many lessons to be gleaned from this event have
served Bible preaches and teachers well for hundreds of years.
The central event is, of course, the actual raising of Lazarus (the
brother of Mary and Martha all of whom lived in Bethany) from the
dead after he had been in the tomb for four days.
That he was dead was not in dispute. That he was restored to
life by the Lord of Life is the whole point of the miracle.
The Lord of Life not only raised Lazarus, He would rise Himself from
the dead a few months later, and in so doing, become the Great
Grantor of eternal life to all who would then, and for all time,
believe on His name.
“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He
who believes in Me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives
and believes in Me will never die. ‘” Then Jesus asks Martha the
most important question in all of human history. “Do you
believe this?” To which Martha give the most intelligent
answer in all of human history, “Yes Lord, she told Him, ‘I believe
that you are the Christ, the Son of God who was to come into the
world’” (John 1:25-27 NIV).
The question has not changed or lost its relevancy. Not being
able to answer for anyone other than myself, I can say without
hesitation of any sort, “Yes Lord, I believe.” I hope and pray
that your answer is the same as mine.
ddf
COMMEMORATING
THE RESURRECTION 2010 (Part 1)
In 2010, the Christian Church in the Western world will celebrate
Palm Sunday on March 28 and Resurrection Sunday a week later on
April 4. “Easter” as it is commonly known, is an annually
moveable holy day. March 23 is very close to the earliest date
(March 21), while April 25 is the very latest date.
The rules for determining the actual day each year are complex and
hardly known to Christians anywhere. So complex in fact, that
most pastors quickly forget the formula shortly after studying it in
Bible College, Seminary or Divinity School. The following
brief explanation will make the point.
“The rule has since the Middle Ages been phrased as “Easter,” and
observed on the Sunday after the first full moon on or after the day
of the vernal equinox. However, this does not reflect the actual
ecclesiastical rules precisely. One reason for this is that the full
moon involved (called the Paschal full moon) is not an astronomical
full moon, but an ecclesiastical moon. Another difference is that
the astronomical vernal equinox is a natural astronomical
phenomenon, while the ecclesiastical vernal equinox is fixed at
March 21. Easter is determined from tables which determine
Easter based on the ecclesiastical rules described above, which
approximate the astronomical full moon.”
“In applying the ecclesiastical rules, the various Christian
Churches use 21 March as their starting point from which they find
the next full moon, etc. However because Eastern Orthodox and
Oriental Orthodox Churches use the Julian Calendar as their starting
point, while Western Christianity uses the Gregorian Calendar, the
end point, the date for Easter, may diverge.”
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter).
See this cited source for more detailed information.
No matter the actual date, for Christians everywhere, the annual
commemoration of the passion and resurrection of the Lord Jesus
Christ is the most holy of all Christian celebrations. Over
the next several weeks, we will focus our attention on this great
validating epoch of the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, with a
final focus on the present and future blessings that His
resurrection makes possible for the redeemed of all the ages.
ddf
February 2010
Week 02/7
Weeks 02/14 - 21
Week 2/28
WHY THE CREATION/ EVOLUTION DEBATE MATTERS (Part 3 of 3)
Few Americans are aware of the looming debate concerning genetic
research that is poised to makes its appearance within the next
decade. The forces that make this inventible are already at
work. Far beyond the genetic manipulation of such products as
corn and soybeans, is the breathtaking world of the genetic
manipulation of humans and animals.
Even my distinction between humans and animals reveals a bias on my
part (still shared by a majority of Americans), that will be
seriously challenged in the next few years. Two lines of
research will put currently held distinctions between humans and
animals to the test. The first is the production of human
helping biological mixing/splicing of genetic materials.
Already this area of research is much further advanced than most
people realize; the majority of Americans being only familiar with
stem cell research and the ethical concerns that have so far served
as a rather mild check on the unmerited crossing of moral lines.
The other area involves the
creation of cross species creatures. The general term for such
a manufacture is a “chimera”, the biological research into the
development of chimeras is both fascinating and frightening (see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimera_%28genetics%29
as a beginning place to study this further). Though it may
seem like wild science fiction, there are already serious efforts to
promote the genetic creation of part human and part animal creatures
(commonly called chimeras), to do dull or dangerous work in
industry, agriculture and even war.
How will all this be possible? It will be possible when there
is no viable resistance to it from social conservatives who happen
to still believe in the sacredness of human life which is
fundamentally a byproduct of a belief in a Transcendent Creator.
Why is it in the best interest of the United States to retain a deep
and unalterable commitment to the sacredness of human life?
Because without it, there are no logical limits to which all forms
of scientific research (most especially genetic research), may go in
man’s mad quest to become the god of this planet, if not the
universe.
One must never forget that the only thing separating man from animal
is the everlasting, never dying spirit of life that resides in each
living human being. It is the one thing that genetic research
cannot quantify. It is the one thing that cannot be observed
in the laboratory. Most importantly, it is the one thing about
a human being that cannot be destroyed. The person survives
the body!
Without the governance of thoughtful, faithful men and women who are
totally committed to a belief that we must all some day give an
account to the Creator and Governor of the Universe, the only limits
placed on science and technology are those which are deemed
expedient by the ruling class. If ever we are ruled by a
godless government we will be ruled by tyrants. It cannot be
otherwise.
Consider the hubris, the utter arrogance of those who suppose that
within the tiny mass of matter that is the human brain resides the
only source of scientific determinism available to our planet.
Think of the gross stupidity that is required to suppose that
because a thing cannot be quantified, visible and repeatable within
the crude confines of a research laboratory its existence must be
rejected. Are there not mysteries, truths, realities, and laws
of physics that are yet beyond the capacity of man to imagine, much
less perceive?
It is worth remembering these ancient words: "Seek the Lord
while He may be found, Call upon Him while He is near. Let the
wicked forsake his way, And the unrighteous man his thoughts; Let
him return to the Lord, And He will have mercy on him; And to our
God, For He will abundantly pardon. "For My thoughts are not your
thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord. "For as the
heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your
ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:6-0 NKJV).
It is worth asking whether in the history of mankind it is possible
to find a single instance of a nation being governed by a godless
despot where the people enjoyed personal liberty. The answer
is that without leaders who themselves are willing to bend their
knee to a Transcendent Holy Creator; the people living under their
rule are doomed to oppression. If personal rights derive from
the state, then what the state giveth it can and will taketh away
when expedient.
The creation vs. evolution debate is more than a question of
origins, more than a question of competing ideologies, more than a
question of science; it is a struggle between light and darkness.
ddf
WHY THE CREATION/ EVOLUTION DEBATE MATTERS (Part 2 of 3)
Why do most Christians believe that God is the creator of all
things? Because the Bible teaches this from Genesis to
Revelation (Genesis 1:1; Psalm 33:6, 9; 102:25; Jeremiah 10:12; John
1:3; Acts 14:15; 17:24; Hebrews 3:4; Revelation 4:11). Why do
most skeptics reject this belief? Because they do not believe
the Bible is anything more than a very old book reflecting what
people in a less sophisticated world believed about the meaning of
life.
In secular academic circles rejecting or even questioning the idea
of evolution is tantamount to believing that the earth is a flat
rock riding on the back of some gigantic mythical turtle. Most
Americans are not aware of the deep seated is the hostility that
exists against the idea of a personal Creator God. Among the secular
academic elite, it is a hostility that boarders on loathing.
In recent years there have been serious calls to revoke Ph.D.
degrees from credentials scientists who openly admit to a belief in
any form of intelligent design, and in particular the idea of
full-blown creationism. This hostility is only now thinly
veiled, and is waiting for an opportunity to assert itself though
congressionally mandated protocols.
Generally speaking, the majority of Americans are conflicted when it
comes to what they believe about the origin of the earth. When
polled about this belief, the majority of people believed that God
had something to do with it, but as the onion of the idea is pealed,
the core belief is reduced to only a generally held notion of some
kind of creation involvement.
Such an idea will not satisfy either the conservative evangelical or
the secular humanist. Conservative evangelicals are not
willing to abandon the Genesis account of creation, and doctrinaire
secularists are not willing to abandon evolution. There is a
real difference of opinion between these two groups, but in that
larger middle ground there is less support for creation than for
evolution, and this is true mainly because of fundamentally
conflicted opinions on the subject.
That large middle ground of citizens who really do not know what
they believe about origins are more likely to be swayed toward the
evolution argument if only because it will be pressed so vigorously
by those who seem to know what they are talking about (e.g.
secularists in control of scientific research and academia).
But do they "really" know what they are talking about?
ddf
WHY THE CREATION/ EVOLUTION DEBATE MATTERS (Part 1 of 3)
I often wonder how many Christians in America are aware that the
Biblical teaching on the origin of the universe, and most especially
the origin of human beings, seems quaint at best and dangerous at
worse to most leaders in the public education community. In
recent years, there has been a concerted effort among textbook
designers, curriculum committees and departmental leaders to purge
all public school textbooks of any language that challenges the
doctrine of evolution.
The effort is serious, and in fact, very little effective resistance
has stood in the way of its success. This is principally
because most Christians are either totally uninformed as to its
ultimate consequences, or naively believe that it really does not
matter what a person thinks about the origin of life. Others
wrongly think that faith always trumps public policy, and that being
engaged in such matters amounts to a waste of time.
The fact is, what a nation as a whole holds to be true of origins,
is on a practical level, infinitely more important than what the
individual believes. This is because nations have the power to
establish policy. Considering this fact alone, one may better
appreciate that in practically no public school in America is the
theory of creation (or even intelligent design) taught along side
the theory of evolution. This is rather remarkable when
considering that the Creation Research and Intelligent Design
movements (each independent of the other), are the work of highly
credentialed and widely respected scientists.
I invite you to join me this month as we consider why the
creation/evolution debate is of such vital importance to both
Christians and non-Christians alike.
ddf
January 2010
Week 01/3
Week01/10
Week01/17
Week 01/24
Week 01/31
Generational
Narcissism (Part 5 of 5)
The Baby Boom generation set out to change the culture, and
succeeded. Have we changed it for the better, and have the
succeeding generations continued to build upon our efforts? If
we are to measure success by technology, then we have indeed
succeeded. But we do not hold funerals for technology.
We hold funerals for people. Technology is important, but the
people are the ultimate measure of the success of any generation.
How have we succeeded with people? We have succeeded in
breaking down the healthful and protective barriers between male and
female; we have succeeded in devaluing children and childbearing to
the extent that in some quarters pregnancy is considered a disease;
we have succeeded in bringing equality between the species to the
extent that courts are now being asked to rule as to whether apes
and other animals of ought to enjoy constitutional rights…it is not
a joke; we have succeeded in breaking down barriers to sexual
pleasures to such an extent that virginity and abstinence are in
danger of being diagnosed as a form of mental illness. Sexual
activity among teenagers is now so common that free condoms are a
staple item in the storerooms of our nation’s high schools.
We have murdered nearly fifty million innocent but unwanted children
through the legalized holocaust of abortion; sodomy laws have been
declared unconstitutional and sodomizing a civil right. At the
end of WWII married heterosexual couples comprised fully three
quarters of American households, by 2007 that number had slipped to
just under one half. Divorce is so common that the odd ball
kids in grade school are the ones who share the same last name with
both parents.
Pornography which was once a criminal issue has become a commercial
enterprise; gambling which was mob controlled is now state
controlled with lottery tickets as plentiful as confetti at a
homecoming parade. The American middle class is wallowing in
debt and shrinking in numbers at an alarming rate. The
so-called working poor are the fastest growing class in the country.
Children are taught the principle of “stranger danger” which has
created a powerful distrust of others, especially adults, yet they
are subjected to eye-level visual smut when walking through the
checkout counter at the local supermarket. Parents avoid
strong discipline for fear that their wicked little child will call
911 and wind up in foster care and the parents wind up in jail.
Public school teachers are powerless to enforce rules.; God has been
kicked out of their classroom, the Bible has been banned as if it
were some kind of underground manual for building a dirty bomb;
Christmas and Easter have been treated as if they were a celebration
of some evil time in our primitive past, and even our Pledge of
Allegiance has been treated as if it were an oath of fidelity to a
rouge state.
This is by no means hyperbolae, in fact it is worse than describe
above, and the worse is not over. As the prophet Hosea said of
ancient Israel, “For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap
the whirlwind” (8:7 KJV). We are just now beginning to reap.
Recently, we have been told that we, the Boomers, are living too
long, and will become the fly in the ointment that will bankrupt the
country and cause the healthcare system to go into overload and
breakdown. We are too old to be cool any longer, and we are
just now entering that time in our life when we will be in the way.
How will the other generations, bent on having their way like we had
ours, deal with us?
Which brings us to the question of what is the current generation
like? The Apostle Paul spoke of a generation that would be the
last immediately prior to the return of Christ. He gives a
prophecy to Timothy, his young protégé. Here is what he said:
“This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters,
proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers,
incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, Traitors,
heady, high-minded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such
turn away. For of this sort are they which creep into houses,
and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers
lusts, Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the
truth” (2 Timothy 3:1-7 KJV). Is not this description
unsettling in its likeness to our day?
If the Boomers were our nation’s first truly narcissistic
generation, what today is the nation as a whole? We are a
culture of death, that is what. Narcissism is a death wish, a
wish that all else that does not recognize and accept my self love
will go away and die. Ultimately, the self possessed are left
alone, to die alone.
Is it too late to live? For some, yes. Because some are
still obsessing on self and rejecting the Creator Who gave them
life. For others, no, it is definitely not too late.
There is time to turn to Him, time to seek Him, time to abandon what
is left of self, time to seek His face and live; time to return to
the faith of our father which is living still. Almighty God ( the
God so many pretend does not exist), has extended this invitation to
us: “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves
and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will
I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their
land (II Chronicles 7:14 NIV). It need is not too late
to accept His invitation.
ddf
Generational
Narcissism (Part 4 of 5)
The Greatest Generation had known sacrifice, hunger, privation and
the death of so many at so young an age. When they took up the
business of rebuilding the nation and their own lives, they
determined that their children would have it better, and they did,
and we do.
Many have suggested that the desire to give a better life to their
children blinded our parents from fully understanding the depth of
our rebellion. Others have speculated that they were tired of
fighting anyone, even their own children; while yet others have
offered up the theory that they thought as we matured we’d grow out
of it. There is probably truth in all of it. But could
there have been more to it?
Could it be that fomenting such rebellion was a force of evil more
maniacal than they dared to imagine? Could it be that this was
the same force that having failed to destroy America’s Christian
influence through an external war had turned its attention to an
internal conflict? To some, such an idea is sheer nonsense,
and that may be the power behind the success of it…that it is not to
be believed as true. Yet, how else can we account for such
blindly stupid notions of personal freedom and the arrogant casting
off of restraints as we, the Boomer generation set into motion?
Whatever one may think of the idea, we proved to be America’s first
fully narcissistic generation. We were in love with our music,
our clothes, our cars, our ways, our hair, and mostly ourselves.
No, not all of us, but enough of us that we created a phenomenon
that is still the dominate cultural force in the nation…a force that
is amoral at best, and immoral at worst.
The Boomers were the hippies, the bra burners, the free love
advocates, the marijuana puffers, the draft dodgers, the generation
that pushed for no-fault divorce laws, the psychedelic generation
that insisted we have abortion on demand, and then kicked God out of
public education and substituted the folly of evolution for the
hopeful comfort of creation.
One may rightly wonder where has it gotten us, and where has it
taken the nation? We must now ask this question. We are
no longer young, no longer cool; we are grandparents, and our
grandchildren are inheriting our moral and ethical fortunes.
What have we bequeathed to them, and how are they spending it?
That question in the final installment.
ddf
Generational
Narcissism (Part 3 of 5)
Who are we, the generation now known as the Baby Boomers?
Technically, we are the children born to the Greatest Generation
during the fifteen years following the end of WWII. However,
for the purpose of this article, we shall limit our attention to the
children born between 1945 and 1949 because these are the first
children to worship Rock ‘n’ Roll, the first children of the
rebellion, and the first truly narcissistic generation in American
history.
Beginning in 1959 in the know-it-all age of our early teens, we
presumed the music, dress, religion, and lifestyle of our parents
unimportant at best, and a hindrance to our freedom of expression at
worst. We coined the term “cool”, and thought we were.
We rebelled, and the nation took notice.
Now, fifty years later, I as one of those who rebelled, am asking
myself two questions….exactly what it was we that were rebelling
against, and why did we do it so mindlessly. The questions are
not unimportant. The consequences of our rebellion have been
far reaching, and few of us would now claim that they created a
benefit for the current generation.
What were we rebelling against? The question is deeply
disturbing to me now, especially in light of the mathematics.
Consider the numbers. Tens of thousands of twenty year old
servicemen married girls as young or younger, and became the parents
of the Boomers. In 1959 when their teenagers were obsessing
over Elvis, these parents were only 35 years old. They were,
themselves, young people. The same young people who, only
fifteen years before, had been spilling their blood on the ground in
far away places like Normandy and Iwo Jima. We never even
thought about Normandy or Iwo Jima. We only thought about how
out of touch our parents were with the real world.
The real world of our parents…what kind of a world was it? It
was a world in which evil tyrants were out to enslave nations, and
systematically exterminate whole people groups whom they, in their
madness, considered inferior. The real world of our parents
was a world in which they had barely escaped such horrors, and had
done so only through the strength of a massive collective effort,
and the protection of Almighty God. Their wounds were not yet
healed, and their scars still painful when we attacked them for
being out of touch, and not letting us have our way.
The real world of our parents was also a world where want and hunger
were only a negligent choice away; a world of hard work, decency,
honor in one’s word, self sacrifice, and a decided dislike for
braggarts, bullies and brats. They did not all profess
Christianity or attend church, though the majority did, but they,
almost without exception, did believe that people would someday have
to answer for what they had done in this life, and that there was a
Supreme Being who would eventually be doing the judging of what was
good and bad.
So what were we rebelling against…the sacrifices, the scars,
the integrity, the hard work, the honest word, and their decency?
What? Did we even really know? What could we have been
thinking? Were we actually even thinking or were we, for the
most part, doing little more than giving vent to our growing
narcissism? Was there something more behind it? Why did
our parents seemingly give in to us? Was it because they were
so tired from fighting poverty and evil ideologies that when we rose
up against them they had no stomach for another fight? And,
why, for the most part, did the rest of American society give in to
us? We will consider the wider implications of that question
next.
ddf
Generational
Narcissism (Part 2 of 5)
Who was the Greatest Generation? They were the fathers and
mothers of my generation, the generation immediately following WWII.
The parents of the so-called Baby Boomers were the men and women who
won the second great world war. Immediately following, they
set their heads and hearts to winning back their own life and the
life of the nation. They went to college, to factories, to
farms, to businesses, they came home to their children, and they
gave birth to even more children.
We were the children of their dreams… dreams that kept them alive
during freezing nights on the German front; dreams that keep them
from going mad on the sweltering islands of the south pacific;
dreams that kept them hopeful at home when news blackouts prevented
them from knowing if their husbands or sweethearts had survived some
horrific battle. They were our folks.
They were also, for the most part young, though statistics vary as
to how young. Most research indicates that the average age of
WWII servicemen was 26, but that figure certainly changed with the
progress of the war, and even so, 26 is young. Tens of
thousands were under twenty when the war ended.
The vast majority of them were social conservatives. They
held to certain core ideas that they knew had helped to make America
great…values that the nations they defeated in battle did not share.
Most were Christian at least in principle, and shared common ideas
of integrity and decency derived from the Bible for which they had
great respect. They kept Harry Truman in the White House, and
later sent Dwight Eisenhower to the presidency.
But that generation held one other distinction, they were among the
generation of Americans who, along with their parents and
grandparents, survived the greatest peacetime economic disaster in
the history of the country…the great depression. By 1933,
unemployment was just under 25% of the U.S. workforce, industrial
stocks had lost 80% of their value, 40% of all banks had failed in
the four preceding years, farm prices had fallen by 53% in that same
period, and the nation was forced to abandon the gold standard.
WWII was still eight years in the coming, as were years of continued
sacrifice and suffering. The Greatest Generation would be
called upon to fight and win two wars…one against national economic
collapse, and the other a war against evil enshrined in nations
hijacked by mad men. They won them both. This is who they
were.
But who were we, the generation that social scientists and
historians have labeled the Baby Boomers? That we shall
address in the next installment.
ddf
Generational
Narcissism (Part 1 of 5)
Shortly after its publication in 1998, Tom Brokaw’s book “The
Greatest Generation” contributed a new term to the American
experience. Almost as if it were a latent apology for having
callously disregarded the sacrifices of their parents, the so-called
Baby Boomers embraced Brokaw’s book so thoroughly that it
became an instant best seller. The book’s title has now become
the most widely used term when referring to the generation that
fought and won WWII…the Greatest Generation.
Fast forward a meager fifteen years from 1945 when the war ended,
and you arrive at the middle of what is often called the age of
Rock ‘n’ Roll, also commonly known as the age of the
rebellion. This author does not need to study that era to
know whether it deserves such a pejorative distinction. He
lived it, and has not forgotten.
From the mid 1950’s through the late 1960’s, my generation rebelled.
We rebelled not only in our music, but also through our dress,
automobiles, entertainments, language, sexual activities, attitudes,
and lifestyles. We rebelled against the Greatest Generation,
and we did it without so much as a thought of what that generation
had so recently given in order to make possible our very existence,
and our right to rebel. We were America’s first truly
narcissistic generation. Of course, not everyone rebelled, but
enough of our generation did that the rest of our classmates were
swept up in the socially violent flow.
The purpose of this tome is to briefly explore that aberrant
phenomenon and its effect on the Boomer and succeeding generations.
Without apology, it should be established that the rebellion was
both deviant and intrinsically wicked. The Greatest Generation
were our parents, and in rebelling, we broke the fifth Commandment
(Exodus 20:12; Leviticus 19:32) by failing to honor our fathers and
our mothers. Furthermore, ours was not the mild kind of
rebellion common to all generations. The rebellion that
followed WWII was motivated and fueled by reckless self-absorption,
and the fantastically irrational idea that individual rights always
trumped collective rights. It was generational narcissism.
We shall begin by asking the question, “Who were these fathers and
mothers, and what was so great about their generation?” We
shall take that up in the next installment.
ddf
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