My Badge

"At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other." (Mt. 24:10)

"Because of the increase in wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm until the end will be saved." (Mt. 24:12-13)

Reinhard Heydrich. Who? Not a household name. But if you're Jewish, it might be. Reinhard Heydrich was Adolf Hitler's head of the Reich Main Security Office. With the SS (Hitler's security force), Reinhard and Heinrich Himmler were tasked with "taking care of" any enemies inside and outside of Germany's borders. 

Early on, Heydrich had proposed having a visible sign that identified threats to the Fatherland. It would entail an armband or perhaps a badge worn on the clothing. Hitler, at first, rejected the idea believing that it would cause an adverse reaction from other countries he was trying to coerce. But on September 1st, 1940, per the Nuremberg Race Laws of 1935, the Jewish Yellow Badge was implemented. A badge of ostracism. A badge of segregation. A badge of control. A badge of selected extermination. One month later the extermination camps were opened. The yellow sun fighting against the black spider. 

Spanish-American philosopher, George Santayana, wrote (30+ years earlier), "Those who cannot remember the past are destined to repeat it." I guess we have had a lapse of memory. 

In my 58 years of life, I have never felt like I was on the verge of being singled out by my government as an enemy of the state like I do now. You see - I am a non-vaccer. I am not only not vaccinated but I don't plan on being vaccinated. 

It doesn't matter that I have had Covid and am probably more protected than those who have taken the shots. It's not about my health. It's about forced conformity that goes against my convictions. I just read where the present administration is considering sending health department officials door to door to "persuade" me. I will be researched and ready for a convincing rebuttal. 

I don't care one way or the other if you get the shots. If it keeps people who are at high risk from dying - I say, "Amen. Thank you, Lord." If you are not at high risk and just feel more at peace through the vaccine I say, "Amen. Thank you, Lord." I just want the freedom to make that decision without guilt and coercion, especially from my government. It is unconstitutional. Simply said. 

But here is what concerns me more. I know of churches out West who are refusing to admit anyone into their worship who is not vaccinated. You have to show them your "card." Really. I say, "Good." Go find a church where Jesus is actually worshipped and where the Holy Spirit is moving. 

A Washington State Senator showed up for a vaccine mandate discussion wearing a yellow star on his left chest - the same place where the Nazis demanded the Jews wear their symbol. He was, of course, chastised and humiliated. 

How dare we compare the compulsory injection of chemicals into people who don't want it in their bodies to what the Nazi's did! This is about social safety. Sorry. That's how Joseph Goebbels (Hitler's Director of Propaganda) starting speaking about the Jews as well. They are the reason we are suffering. They are the reason we have nothing. They are the reason for our bad economy. They are the reason for the sickness and disease among us. They are the reason for all of the ills of the world. 

Within thirty days people - good neighbors at one time, beloved coworkers and fellow businessmen - were turning people over to the secret police to be arrested and murdered. This is still a very common anti-Semitic accusation and action today in many places around the world. 

I am afraid that a day is coming when neighbors will turn on neighbors, family on family, coworkers on coworkers, church members on church members. The love of most will grow cold. The worship of social issues will surpass the worship of Jesus. 

I am afraid we are already there. 

But perhaps there is still hope. As brothers and sisters, let love win out over the threat of sickness, over the threat of disagreement on government involvement. 

Many pastors and parishioners in Ireland and England did not run away or shy away from those who were dying of cholera and dysentery during the 1832 outbreak. They stayed. They prayed. They loved. They cooked. They buried the dead. They decided that nothing but the love of Jesus for each other will do. Even when they began to succumb themselves - they served. 

I think about that type of attitude at times like these. Something selfless. Something noble. Non-accusative. Navigating the haves and have nots, the sick and the well, the vaccinated and non-vaccinated. Not distracted. Not deterred. Loving as Jesus loves. Standing firm until the end. 

Let this be my badge. 

A Holy Kiss

 "Greet all the brothers with a holy kiss." (1st Thessalonians 5:26)

I often wonder about the origins of things. Take for example, kissing. In my cursory research, I found that some social anthropologists believe that kissing actually began between a mother and infant child. It was not about emotions but survival. The mother would chew up food and then push it to her lips, kiss the baby, and push some of the food into its mouth - much like a mother bird would do to its baby in the nest. 

Another theory was that ancient men and women would kiss and taste each others saliva to see if they would be compatible mates. I have slight autism [my daughters diagnosed me] so this is making me a little sick to my stomach just describing this stuff. 

In today's environment there are too many factors that would skew the data - Scope, Tick Tacs, Gum, coffee, bad dental care, etc... I would like to interject at this point that when two people kiss they pass, on average, 80 million micro levels of bacteria. 

It is also interesting to note that Living Science has demonstrated that men and women do unconsciously pick up on taste and smell of potential mates that, subsequently, have proven to strengthen the immune system of potential and subsequent generations produced by the other activities incited by that kiss. In other words, something about kissing helps keep the human race alive and literally, well. 

The earliest written texts about kissing are found in Sanskrit and in the Indus Valley in India. They are texts about a simple form of intimate passion between family members, friends, and lovers. Another interesting thing to note is that the vast amount of kissing being done is not linked to romance but greetings and friendship. It is presumed to have been taken up by the Greeks and Romans and by the West, in general, as a form of greeting but also in the more intimate contexts. 

Not to be outdone, the Church itself took up the practice. In Latin it is called osculum pacis - "the kiss of peace." The Roman Catholic Church changed the name at some point so that it is called, "the sign of peace." I find it interesting that we have adopted something that was the last act of betrayal by Judas Iscariot at the arrest of Jesus in the Garden. "Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?" (Luke 22:47) "Yes, yes I am." 

My first kiss on the lips was not memorable, well, it was...it was by my Aunt Norma at a wedding reception. She came in from a side attack and I couldn't do anything but tighten up and wait for the post arm sleeve wipe. Yuck! I quickly formulated a plan with frontal attack family members. Act like your coming in for the kill and at that last minute turn your head. I honed this skill while saying goodbye to Deb's grandma. I call it my "evasion kiss." Slightly to the side. No lips. All cheek. Still creepy but less offensive than almost throwing up or running away screaming, "I'd rather die!" 

Unfortunately, my like-minded granddaughter for some reason decided she needed to plant one on me. I laughed in panic as this insistent kindergartner tried to kill me. Head moving side to side like a grandpa bobble head on a bumpy road. Trying to avoid the torture of the moment, Gloria Gaynor's song kept running through my head, "I Will Survive." 

Not too many churches that I am affiliated with do the "kiss" greeting anymore. We shake hands. We hug. We tell each other, "You are loved." It is family after all. 

In all seriousness, I write today to remember a brother in Christ who died of Covid last week. He was a beloved friend and colaborer in worship. He loved children like no other and sought to bring them into the kingdom of God. He was an old rock-n-roller who was radically saved and spent his life trying to serve Jesus. Our loss is God's gain. 

I still miss every Sunday morning that I would see him at the front of the sanctuary. Without fail, His 6' 6'' tall frame always bending down a little and my 5' 11'' frame  always tippy-toeing up to him. A bear hug greeting from my brother, Rob. Our kiss of peace in a manly way. "Yous (not a type-o) are loved." Many a Sunday morning that was so desperately needed. Right back at you my, friend, my brother in Jesus. Finally home. Receiving the best kiss of all - the warm embrace of his Savior. I'll miss that on this side of heaven but look forward to it when I arrive. 

Sigh. 

Now back to those germs and years of therapy because of Norma...

Cherries

 "Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable then they?" (Matthew 6:25-26)

My neighbor, Ron, who knows all things neighborhoody, gave me the low down on my newly acquired house when I moved to Logansport. He told me when trash comes, when recycling comes, where to put my brush, where to buy the best compost bags. He told me about ants and bees and deer and rabbits. He gave me the history of almost every neighbor on the street and contractor who built their homes. Who has basements and who does not. 

He told me that the lady that owed the house prior to us was a lover of plants and trees. She just wasn't particular about where she planted them nor was she good at taking care of them. I'll cut her some slack. She was in her 90's. The place looks beautiful in the Spring. Sort of an eclectic menagerie of color in unexpected places but with re-rod stakes and steel hanging pot supports now firmly grown into the living décor. Irretractable. 

"Who in their right mind would plant cherry trees on both sides to the entrance of a driveway?" Ron said in utter arbor unbelief. "Now if I were you, I would cut some of those low hanging branches extending over the driveway and then lift up that canopy a bit. Remember that they come and pick up the brush every other week or so. And...well...don't worry about the cherries. We usually get a good freeze in the spring that kills the blossoms." 

Ron...you're a liar. The trees were filled with cherries this year. It looks like we go out in the night and butcher small animals in the front of our house. Red squished cherry juice all over the place. 

I was out front on the little porch we have one morning, enjoying the early sunshine and warmth, reading the Scriptures, glancing once in a while up toward the crime scene when I began to see the most beautiful cardinals, blue jays, robins, and other assorted fowl landing in my driveway and enjoying the free fruit. Before you know it one, two, then three, playful rabbits found their way out to the feast and enjoyed. I could have sworn that they were having a pit spitting contest but more of my imagination than truth. 

I smiled. I was still. I remembered. 

I remembered that my life is not to be full of worry or stress. I remembered that God loves the birds and the rabbits. He loves them so much that he had an elderly lady plant dirty, messy, cherry trees at the entrance to a driveway so that in spite of the red-stained concrete, His creation would have something to eat. 

I remembered that He loves and cares for me too. I wondered what mess He has provided for me. 

I smiled. I was still. The rabbit sure did taste good grilled.

The Mountain

 
"Peter said to Jesus, 'Rabbi, it is good for us to be here." Mark 9:5

I have been blog absent for the last couple of weeks because of some vacation time. Read a couple of good books in the quiet moments of the day when I wasn't conscripted to be the extra weight needed to go down the larger water slides with the grandkids. Ten flights of stairs with an innertube. Not sure how long I will be able to do that but thankful for the current ability (especially post-Covid lungs). 

Vacations are like little excursions. You head off to someplace different to "get away" and yet bring most of your stuff with you. Humorous. 

One of the things that cause me a bit of stress but at the same time brings me great joy is putting an address in the GPS (Global Positioning System) and taking off trusting that the thing is correct (which, on occasion, is not). So down a different Tennessee road we go. Nicely paved. Winding. Hmmm...who would have thought that Eastern Tennessee University would be out here. Mountains. Streams. And out in the middle of nowhere...shops. Artisans. Potters. Photo galleries. Jewelers. Woodworkers. Herbalists. Tanners. A pleasant day of adventure. Hoping to find some good fudge or hard dip ice cream. 

I am a homebody by nature. I like "stay vacations." I have to force myself to get out of "Dodge" as they say. But when I do, I am reminded of the beauty of  this country and for the most part, of its people. I can't help to think that each new location, each verbal connection with a stranger, is a foreshadowing of heaven in some way. 

As I read the account of the Transfiguration of Christ in the Gospel of Mark I was captured by the statement that Peter made: "It is good for us to be here." I think the text bears witness that it was a bit of nervous energy on his part. He had to say something. He had to acknowledge the unique adventure in some way. And what an adventure it was. 

Jesus took his elite triplets up the mountain: James, John, and Peter. And the Bible tells us that Jesus was transformed before their eyes. His clothes became whiter than any white known to man. His countenance - radiant. And if that was not enough, two other guests, who apparently did not need introduction, showed up for the party: Moses and Elijah. Divine knowledge of a couple of guys who had been dead for over a thousand years. 

I am getting old. My thoughts and values are changing. I long for the eternal, the whole, the next. Moses. Elijah. Not in a morbid way but rather, to see the divine now. To see it in the hills of Tennessee, but also in the traffic jam around Cincinnati. To see it in the stranger at the leather shop making me a handcrafted belt with a cross button affixed as well as in the laughter and screaming of my grandkids as we fly down an enclosed death tube of fast flowing water hoping not to drown. To see Jesus. 

It is good to be here. 

Forgotten

 "I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, who you remember no more, who are cut off from your care." (Psalm 88:5)

I was out to visit my dad's grave not too long ago. Quite frankly, I couldn't remember where it was. It had been twenty years of not being home. I knew the section but too many new dead people had arrived to take up their stone residence. Found it. Remembered. Not just the location but my dad and my grandparents and my aunts and uncles and neighbors and friends. All gone. All having left this world for destinations only known for certain to themselves and God. Somber. Reflective. Quiet. Peaceful. Hopeful. Rest.

 I've often wondered why they put benches in cemeteries. I am certain that it is for reflection, but I think it reminds the living of how tired they are and tired of this life. To sit is an exercise in envy. Lord Jesus come quickly! 

But then I scan some of the headstones that are sinking into the ground, that have lost the legibility of life, of death, of whose spouse was who, or what child this belonged to in its short earthly existence. This was someone. This was a family remembrance destination at one time much like what I was doing on that day. Keeping alive a person, celebrating a life, if only in my heart and mind. A story or two popped out. "I remember when..." And suddenly the person, the stone became alive. It was still cold but yet warmth came from it. 

Several of those old white stones, worn by weather, forgotten by time, are the resting places of Civil War sons who never walked over their own thresholds again. World War I and II, Korean and Vietnam men and women whose remains have never been found. An empty box lies beneath their marker. Gone but not forgotten. A flag will be placed in their honor this weekend. 

So...while we are out grilling the brats, burning the dogs, flipping the burgers, laughing with friends and family this weekend, can I encourage you to perhaps be quiet for just a moment and go for a walk among the dead? Rest. Say out loud a name, a date. You may not even know the person. But to do so is to remember their life and their sacrificial death. 

Have a memorable Memorial Day. 

Church Refrigerator

 "He feeds on ashes, a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, 'Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?'" (Isaiah 44:20)

Abraham Lincoln was in a debate, and as happens with politicians, the truth was beginning to be a bit murky.

Abraham Lincoln asked the gentlemen, "I wonder if I might ask you a simple question?" 

"Of course," his opponent said. 

"Okay. How many legs does a cow have?" 

"Four," said the man. 

"Now supposing," Lincoln mused, "you call its tail a leg. How many legs does it have now?" 

"Five," he said confidently. 

"And this is where the problem arises," said Lincoln. "Just because you want to call something by another name doesn't make it so. A cow will always have four legs no matter what you call it's tail." 

Bits and Pieces, July, 1991 [Modified]

Since the time of President George Washington the adage, "You are entitled to your opinion, but you are not entitled to your own truth" has been a common political comeback. It works in every other arena of life as well, including religion and religious philosophy.  

The prophet Isaiah was ridiculing those who were worshipping false gods made by their own hands. "It's interesting. You go out into the woods and cut down a tree. You use the wood to build a piece of furniture or a door or some type of tool or eating utensil, and the rest you use for firewood. But you have a little chunk of wood left over and so you carve it into an image, overlay it with gold or silver, decorate it with necklaces and earrings, and bow down to it calling it your 'god.'" You are delusional. 

"Delusion" is a false belief that is resistant to confrontation with certain facts." 

Disillusion vs Delusion - What's the difference? | WikiDiff. Cited 5-17-21

Fr. Alexander Schmemann, deceased professor and prolific author who taught at St. Vladimir's Seminary in New York, said that "an idol is a false absolutism." For example:  Atheism says, "There is NO god." Secular Humanism:  "Man is god. Science is god. What we will be is self-determined. There is NO God. We must save ourselves." 

He goes on to say that people are so deluded in their thinking that they will resort to differing levels of violence to maintain it. Because if they do admit that they are clinging to false "gods" or "false absolutes," they will have to admit that there is a true God. And to that true God they will have to give account.

Why does this concern me so much? It concerns me because I find myself battling other "Christians" over tightly held idols of late - false constructs, false absolutes. I never truly understood why John said in his first epistle, "Keep yourselves from idols." (1 John 5:21) But I do now. 

Perhaps I may be taking this a bit to the extreme, but I feel like certain believers have let go of Jesus' hand and grabbed Dr. Fauci's. And how dare we disagree with the CDC (Center for Disease Confusion). Wear a mask. Social distance. Get vaccinated. Except...that it has been scientifically proven that wearing a mask doesn't work (in fact it propagates respiratory illness), social distance does not work (in fact, suicide and depression rates are through the roof; far more dangerous than the one percent mortality rate if you get the disease), and...the verdict is still out on whether the vaccinations even work (or if they will be doing irreparable damage, especially to the young who don't even need it but are being socially forced into getting it by medical "professionals," educators, and even their own parents). But to say so...outloud...is to challenge the idol of science. You become the "them." 

I am not an anti-masker, anti-distance, anti-vaccinator. I believe that people have to do their own research, come up with their own conclusions, and follow through with what they believe are the right actions. All I ask is that the same grace is afforded to those who do not agree. This is called Christian liberty. I am afraid, however, that this is becoming a deluded distraction away from our primary purpose, which is to share the good news of Jesus with people. 

In the last days, the Bible says "as wickedness increases, the love of most will grow cold (Matthew 24:12). I fear the refrigerator door has been left open in the Church kitchen. Let's agree to close it. 

Lord, grant us grace with each other. 

Wake Up!

 "Woe to him who says to wood, 'Come to life!' Or to lifeless stone, 'Wake up!' Can it give guidance? It is covered with gold and silver; there is no breath in it. But the LORD is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him."  (Hab. 2:19-20)

The above poster shows a woman in stars and stripes and symbolizing a sleeping America. After two years of neutrality, the United States entered World War 1 on April 6th, 1917. "The war to end all wars." James Montgomery Flagg created and published this poster in New York City on April 19th. "Wake Up!" for there is an ominous cloud on the horizon. 

First of all, self-discloser, I'm not having a bad day today. Actually the opposite. I'm not in a "mood." I don't need to vent. I'm not by nature a pessimist but an eternal optimist. But that does not mean that I look at my world through rose colored glasses. I see things for what they are and I see God's hand in the midst of it. If anything, I'm sad and concerned about what type of country my grandchildren will have to navigate as followers of Jesus. I reflect knowing full well that the world is celebrating all that I am expressing in opposition. 

I feel like we should be putting the poster up again. "Wake Up, America!" While you were asleep millions of babies have been murdered out of convenience. While you were sleeping God's plan for marriage and sexuality has been hijacked by the Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay, Transgender, Queer, community. They've even hijacked the symbol of promise - the rainbow - as their own symbol. While you were sleeping God has been forced out of schools and courtrooms and social discourse and replaced with the religion of secular humanism. While you were sleeping "work" became a dirty word and "welfare" and "socialism" have become the mantra of the lazy. While you were asleep "intolerance" became "tolerant," but only if you agreed with the permissive masses. While you were sleeping "science" or should I say, "pseudo-science" has become your god. While you were sleeping personal responsibility was replaced with Critical Race Theory and blame shifting. While you were sleeping America, "white" and especially "white males" and worse, "white males who are evangelical" became homophobic, racist, KKK, terrorists and should be eliminated ["guillotined" says one WOKE spokesperson]. They are clearly the problem - so the historical revisionist keep trying to convince us. While you were sleeping police officers became evil and criminals became celebrated social martyrs. While you were sleeping our national debt became unrepayable and our debt to love one another unimaginable. While you were sleeping evil became good and good became evil. While you were sleeping the wicked prospered and the righteous suffered. 

While you were sleeping, America...the Church of Jesus Christ slept as well. And now she finds herself marginalized and irrelevant to the world where she was supposed to be salt and light. She spent too much time entertaining herself and becoming a religio/social service club rather than a spokesperson for the Good News of Jesus Christ. A Savior has come for pitiful sinners. Wake up, America... To hear the words, "And God gave them over..."  

Is there any hope for America? I don't know. I fear not. I pray, "yes." Is there any hope for the Church? If it weren't for Jesus' words, "...and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it," I would fear not. I pray, "yes." But I leave you with the concluding words of Habakkuk 3:17-18: 

"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, 

Though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, 

Though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, 

Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior."