Made me laugh. Good ol' Gary Larson.
Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 8, 2022
Sunday, October 17, 2021
The missing hymns
For years, the Lewis family attended a church near our old home. We loved the pastor, the congregants, the music, the worship. The church later had something of a shakeup after the pastor retired, and we found a new church in which to worship.
For years after leaving that church, two hymns stayed with me, but – frustratingly – I could not remember what they were called or even much of the tunes. They teased the edge of my mind and wouldn't leave me alone. I haven't heard them played or sung in any of the churches we've attended since.
This weekend I got serious about tracking down these missing hymns. "The first one had a boat," I said to Don. "I remember it was in 6/8 time. It was originally written in Spanish and we sang a translation." Beyond that, I couldn't remember anything else.
So, feeling I had nothing to lose, I typed "hymn 6/8 time boat" into a search engine and started scanning the results. After five minutes..."Got it!"
The song (in English) is titled "Lord, You Have Come to the Seashore." I sampled two dozen YouTube versions and found the one I liked best, sung by two talented young women with a simple accompaniment. This is a hymn, I feel, not as suited for mighty choirs or professional vocalists. Instead, it's a humble hymn for humble worship.
Here are the lyrics:
Lord, you have come to the seashore,
neither searching for the rich nor the wise,
desiring only that I should follow.
O, Lord, with your eyes set upon me,
gently smiling, you have spoken my name;
all I longed for I have found by the water,
at your side, I will seek other shores.
Lord, see my goods, my possessions;
in my boat you find no power, no wealth.
Will you accept, then, my nets and labour?
O, Lord, with your eyes set upon me,
gently smiling, you have spoken my name;
all I longed for I have found by the water,
at your side, I will seek other shores.
Lord, take my hands and direct them.
Help me spend myself in seeking the lost,
returning love for the love you gave me.
O, Lord, with your eyes set upon me,
gently smiling, you have spoken my name;
all I longed for I have found by the water,
at your side, I will seek other shores.
Lord, as I drift on the waters,
be the resting place of my restless heart,
my life’s companion, my friend and refuge.
O, Lord, with your eyes set upon me,
gently smiling, you have spoken my name;
all I longed for I have found by the water,
at your side, I will seek other shores.
After some searching, I found the other hymn I liked. This one is called "I Was There to Hear your Borning Cry" and it covers life stages.
Here are the lyrics:
I was there to hear your borning cry,
I'll be there when you are old.
I rejoiced the day you were baptized,
to see your life unfold.
I was there when you were but a child,
with a faith to suit you well;
I'll be there in case you wander off
to find where demons dwell.
When you heard the wonder of the Word
I was there to cheer you on;
You were raised to praise the living God,
to whom you now belong.
If you find someone to share your time
and you join your hearts as one,
I'll be there to make your verses rhyme
from dusk 'till rising sun.
In the middle ages of your life,
not too old, no longer young,
I'll be there to guide you through the night,
complete what I've begun.
When the evening gently closes in,
and you shut your weary eyes,
I'll be there as I have always been
with just one more surprise.
I was there to hear your borning cry,
I'll be there when you are old.
I rejoiced the day you were baptized,
to see your life unfold.
Now the missing hymns are missing no longer.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
500 years ago today
It was 500 years ago today that Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door on Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany.
According to this column, "Martin Luther didn’t intend to create a new movement outside of Catholicism, but rather to reform the Church from within. Nevertheless, his revolt certainly morphed into far more than a protest."
I'd say that's the understatement of the millennium.
Some people mistakenly believe Luther was the first to question the church's orthodoxy, but that's not correct. In the 14th century, John Wycliff agitated for translating the Bible into the vernacular and opposed the abuses of the church associated with wealth. Doubtless there were others that had some early influence as well. Luther didn't so much spark a revolution as cement the grumblings that had been going on for several hundred years.
Luther's big advantage is he had the power of Gutenberg's printing press. His 95 theses spread like wildfire.
Certainly the translation of the Bible into the languages everyone could understand had an astounding impact on Western history.
Arguably Luther's actions were ultimately beneficial to the Catholic church as well, which had its own counter-reformation that cleaned up many of the abuses Luther found so objectionable.
While these reforms were doubtless necessary, Luther was no saint, particularly regarding his position on Jews. His horrific anti-Semitism, while echoing the prevalent attitude in Europe at the time, exacerbated conditions and likely impacted relations with European Jews for centuries to come.
But Luther’s bravery in the face of his convictions cannot be minimized nor dismissed. He was willing to face excommunication at best and a tortuous death at worse for his principles. When he faced Emperor Charles V and defiantly stated, “Thus I cannot and will not recant, because acting against one's conscience is neither safe nor sound. God help me. Amen.” – he was well aware of what might happen.
(The famous words "I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God. Amen" - appear to have been added to Luther's speech after the fact.)
Love him or hate him, Luther's actions on this day 500 years ago ignited a firestorm with reverberations still felt today. He was a game-changer in the religious development of the Western world. I wonder if he had any idea what he was starting?
According to this column, "Martin Luther didn’t intend to create a new movement outside of Catholicism, but rather to reform the Church from within. Nevertheless, his revolt certainly morphed into far more than a protest."
I'd say that's the understatement of the millennium.
Some people mistakenly believe Luther was the first to question the church's orthodoxy, but that's not correct. In the 14th century, John Wycliff agitated for translating the Bible into the vernacular and opposed the abuses of the church associated with wealth. Doubtless there were others that had some early influence as well. Luther didn't so much spark a revolution as cement the grumblings that had been going on for several hundred years.
Luther's big advantage is he had the power of Gutenberg's printing press. His 95 theses spread like wildfire.
Certainly the translation of the Bible into the languages everyone could understand had an astounding impact on Western history.
Arguably Luther's actions were ultimately beneficial to the Catholic church as well, which had its own counter-reformation that cleaned up many of the abuses Luther found so objectionable.
While these reforms were doubtless necessary, Luther was no saint, particularly regarding his position on Jews. His horrific anti-Semitism, while echoing the prevalent attitude in Europe at the time, exacerbated conditions and likely impacted relations with European Jews for centuries to come.
But Luther’s bravery in the face of his convictions cannot be minimized nor dismissed. He was willing to face excommunication at best and a tortuous death at worse for his principles. When he faced Emperor Charles V and defiantly stated, “Thus I cannot and will not recant, because acting against one's conscience is neither safe nor sound. God help me. Amen.” – he was well aware of what might happen.
(The famous words "I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God. Amen" - appear to have been added to Luther's speech after the fact.)
Love him or hate him, Luther's actions on this day 500 years ago ignited a firestorm with reverberations still felt today. He was a game-changer in the religious development of the Western world. I wonder if he had any idea what he was starting?
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Are you "no earthly good"?
I was reading a column on WND this morning entitled "Think a cell phone can save you? Think again" in which the author discusses amateur radio and the need for alternative communications under emergency conditions.
Among the spirited and intelligent comments posted after the article, someone rudely elbowed in and proclaimed, "Think a cell phone will save you? Think again only JESUS can save you from eternal Damnation."
Um, yeah. We all know that. But the author wasn't talking about eternal damnation, he was talking about amateur radios. Get a grip, fella.
See, this underscores one of my pet peeves when it comes to preparedness. There are those who, as the old saying goes, are so heavenly-minded they're no earthly good.
These are the types of people who claim they don’t need to be prepared because “God will provide.” Despite my total belief in God’s mercy and providence, I confess I have no patience with those who refuse to lift a finger toward their own physical safety or survival on the grounds that the Almighty will supply them with whatever they need. I’ve actually heard some people say with a straight face that they have no need to prepare because they’ll be raptured up before things get really hairy.
No offense, folks, but that’s about the stupidest contingency plan I’ve ever heard. In November 2015 when we had a massive region-wide power failure after a huge windstorm, nobody was raptured but a lot of people were very, very cold and miserable. It was a time we were profoundly grateful to be prepared.
Disruptive natural phenomena happen all the time. And it’s for these types of events that everyone must prepare according to their means and abilities.
J.G. Holland said, “God gives every bird its food but does not throw it into the nest.” Right now, God has blessed us with an abundance of goods and services in this country, but He isn’t throwing free groceries into our cart. Nor do any of us expect (I hope) to open our kitchen cupboards in the morning and find them magically filled overnight by Divine providence. It’s up to us obtain those groceries, not God.
Or, as one reader put it, “I have told the ‘God will supply’ people not to show up on my doorstep when things get tough because ‘I’ am not their God.”
It’s essential to place one’s trust in God, but to assume He will behave in accordance with our interpretation of what we want Him to do is foolish beyond belief. If you fold your hands and refuse to help yourself because of your sincere belief that God will give you full pantries when times get tough, then that’s slothful. It smacks of arrogance. You’re expecting Him to do the work he commands you to do.
I truly believe God expects us to prepare to meet the challenges inherent in life: natural disasters, terrorist attacks, economic downturns, and other natural or manmade calamities. In addition to our physical preparedness, we all need spiritual preparedness for comfort, focus, and protection.
But to do one without the other – to prepare our souls but not our earthly lives to meet physical challenges – is shortsighted and incomplete.
The Bible is absolutely chock-full of advice for a preparedness mindset, and it exhorts us not to be foolish, slothful, or ignorant. Everything from the stories of Noah or Joseph in Genesis, throughout Proverbs, up to and including Jesus’s Parable of the Ten Virgins, urges people to be vigilant and to keep their lamps lit.
And yet there is a certain subclass of people who won’t do this because, after all, God will provide. No one argues faith is an integral part of prepping; but to make it your sole and exclusive contingency plan is not only stupid, but highly unbiblical as well.
Just some thoughts on a snowy day as we split firewood for warmth, thank a neighbor for plowing our road and driveway, and wait for spring when we can become active in the garden.
Among the spirited and intelligent comments posted after the article, someone rudely elbowed in and proclaimed, "Think a cell phone will save you? Think again only JESUS can save you from eternal Damnation."
Um, yeah. We all know that. But the author wasn't talking about eternal damnation, he was talking about amateur radios. Get a grip, fella.
See, this underscores one of my pet peeves when it comes to preparedness. There are those who, as the old saying goes, are so heavenly-minded they're no earthly good.
These are the types of people who claim they don’t need to be prepared because “God will provide.” Despite my total belief in God’s mercy and providence, I confess I have no patience with those who refuse to lift a finger toward their own physical safety or survival on the grounds that the Almighty will supply them with whatever they need. I’ve actually heard some people say with a straight face that they have no need to prepare because they’ll be raptured up before things get really hairy.
No offense, folks, but that’s about the stupidest contingency plan I’ve ever heard. In November 2015 when we had a massive region-wide power failure after a huge windstorm, nobody was raptured but a lot of people were very, very cold and miserable. It was a time we were profoundly grateful to be prepared.
Disruptive natural phenomena happen all the time. And it’s for these types of events that everyone must prepare according to their means and abilities.
J.G. Holland said, “God gives every bird its food but does not throw it into the nest.” Right now, God has blessed us with an abundance of goods and services in this country, but He isn’t throwing free groceries into our cart. Nor do any of us expect (I hope) to open our kitchen cupboards in the morning and find them magically filled overnight by Divine providence. It’s up to us obtain those groceries, not God.
Or, as one reader put it, “I have told the ‘God will supply’ people not to show up on my doorstep when things get tough because ‘I’ am not their God.”
It’s essential to place one’s trust in God, but to assume He will behave in accordance with our interpretation of what we want Him to do is foolish beyond belief. If you fold your hands and refuse to help yourself because of your sincere belief that God will give you full pantries when times get tough, then that’s slothful. It smacks of arrogance. You’re expecting Him to do the work he commands you to do.
I truly believe God expects us to prepare to meet the challenges inherent in life: natural disasters, terrorist attacks, economic downturns, and other natural or manmade calamities. In addition to our physical preparedness, we all need spiritual preparedness for comfort, focus, and protection.
But to do one without the other – to prepare our souls but not our earthly lives to meet physical challenges – is shortsighted and incomplete.
The Bible is absolutely chock-full of advice for a preparedness mindset, and it exhorts us not to be foolish, slothful, or ignorant. Everything from the stories of Noah or Joseph in Genesis, throughout Proverbs, up to and including Jesus’s Parable of the Ten Virgins, urges people to be vigilant and to keep their lamps lit.
And yet there is a certain subclass of people who won’t do this because, after all, God will provide. No one argues faith is an integral part of prepping; but to make it your sole and exclusive contingency plan is not only stupid, but highly unbiblical as well.
Just some thoughts on a snowy day as we split firewood for warmth, thank a neighbor for plowing our road and driveway, and wait for spring when we can become active in the garden.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Provoking our children
I've been cogitating lately on Colossians 3:18-21, "Instructions for Christian households." This chapter includes the fiery verses so many people (especially women) find objectionable, namely "Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord."
But putting aside the horrific (to feminists) word submit, it's verse 21 that caught my eye: "Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged." The King James Version has it translated, "Fathers, provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged."
It is, of course, necessary to discipline children. That’s biblically mandated. But what does it mean, to provoke or embitter children?
We all hear about the duties of children toward their parents – it's enshrined in the Ten Commandments, after all – but what duties do parents have toward their children, beyond taking care of their physical needs? Do they have a duty not to "provoke" or "embitter" them? And what does that mean?
Endless people will interpret that verse in endlessly different ways, but I think a lot of it has to do with nagging or forcing kids to do things against their nature. Children must be "forced" to do things they don't want, for many years – they must be "forced" to share household chores, "forced" to do their schoolwork, even "forced" to attend church. But at what point does forcing backfire and rebellion ("bitterness" or "discouragement”) results?
I'm no psychologist, but my guess is it happens when parents totally and completely disregard the wishes, needs, natures, or interests of the children as not important or worthwhile. Kids are not robots who will unquestioningly obey regardless of their opinion. Children have their own personalities, emotions, and opinions. Within the bounds of rationality, these should be respected.
In the patriarchal hegemony of the Bible, children were expected to instantly obey a father's directives without question, regardless of their opinion. Fathers were expected to know best. They were expected to guide their children away from whatever dangers awaited. They were expected to shield their children from the dangers and temptations they knew existed in the world.
But undoubtedly many parents (particularly fathers) took this to such an extreme that the children naturally rebelled. Enforcing rules that are too strict or oppressive will make children hate whatever it is you’re trying to encourage, including matters of faith.
Child rebellion is as old as the Bible (hence the many verses in Proverbs addressing it) but parental despots were also common. As Colossians 3:21 illustrates, such unyielding dictatorship could result in bitter and discouraged offspring.
I've met parents who suppress every original thought their child harbors lest it depart from parental supremacy. Yet our children must learn to think independently, even if they go through stages where they’re wrong, or where we disagree (again, within the bounds of rationality).
And sometimes rebellious kids will grow into adults, still harboring those rebellious thoughts – and won’t learn differently until they’re clunked upside the head with Real Life.
As young children developing their theories of their world through observations, a child may tell his mother that "the sun goes to bed at night." Mother scoffs and tells Junior what a dumb idea it is. Does this reaction encourage Junior, or embitter him?
Growing older, again while trying to make sense of the adult world they are soon to enter, teens may develop opinions contrary to that of their parents in an effort to either claim independence, or to provoke. Many parents quash these contrary views and tell the teen he's wrong to believe thus-and-such and he'd better darn well change his mind OR ELSE. This often causes the teen to cling harder to his idea until it becomes part of him rather than just a passing fancy.
If this keeps up – if children are not allowed or permitted to have their own unique opinions, thoughts, or conclusions – then they may indeed become provoked to the point of embittered. I've seen it. It's sad… particularly because teens change as they mature into adults. Had they not been provoked or embittered, these young adults might eventually have dovetailed their opinions and attitudes with those of their parents – except they were provoked otherwise.
In short, while children have the biblical mandate to obey their parents, I believe parents have a biblical obligation to their children as well, not to provoke or embitter them lest they become discouraged. It's not our job to stifle their creativity, their opinions, their emotions, or their interests. It's our job to guide those qualities into acceptable and respectful channels.
Just my $0.02.
But putting aside the horrific (to feminists) word submit, it's verse 21 that caught my eye: "Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged." The King James Version has it translated, "Fathers, provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged."
It is, of course, necessary to discipline children. That’s biblically mandated. But what does it mean, to provoke or embitter children?
We all hear about the duties of children toward their parents – it's enshrined in the Ten Commandments, after all – but what duties do parents have toward their children, beyond taking care of their physical needs? Do they have a duty not to "provoke" or "embitter" them? And what does that mean?
Endless people will interpret that verse in endlessly different ways, but I think a lot of it has to do with nagging or forcing kids to do things against their nature. Children must be "forced" to do things they don't want, for many years – they must be "forced" to share household chores, "forced" to do their schoolwork, even "forced" to attend church. But at what point does forcing backfire and rebellion ("bitterness" or "discouragement”) results?
I'm no psychologist, but my guess is it happens when parents totally and completely disregard the wishes, needs, natures, or interests of the children as not important or worthwhile. Kids are not robots who will unquestioningly obey regardless of their opinion. Children have their own personalities, emotions, and opinions. Within the bounds of rationality, these should be respected.
In the patriarchal hegemony of the Bible, children were expected to instantly obey a father's directives without question, regardless of their opinion. Fathers were expected to know best. They were expected to guide their children away from whatever dangers awaited. They were expected to shield their children from the dangers and temptations they knew existed in the world.
But undoubtedly many parents (particularly fathers) took this to such an extreme that the children naturally rebelled. Enforcing rules that are too strict or oppressive will make children hate whatever it is you’re trying to encourage, including matters of faith.
Child rebellion is as old as the Bible (hence the many verses in Proverbs addressing it) but parental despots were also common. As Colossians 3:21 illustrates, such unyielding dictatorship could result in bitter and discouraged offspring.
I've met parents who suppress every original thought their child harbors lest it depart from parental supremacy. Yet our children must learn to think independently, even if they go through stages where they’re wrong, or where we disagree (again, within the bounds of rationality).
And sometimes rebellious kids will grow into adults, still harboring those rebellious thoughts – and won’t learn differently until they’re clunked upside the head with Real Life.
As young children developing their theories of their world through observations, a child may tell his mother that "the sun goes to bed at night." Mother scoffs and tells Junior what a dumb idea it is. Does this reaction encourage Junior, or embitter him?
Growing older, again while trying to make sense of the adult world they are soon to enter, teens may develop opinions contrary to that of their parents in an effort to either claim independence, or to provoke. Many parents quash these contrary views and tell the teen he's wrong to believe thus-and-such and he'd better darn well change his mind OR ELSE. This often causes the teen to cling harder to his idea until it becomes part of him rather than just a passing fancy.
If this keeps up – if children are not allowed or permitted to have their own unique opinions, thoughts, or conclusions – then they may indeed become provoked to the point of embittered. I've seen it. It's sad… particularly because teens change as they mature into adults. Had they not been provoked or embittered, these young adults might eventually have dovetailed their opinions and attitudes with those of their parents – except they were provoked otherwise.
In short, while children have the biblical mandate to obey their parents, I believe parents have a biblical obligation to their children as well, not to provoke or embitter them lest they become discouraged. It's not our job to stifle their creativity, their opinions, their emotions, or their interests. It's our job to guide those qualities into acceptable and respectful channels.
Just my $0.02.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Dead weight or worth its weight in gold?
I have an older blog post on the subject of Bug-Out Bags. In this post, we list and show the various items we felt would be useful in a three-day crisis situation. The list includes such lightweight (and I stress lightweight) but useful items as bandanas, paracord, and mosquito netting.
Once in awhile it appears this post gets mentioned on somebody else's website or blog, because all of a sudden I get a flurry of comments. This is what has happened in the last couple of days.
Most of the comments are highly useful -- additional information, or product suggestions, or otherwise helpful ideas. But once in awhile a startling comment comes through, such as this one:
Hey, The New Testament I would never bring. That won't help you either. It's extra dead weight. You should be able to comfort yourself from your own spirit, jeez. A book!? Get real.
So I got curious. How much did our pocket New Testaments weigh?
Two ounces.
A two-ounce "dead weight" isn't going to make or break our bug-out bags. As Younger Daughter put it, "I'm not fussed."
Thanks, I'll keep the New Testament. Should we ever need to bug out, it could well be worth its weight in gold.
Once in awhile it appears this post gets mentioned on somebody else's website or blog, because all of a sudden I get a flurry of comments. This is what has happened in the last couple of days.
Most of the comments are highly useful -- additional information, or product suggestions, or otherwise helpful ideas. But once in awhile a startling comment comes through, such as this one:
Hey, The New Testament I would never bring. That won't help you either. It's extra dead weight. You should be able to comfort yourself from your own spirit, jeez. A book!? Get real.
So I got curious. How much did our pocket New Testaments weigh?
Two ounces.
A two-ounce "dead weight" isn't going to make or break our bug-out bags. As Younger Daughter put it, "I'm not fussed."
Thanks, I'll keep the New Testament. Should we ever need to bug out, it could well be worth its weight in gold.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Eyes on the prize
This past Sunday in church, the gospel text was Luke 9:57-62, summarized as “The cost of following Jesus.” In the concluding line of this text, Jesus says, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”
Despite the fact that biblical references to agriculture always interest me, I never gave much thought to this particular verse until the pastor explained it.
This particular pastor was a visiting pastor who originally hailed from the hills of Tennessee. As such, he knew a lot of old-time farmers who grew up plowing with horses or mules. In talking with these veteran farmers, he learned that when plowing with animals, they tend to plow where you look. If your attention is drawn to the left, you unconsciously direct your mules or horses to the left. If your attention is drawn to the right, you plow to the right.
“So how,” asked the pastor of one of these farmers, “do you plow in a straight line?”
“You fix your eyes on a distant spot in front of you and don’t look to the side. As long as you stare straight ahead, you’ll plow a straight line.”
And this, the pastor explained, is what the parable means. If you allow your attention to be diverted from the cross in front of you, you won’t plow your life toward that cross. You’ll be distracted by the diversions of this world. You’ll diverge to the left or to the right, anywhere but straight ahead.
I’ve been thinking about this since Sunday because it makes such good sense. When I allow myself to wander away from the cross, I’ll say [w]itchy things, or make snarks, or gossip, or indulge in vices, otherwise behave in ways that are unbecoming to a Christian woman.
Every sin to which mankind falls prey can be attributed to taking our eyes off the prize. Some people never see the prize and don’t know the wonder that can come from attaining it. Some people think the “prize” is so distant that they don’t have to worry about it now. Or maybe they think the prize is a mirage and isn’t really there. Or maybe they think that hey, a little side trip here and there off the straight furrow is no big deal; they can always straighten up later. Some people can; but others sink into habits or vices that are hard to escape, and others make such big mistakes that it changes their life (for the bad) forever.
It’s so much simpler, in the end, to fix our eyes on the prize and plow a straight line. Don’t take your hand off the plow or we may find ourselves not fit for service in the Kingdom of God.
Just some philosophical musings on a hot and humid summer day.
Despite the fact that biblical references to agriculture always interest me, I never gave much thought to this particular verse until the pastor explained it.
This particular pastor was a visiting pastor who originally hailed from the hills of Tennessee. As such, he knew a lot of old-time farmers who grew up plowing with horses or mules. In talking with these veteran farmers, he learned that when plowing with animals, they tend to plow where you look. If your attention is drawn to the left, you unconsciously direct your mules or horses to the left. If your attention is drawn to the right, you plow to the right.
“So how,” asked the pastor of one of these farmers, “do you plow in a straight line?”
“You fix your eyes on a distant spot in front of you and don’t look to the side. As long as you stare straight ahead, you’ll plow a straight line.”
And this, the pastor explained, is what the parable means. If you allow your attention to be diverted from the cross in front of you, you won’t plow your life toward that cross. You’ll be distracted by the diversions of this world. You’ll diverge to the left or to the right, anywhere but straight ahead.
I’ve been thinking about this since Sunday because it makes such good sense. When I allow myself to wander away from the cross, I’ll say [w]itchy things, or make snarks, or gossip, or indulge in vices, otherwise behave in ways that are unbecoming to a Christian woman.
Every sin to which mankind falls prey can be attributed to taking our eyes off the prize. Some people never see the prize and don’t know the wonder that can come from attaining it. Some people think the “prize” is so distant that they don’t have to worry about it now. Or maybe they think the prize is a mirage and isn’t really there. Or maybe they think that hey, a little side trip here and there off the straight furrow is no big deal; they can always straighten up later. Some people can; but others sink into habits or vices that are hard to escape, and others make such big mistakes that it changes their life (for the bad) forever.
It’s so much simpler, in the end, to fix our eyes on the prize and plow a straight line. Don’t take your hand off the plow or we may find ourselves not fit for service in the Kingdom of God.
Just some philosophical musings on a hot and humid summer day.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Taxes and random pix
I've been brain dead this week, since it's been the final push in getting our taxes done. Our appointment with the bookkeeper was actually last Wednesday, but since it was the same date as a massive article I had due for a magazine, I switched it to today instead.
So last night -- finally -- I got everything done. Phew! I do our taxes by hand (not on the computer) which amuses our tax preparer to no end. At the same time, she admires the fact that I have every possible scrap of paper or receipt or other documentation to back up every nickle we make or spend.
So, since I've been too muddled to post much on the blog, I'll just drop a few random pix from the last couple weeks instead. The weather hasn't been conducive to pretty pictures, so I don't have many.
An oil lamp on the windowsill on a gray day.
On the way to our county seat, we pass this broad marshy area. Depending on the time of year, it might be flooded, or marshy, or bone dry except for the deep-water channels. Right now it's dry, and if you look verrrry closely you'll see a whole bunch of deer grazing. Sometimes there are several hundred deer on this stretch.
They are certainly very well camouflaged!
A weird moment in the sky on a cloudy afternoon. The roundish dot in the dark band looks like it should be the sun, but in fact it's a dull rainbow reflection. The sun was in the bright spot below.
Amusing bumper sticker.
Tracks from our barn cat in fresh early-morning snow.
Waiting for the morning feeding.
Remember when Thor was born? This is what he looks like now. He's very sweet.
Sigh. I must accept reality. That's a long gray hair you see tangled in the hairbrush. I can't complain; at age fifty I'm still mostly brown...
Chicken condo?
The chickens discovered some feed that got spilled in the driveway.
Don's been cleaning his shop of some accumulated sawdust and waste, so he started a burn pile. It was a good day for it, with no wind. In Idaho during the winter, we don't need a burn permit to burn wood waste.
However someone saw the smoke, concluded it was a structure fire, and called the fire department!
The truck didn't even bother coming up our driveway. They could clearly see from the road that it was an attended burn pile, so they just turned around and drove off.
By nightfall, the fire gave a pretty glow. Pity we didn't have any marshmallows.
Younger Daughter's Bible, still open on the couch after her day's schoolwork was done.
The sky sure didn't look like it was going to do much last night as far as a sunset, but it kept getting prettier and prettier.
So last night -- finally -- I got everything done. Phew! I do our taxes by hand (not on the computer) which amuses our tax preparer to no end. At the same time, she admires the fact that I have every possible scrap of paper or receipt or other documentation to back up every nickle we make or spend.
So, since I've been too muddled to post much on the blog, I'll just drop a few random pix from the last couple weeks instead. The weather hasn't been conducive to pretty pictures, so I don't have many.
An oil lamp on the windowsill on a gray day.
On the way to our county seat, we pass this broad marshy area. Depending on the time of year, it might be flooded, or marshy, or bone dry except for the deep-water channels. Right now it's dry, and if you look verrrry closely you'll see a whole bunch of deer grazing. Sometimes there are several hundred deer on this stretch.
They are certainly very well camouflaged!
A weird moment in the sky on a cloudy afternoon. The roundish dot in the dark band looks like it should be the sun, but in fact it's a dull rainbow reflection. The sun was in the bright spot below.
Amusing bumper sticker.
Tracks from our barn cat in fresh early-morning snow.
Waiting for the morning feeding.
Remember when Thor was born? This is what he looks like now. He's very sweet.
Sigh. I must accept reality. That's a long gray hair you see tangled in the hairbrush. I can't complain; at age fifty I'm still mostly brown...
Chicken condo?
The chickens discovered some feed that got spilled in the driveway.
Don's been cleaning his shop of some accumulated sawdust and waste, so he started a burn pile. It was a good day for it, with no wind. In Idaho during the winter, we don't need a burn permit to burn wood waste.
However someone saw the smoke, concluded it was a structure fire, and called the fire department!
The truck didn't even bother coming up our driveway. They could clearly see from the road that it was an attended burn pile, so they just turned around and drove off.
By nightfall, the fire gave a pretty glow. Pity we didn't have any marshmallows.
Younger Daughter's Bible, still open on the couch after her day's schoolwork was done.
The sky sure didn't look like it was going to do much last night as far as a sunset, but it kept getting prettier and prettier.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Where's the piccolo?
Last week, our pastor’s sermon addressed Matthew 25:14-30, the parable of the wealthy landowner who took a trip, and in his absence entrusted his wealth to his servants. The title of our pastor’s sermon, oddly enough, was “Where’s the piccolo?”
The parable is as follows:
For it [the Kingdom of Heaven] will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted to them his property. To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.
He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them, and he made five talents more. So also he who had the two talents made two talents more. But he who had received the one talent went and dug in the ground and hid his master’s money.
Now after a long time the master of those servants came and settled accounts with them. And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, 'Master, you delivered to me five talents; here I have made five talents more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.'
And he also who had the two talents came forward, saying, 'Master, you delivered to me two talents; here I have made two talents more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.'
He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, 'Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed, so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.'
But his master answered him, 'You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I scattered no seed? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'
This parable in Matthew has always rather bugged me because I never quite understood it. Why would the wealthy landowner pick on the poor servant who didn’t invest his money but instead merely buried it? Hey, I understand financial restraint. Frankly that would be my first inclination (bury, not invest). At least the servant didn’t steal the money. He didn’t go drinking or carousing with it. All he did was bury it, keeping it safe and sound for when the master would return. So why was the landowner so ticked off?
Our pastor’s analysis of this parable was so enlightening that I’m copying over portions of his sermon (which I put in italics).
It’s helpful to know that a “talent” was the largest monetary unit of its time. A denarius was a day’s wage for a laborer; and a talent was worth 6000 denarii, or about 16 years’ worth of labor. That was a LOT of money.
Clearly the landowner trusted these servants. He obviously trusted them all to be honest, but he didn’t trust each one to the same degree. Instead, he trusted each one “according to his ability.” The servants had different skills. At the risk of reading too much into the Greek translation of monetary units, the servants each had different talents.
“Let’s face it,” our pastor said. “There are some people who can handle five talents, others only one. There are some people who have great intellectual capabilities and some who do not. There are some who have the ability to articulate their thoughts, some cannot. There are some who have physical prowess and attractive looks, others have neither. The important thing to remember is that each servant was given something. No one was left without. Each had abilities. You may not be a five-talent person, but you have something to offer. We all do.
“And you know something: I believe there are a whole lot more one and two-talent people in this world than there are five-talent people. Oh, there are some people who seem to have it all. I won’t deny that. But most of us are just one or two talent servants.”
Now, understand the servants didn’t know when the landowner would be returning. It’s not like he could keep them abreast of his travels via Twitter. So the servants knew they had to be constantly on their watch for when their boss would get back.
The “good and faithful” servants doubled their master’s money. But the one-talent guy was called “slothful” and “wicked.” Ouch.
As our pastor put it, “Our Lord may be delayed in his return, but, in the meantime, what are you doing with the talent that has been entrusted to you? Let us be clear on one issue: God expects a return. We better not simply bury that which has been given us and return it when he comes. If we don’t sow anything, how can we expect to reap anything?”
In other words, we can’t just let our talents lie fallow. We can’t bury them. We have to DO something with them. Our talents are God- given, and He doesn’t like us to waste His gifts. The faithless – those who refuse to use their gifts – will lose even the gifts they were given because they’re too scared, or weak, or lazy, or other unflattering descriptions to cultivate and use those gifts.
Sounds harsh, but I guess God doesn’t like sloth.
So why didn’t the servant invest his talent? He was scared. He played it safe. “I was afraid,” he said. But that’s not a good enough excuse. As our pastor put it, “If Jesus had played it safe, we would not be sitting here [in church] this morning. God loves you as you are, warts and all. Be yourself, be genuine, be authentic.”
Our pastor related the story of an unattractive housewife who forever sighed over the beauty and singing talent of Hollywood actresses. She fell into a depression because she didn’t have similar gifts of beauty and ability. But then she recalled how she used to be able to make people laugh when she was in high school. At the top of her career in the 1960s, Phyllis Diller made over a million dollars a year. She wasn’t pretty, she couldn’t sing, but she was funny. She had found her gift.
“Well, maybe God is saying something like that to us,” said our pastor. “Maybe when we complain that we wish we had more, if only we were like someone other than ourselves, IF ONLY…He says to us: ‘Use the gifts I have given you. Stop crying about what you don’t have and start concentrating on what you do have.’ For me, however, neither of these reasons gets to the heart of the issue. I think the one-talent man did nothing with his talent because he thought to himself: “Well, my one talent won’t make any difference anyway.”
Then our pastor finished his sermon with these words: “The celebrated 19th century conductor, Sir Michael Costa, was holding a rehearsal. Scores of instruments were playing and a mighty chorus was wailing away. But one of the musicians, thinking his contribution wouldn’t be missed amid all the commotion, stopped playing. Suddenly the great conductor stopped and yelled: “Where’s the piccolo?”
“You see, the sound of that one small instrument was necessary for the proper harmony, and the Master Conductor noticed it immediately. The point: To the Conductor there are no insignificant instruments in an orchestra. Sometimes the smallest and seemingly least important one can make the greatest contribution and, even if it doesn’t seem to make that big a difference to the audience, the conductor knows it right away.
“In the Church, the players and the instruments that make up a congregation are as diverse as the membership – different sizes, shapes, notes, roles to play, talents and willingness to risk oneself. But, like the piccolo player, we often, in our own sovereignty decide that: Our contribution is not significant. I couldn’t possibly make a difference. And so we quit playing. We stop doing that which we have been given to do. We drop out. But what we fail to realize is the Conductor immediately notices. From our perspective, our contribution may be small, but from God’s perspective, it is crucial.”
The other day I was feeling inferior and down-in-the-dumps over my shallow interest in keeping up with NaNoWriMo while others were being saints (and thank you all for your kind words in that regard). But I guess I’m playing my own little tiny piccolo in my own little tiny way. I’m not the celebrated soloist of the performance; but then, that’s not my talent either.
This doesn’t excuse me from helping others with their physical needs, as this saintly woman did.
But it does make me feel better about being a one-talent kind of gal.
The parable is as follows:
For it [the Kingdom of Heaven] will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted to them his property. To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.
He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them, and he made five talents more. So also he who had the two talents made two talents more. But he who had received the one talent went and dug in the ground and hid his master’s money.
Now after a long time the master of those servants came and settled accounts with them. And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, 'Master, you delivered to me five talents; here I have made five talents more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.'
And he also who had the two talents came forward, saying, 'Master, you delivered to me two talents; here I have made two talents more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.'
He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, 'Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed, so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.'
But his master answered him, 'You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I scattered no seed? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'
This parable in Matthew has always rather bugged me because I never quite understood it. Why would the wealthy landowner pick on the poor servant who didn’t invest his money but instead merely buried it? Hey, I understand financial restraint. Frankly that would be my first inclination (bury, not invest). At least the servant didn’t steal the money. He didn’t go drinking or carousing with it. All he did was bury it, keeping it safe and sound for when the master would return. So why was the landowner so ticked off?
Our pastor’s analysis of this parable was so enlightening that I’m copying over portions of his sermon (which I put in italics).
It’s helpful to know that a “talent” was the largest monetary unit of its time. A denarius was a day’s wage for a laborer; and a talent was worth 6000 denarii, or about 16 years’ worth of labor. That was a LOT of money.
Clearly the landowner trusted these servants. He obviously trusted them all to be honest, but he didn’t trust each one to the same degree. Instead, he trusted each one “according to his ability.” The servants had different skills. At the risk of reading too much into the Greek translation of monetary units, the servants each had different talents.
“Let’s face it,” our pastor said. “There are some people who can handle five talents, others only one. There are some people who have great intellectual capabilities and some who do not. There are some who have the ability to articulate their thoughts, some cannot. There are some who have physical prowess and attractive looks, others have neither. The important thing to remember is that each servant was given something. No one was left without. Each had abilities. You may not be a five-talent person, but you have something to offer. We all do.
“And you know something: I believe there are a whole lot more one and two-talent people in this world than there are five-talent people. Oh, there are some people who seem to have it all. I won’t deny that. But most of us are just one or two talent servants.”
Now, understand the servants didn’t know when the landowner would be returning. It’s not like he could keep them abreast of his travels via Twitter. So the servants knew they had to be constantly on their watch for when their boss would get back.
The “good and faithful” servants doubled their master’s money. But the one-talent guy was called “slothful” and “wicked.” Ouch.
As our pastor put it, “Our Lord may be delayed in his return, but, in the meantime, what are you doing with the talent that has been entrusted to you? Let us be clear on one issue: God expects a return. We better not simply bury that which has been given us and return it when he comes. If we don’t sow anything, how can we expect to reap anything?”
In other words, we can’t just let our talents lie fallow. We can’t bury them. We have to DO something with them. Our talents are God- given, and He doesn’t like us to waste His gifts. The faithless – those who refuse to use their gifts – will lose even the gifts they were given because they’re too scared, or weak, or lazy, or other unflattering descriptions to cultivate and use those gifts.
Sounds harsh, but I guess God doesn’t like sloth.
So why didn’t the servant invest his talent? He was scared. He played it safe. “I was afraid,” he said. But that’s not a good enough excuse. As our pastor put it, “If Jesus had played it safe, we would not be sitting here [in church] this morning. God loves you as you are, warts and all. Be yourself, be genuine, be authentic.”
Our pastor related the story of an unattractive housewife who forever sighed over the beauty and singing talent of Hollywood actresses. She fell into a depression because she didn’t have similar gifts of beauty and ability. But then she recalled how she used to be able to make people laugh when she was in high school. At the top of her career in the 1960s, Phyllis Diller made over a million dollars a year. She wasn’t pretty, she couldn’t sing, but she was funny. She had found her gift.
“Well, maybe God is saying something like that to us,” said our pastor. “Maybe when we complain that we wish we had more, if only we were like someone other than ourselves, IF ONLY…He says to us: ‘Use the gifts I have given you. Stop crying about what you don’t have and start concentrating on what you do have.’ For me, however, neither of these reasons gets to the heart of the issue. I think the one-talent man did nothing with his talent because he thought to himself: “Well, my one talent won’t make any difference anyway.”
Then our pastor finished his sermon with these words: “The celebrated 19th century conductor, Sir Michael Costa, was holding a rehearsal. Scores of instruments were playing and a mighty chorus was wailing away. But one of the musicians, thinking his contribution wouldn’t be missed amid all the commotion, stopped playing. Suddenly the great conductor stopped and yelled: “Where’s the piccolo?”
“You see, the sound of that one small instrument was necessary for the proper harmony, and the Master Conductor noticed it immediately. The point: To the Conductor there are no insignificant instruments in an orchestra. Sometimes the smallest and seemingly least important one can make the greatest contribution and, even if it doesn’t seem to make that big a difference to the audience, the conductor knows it right away.
“In the Church, the players and the instruments that make up a congregation are as diverse as the membership – different sizes, shapes, notes, roles to play, talents and willingness to risk oneself. But, like the piccolo player, we often, in our own sovereignty decide that: Our contribution is not significant. I couldn’t possibly make a difference. And so we quit playing. We stop doing that which we have been given to do. We drop out. But what we fail to realize is the Conductor immediately notices. From our perspective, our contribution may be small, but from God’s perspective, it is crucial.”
The other day I was feeling inferior and down-in-the-dumps over my shallow interest in keeping up with NaNoWriMo while others were being saints (and thank you all for your kind words in that regard). But I guess I’m playing my own little tiny piccolo in my own little tiny way. I’m not the celebrated soloist of the performance; but then, that’s not my talent either.
This doesn’t excuse me from helping others with their physical needs, as this saintly woman did.
But it does make me feel better about being a one-talent kind of gal.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Happy Post-Rapture Day
Well as you've no doubt concluded, the world did not end yesterday despite the best predictions by some dingbat named Harold Camping.
This didn't stop a lot of people enjoying a good belly-laugh at the expense of the believers. "Hey, folks, I was raptured!!!" wrote one fellow. "Hope things aren't too bad down there now. Yeah, they've got the web up here, too. Turns out Heaven is whatever you want it to be like. It's awesome!"
Like many others, I was inclined to poke fun at the poor dupes who believed in Mr. Camping's prophecies until I read this article, which discusses the local fellow whose barn sign we passed recently on the way to the Moscow Renaissance Faire.
Obviously predicting the end of the world is nothing new, so much so that the Bible is chock-full of warnings, among them Deuteronomy 18:22, Matthew 24:4-5, Matthew 24:36, Acts 20:28-31, 1 John 4:1, etc.
In reading the article, I was saddened by the degree to which Mr. Ivers was under the spell of the false prophet. He quit his job (in this economy?), sold most of his possessions, and used his savings to travel as far away as Europe, warning others that the end is near. "I’m more confident about the Lord’s return in a few hours than I am about the sun coming up tomorrow," Mr. Ivers is quoted as saying.
Beyond the obvious suggestion that folks like Mr. Ivers follow Jesus rather follow false prophets, I will try to find pity rather than humor in the situation. There are a lot of lives which now need to be rebuilt because of some crackpot who thought he knew more than our Savior.
This didn't stop a lot of people enjoying a good belly-laugh at the expense of the believers. "Hey, folks, I was raptured!!!" wrote one fellow. "Hope things aren't too bad down there now. Yeah, they've got the web up here, too. Turns out Heaven is whatever you want it to be like. It's awesome!"
Like many others, I was inclined to poke fun at the poor dupes who believed in Mr. Camping's prophecies until I read this article, which discusses the local fellow whose barn sign we passed recently on the way to the Moscow Renaissance Faire.
Obviously predicting the end of the world is nothing new, so much so that the Bible is chock-full of warnings, among them Deuteronomy 18:22, Matthew 24:4-5, Matthew 24:36, Acts 20:28-31, 1 John 4:1, etc.
In reading the article, I was saddened by the degree to which Mr. Ivers was under the spell of the false prophet. He quit his job (in this economy?), sold most of his possessions, and used his savings to travel as far away as Europe, warning others that the end is near. "I’m more confident about the Lord’s return in a few hours than I am about the sun coming up tomorrow," Mr. Ivers is quoted as saying.
Beyond the obvious suggestion that folks like Mr. Ivers follow Jesus rather follow false prophets, I will try to find pity rather than humor in the situation. There are a lot of lives which now need to be rebuilt because of some crackpot who thought he knew more than our Savior.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
An Easter story
A friend sent this.
______________________________
There once was a man named George Thomas, pastor in a small New England town. One Easter Sunday morning he came to the Church carrying a rusty, bent old bird cage, and set it by the pulpit. Eyebrows were raised and, as if in response, Pastor Thomas began to speak....
"I was walking through town yesterday when I saw a young boy coming toward me swinging this bird cage. On the bottom of the cage were three little wild birds, shivering with cold and fright. I stopped the lad and asked, "What do you have there, son?"
"Just some old birds," came the reply.
"What are you going to do with them?" I asked.
"Take 'em home and have fun with 'em," he answered. "I'm gonna tease 'em and pull out their feathers to make 'em fight. I'm gonna have a real good time."
“But you'll get tired of those birds sooner or later. What will you do then?"
"Oh, I got some cats," said the little boy. "They like birds. I'll take 'em to them."
The pastor was silent for a moment. "How much do you want for those birds, son?"
“Huh??!!! Why, you don't want them birds, mister. They're just plain old field birds. They don't sing. They ain't even pretty!"
"How much?" the pastor asked again.
The boy sized up the pastor as if he were crazy and said, "$10?"
The pastor reached in his pocket and took out a ten dollar bill. He placed it in the boy's hand. In a flash, the boy was gone.
The pastor picked up the cage and gently carried it to the end of the alley where there was a tree and a grassy spot. Setting the cage down, he opened the door, and by softly tapping the bars persuaded the birds out, setting them free.
Well, that explained the empty bird cage on the pulpit, and then the pastor began to tell this story:
One day Satan and Jesus were having a conversation. Satan had just come from the Garden of Eden, and he was gloating and boasting. "Yes, sir, I just caught a world full of people down there. Set me a trap, used bait I knew they couldn't resist. Got 'em all!"
"What are you going to do with them?" Jesus asked.
Satan replied, "Oh, I'm gonna have fun! I'm gonna teach them how to marry and divorce each other, how to hate and abuse each other, how to drink and smoke and curse. I'm gonna teach them how to invent guns and bombs and kill each other. I'm really gonna have fun!"
"And what will you do when you are done with them?" Jesus asked.
"Oh, I'll kill 'em," Satan declared proudly.
"How much do you want for them?" Jesus asked.
“Oh, you don't want those people. They ain't no good. Why, you'll take them and they'll just hate you. They'll spit on you, curse you and kill you. You don't want those people!!"
“How much? He asked again.
Satan looked at Jesus and sneered, "All your blood, tears and your life."
Jesus said, "DONE!" Then He paid the price.
The pastor picked up the cage and walked from the pulpit.
______________________________
There once was a man named George Thomas, pastor in a small New England town. One Easter Sunday morning he came to the Church carrying a rusty, bent old bird cage, and set it by the pulpit. Eyebrows were raised and, as if in response, Pastor Thomas began to speak....
"I was walking through town yesterday when I saw a young boy coming toward me swinging this bird cage. On the bottom of the cage were three little wild birds, shivering with cold and fright. I stopped the lad and asked, "What do you have there, son?"
"Just some old birds," came the reply.
"What are you going to do with them?" I asked.
"Take 'em home and have fun with 'em," he answered. "I'm gonna tease 'em and pull out their feathers to make 'em fight. I'm gonna have a real good time."
“But you'll get tired of those birds sooner or later. What will you do then?"
"Oh, I got some cats," said the little boy. "They like birds. I'll take 'em to them."
The pastor was silent for a moment. "How much do you want for those birds, son?"
“Huh??!!! Why, you don't want them birds, mister. They're just plain old field birds. They don't sing. They ain't even pretty!"
"How much?" the pastor asked again.
The boy sized up the pastor as if he were crazy and said, "$10?"
The pastor reached in his pocket and took out a ten dollar bill. He placed it in the boy's hand. In a flash, the boy was gone.
The pastor picked up the cage and gently carried it to the end of the alley where there was a tree and a grassy spot. Setting the cage down, he opened the door, and by softly tapping the bars persuaded the birds out, setting them free.
Well, that explained the empty bird cage on the pulpit, and then the pastor began to tell this story:
One day Satan and Jesus were having a conversation. Satan had just come from the Garden of Eden, and he was gloating and boasting. "Yes, sir, I just caught a world full of people down there. Set me a trap, used bait I knew they couldn't resist. Got 'em all!"
"What are you going to do with them?" Jesus asked.
Satan replied, "Oh, I'm gonna have fun! I'm gonna teach them how to marry and divorce each other, how to hate and abuse each other, how to drink and smoke and curse. I'm gonna teach them how to invent guns and bombs and kill each other. I'm really gonna have fun!"
"And what will you do when you are done with them?" Jesus asked.
"Oh, I'll kill 'em," Satan declared proudly.
"How much do you want for them?" Jesus asked.
“Oh, you don't want those people. They ain't no good. Why, you'll take them and they'll just hate you. They'll spit on you, curse you and kill you. You don't want those people!!"
“How much? He asked again.
Satan looked at Jesus and sneered, "All your blood, tears and your life."
Jesus said, "DONE!" Then He paid the price.
The pastor picked up the cage and walked from the pulpit.
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