The Pendulum

"Black Lives Matter" has bought about a backlash. Stories circulate from the Internet-that wellspring of truth-about a veteran beaten up by a gang of black youths who taunted him with, "Do you believe black lives matter?" (Personally, I'd have offered them all a Dr Pepper and invited them to sit down with me and tell me about it.) Who wants a return of the race riots of the 60s or worse yet, the Tulsa Race Riot in the 1920s, the deadliest riot in history?
The pendulum swung far to the left during the era of "Politically Correct" speech and "Inclusive Language." We couldn't say or write "he" or "him" in speaking broadly of people, but had to use a vague "they" and "them." Poetry loses its cadence and beauty when we replace "Who can dwell on your holy hill. . .He whose walk is blameless," with "Those who walk blamelessly" (as in the New Revised Standard Version.)
Now, after some decades of "PC" talk, we have a political candidate who makes fun of disabled people, casts misogynistic slurs and openly expresses disdain for Mexicans. His popularity swells because many are simply fed up with this reverse racism and contrived political correctness. Welcome again to the abuse of civility as the pendulum swings far to the right.
My friend and former co-worker Steve taught this wisdom to the kids he served at a children's home: "You don't have to verbalize every thought that comes into your head." The Psalmist says "Set a guard O Lord over my mouth: keep watch over the door my lips." --Psalm141:3.
The PC movement's point became lost through slavish over-use. The world and society keep bouncing between extremes, never staying for long in the truth.
The truth is love. All lives matter. God said so,  Jesus said that the Father notices every sparrow that falls, and declared that you are of greater worth than many sparrows.
Peter proclaimed from Old Testament scripture: "Those who would desire life and desire to see good days, let them keep their tongues from evil and their lips from speaking deceit."
We Christians need to climb down from the pendulum swing and teach others, especially politicians, how to talk.

Happiness: Not Just For High Achievers

In election years, both sides make promises. They usually have to do with peace, prosperity and happiness. One side promises something for everyone, another promises law and order and justice for the wicked. I guess you’d call that pandering. 

Jesus didn’t pander. He promised blessings and divine approval on the poor and powerless in the Sermon on the Mount. He said the mournful would be comforted—obviously meaning those who mourn the effects of sin and suffering in people’s lives. He blessed the peacemaker, not the protestor or the sword-wielding conqueror on the white horse. (The only blessed sword-wielding conqueror on a white horse will be Jesus, in Revelation 19.)

Jesus pronounces happiness to the disadvantaged, to His disciples unjustly suffering in a brutal, secular world. He blessed the worshiper who approaches God with a sincere, pure heart.

It sounds paradoxical and absurd, but the truth is, one can in this way be happy and truly blessed, even when one is poor and powerless. When life is adverse and your plans don’t work out, you can rejoice, because God’s people who rely on Him have power and peace that the world cannot grasp.

I love those Country song lyrics that proclaim that “Happiness ain’t just for high achievers.” I had a friend who, struggling for breath and wracked with pain, laughed at the absurdity of life and smiled when his family and loved ones came near. Bob Harrison didn’t get what he wanted in life—in the end, Christ gave him much more.

God is great. When Mary contemplated her place in God’s plan of salvation, she exclaimed “He has filled the poor with good things, but has sent the rich empty away.” Luke 1:53. Take heart! The saying is true: happiness isn’t just for high achievers. Put your trust in God.

Judge Not, That You Be Not Judged

My grandmother used to tell stories about me. I’m not the hero of those stories, it was just her elegant way of tattling on me. She once shared how my folks had invested money in a “brand-new” chain-link fence around the yard at our house in Marlow. I know that Dad was trying to fix the place up to please my Mom, but the fence was the first priority. I was then 18 months old. That meant I could walk. Stealthily. And run, where I wasn’t supposed to. And, as an added benefit, it meant that chain-link fences were mere obstacles to overcome, which I easily did one day. Still carrying my bottle, I quickly made my way down to Hwy 81. 

Dad would share his take on the story that he heard car brakes screaming, and horns honking. He looked around to see where I was, and when he couldn’t find me in the yard, he saw me in the highway, with bottle still in hand. A friend of Dad’s had stopped his car, and opened the doors to create a visible barrier for the truck making its way up the highway. Dad sailed over the fence and scooped me up. I listened patiently to the family relate that story from all sides, for probably thirty years. Yes, I was a handful.

Just like the little tyke who scaled the barriers at the gorilla enclosure in Cincinnati. Whatever the male Silverback gorilla had in mind when he seized the boy, it sealed his fate. The zookeepers and police made the right call: shoot the gorilla. Nobody liked it. Silverback gorillas are rare in nature. Thousands of “better-informed” individuals have second-guessed the police and zoo officials since then. Shame on them. 

Then, the “well-informed” public turns its vitriol on the hapless parents of a little boy. “Can’t you keep better watch on your kids?” they yell, followed by calls for “The parents ought to be arrested!” Let he/she who is without sin cast the first stone. Saphronia and I had a rambunctious three-and-a-half year old boy to slip in behind us at the lake one day. He fell off his air mattress and nearly drowned, but was rescued by his favorite aunt Debbie. She’s his favorite because she is quick, as well as a fun aunt. We got yelled at, too.

All I can say is that life isn’t fair, and accidents happen. Sometimes you are spared the consequences. Angels, like family friends or fast-moving aunts happen along at the right time. Sometimes, a valuable animal dies. It’s an accident. A tragedy. Sadly, they happen. I’m just glad the little boy is OK.

By the book, mister!

I ran into a legalist the other day. The experience made me angry. I was trying to get rid of a pile of limbs that had been building in my backyard for years. We were hoping to make a bonfire out of them, but we could never catch the wind and rain just right. I pulled up to the scales at the dump, presented a city utility bill, and received the legalistic reply. “We can’t take this. It’s for a church, and we consider that a business. You’ll have to pay the $40 dump fee.” My protests were to no avail. I paid the fee and angrily threw the limbs as directed, at a space in the landfill. I roiled in anger, but there was nothing I could do. You can’t fight city hall.

The Catholic Church has its legalists, too. A grieving couple could not hold a funeral in church for their infant child, who had died before a priest could come and administer last rites. The parish priest said something could be worked out, but it would cost the family $3,000. This story was reported by Pope Francis himself, who shook his head (We of course would remind the Pope that Jesus pronounced all children safe in Matthew 19:14 “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and hinder them not, for of such is the kingdom of God.”).

Legalists are annoying, wherever you encounter them. Jesus upbraided the scribes who challenged his hungry disciples for doing what they had a perfect right to do—pick heads of grain by the roadside and eat them. “If you had known what this means,” He reminded His legalist accusers, “I will have mercy and not sacrifice, you would not have condemned the guiltless.”

Legalists insist that every “i” be dotted and every “t” be crossed before they will act in righteousness and compassion. This angers Jesus, who spoke thus to legalists: “You have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.” —Matthew 23:23.

Look at the legalistic Pharisee, and don’t be that guy. Sometimes common sense says do the right thing. Work out the details later.

Leave it with us

“Leave it with us.”

               The English police have a saying, whenever they receive a call for help. The dispatcher will describe what the British call, in their terminology “a sticky situation.” One of these sticky situations might involve the taking of hostages or a violent domestic dispute. The English are fond of understatement—“keep a stiff upper lip,” that sort of thing. They prize impassioned stoicism as “a good show.”

               Hence the quaintly reassuring reply by the police on the beat to the dispatcher’s understated call for assistance: “Leave it with us,” they will say. “We are thoroughly trained and are sufficiently equipped to bring the situation well in hand. Leave it with us.” However, it can be argued that policemen tend to be cocky in nature. They are “large and in charge” when they arrive on the scene and can’t be argued or reasoned with---it’s what they are trained to be, to take charge of a situation and restore order and calm.

               As Christians, we are often confronted by trials and hardships that overwhelm us. Paul expresses the same confidence in addressing the difficulty of Christian living. “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.” –Philippians 4:13. Sometimes, however, the trial is beyond our strength. Our self-confidence lags. We cry “don’t leave me alone with this.” But though our favorite Briticism might fail us in the clutch, our faith steps up. Martha in a last gasp of hope appeals to Jesus “And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.”—John 11:22. Jesus’ reply could be paraphrased, “Leave it with me.” Peter says “Cast all your anxiety upon him, for he cares for you.”—I Peter 5:7. When life overwhelms, remember to leave it with God.

Did you eat your black-eyed peas?

Have you eaten your black-eyed peas yet? Did you get plenty of them? I didn’t get quite as big of a portion as I intended, but we found some. The weather had us up in Enid an extra day, so we enjoyed lunch at Golden Corral. Yeah, we’re getting old. Enjoying that senior discount. Soon, we’ll be searching for the “Early Bird Special.” 

You’re supposed to eat black-eyed peas to ensure a prosperous New Year. Just about everybody is looking for that, and hoping for a better 2015. Say, have you heard about Grumpy Cat? His picture is everywhere! Tabitha Bundeson, a waitress in Arizona, owns the cat, whose feline dwarfism and overbite results in a permanent grumpy appearance. The cat’s pictures and captions have gone viral. Grumpy Cat merchandise is popular, and a corporation founded to handle it is now worth a million dollars. Ms Bundeson has taken a leave of absence from her job at Red Lobster in order to manage the corporation. Her earnings were in the “low six figures” as of mid 2013. I wonder if they served lots of black-eyed peas at Red Lobster?

Wealth is a gift from God, but it comes with a caveat: Do not wear yourself out to get rich; have the wisdom to show restraint. Cast but a glance at riches, and they are gone, for they will surely sprout wings and fly off to the sky like an eagle. —Proverbs 23:4, 5.

Unearned wealth can disappear quickly. A British study of modest lottery winners revealed that 44% of them are broke again within a few years of their windfalls. Other studies done in the States says happiness doesn’t necessarily follow wealth. Often major accident victims are just as happy as lottery winners after a few years. Note that Ms Bundeson still has her old job on hiatus. Smart girl!

After the Christmas wrapping paper has been discarded

I wonder if it felt like this after the feeding of the multitudes. The building has been cleaned and swept, boxes of gifts loaded into the cars, wrapping paper is stuffed into the cans, and the leftover turkey and brownies have all been divvied up. 

There are stories for next year. Saphronia’s nephew went into the ditch on the way up from Texas. It is true, Texans can’t really drive on ice or snow. He got muddy from head to toe trying to free his car. They made it in late, and he got to play “Dirty Santa.” (We advised our kids to stay home, as did Dad.)

Now, it’s time to get back to normal. (Aw, do we have to? People were so nice, so generous, forgiving, forbearing and loving!) No, I’m not ready for the time-stressed, mean and impatient spirit that usually prevails. May take us a few weeks to bring down our Christmas decorations because of that.

I believe heaven will be a little like this. Even better, because you won’t be broke and in debt from Black Friday! All over the New Testament the marching orders for disciples are laid out: “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. . . Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.” Read the rest of Romans 12 to get a general idea of how discipleship should look.

Hope you all have a happy and prosperous new year. May you find grace and courage to deal with adversity, and celebrate God’s blessings every day.

The Power of a Child

                A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. —John 16:21.

                Hilda Braslow struck an imposing figure. She carried herself with a military bearing that came from years of service in Her Majesty’s Army. Retired with the rank of major, she brooked no disrespect from tenants at the apartment complex she managed. In a loud voice, she instructed prospects of the rules and policies concerning tenancy in the Cherry Road apartments in Memphis. You dared not think of being late with the rent or of being disrespectful in her presence.

                When she entered an apartment where there was a newborn child, however, a remarkable transformation came over her. The loud, brash landlady became the soften-spoken grandmother. Tenderly, she spoke to the sleeping infant. Tentatively, she caressed his cheek and brushed his fine hair.

                What is it about a baby that affects people so? We’ve seen infants compel dignified men to utter gibberish and make silly faces. They’ve been known to melt the heart of the roughest line foreman, and turn roughnecks into Jell-O.

                A newborn once brought shepherds out of the fields, Magi from the East, and angels from heaven to marvel at it. It is significant that Christ came to earth as a baby, frail and totally dependant on others. The Christ child brought joy into Simeon’s heart and fear into Herod’s and a sword into Mary’s. He entered the world the same way he departed it: wrapped in cloths. God wrought His mighty act of salvation not with earthquake and fire, but through the everyday sound of a baby’s cry.

                Few things incite more hope than an infant. Her parents hope for her bright future, that she perhaps will fulfill their unrealized dreams. Her grandparents rejoice that there is another chance for them to pass on the family heritage, another child to fill with love, another life to lead to Jesus.

                Fitting it is that the most appropriate metaphor Christ could find to describe the joy of his resurrection and glory was a mother’s birth-pains followed by rapturous wonder as she gazes at her precious child. Such a thing is truly proof of God’s existence: nothing else could explain such a miracle as a baby’s birth.