Power Steering............."

Sometime ago, my niece and her husband purchased a new treadmill and made me a present of their old mechanical monster. Most of the gadgets that record your efforts in terms of calories burned no longer function correctly, but the track, itself, yet works well and has won over my initial resistance to it. In the beginning, I quickly learned that if a person didn’t pay attention to the activity at hand, it was not all that hard for them to find themselves “teakettle over caboose” and on the floor. The other negative was there would be no more four mile, hour long escapes walking the highway deep in contemplation. I loved such times, but the argument was futile. Twenty minutes on this contraption gave me a much better exercise and there was no reason why (after a shower, of course) I couldn’t seek out a quiet spot somewhere and still enjoy my solitude…………..

At first I tried various methods, timing myself for distance. Gradually, however, I began to count paces and discovered three thousand produced a good sweat and occupied about as much time as it normally took me to cover the distance I desired. Then it became quite clear that some of those gadgets were not all that burnt out. My calculations were fairly “on target”. Even better, somewhere along the way, I found myself capable of maintaining cadence without any attempt on my part to do so. My mind was able to drift into other areas without losing an inner awareness of the vocal record being recorded measuring each individual step. Each time my speech noted one hundred, one of my fingers moved to the other side of the railing held by my hand and each journey only increased my potential to accomplish all things simultaneously. Like that inner “sixth sense” that’s always allowed me to utilize my own mind for an alarm clock, this, too, seemed but one more dormant “gift”…………..

Can it be that we are, in reality, nothing more than spirits who dwell within robotic machines that indeed are able to operate, at least to some degree, independent of our will? Have we walked so long attached to “the flesh” that, while we yet have the helm, we steer more often out of its bondage than our own freedom of choice? Have we reduced salvation to but one more deduction detailed by the brain rather than the voice of Divinity come to teach us the original concept of humanity? In Pentecoste, we have long taught that the believer is “in the world, but not of the world”, isolating ourselves within the church and using the printed Word as a sword of separation. We speak of a “Holy Ghost anointing”, but seldom does it take us out of the sanctuary. Christ, on the other hand, was “one with His Father” and, in walking by THAT rein upon His life, emptied HimSELF into every man. Might I, also, learn such obedience……………..

Can You Hear Me Now?............."

For the last two years I have been literally “one on one” with a young autistic boy, dealing with his volatile temper tantrums and doing my best to improve his educational skills at the same time. With his graduation unto a higher level and therefore his transferal to another school, I find myself presently assigned to a full-time position within another unit and attempting to re-adjust to a different “modus operandi”. This time around, I am part of a team that reaches out to children who aren’t, for the most part, physically challenged. There is one girl whose legs require the need of a walker and at least two kids who are prone to seizures. The main area of concern, though, appears to be that their environment has spilled over, in one way or another, into their academics and they just need a hand with the mental work load. Difficulties with reading and math. Discipline problems………….

The job involves various grade levels and multiple personalities. Several boys with not so rough exteriors, but who shy away from any personal contact. One young fellow who immediately reaches to hold your hand and can’t seem to pass any other teacher in the hall without hugging them. A little girl who seems to already hate leaving her assigned group and the pert lass who greets every suggestion with an enthusiastic “Cool!”. One child has a new story to tell for every vocabulary flashcard you bring forth; another merely sits there looking through you and beyond the present situation, completely immune to any attempt at communication. Learning to reach inside and pull out the student while not forgetting each person is an individuality to be met on their own terms is the task before me. Perhaps my retirement “work” hasn’t changed all that much after all. Indeed, maybe, if you strip the process of considering yourself the other person’s instructor, the idea is not all that peculiar to life in general and the Gospel in its entirety………….

Contrary to what some may think, possessing “agape” love doesn’t mean that we, ourselves, are any more capable of extending our heart unto others than we were before coming to Christ. There will always be those whom we do not understand, those with whom we disagree, and those who just “rub us the wrong way”. There will always be that about our own personality which remains distinct in who and what we are as a person. Old wounds and lessons learned along the way have forged our likes and dislikes, established our defenses. As “born-again” believers, however, we have been equipped with the reality of a Spiritual Physician Whose “bed-side manner” is able, not only to deal with our own hang-ups, but also supply us with a divine grace in meeting others where they are. There is neither “bond nor free, male nor female”. There is but one Spirit Who is common to us all and able to give us insight, compassion, wisdom, and whatever else is needed to minister no matter the circumstance. All that is required of us is both humility and an ear willing to listen……………

Rational Security............."

The wife and I stopped at a Sam’s facility yesterday and, after browsing a bit, approached the nearest checkout counter that appeared to offer the quickest means of escape. There were but two middle-aged men in front of us, both black, if that means anything. Most certainly that factor would not have troubled me on other occasions. No; it was various questions about the whole scenario in general that sent little signals to my brain. For one thing, neither gentleman could seemingly speak a word of English. They simply ignored the clerk and took notice only of the cash register’s total. Then consider that each had no more than several items of clothing and produced from their pockets to pay for them, not a wallet, but a fat wad of twenty dollar bills which appeared to have just been printed. True: they could have been no more than a couple of Jamaicans whose luggage got lost at the airport and whose life savings had just recently been converted into American currency when they crossed the border, but somehow that wasn’t what went through my mind…………….

Does such suspicion label me as an alarmist? A racist? An old man with no real excitement in his life? I would hope not. Keep in mind that I DIDN’T call 911, nor did I sound any warning whatsoever. It's for sure, though, that if either of the two had suddenly brandished one of those boxcutter razor knives and threatened to blow the building up, believe me, I was ready to assume that karate kid flamingo kick position and do some serious damage. Right. The last time I got into any kind of a serious fight, the wife “kicked my butt”. I’m a thinker, not a fighter. That’s the problem. By the time I figure out what I’m going to do, I’m lying flat on my back with a lot more time to think about the NEXT thing I’m going to do. No; any successful action on my part would have to be born out of “spontaneous combustion”, some kind of urgency that left me no time to ponder the situation. Both of these fellows, though, simply left before any more bells went off in my brain, leaving my mind to slowly drift, on the way home, to the Statue of Liberty…………..

My memory gave me no more than the first few words of the inscription assigned to her by Emma Lazarus in 1883 and I wasn’t even sure about that. Good old “google”, however, soon spread the plea in its entirety before me. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,” it read; “Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me”; and, in digesting it from beginning to end, there’s no doubt but that I walked away refreshed with a better understanding of what is actually its expressed intent. Somehow the compassion contained within its verse seemed to me synonymous to that of Christ when He promised rest unto all those who labor and are heavy laden. Despite all the ways that we profane the Gospel, His invitation yet meets men where they are and extends hope. Even so the Lady of the Harbor. Even so it should be. But surely it doesn’t hurt to keep one’s eyes open for what the wolf slips through the door……………

Burning up Calories or Kneeling Before the Sacrifice?....."

Other than one last weekend get-away before school officially starts, my ecclesiastical loyalty, lately, has been given unto a young minister attempting to birth a new church here in northern Kentucky. Money, of course, is always a part of any such mission in as much as one continues to look to the future, but it is not a major issue. He holds down a good secular job and, at the moment, has access to rent-free facilities to house the services. No; what seems to concern him, sneaking into every sermon he preaches, is a failure to find no more than a few who have seriously committed themselves to join him for the journey. Fully persuaded in his own mind, he continues to do his best to convince the faithful to “hang in there”. What I would like suggest is that he needs to rest in that which he believes. He has all the “makings” of a great pastor and either Christ is in this struggle or He is not. If we are going to travail, let it be in getting out of the way so that He might come forth. That simple formula first spoken by John the Baptist succeeds no matter what the situation. Jesus, alone, is the mountain-mover. We are but the vessel…………….,

Last Wednesday evening it fell to me once again to “fill” the remaining ten minutes or so of our monthly gathering at an inner-city rescue work. Building on what had already been presented, I took the group to the Book of Galatians where the apostle Paul tried to enlighten this particular set of disciples to the truth that this new gospel wasn’t grounded in ritualistic accomplishments. Twice, therein, he repeats himself in the statement that in Jesus Christ neither circumcision nor uncircumcision “availeth anything”, concluding each time with what DOES give results. The first element he applauds is “faith which worketh by love”, giving insight into the fact that such quality isn’t achieved by any effort on our part other than that which we put into a relationship with Him. The second he names is like unto the first and defined as “a new creature”. To my own way of thinking, that equates to new “modus operandi”. All our life we have walked according to our own desires, our own understanding. What we need to learn, having come to Christ, is the reality of His resurrection and His right to rule the kingdom within…………….

A friend commented on my last post that “The Kingdom of God is anywhere His will is done”. I would agree, but would add only that most of us tend to see His “will” as something we are usually in the dark about, some great mystery to be solved. If we would but awake to the truth that the Holy Ghost IS the “voice of God”, the “mind of Christ”, then all that matters is walking in agreement with He Who abides and goes with us, “yea , through the valley of the shadow of death”. Jim recently noted on his site how the “religious elite”, among the Jews, could see only “genealogy and biology”, not “the Word made flesh”. Are we Christians all that different? We dissect and reassemble verses, carving out totems and creating God in our image, while all the time the awesome fulfillment of His promise unto us waits His turn to take the reins. “We will never know God or Jesus”, Jim continued, “until we go right into the Presence.” Sadly, instead of learning to relax and fall into that pool, too many of us yet believe “it” needs to be prayed down from heaven…………..

Educational Imagery............."

Karen recently noted to me that she wasn’t so sure she liked my working a full-time position at the school as it seemed to interfere with this journal. There’s not much disputing that fact. There’s no way you can be up to your ears in young children and remain focused if your brain is floating in the “heavenlies” attempting to compose your next post. There’s also no way one can simply sit down in the evening and immediately “find the flow”. I need a walk or a nap or a long drive to clear my thoughts, to connect with Him; and isn’t always possible. Be that as it may, however, working with these kids has become a passion . It is an opportunity, I believe, given by God and I intend to give IT “all I’ve got”………….

These first few days have merely been educational classes directed toward the needs of the staff. The doors don’t open unto students until this coming Tuesday. Now on the receiving end of benefits and a higher pay scale, I am required to attend a certain amount of such training. The majority of what they have fed us so far, though, has amounted to a plateful of “legal awareness” and a smorgasbord of motivational speakers. Thursday’s emphasis was placed on generating and maintaining a vision of teamwork, seeing our goals as one dream common to all and representative of the body, not just the individual. While the person was to lose him(or her)self in the interest of the whole, yet the accomplishment could only be achieved, they said, by the whole being willing to invest itself into the one. As we sat there in table groups attempting to put the idea of such a mission into our own words, it occurred to me that the whole concept would, in reality, make a great Sunday School lesson………….

It was Jim who, in reflecting on the Christian who was on his way to “the Kingdom”, suggested that the only possibility allowing us to draw closer to such “target” involved getting our feet worn, tired, and dirty by being “on the road”. He stated that in the sense of the journey being more than just reading our Bibles and going to church. I would agree, wishing only to add that part of the problem lies in our misunderstanding the term “Kingdom” to refer to nothing more than a divine destination where we arrive after death. We have ignored the fact that Jesus spoke of TWO such realms and the boundaries of the one could be found to exist even now, in THIS life and within each of us. In turning the Gospel into rules and regulations governed by our own singular interpretations, we have reduced to mere words the reality of a supernatural Presence Who abides and meets with us on any regular basis. The Institute, itself, operates out of ritual. Its members know community and self worth only as they adapt to the format…………

You don’t have to be a church to realize that “life” is an organism, not an organization; and it looks to me that if secular education can appreciate that truth, we who supposedly already possess the ultimate definition of that term ought to catch on sooner or later……………

Putting It In Print.............""

For the second time in the past few months, my identity has been mentioned in a friend’s weekly newspaper column. The first occasion had me mentally envisioned as somehow bearing Gene Hackman’s likeness. This piece, however, simply referred to me as being “apolitical” and the source of that which he discussed. Concerned about a piece of e-mail passed on to me by my oldest daughter, he addressed that part of our electoral process which appears to have grown far beyond the descriptive term of “mud-slinging”. His remarks were kind and didn’t offend me at all. In truth, he did make me take pause and consider that possibly I shouldn’t have linked that initial set of humorous quotes. My explanation at the time, however, made it clear that I meant no personal “slam” against anyone, having great faith that there was a similar list making the rounds on the other fellow. The second issue, though, was another matter and one that was passed on to him only at his request. We may not be totally in agreement on the national state of affairs in this country, but I sure like the way he thinks in general. Even more, in as much as I know him, I like the way he lives……………..

In an older article, he once wrote: “It’s hard to be an ambivalent American these days. The art of appreciating a good argument, seeing the other guy’s point of view, conceding a point or two but holding your ground, seems to be losing favor. Instead, our ideas about politics or social policy or the environment or taste in movies need to be sealed, covered with concrete and slapped on a bumper sticker or saved as a sound bite. And those who disagree are in league with the Devil.” Then, continuing to address the same subject, he added: “Maybe in the Information Age there’s too much information, and maybe we’re more comfortable hearing what we want to hear and believing the worst. Demonizing your neighbor might be easier than listening to him, God forbid he might actually make some sense. These are difficult times. We have a war. We have economic and energy problems. We have an election coming up. We need to have a national discussion that leaves name-calling to the talking heads and the leeches who feed on fear to sell books.” Amen, Chuck. Amen……………….

Someone who sat about fifteen pews back on the right side of the sanctuary once remarked to me that “Church is church; and business is business!” Such point of view is pretty sad; even more deplorable, however, the fact that it isn’t restricted merely to that particular arena. I used to think that the “kingdom of God” equated to the Holy Spirit taking up residence with a man, but it struck me the other day how, while a man’s body may be so indwelt, it does not become a temple until his own spirit bows in reverence unto He Who abides there. Not just on Sunday morning. Rather in all the avenues and back allies of our life. His Word is still His Word no matter who occupies the White House, no matter what my personal opinion about whomever. I admire that in my friend. His conversion to Christ reads a little differently than my own. Nonetheless, whether he’s expressing his own insight on national issues or just reminiscing about his past, what you get is heart and honest humility……………..

Punctuating the Interrogative..........."

A devastating hurricane ravaged much of Florida this past weekend, the worst to hit it in over twenty-five years. Spinning off the island of Cuba, it flung itself northward into the southern tip of the state via the Gulf side and then surprised those who prognosticate such disasters by plunging inland much sooner than they expected. Its change in course left the Panhandle merely dealing with the weather conditions produced by the downgraded tropical storm that had preceded it. Friday was overcast and cool. Saturday found me in the shade, sitting on a boardwalk bench while the wife and the two young teenage girls we invited along for the trip enjoyed the sand and the hot Pensacola midday sun. Across the pond, the latest figures spoke of fifteen dead and at least a hundred yet unaccounted for, but the only interruption to our own peace and quiet had been a day’s delay and the continual giggling prattle coming from the backseat on the way down. Ironically enough, a recent purchase of “For The Time Being” by Annie Dillard had my thoughts about the whole scenario in deep water…………..

This, my first encounter with the author, presented me with the absurdity of just such events, setting forth facts and figures that left me swimming in the abysmal mystery of man’s existence. Repeatedly, chapter after chapter, she expanded labels like “birth”, “sand”, “clouds”, and “numbers” into a vivid sense of both our individual significance as a member of the human race and, at the same time, our membership being swallowed up by the totality of the whole. Newborn infants moved along an assembly line by a registered nurse who has witnessed in the midst of all that tugs at one’s heart the not so uncommon truth of that which is malformed. Serial killers and Chinese leaders who cannot comprehend the singular. “What’s the big deal?”, exclaimed Ted Bundy to the Press. “I mean, there are soooo many people.” Then there was her own daughter who, at the age of seven, responded to the idea of 138,000 drowning in Bangladesh being hard to imagine by stating the task, instead, to be easy. “Lots and lots of dots”, she said; “in blue water.”…………..

The focus of her novel, of course, is a search for God. Quoting not necessarily “men of faith”, she notes that “Purity does not lie in a separation from the universe, but in a deeper penetration of it” and that “The first theological task is to remove absurdities in interpretation”. In another place, a French cleric observes, “His name is holy, but it is up to us to sanctify it; His reign is universal, but it is up to us to make Him reign; His will is done, but it is up to us to accomplish it”; and she, herself, then, writes: “We live in all we seek. The hidden shows up in too-plain sight. It lives captive on the face of the obvious-the people, events, and things of the day-to which we as sophisticated children have long since become oblivious.” There is, as always, room for debate in the matter. Some would, no doubt, call such thinking blasphemy; others might, indeed, identify with it. I read, and then simply allow what has soaked in to provoke both my spirit and His. I do not fear as long as He goes with me……………

Sunday evening we were about to bid our farewell to family and friends when a young lady positioned herself at their piano and attempted to fulfill a request. Less than a year earlier, situations at home had reduced her to living in her car, making her way on the streets. Drugs were involved, but were a matter of where she had been forced to live rather than the problem that triggered her ejection. Rescue was an evangelistic couple who had invited her into their sanctuary. Now she was nervous, her fingers at first merely trying to comply with people’s kindness. Then she closed her eyes and forgot we were there. As the grace of God began to fill that room, a quiver ran up and down my soul testifying to all I needed to know. Questions? There will ever be questions. His presence, however, is a rock in a sure place……………

Deep Sea Fishing............."

With but two weeks before school starts, already, as a full-time employee rather than simply a substitute occupying a five-days-a-week job, I am discovering the $3000 a year raise plus benefits holds requirements which must be met. Beginning tomorrow, there are three different periods of classes on my schedule which will be increased at intervals as we continue. The authorities who decide such issues never responded to my attempts to move on with my autistic charge, giving me their opinion that it would be better for him to face life as it is. In my own eyes, however, I fail to see where his future holds much hope unless his parents can somehow find a way to overcome the system. My own course has me in a different Special Ed unit for this coming term and it is a door which I believe God to have once again opened. I am very happy. Nevertheless I worry about the boy……………..

I asked my wife this morning if, at approaching sixty-two, she ever felt sometimes like she was no more than “the doer of the laundry”. My attempt at humor was born out of my own occasional notion that, at approaching sixty-three, I have become no more than “the maker of the beds”. The roots of my jest, though, went deeper than that. Lately I have been looking back, looking around, looking within, and questioning just where I am in the overall scheme of things. I do not mean to insinuate that depression has settled over me in any manner whatsoever. Christ still brings purpose and focus to both the path taken and whatever lies ahead, but let it be known that part of such process is, as it always was, accomplished through some heavy duty examining of myself. Bull-headed I may be, but when life gives me reason to pause, I have found it wise to at least take the matter up with higher counsel…………….

Old age, it seems to me, carries with it a certain responsibility. More than ever is it necessary to view oneself with caution. I have both known and lived with those who seem to think such status a merit badge that automatically entitled them to special privileges. They had a “right”, they deemed, to impose their opinion, their anger, their “seniority”. I’m not so sure that longevity caused the attitude. More like it had just come “full fruit” from that which had been cultivated in earlier years. My own list of credits, however, give me no reason to think myself anything more than what I am and that’s just a guy who has been blessed to exist this long. I have no skills to speak of, no degrees, no certificates of achievement hanging on a wall somewhere. Ten years in the Navy. Thirty more as a railroad clerk. A wife who “hung in there” with me, and three daughters who have made me proud. Of those things I’m sure. Everything else still needs to be sorted out from time to time……………..

Art Lessons............."

Having spent the night on the living room sofa so that Mamaw might snuggle in bed with the grandkids, I found myself at the kitchen table this morning encouraging the little girl to draw her own pictures. Her request of me to doodle her own image usually evolves into the necessity of repeating the process until a family portrait is produced and I wasn’t really in the mood for a project of that magnitude. While she remained quite adamant about her own inability in that area, she finally suggested that she might find it possible to sketch her invisible friend. I agreed. Accepting my felt tip pen, she soon had something there before her that resembled a piece of toast which she introduced to me as “Sally”. When I asked if Sally had any hair, she immediately scribbled a ponytail on either side of the toast. “Eyes?”, then, was met with two squares, one grossly larger than the other, each with a dot in its center. “What about a nose?” I continued, and she circled the smaller square with an elongated blob. Therein MY error, for when I informed her of its positional incorrectness, she was quick to let me know that I was mistaken in thinking it to BE that particular part of the anatomy. “Glasses?” I proposed and transforming her singular lens into a framed set of spectacles. “No!” she protested and reached for a lead pencil there on the table only to discover that erasure was not an option. “Hummmph!”, she snorted. “I’m going to draw another and YOU’RE not going to mess it up!”……………

With age, they say, comes wisdom. That is, unless “they” are in a hurry to gain their inheritance; then its is called “senility”. Looking at sixty-three staring me in the face, however, what I can attest to is the fact that, while the body, indeed, fades and begins to wither, that part of us which is eternal remains constant. Who we are inside is changed only in its perception of its existence and that process occurs, it would seem to me, through the accumulation of knowledge based on our life experience. Let it be agreed, however, that such data is stored within a fleshly organ as subject to decadence as much as any other of our mortal members and, secondly, that while the information amassed may well be identical, it doesn’t mean that any two of us will interpret it the same way. Thus it is that “who we are” is not simply a matter of education, but rather individual wills and personalities born out of God-given entities which we refer to as soul and spirit. Both are forever young in the sense of “being”, but mature in the sense of putting reason to the world about them. NEVER do they arrive to the point of knowing it all. ALWAYS are they found with the possibility of being in error. CONTINUALLY moving forward and not quite the same as the day before…………

Forget the dictionary. In my own sense of definition, there are a few words which imply the involvement of the above two elements of our identity. When we speak of our “mind”, we refer to our spirit operating in conjunction with the brain. “Heart”, on the other hand, indicates the emotional soul in such reunion with our gray matter. “Conscience”, however, takes in all three of those constituents and points to that moral “watchdog” within us. When a Catholic friend recently enlightened me, though, as to his denomination’s belief that this third commodity must be “properly formed” through religious upbringing, I informed him that, while the phrase was new to me, the idea was not. Pentecoste has been preaching the same theme for years. What we also hold true, though, is the necessity for the whole “package” to be placed under the reins of an inner renewal of God’s Presence. Void of such Authority, we may be indoctrinated, but we’re still just “doing our own thing”. No doubt they have a term for that, too, but I think that what Steve and I both pray is that by providing a correct environment for our prodigy, somewhere down the road, they will find completeness in Him. Suffice it to say: you don’t have to draw them a picture if you’ll just “live it” before them……………

Just Wondering..........."

Last Sunday, Beth and I visited a small group attempting to birth a new assembly here in our area. The young couple who pastor it are old friends and have already survived nearly ten years of ministry, serving in various locations and capacities while putting themselves through school. Their journey has not been easy. Attached to a little church in Indiana, they weathered several seasons in an apartment created from what used to be a barn. With no insulation in the walls, electric heating, and a five-gallon water heater, summers were rough, winters were worse. When a door opened unto them in Reno, Nevada, they walked through it feeling led of God only to find themselves, by now with a small child, quartered within a single bedroom of someone’s home. While the situation was expected to last but two months, it would be seven before opportunity put them in a house of their own. The sale of that property a few years later, however, would allow them to return to us debt-free, purchase a place here, and start a work of their own unto which they believe themselves to be called.……….

If that gives vision to one of those television broadcasts of eight people gathered around a pulpit and some microphones while destroying a song to the best of their ability, the perception is not all that far from truth. Why congregations think such productions “minister” to anybody other than one of their own who might be ill and unable to attend is beyond me. In this instance, though, while we were, indeed, no more in attendance than thirty, babies and all, and music was reduced to a soundtrack system for the most part, I can honestly attest to a great spirit of worship within the sanctuary. To each their own, I suppose, as far as style. I, myself, welcome anything as long as it comes from the heart, is “anointed”, doesn’t puncture my eardrums, and at least has some quality of being on key. What I can attest to, in this instance, is some fine voices giving glory to His name. The sermon was meant to encourage the flock, but fed me as well and I’ll probably return this coming weekend……….

My only question in the whole matter is why God would choose to begin yet another outreach in a neighborhood populated by both numerous denominations and several “storefront” works already in progress. While I recognize that reformation within the faith took place almost no more than the disciples walked out of the Upper Room, yet it seems to me that the “Pentecostal” movement, in particular, is guilty of trying to propagate itself through “infestation” as much as by any other method. Three tambourines, a couple of offering pans, and anything that can serve as a pulpit is all that’s required to start your own little island in the middle of everything else out there. Sincerity in most of such effort is genuine, I’m sure, but so is the fact that, in our zeal, we can also mistake the cry of our own heart to be His. The proof, as far as I’m concerned, is in the fruit that comes forth. The real crisis is not so much erring in our humanity, but in refusing to “grow as we go” by not acknowledging that fact unto Him. Grace: God’s “superglue”. It works for me………

Table Tennis............."

Monday morning I discovered this list of statements made by Senator John Kerry that tend to contradict themselves. In passing them along to some of my relatives, it seemed wise to evaluate beforehand just who might appreciate the humor. As I noted to my little group of selectees, without a doubt there has to be such a set floating around the Internet attributed to Mr. Bush and, being the type who doesn’t wish to “stir up” debate, when and if I locate it, I’ll pass its contents along to the other side of the coin. With this as a “lead-in”, however, please excuse me if I “beat a dead horse” a little longer………….


Politics. Patriotism. In over two years of journaling, the two posts that have captured me the most response have concerned themselves with (a) care of the American flag and (b) registering to vote. People seem to equate the latter with a failure on one's part to perform his "civic duty". For the life of me, though, I can't see whereit isn't my responsibility to take a stand AGAINST what ails us as a country, rather than to simply perpetuate the problem. There can be no doubt that dividing ourself into two opinionated factions and then blaming the other side for everything that goes wrong appears to be the national pastime. There’s no lack of heartfelt animosity in THAT arena. Of course, maybe the verbal pugilism being accomplished without eliminating the opposition via some firing squad is, indeed, what separates us from most global entities. I remain puzzled, however, why one’s abstinence from the polls should indicate something foul in his pledge of allegiance. Surely when the statistics prove that a great deal less than fifty percent of the populace currently participate in the process, that’s one tremendous symptom (if you’ll pardon the pun) that’s something’s “rotten in Denmark” and not the other way around…………

Religion, then: the OTHER target of choice. For the past few decades, the “Full Gospel” assemblies have enjoyed the status of being the only ecclesiastical bunch recording any growth in number. Nonetheless, recent investigation reveal that we, too, are losing our conversions out the back door as fast (or faster) than they come in the front. The reality of Christ yet brings forth life from the tomb, but what is becoming very evident in our ranks, as it has in those who came before us, is that, with humanity still “in the garden”, paradise has problems. The pulpit, all too often, wants to blame the pew. I say maybe it needs to take a look in the mirror. Men do not need another “totem” complete with its own doctrinal Nicene Creed to connect them to their Creator and to each other. We hunger for a relationship, both vertically and horizontally, that meets us in our heart, not necessarily our head. The apostle Paul wrote unto the Galatians of two essentials that “availeth anything”. The first was a “new creature”; the second, “faith which worketh by love”. It seems to me that both requirements are as basic as it gets and will work in either arena presented here………..