A Heavenly Genealogy

     I was never much interested in genealogy. My surname is about as English as you can get, although I'm primarily Scotch-Irish, and there is a well known and much visited tower in London with the same name. My wife and I had an interesting experience almost two decades ago. A very popular and prolific Christian writer of historical fiction started a new series of books and a main character of the first book had my first and last name. Not only that but my wife thought that his physical description described me right down to the scar on the left cheek; the character's scar from dealing with the turmoil at the time of King Henry VIII and mine, not so heroic, from an infected spider bite while in the army. William Tyndale and John Bunyan even make appearances in this Reformation era book! She even wrote the author about this and received a very nice reply. I 'm really interested in hearing about other people's genealogical history. I just have no interest in my own. It wouldn't matter in the slightest if my ancestors were princes or paupers. There's only one ancestor that I'm concerned with and that is Adam in the Garden of Eden. I inherited his sin just as much as I inherited my father's high forehead. There's only one inheritance that matters and that's the imputed righteousness of Christ. This topic of conversation came up between my son and me when he was about 13 years old. I sat down at a computer and drew up this tartan that you see at the top. Every color in it has a meaning. The green signifies the world, the yellow the church and the scarlet line in the middle is the precious blood of Jesus Christ shed for us on Calvary. So this is our tartan of a heavenly genealogy, an adoptive Father and a spiritual Brother who is also our Lord, Our Savior and our coming King!

The Only Job Creator.....Redux

 I have followed politics to one degree or another for at least forty-four years now. I went from being a Kennedy Democrat to a Reagan Republican to what I am now, which I don't have a name for but let me describe it through the almost random thoughts of the following blog written in August of last year:

The Only Job Creator

Republicans tend to care for the poorer elements of society through promoting economic policies that, if enacted and allowed to run their course, would strengthen the economic fabric of the nation thereby giving opportunity to most, if not all, of those willing to take advantage of it. Democrats tended, at one time, to push for safety nets where all of those who cannot find that opportunity will at least be taken care of in the essentials needed. Conservatives tend to work as guardians of the free market, fully confidant that if there are no restrictions, growth and prosperity will naturally take place. Democrats now tend to don the chef's hat and apron, take up utensils and cut and stir while they add seasonings with one hand then the other as they attempt to be caterers to the disadvantaged, their own wages being political support from those catered to. Republicans tend to defend the Constitution at all costs in order for freedom and liberty to flourish. Democrats tend to labor more for the rights of the underprivileged, at the expense of the constitution if necessary, who they perceive to be discriminated against, if in nothing else, a disadvantaged starting position in the quest for prosperity. Republicans tend to exalt Capitalism as an essential organ in the body politic, and are satisfied with the results even if, as it is today, it has been shown that many cannot play this game. Democrats tend to take full advantage of that Capitalism while denying it to others who are more valuable being dependent on entitlements. In either scheme, the plight of the poor is not on the front burner. Theoretically the Republicans are correct but that theory has been greatly weakened by events in the course of human nature. The Democrat loses in the battle of theory, for theirs (socialism) has proven, time and time again, ineffective at best and disastrous at worst. Compounding the problem for the Democrat, they have proven to be ethically challenged as the entitlements originally meant to benefit the poor, with the advent of the radical progressive, now benefit themselves through their reelection coffers. The Capitalist model failed to take into consideration the dark elements of human nature, the machinations of the globalist (a prime example being George Soros,) the nefarious inventiveness of Wall Street and the corporate executive married to the stockholder after divorcing their employees and the public well-being. The Founding Fathers, on the other hand, most certainly did take human nature seriously in their formula of checks and balances. So, our freedoms and liberty have a fighting chance in the Constitution but our economies do not have a fighting chance for Capitalism relies on the DNA of the free market and is oblivious to the DNA of man for it has no checks and balances other than recessions and depressions. Normally this works but not in this globalist economy, and in this particular economy that is built upon the continual need to purchase-purchase-purchase, not essentials but non-essentials-often entertainments. We have put ourselves into the unenviable position of needing to curtail this personal spending, knowing full well that in doing so, our economy will sink even further into the abyss. Primarily because of the fallen nature of man, albeit for differing reasons and in different applications, both the Republican and Democratic answers to poverty cannot succeed. The former because it places compassion at the doorstep of the free market formula, acceptable in a mostly agrarian society and somewhat beyond but woefully lacking in the age of Apple, Google, Microsoft, Nike and Abercrombie & Fitch. The latter because, the safety net now is used to insure that everyone has the funds to purchase these products. We cannot avoid the plight of the poor and disadvantaged, in fact it should be an all-consuming passion to address these needs! We cannot relegate them to the hope of a functioning economic model nor throw entitlements at them for dubious reasons! God gave words to one particular prophet (Isaiah) in advising a king of Judah (Ahaz) who was seeking to buy redemption from Judah's enemies. Among those words were these "If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all." Our poor will not receive compassion, our enemies will not be turned away and we ourselves will languish in misery and instability, if we are not firm in faith of whom Isaiah described this way, "and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

Plan...As If God Will Have Mercy

I had an opportunity to stop by a college campus today, buy a few things at the bookstore and leave a few items around with this blog's URL on it hoping that some of the students might be inquisitive enough to stop by. When I get these opportunities I like to immediately write directly to those students. It's not the same world as only a few decades ago. Economies functioned normally then. One could choose any profession and do their very best. Sure there was greed in the marketplace and ethics violations everywhere but the perpetrators thereof didn't flaunt their vanities as they do today nor require submission to them. To make matters worse politics has unabashedly bullied industry after industry none more so than the EPA and electric power industry. Want to be a teacher... a lawyer... a doctor...it's a whole new ballgame today often requiring turning a blind eye to the creeds of those professions. My advice is the same that I give to our son. Your future depends on where this conflict in American culture goes. George McGovern just died and I would not use the word liberal in this blog in reference to what he believed, rather it would pertain to the the liberal of today who lives on the soundbite, who can easily don a Che' tee shirt, who pooh poohs the word communist without a care of what it really means. The adjective engaged can be used in many ways. Many of you may already have it in the back of your minds as in a pledge to marry but it also means, as Merriam-Webster puts it, "involved especially in a hostile encounter." Both sides in this ideological conflict today are already deeply engaged and the battles are mostly fought in the courts, under the Capitol rotunda and in the polling booth. Where this battle ends up will affect you. If the liberal or progressive wins it will be difficult for you, at least those of you at this particular college I visited today for ethics and honor are highly valued and taught. I don't claim to know what the outcome will be. God will either have mercy upon us as we return to Him or he will judge us. Here is my advice: pray for the former, prepare for the latter, but plan for God's mercy in restoring us to what we were once perceived to be. Become engaged yourself ....on your knees in prayer.  You don't want success in the alternative outcome, for you would not be able to take joy in it. You may still be looking for that profession, for that area to build your life upon. Dedicate it to God before you even know what it is.  Make plans that will bring glory to God even though today there is not a great call for plans as such. Should we as a people and as a nation humble ourselves before Him you will be prepared. You may not realize this now but you, should God have mercy upon us, will be the backbone of our nation; the responsibility is coming your way. Don't be unprepared, don't be caught unawares when it is your time. Make every moment count. Be thankful for the education before you. Be acutely aware of the temptations of peer pressure. Be a leader in your generation and resolve always and for ever to give all the glory to God who knows the numbers of hairs on your head, knows your beginnings and your ending and calls you over the cacophony of sounds that endanger even the best of colleges.

Grandpa's Weapons

This from 2009:     Grandpa's Weapons

At 108 years old, Mr. Sestak could barely hear the tone that announced an arriving autohover. He slipped his xglass over the bridge of his nose and looked at the north wall of his living room and saw through it to the bright green autohover that was his great-great-grandson Sail's. The autohover roof lifted and Sail jumped out waving at the outside of his grandpa's house, not seeing in but knowing that Grandpa would be looking at him. When inside he hugged the old gentleman for a long time knowing that his Grandpa probably only had another ten years left if he lived to the normal age expectation.

"Sail, what do I owe the honor of this pleasant surprise?

"Grandpa, I was hopin' that you could help me out with a project I have for school." Sail was 16 years old and graduating in a month from community school before entering his "required" four year Public Service Volunteer time.

"Well, It would be a privilege young man. Just what kind of project is it"? Sail shifted his feet while looking down, "Well, Grandpa, I know it's somethin' that you never talk about. A lot of people your age don't like to talk about it."

Old Mr. Sestak knew immediately what the topic was. "Sail, how did you happen to receive a project on this? I know the mentors don't like this talked about in school"

It was my idea and they said that I could do it as long as I didn't keep any of them"

Grandpa Sestak looked heavenward and shook his head. "Oh, they are "sooo" dangerous. Sail, I don't like to talk about it because it brings back memories, good memories, but memories of something that is no more."

"I know Grandpa. Quazr says that you once had a store that sold them and when they took them away, you never were the same." Quazr was Sail's father and old Mr. Sestak's great-grandson.

"Well, Sail, what shall we do for the project?"

"Thanks, Grandpa, I have the video obelisk right here." He pulled the three inch, tapered, four sided shaft with a small, barely visible lens, out of his shirt pocket. "I will ask you questions for ten minutes and that's it. I show it to the class and my final year project is done!"

Mr. Sestak's eyes appeared sad as he thought of a final year project that could be done in a few minutes, but that was the way the schools educated in this age.

Sail had set the video obelisk on the table where they were sitting and pointed it at his Grandpa.

"Grandpa, you own some now, don't you?"

Yes, Sail, I have fourteen that I was allowed to own as keepsakes."

"Were you ever hurt by one?"

Grandpa laughed. "Oh yes, when I was your age , I took a hit or two, but once you know them better, they are one of the greatest gift's that God gave to us."

"Why did they ban them then if they were so good?"

"Men were, and are, afraid of them Sail, if you just play with them and don't take them seriously at all, they can do more damage than good."

"Can I see one?"

Mr. Sestak looked over at the locked cabinet and stared for a few seconds. He had not had one out for a while. He walked over and reached on top, searched a while before pulling down a key. His fingers fumbled a little while he negotiated the lock and then opened the door. Sail was leaning forward on the edge of his chair, he had only seen pictures of them on his video monitors.

Mr. Sestak slowly pulled one out and clutched it with both hands so as not to drop it. There was no dust on them for he had cleaned them every so often. He held it out in front of him and walked towards Sail.

"Sail, I'm glad that this is your project. I should have showed you these years ago. Maybe some day, Lord willing, they will relax their restrictions and we once again can make great use and take great joy in them." He stretched out his arms and offered it to Sail. Sail took it, forgetting that he was on video or he would not have looked so boyish. He felt around the edges and looked up at his Grandpa.

"Go ahead Sail, open it."

"Wow!" Then remembering his classmates will be watching, he took on a more sober look.

"This...is a...book!" He lifted the cover... "THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."

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Our son and his lovely wife live a few hundred miles away and like other parents in this situation we really enjoy visiting them or when they come back home. At some point in that visit I think he knows that I'll make at least one comment on Facebook. On our last visit it was the simply "Facebook is a scourge upon America and the world!" I can't help it. Facebook is so impersonal, so fake, so narcissistic and so potentially dangerous in so many ways that I won't let up on it. If like me you sometimes just sit and wonder how we in America  got ourselves in the mess we are in, you can start if you want with the devolution of the sermon in America, move on to television, and later come to Facebook and social networking, Twitter et al. I'll recommend two very good books for you here. The first is The Vanishing Word, The Veneration of Visual Imagery by Arthur W. Hunt III, and the second is The Shallows, What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr of which I wrote a review on November 7, 2010.

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N...E...W...P...A...R...A...D...I...G...M

Rummaging through an old file cabinet, a few sheets of paper fell out, an essay I had written some years ago about a futuristic society. I thought that I might use it as one of my blogs:

The following is a futuristic essay on the demise of the "word" in favor of the "image." My contention is that Postmodernism is a "trojan horse". Outwardly, it defends the rights of the "marginalized" and the "other." Inwardly, it is rebellion against truth and anything that proclaims or relays it.

The police cruiser pulled up to the curb. There were no markings on it as it was only identifiable by its colo,s as were the uniforms of the officers. The license plates were holograms that could only be discerned by the hand held scanners carried by most citizens. Immediately, two officers emerged from the car and spray painted over the obsolete and illegal, five-foot graffiti letter "R." scrawled on the wall of the city newspaper, the Image. The "R" did not stand for anything in particular for "words" were no longer in existence in written form. The year is 2040. Ten years had passed since alphabets, words, and any symbolism other than images, were banned. Anarchists were active but dwindling in number and would occasionally paint a letter or a number on walls to show disdain for the new society of the "image."
The cataclysmic cultural change came under the headline of "evolving paradigm." The beginning of the 21st century had seen a religious awakening of immense proportions. Traditionalists battled New Classers in the political arena and lost. The "written word" of the religious was deemed the culprit in slowing the evolution of the new paradigm. Had the battle been relegated to words, the Traditionalists would have won. The New Classers, with the help of the media and Higher Education, forced the venue of argument to images. In what may have been the biggest mistake of any ideological conflict, the religionists acquiesced and entered the arena of the image. Television and film captured the sparring between the two sides. The religionists were no match for a debate of images, whether actual film footage or dramatized productions, for the human mind could only go so far in analysis of images. Their most powerful weapon, the written word, sat impotent and useless. The"Image Party," as they were now called, controlled the Congress. The most powerful cabinet position in the Executive Branch became the newly formed Department of the Academy.
There was a celebration of power going on among academics who were widely viewed as liberators of the mind. It took years, but books were gradually replaced by instruction players of all kinds. New technologies made it possible for instruments the size of a pack of gum, to not only voice instruct, but send a beam of instructive film footage on any blank wall. There was no evening newspaper, rather a slide that fit into any inexpensive player and gave all the news with pictures and commentary on the living room wall. One would choose a certain spaghetti sauce by the picture of either ingredients or a graphic chosen for the taste. They would press the red "instruction dot" on the package to hear directions for preparations. Traveling upon the highway, one might see the image for Pittsburgh or Buffalo on signs. They would travel at a speed indicated by the color of signs. If stopped for a violation, they would produce a drivers license that spoke to the officer.
That transition had not come easily. Multitudes rebelled at first but the power of Higher Education relegated those who clung to the written word to servile jobs. Even the most staunch Traditionalists encouraged the children to seek the "best" in life. Children ten years old and younger had no idea what the alphabet was. Teens would watch their favorite football team and discern who the players were by the personalized images on the jerseys. A request to turn on CBS would fall on deaf ears for it was simply Columbia. They no longer associated a "letter" with anything. Numbers existed but as sounds. How did one add or subtract? They simply spoke into a "cypher recorder" and it spoke back. America led the way and the world followed, happy that this former bastion of patriotism and religion had transformed itself.
Problems with the "new image" paradigm first occurred in the courts. To the unindoctrinated observer, a jury trial would seem normal as it progressed, save for the lack of paper in anyone's hand. The problem was in the mind of the juror. For ten years, the power to analyze remained dormant. They would initially beam with interest as the trial proceeded but when the time for deliberations came, they would sit befuddled. Their inability to analyze could not scratch the surface of intricate problems. they could not easily come to any decisions whether guilty or innocent. Such decisions were becoming rare. Mistrials were flooding the courts and crime was practically impossible to punish. The Image Party countered by doing away with jury trials in many states and letting judges decide the matter. Judges experienced the same problem as juries and convictions increased only because quotas were imposed on judges and they arbitrarily met those quotas.
Academia squirmed in their chairs over this problem. they were already beset with "grading" problems since no letters remained. Diplomas had to resort to waxen images of the institution. The "great advances" of the New Class had returned society to the imprimatur of the Roman Caesar. The sciences fared no better, The first generation of scientists under the new paradigm took technology to heights not even previously imagined. The second generation could use the new technology but expand upon it not one iota.
The family suffered the most. There came to be no distinction between father and mother. To begin with, same sex marriages had increased to half of what traditional marriages were. No one could explain adequately to children why they should be obedient. Even the former president of Harvard, now the Secretary of the Academy, wept openly as one of his students received a Rhodes Scholarship for his work on "the Future Possibility of the Eradication Of Human Conception In Favor Of Satellite Wombs."
The officers returned their spray paint cans to their sacks when a man emerged from the shadows and began to shout "A...B...C" The officers immediately pounced upon him and dragged him to the car. "D...E...F" he continued. They threw him down before the magistrate who said "You are being charged with speaking letters." How do you plead? "G...U...I...L...T...Y" he answered. He was held for trial but acquitted for the judges quota had already been reached. The government did not stop at this and he was incarcerated anyway. He appealed. The Supreme court had one more case to fill their docket and he was the last petitioner. The case, "The Government vs the Letter" made nightly news. Television cameras surrounded the justices as both parties squared off. The petitioner chose to represent himself and spelled out every word of his defense. The Government objected but the court, whose average age was 37, could not agree as to if the defense procedure was admissible. The petitioner continued. Americans watched on their screens as letters were brought fresh to their memories. the court received millions of pieces of mail in the ensuing week. Most of these were not made with oral messaages of the day but deliberately scrawled letters forming words. The judges sat in their chambers reviewing the case but could not block out the sound of thousands of people outside shouting "A...B...C...D."
The whole nation awaited the court's decision. Where had the New Class gone wrong? They had successfully obliterated letters and books. How could such an immense groundswell of support for a return to this archaic paradigm exist? The man who had initiated this furor sat in a pew. His was one head in hundreds looking to the man in a pulpit wearing a black robe who preached from the Bible. Not from a book but from God's computer chip of the mind, the memory. He would recite verses and the people would complete the verses from memory. The church was packed with journalists standing around the back in order to see the petitioner when the Supreme Court came down with the decision. A snippet of the service was played on the national news. Academics from across America sat and watched and nearly to a man and woman, it became clear to them that they had failed to silence the most powerful conduit for Traditionalist thinking of all. They originally thought "Go ahead...preach. what good will it do without the antiquated corresponding symbols?" They had miscalculated. The power was obviously in the preached word, not the symbols. Fear enveloped the New Class as they watched this demonstration.
Letters were being shouted across the land. Automobile drivers would stop at red lights and yell out their windows "S...T...O...P" and then "G...O..." when the light changed. Cashiers at grocery stores would say "S...E...V...E...N...D...O...L...L...A...R...S...P...L...E...A...S...E" and customers would reply "T...H...A...N...K...Y...O...U." The populace was revolting. Word was in that a decision had been returned from the Supreme Court. It seemed that the whole world was tuning in. Supreme Court Chief Justice Katlyn Jones stood and glared at the media present. She then said "In the case of "The Government vs the Letter".....we find in favor of the.....P...E...T...I...S...I...O...N...E...R." Celebrations took place in every city and small town in America. Masses of people rushed their municipal buildings and state houses. not with guns, but with books long since secretly stored in dusty attics. Thus was the fall of the New Class and beginnings of a new hope.

 

Caution...Enter At Your Own Risk!

The following paragraph is the ending of a blog written in October of 2010. My wife and I once owned a Christian bookstore. As I was pondering the words from this previous blog a thought came to mind of something that I wished I had done when we had that store. In my job I occasionally have to run yellow caution tape around an area that work is being done in. It's a warning that you may enter but be extra careful of what is around you. If we still had that bookstore I would run that yellow caution tape around the Bibles with a sign attached saying Enter at your own risk...your life as it now is, indeed your entire paradigm of life, may change!" And there wouldn't be an ounce of hyperbole in that statement. If you came across this blog by the bumper sticker on my car, and if the Bible up till now is only a book to you, then there may be a transformation ahead....a regeneration to be more specific.  You may indeed see the Bible as boredom or you may see your previous goals and desires as boredom. God will either open your eyes or He will not. Plead with Him to open them!

Handle With Care....October, 2010

".......please consider that when you pick up a Bible to read, that you hold in your hands words inspired by God. Without the movement of God's Spirit on us, they will be just words but under the power of His Spirit their meaning not only begins to become clear but they reverberate every atom of our being, every neuron involved in our thinking. Consider these words from Hebrews 4:12 For the Word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. If one wishes to remain in rebellion to God one would do well to not pick up His Word for, should God will it, it will make very clear the folly and repercussions of holding on to our own autonomy. It will convict the conscience. On the other hand, if one (in sincerity and humility) desires to see just what is in this perceived time capsule...... it will be an illumination that is easy on the eyes, sweet to the pallet, exhilarating to the touch, soothing to the ears and of a pure aroma of cleanliness. It is powerful and will remain powerful even unto old age. It is provision for all that we will need on this journey. It is nourishment. It is radiation to kill cancer cells (of the soul) and minerals to build bones. It is exercise, laughter and fulfillment. It is knowledge and understanding, intellect and emotion, humility and motivation. It is oxygen itself to the Christian life but it is kryptonite to Nietzsche's uberman. It will not only cause you to love but define love itself. Its unity will bring division. Discerning its division will bring unity to the mind. So, the next time that you pick up a Bible, please know that if you are not careful, an ax may be laid at the root of your paradigm of life"

I want to add to this description. The Bible is also utter despondency, sorrow, grief and tears as we see ourselves in His Word as in a mirror, for it can be no other way but there is a balm that soon turns that despair into hope, sorrow into joy, grief into peace and tears into laughter, and afterwards we know with certainty the words of Romans 8:31 are true.... "if God is for us, who can be against us!"

1962.......Redux

It may not be Texas but high school football in Western Pennsylvania is a big thing nonetheless and this is the season for it. Taking advantage of this I'd like to republish a short story about high school football, a young man, a young lady and the gospel of Jesus Christ:

1962

Tommy Wilson walked in, beat and worn out, to the apartment where he and his mother lived. She had been holding dinner off until 7 o'clock every night so that Tommy could go to football practice and then to Spinoza's Market to work for a few hours after practice every day.

Tommy's mother: "Welcome home Johnny U!"
Tommy: "I'm on special teams mom. Johnny Unitas is a quarterback."
Tommy's mother: "Oh. Excuse me! Any new bruises today?"
Tommy: "Yeah. My right shin is really bruised."

Tommy was a senior at Catowaga High School in Buffalo, New York and going out for football for the very first time, for he was on a mission. You see, Tommy was in love with Mary Burns. Mary's family had moved to Buffalo the year before from Chattanooga, Tennessee. Her father was an airline pilot and this is where the job was. Tommy and his mom did not have a lot of money. He would have wanted to buy a ring or a necklace that he could give to Mary so that everyone would know that Mary was his girl but what he finally decided on was going to take a lot of effort. He wanted to make the football team and earn a varsity letter, put it on a sweater, and give it to Mary. All the guys who had lettered had given the lettered sweaters to their girlfriends. One problem that Tommy had was that he had never played football before. You had to get into ten quarters to earn a varsity letter. After a week of practice the coach had told Tommy that the only way he would ever get into a game would be on the kickoff team, and that... only if he could learn to tackle. Tommy had given more effort than anyone on the team, flying down the field and literally throwing his body at charging players. Working at Spinoza's Market would provide him enough money to give some to his mom and also buy the wool sweater for $37.50. That was the plan anyway.

Mary: "Tommy, I'm really worried about you. You get hurt almost every practice and you work so hard afterwards at Spinoza's. Are you sure that you really want to do this? You know that football doesn't mean anything to me."
Tommy: "Mary, I have to do this. Football will be over in December and then I can slow down."

He had not told Mary about the plan or the importance of others knowing that she was his girl. Mary was a Christian girl from the south who always talked about the Lord. He never talked this way about God and didn't know anyone else who did.

Mary: "Tommy. The Bible says that one has to be born again. You should think about this and try to understand what it means."
Tommy: "Mary. I believe in God. I may not be perfect but who is," and then sheepishly added "except maybe you,"
Mary: "You know that I'm not perfect Tommy. Actually I'm far from it since I know the Lord and still cannot live as I should!"
Tommy: "Well you seem pretty close to perfect...in everything...to me Mary."

Tommy's coach was not particularly happy that He expected to win a letter. This was only his second year with the Chargers and he was going to succeed and make coaching his profession. Catawaga had never had a winning football season. They were 0 and 10 the year before Coach Thomas came and 4 and 6 his first year as coach. "Come hell or high water," as the coach would say, they were going to have a winning season this year and that meant 6 wins. The assistant coach, Coach Offen, was a football coach second and a history teacher first. He admired the spunk of this young light-weight senior who for some reason just had to win a varsity letter. His efforts probably helped influence Coach Thomas from cutting Tommy.

Coach Offen: "Are you alright Wilson?"
Tommy: "Yeah coach. I think I forgot to hit with my shoulder instead of my head."
Coach Offen: "Sit down for a while Tommy."
Tommy: "Do I have to coach? I feel OK."

Coach Thomas came over as Tommy headed for the bench.

Coach Thomas: "That kids going to kill himself and get us all in trouble."
Coach Offen: "I'll keep an eye on him Mike. He'll be alright."

Tommy liked to take Mary to this new hamburger joint called McDonald's. It was only 19 cents for a burger and that was all that he could afford on his budget. Mary carried a little Bible with her at all times and liked to sneak in about ten minutes of scripture reading to him every time they were together. Tommy was glad they didn't live in the South for they took religion all too seriously. The first game was the next day and Tommy didn't know if he would get in for the coach gave no clues. The game started and he wasn't on the field for the opening kickoff, nor for the two others in the first half. Catawaga was winning 21 nothing when they took the field in the second half. Coach Thomas barked out orders and yelled Tommy's name for the kickoff without even looking at him. Tommy's first experience in a football game was not all that encouraging. He ran down the field and was belted by someone twice his size...but he had one quarter in for his letter. He wasn't in the game for the fourth quarter. The next week was one of gruelling practices. Tommy hit every opposite colored practice jersey that he had a chance to. Coach Offen patted him on the back but Coach Thomas never acknowledged him. The Chargers were 1 and 0 going into the second game. Again Tommy didn't play in the first half but his name was called for the kickoff in the second half. He flew down the field and hit the first jersey he came to who fell back into the ball carrier enabling his teammates to reach the runner and bring him down. Tommy had actually contributed! He had another chance in the fourth quarter. The kick was real short, someone in the middle had picked up the ball and Tommy had a chance to hit a ball carrier for the first time. Just as he was about to lower his head for the tackle, he was blocked hard and thought that he heard his finger snap. The trainer wrapped it up and later the doctor told him that it was separated and it would keep him out of football for three weeks at least. Tommy now had three quarters of the ten that he needed but the season would be half over when he would be able to play again. The Chargers were 3 and 2 so Coach Thomas was not on the warpath as he had been in the past. The 6th game saw Tommy only get in once in the fourth quarter but he now had four quarters of game play with four games left.

Mary: "Tommy, you played really well last night. You hit that big number 70 real hard!"
Tommy: "But I didn't move him Mary. I can't expect to earn a letter if I can't help the team ."
Mary: "Is that what this is all about...a letter? Why is it so important?"
Tommy: "Well...uh...I just have to win a varsity letter in high school, that's all."

Tommy had a fairly good week of practice but didn't get into the 7th game at all and the team lost. The team was now 4 and 3 and Coach Thomas hardly even practiced Tommy. Tommy thought that he heard Coach Offen mention Tommy's name to Coach Thomas. He couldn't hear what was being said but neither one of them looked very happy. Game 8 went well from the start and the Chargers were up 30 to 0 at the half. There were 10 quarters left and Tommy needed to get into 6 of them. It seemed impossible but Tommy kept giving everything that he had. He was in on the kickoff beginning the second half and Coach Offen slapped him on the back with encouragement. Tommy ran hard down the field and the runner advanced about 20 yards and found himself running straight at Tommy who lowered his head and dove for his legs. The runner went down and Tommy's teammates were slapping Tommy on the helmet but he hurt his finger again and didn't tell anyone. The Chargers put their third string in for the fourth quarter and did not score at all so their was no chance for Tommy to get in. The next week Tommy got in on the opening kickoff but the team was down 28 to 0 at the half and that was it for Tommy. There was now one game left and Tommy needed to get in all four quarters. His finger hurt all week but he hit everything in sight in practice. He was actually learning the game of football with one game left in his career. The team now had 5 wins and 4 losses and needed to win the last game for Coach Thomas to have his winning season. Tommy thought it impossible to get in for all four quarters but Coach Offen told him just to make the plays and it will turn out. It seemed as if Coach Offen had talked to Coach Thomas or something. Tommy was in on the first kickoff and hit a blocker knocking him down. The runner came next and Tommy latched onto his legs for the tackle. It was a high scoring game for three quarters while Tommy was in on every kickoff and made three tackles. Catawaga was losing 28 to 27 in the last quarter of the season and the Chargers could not move the ball nor could the other team. Time was running out on his plan. Five minutes were left in the game, then 4, 3, 2. Waltersville, their main rival, had the ball on their own 10 yard line with a one point lead and only 15 seconds left in the game. Tommy had tears in his eyes. He looked up in the stands and saw Mary looking down at him. She pointed to the sky and Tommy knew what she meant...the Lord was more important than football. Tommy began to feel guilty because his team was about to lose, his coach was not going to reach his goal, but he only cared about himself. The game was just about over when Coach Thomas yelled out Tommy's name. Tommy jumped up and looked at him. The coach told him to go in for Davis in the defensive backfield. Tommy had only played that position in practice, more of a body needed than anything else. He started running out on the field and everyone was yelling at him that he forgot his helmet. He reached the defensive huddle and now had his ten quarters. Why would Coach Thomas do this, especially as they were about to lose? His teammates were oblivious to this. They only had one more play on their mind. The quarterback took the snap and handed off to the fullback who broke through the line and came right at Tommy. Tommy ran straight at him and hit him as hard as he ever hit anyone. Tommy was knocked on his back but heard shouts. He had caused a fumble and everyone was running after the ball. One guy fell on it only to have it squirt out towards Tommy. There was no time to think about anything. He picked it up and ran towards the goal. He was hit short of it but before he fell was hit from behind by a teammate and then another. He felt his feet hit the ground and pushed one more time in the scrum with players in front but more in back. He fell but held onto the ball and could hear yells. What had happened? The referee was pulling players off until he saw Tommy and raised his arms signalling a touchdown. Everyone was pulling at him, slapping him, yelling at him. He had scored the winning touchdown. The Chargers beat their rival and finished the season at 6 wins and 4 losses. Tommy was in a bit of shock. As he walked back towards the sideline he saw Coaches Thomas and Offen talking. Coach Thomas was smiling and shaking his head up and down.

Mary: "Tommy you were unbelievable. You were the hero...and now you'll get your letter."
Tommy: "Mary. I'll tell you later just why I had to have that letter."

Two weeks later was the football banquet where the varsity letters would be given out. Everyone was given two tickets to the dinner to give to their parents. Friends could buy their own. Tommy's mother and Mary would be at his table. The Chargers colors were white and red so Tommy had bought a white wool sweater at Anderson's Department Store and was ready to sew the red letter on the day after the banquet. Tommy's mom had picked up Mary in their 1957 Ford Fairlane and met Tommy at the banquet, for he had gone early for instructions on the ceremony. Tommy was the only senior to be given a letter for the first time. Coach Thomas said a few words about every player that came up to the podium. When he came to Tommy he had this to say:

"Quite frankly, I never expected Tommy Wilson to earn this letter. It is near impossible to earn a varsity letter as a senior without ever having played a down of organized football. In fact, and I'm ashamed to admit it, I was more than a little bit annoyed by his determination, but Coach Offen had faith in Tommy's abilities...abilities that I did not see. He nearly twisted my arm to get Tommy in all four quarters of that last game. Come on up for your letter Tommy. You deserved it as much as anyone on this team."

Tommy was red faced and looked to Coach Offen and smiled as he returned to his table. He gave his varsity letter to his mom and held Mary's hand tight.

Mary: "Well Tommy, I'm so proud of you and now you have that letter that you wanted so much!"
Tommy: "Mary, I never told you why I wanted this letter so bad. All the other guys have something to give to their girls to show everyone that they are their girlfriends. They can afford nice rings and have cars to drive them around in. They take them to the prom and I can't afford that. I worked for that varsity letter to put on a sweater and ask you if you would wear it for the rest of the year. I would be so proud to see you in it, knowing that you are showing everyone that we love each other."
Mary: "Tommy...I had no idea that you felt this way! I...I'm in shock...and I...I have to tell you what is going through my mind right now. Tommy, everyone will one day stand before God after a lifetime of sin, and He will look at them to see if they belong to His Son Jesus. And do you know how He will know? All of those who have trusted in Jesus Christ...and Him alone to save them...will be dressed in white....the Righteousness of Christ. He will give them white robes to show that they are His! The Father will only see what Jesus has done! That's why Jesus came here...to live the perfect life that we cannot live...and to die for our sins...and be resurrected for our redemption as His children! Tommy. If we trust in anything of ourselves we are pulling back that robe of righteousness revealing our sin. God may have given you this determination to win a varsity letter and put it on a sweater just to show you this! When we are born again we see these things Tommy."

Tommy couldn't say a word. The Mary that he loved so much was the Mary that loved Jesus so much. He sometimes felt jealous over this but how wrong he had been! For the very first time he understood what Mary had been trying to tell him. He felt that God must love him for showing him this. He had doubted this before because he had grown up without a father. Tommy felt tears forming in his eyes and turned his head. His mother was just returning to her seat. She had his sweater in her hand and the red varsity letter "C" was sown on. She had secretly brought the sweater with her and returned to her car to sew on the letter. Tommy looked lovingly into his mother's eyes, took the sweater and turned back to Mary. She had stood up and took off the vest that she was wearing. Tommy offered her the sweater and she carefully put it on and sat down.

Mary: "Thank you Tommy."
Tommy looked at her with wet eyes and said:
"Maybe we can both put on something white tonight with the letter "C" on it?"

They held hands as the principle turned on the microphone again and said:
"Well the Supreme Court recently ruled that God cannot come into our schools anymore. Maybe someday we will have to comply....but not tonight! Heavenly Father. Thank you for this night, and for the food we are about to receive..."

May We See Our Culpability In Our Distress

To my brothers and sisters in Christ: We know that we are in the world but should not be of the world. We are to be separate from the world for we are pilgrims in this life on our way to, as Bunyan called it, the Celestial City. I'm certain that this is easier in some countries than in others and possibly harder in America than any other country on earth. Why is this?  We have associated ourselves too much with the United States of America, going so far as to calling America a Christian nation which it never was. We partook of the unity that is so important to the strength of America but failed to only apply that unity to our patriotic and civic duty. We confused God's blessing upon our nation with being God's chosen nation. And we talked ourselves into believing that God would never let us fall for He loves us too much. All miscalculations, all serving only to blur the separation with the world that we are to have. Our latest failure was in not letting it be known early and at crunch time that we could not support a Mormon to be president thereby giving the Church of Jesus Christ Latter-day Saints what they have coveted since their beginnings, that being a Mormon leading America and proselytizing through that aura, power and influence. A first time reader to this blog might think me unpatriotic but nearly four years of blogs show a strong love of this country but a love less than for He who causes all nations to either rise or fall according to His purposes. But these aren't the only reasons that not only make us in this world but of it. I struggle all the time with this issue and lose most of that time. The desire not to have to deal with this is very strong. When alone, it is clear what I should do and how I should act but when I leave the confines of personal time I quickly talk myself into believing that I can win others over by being part of them. I do not influence them rather they influence me. If there are some out there who have not failed in this area may God bless and reward them for it but overall we as a Christian church in America have indeed failed. If this were not the case we would not be facing the dangers that we presently face. We also know that God works in many ways that are hard for us to comprehend. This is my hope, that we will see our culpability in our distress, that He will awaken us in the midst of it and that His mercies will be extended one more time not only to our nation but to multitudes who do not now know him!

Have You Had A Taste?

I don't know how many times my wife has (lovingly) said to me "I can't take you anywhere."  We were at a wedding reception two Saturdays ago and I stepped out on the porch with a friend to smoke a cigar before the meal came but didn't want to be absent when the food was served. There was a frosted window with a thin clear line of glass around the border and I peaked through it to see if it was time to go in. When I focused I could see a lady combing her hair in front of a mirror! My wife is right, she can't take me anywhere. I don't function well in groups of  more than say.....two. On the other hand, one-on-one conversations are one of the great joys of life to me. Maybe that's why I do this blog? It is particularly in sharing the gospel that I want to be one-on-one and this because the person I'm talking to is more open and less defensive. I like to be able to pause at times to collect my thoughts......................................................................................................Where was I?  Oh yeah, in a blog like this the reader has no peer pressure to deal with. It's really not me and you, it's you and God. Have you ever had a taste of the gospel? Has there ever been a time when God seemed real, when His goodness, His power and His majesty temporarily overwhelmed you? Then you have indeed tasted of His glory, but only tasted! The following blog is from October 12th of 2009 and it's about my first taste of the Gospel:

Have You Had A Taste Yet?

I'm an incurable pack rat. My wife came up to me yesterday with a gray disk, about the size of a silver dollar and wanted to know if I knew what it was. It was slightly bevelled and had little holes throughout. I had no idea what it was and she was about to throw it away. What! Wait a second. If we throw this out there will be a day when I need a disk about the size of a silver dollar, slightly bevelled with little holes throughout. She'll never learn. Just throw the thing out and don't ask me about it. I have in my hands, well actually I'm typing but I have here in front of me a book that I bought from the National Record Mart on the Pitt campus in the winter of 1973. Its title is Reach Out, The Living New Testament (illustrated.) It was published by Tyndale and I paid $2.95 for it. It has just a little bit of commentary in it and was aimed at young adults. I showed up at church services in Vietnam when in a solemn and introspective mood but the thought of church never entered my mind during my last 7 months at Fort Bragg. I started at Pitt in January of 1973. It was a heady time. I read constantly, occasionally even textbooks from classes that I was supposed to be reading. I would take my latest book into the college bar and my friends and I would discuss philosophy or some other subject that we were interested in until we could no longer pronounce our words. That's when my genius really came out. I remember one night particularly well. We were discussing The Teachings of Don Juan by Carlos Castaneda. Here was a UCLA anthropology grad student taking lessons from a Yaqui Indian shaman on how peyote was instrumental to understanding the mysteries of life. We were absorbed in this while unaware that a couple of quarts of Budweiser did the same thing. In between this nonsense I would occasionally show up at St. Paul's Cathedral. It would be almost a decade before God opened my eyes and I could see the marvel of the gospel and the majesty of His Son, but I had a taste in 1973. Sometimes I open this book up and press the pages to my face, smelling them and remembering how that word Jesus would thrill me before I even understood. I'll read a few verses from this paraphrased translation, for it not a true translation, and be transported back for only a moment. And only a moment is what I would want for I was then lost. I was in love with me and only the grace of God kept me from facing Him until a time when He would use the words of the Bible as a mirror where I would see only corruption. There are so many mysteries that will be explained to us when this life is done but none to me as impenetrable now as why God opened my eyes! If you are firm in your decision to reject God, and you want a good excuse to bolster your case, just think of me. If God would redeem me, then there is no fairness in the world. And don't listen to the voice on the other shoulder that says If God would forgive someone like me, then there is hope for you also. And whatever you do, don't open His book!

Tall Hats And Gold Watch Fobs....Redux

David Axelrod and Karl Rove are two men very different in their ideologies, that depending on if Karl Rove even has an ideology, but very similar in their callings. In this hi-tech age coupled with a populace that seems dependent on technology to do their thinking, elections are won by the most innovative and all too often the most scheming and unethical. A lot of political hay has been made by the constant replaying of a women in Cleveland and what has become known as the Obamaphone. The racial innuendo in this cause celeb should more than stifle the air of freedom and liberty that we on the right believe ourselves to be living in. Is this a tactic that God will honor? The Republican Machine ramrodded their candidate through the primaries with the precision of Lasik eye surgery and when we, the conservatives, were soundly beaten we commenced to swallow hook, line and sinker the candidacy of Mitt Romney, a man who is apolitical on many of the issues that really matter. I brought this up before that the office of the President as it exists today plays perfectly into the hands of the elites of both parties and the world. Money and ingenuity wins the battle and therefore the war and the only thing that it does is determine which elites rule, neither of which will defend the causes of the conservative or the libertarian. There is only one answer to our problems, that being a God fearing, culture decrying, Rule of Law people who, in effect, take back their government through the ones whose branch offices are never more than a few miles away...the Congress. I realize that my fellow conservatives can become apoplectic at my stance but I ask them to consider that we cannot salvage our nation while scuttling our conscience. With Gettysburg still in my mind I add the following blog from March of this year.

Tall Hats And Gold Watch Fobs

There's a scene from Ted Turner's Gettysburg where Brigadier General John Buford, played by Sam Elliot, scans rocky heights and farm land that would in one day become a battlefield and literally spews out these words as he foresees carnage in the Union army if the politicians and generals play their war games as usual, "afterwards men in tall hats and gold watch fobs will thump their chests and say 'what a brave charge it was'..... I've never seen anything as brutally clear as this.... Its as if I can actually see the blue troops in one long bloody moment....as if it were already done....as if tomorrow already happened and there ain't nothin you can do about it..." He went on to lay a plan to change that, "We can block that road till the main body gets here, and deprive the enemy of the high ground!" There are a significant number of Americans who feel the same way about our nation today. The Republican elite, or Republican Establishment are the "men with tall hats and gold watch fobs" who are playing their political games while bursting forth all around us (in the opposition party) have been venomous attacks on our Constitution, our national defense, our financial stability, the American Creed and the very essence of our being, that being a nation blessed by God, (while) packs of wolves split us and devour those that did not have the foresight to prepare themselves for such an onslaught. The high ground in this coming election, should the Lord even permit us to get there, is at the feet of Jesus Christ, humbly prostrating ourselves for thinking we could do anything at all, let alone succeed and flourish as we had in the past, without reverence to and dependence upon Him. The GOP elite seek just the opposite. They avoid the One who guided those ships to these shores so many years ago, who gave us the perseverance to blaze out upon the frontier, who gave wisdom to men in founding a nation, who in spite of our waywardness kept us together and strengthened us as Nazism, Fascism, Communism and all sorts of totalitarianism swept this beautiful ball hanging in the expanse of His universe. This is the answer they give...shun Him, and those who trust Him, and make our own paths! I easily turn to those scripted words given to General Buford for unless we block that road we will lose the high ground of our calling and America will no longer exist in its present form. We will have let down our God, our country and our children. The ballot box is only one target of our prayer and petition and it would do us well to remember David's words in Psalm 18:1-3:

I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock my fortress and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

Yea, Though I Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death....

OK, I just returned from Gettysburg.......again. It seems like I write that a lot for Gettysburg is like a magnet to me. If I’m going to Ocean City, New Jersey or any points east the car seems to veer off to Gettysburg for a rest, but this time my wife and I actually had to go to there for reasons other than the battlefield and it also just happened to be our anniversary. There’s been a lot going on lately so we did things a little bit differently in celebration of it. We decided to pick out our own gift as we walked the town and shopped in the stores. My wife picked out a pair of pearl earrings inside a thin sterling loop. As for me, I came across something that signified man and sin, redemption, true glory and everlasting peace.  I’m not really into relics. Maybe this comes from my Protestant Christian faith that shuns relics like the plague for the whole concept of a piece of anything that may have belonged to anyone having any intrinsic value other than intellectual or personal interest is way too close to being an occult fetish. Do I compromise this in my great love of visiting historical sites? I don’t think so for I know that it does not make me anything special nor give me any added powers. Anyway, I found myself walking slowly past locked glass cases of various Civil War relics that were for sale, most of which had been found on the battlefields of Gettysburg and identified as such. I really wouldn't have even considered asking the price of anything but one of these relics stopped me in my tracks.  It was smaller than a quarter and I had to ask for the glass case to be opened to examine it closer. I typically spend about 15 minutes picking out black socks so I was there quite a while just looking at it when the salesperson offered to call the owner of that particular item so I could talk to him. We had a nice conversation and I told him that I wasn’t a collector but was just intrigued by this piece of the Civil War that he owned. He assured me that it was legitimate, as best as one can tell for items like this. So I bought it as my anniversary present.

It is most likely that on that hot July 3^rd, 1863 as Picket’s Division of the Army of Northern Virginia came out of the tree line of Seminary Ridge, steel bayonets shining so that even the Army of the Potomac troops were momentarily in awe, that one of those men wore this tiny cross around his neck, and then lost it on the uphill charge to the copse of trees and Union lines, and there it remained until locals scoured the fields years later for just such artifacts. Many times have I visited battlefields but I always tempered my admiration for the heroism with the reality that many of these men did not know Christ nor had any hope in eternity. For instance, as much as I admire General George S. Patton I can’t help but focus in on his mistaken belief in reincarnation and his ultimate standing in front of the judgment seat of the One who is no respecter of persons. On the other hand I know that all of the accomplishments of men such as Generals Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson and Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain , thankfully, in no way effected their ultimate salvation for it was in their faith in Jesus Christ...alone... that their redemption was secured. I have written blogs on George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, greatly admiring both but hoping in the salvation of only the former. Even today I'm conflicted while listening to Rush Limbaugh; I like him, I respect him and we need him but I can't ignore that there is no evidence that he is remotely  aware of the gospel other than the patently false and destructive facsimile accepted as the gospel in America today. So, if this small cross was indeed dropped or ripped off on that three-quarter mile stretch of land that bore the tread of Picket’s Division in that famous charge.... who might have worn it? The condition and the health of the Christian church in America was stronger in the South at the time of the Civil War although great revivals had broken out in the armies of both sides. Today, the wearing of a cross means little to nothing, even attendance at church on Sundays can be done by the most rebellious against God but that southern farmer or even landed gentry in the antebellum South would only have donned such a religious item to proclaim their faith in their Saviour! The bearer may have been clutching this small cross as he walked into the hail of bullets and canister fire, maybe even ripping it from its chain in the process. It’s certainly not the small piece of flat metal with no marking whatsoever on it that interests me but the location that it was found, that the wearer was most probably a brother in Christ now free of all conflict and praising his Saviour and also that America today is once again torn apart only much more so than in 1863. The soldier who dropped this cross was a soldier twice over, a pilgrim, doing his best to protect that which he loves but clinging to that which is infinitely more important, to a freedom immensely more valuable and to a King whose victory is already accomplished and eternal and who will someday have every knee bow before Him and separate those who He knows from those who will be surprised that He doesn’t know them!