Compromise Is not a Dirty Word

In February, US Supreme Court Associate Justice Antonin Scalia died. One of the things that came up in all the news stories afterwards was his close friendship with fellow justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. The irony was that you had a close friendship between possibly the most conservative justice and one of the most liberal, and it was a friendship based on mutual respect, not just mutual interests, compatible personalities, or whatever. They fought on opposite sides for their views, but remained friends. Some people found that hard to fathom and though it was mentioned in news reports, the great controversy over his replacement completely overshadowed what may be a very important topic for today.

I'd say that one of the most dangerous tendencies in the current American political and cultural climate is a loss of mutual respect for those that we may disagree with. Watching the process for the party nominations for presidential candidates over the last few months has been eye-opening to say the least. There are many things that have happened that I would never have imagined for our nation. The fact that we have differences and that sometimes those differences may be over very important issues and may produce emotional responses has always been true. But, our nation was founded on what united us more than what divided us. Today, the tendency is to label opponents, not just as 'wrong' but as 'bad,' 'stupid,' 'failures,' etc.

Government is an institution and institutions, even very conservative and traditional ones, are living entities because, no matter how they are structured and organized they are, they are made up of living beings. People are always growing and changing and our culture is always changing. Every generation has been influenced not only by the generation before, but by the historical events that occur around them. As people change, as culture changes, so do the institutions. But, recently we may be undergoing some fundamental changes at a more rapid rate than ever before.

The United States was from the beginning a revolutionary experiment. There had been democracies before. There had been many revolutions before but most just changed from one bad situation to another one, from one despot to a different one. However, this one was set off in a different direction from the beginning.

Christians like to believe that our nation was founded on Christian principles, and that is true to some extent, but there was also a mixture of humanist and Enlightenment principles. The fact is that most of our founding fathers were not Christian as we Evangelicals would define them. The most popular belief at the time was Deism, the belief that there was a god who created the universe, but that this god was not personal and not involved in the universe. It was more like he created a machine and then stood back to watch it work. Many would have been atheists if they could have imagined a way that this universe could have existed without a god.

Certainly that was not true of all. Washington espoused Christianity, though he was not very active in the church. John Adams was a devout Christian and Alexander Hamilton was also a Christian. But, most of the famous names that we know of were not. We have all heard of Jefferson's 'Bible' in which he cut out what he didn't like and just kept some of the moralistic principles.

Our Constitution was written in the midst of this tension between different worldviews and the conflicts of the different personalities of those involved. But, it's important to note that our forefathers very pointedly didn't want "democracy" in the sense that many people think nowadays. The rebellion was against despotism and not for democracy. They most feared a distant power in control where they had no say nor recourse. But, even more, they feared any person or institution having too much power. The initial Articles of Confederation went too far in giving a national government too little power. The Constitution that replaced it is an ingenious document that made us a true nation, but still built in strong provisions that placed great limits on that power.

What we sometimes ignore is the fact that they didn't set up a pure democracy. They didn't set up a system where everyone could vote. In most states, only male property owners could vote. They feared the rule of the masses almost as much as the rule of a king. Jefferson famously wrote, "I have ever observed that a choice by the people themselves is not generally distinguished for its wisdom." As time has passed, we've become more and more "democratic" but that's not the principle that they started from. That's why we have a Senate and a House of Representatives, both with different rules and giving States different representation. That's why the President isn't directly elected, but is chosen by an Electoral College. That's why the judiciary is appointed and not elected, and why they serve for life.

They didn't just fear a government that was too powerful. They also feared letting any one person, or any one group or party have too much power. They purposely didn't set up an efficient government. They were afraid of too much efficiency because it put too much power into the hands of whoever was in charge at the time. I remember my high school Civics teacher talking about checks and balances and that I never fully grasped what she was talking about. They feared a strong man taking over and being able to do too much. They were liberals in their day, who were also conservatives in that they desired to set up a conservative system of government--not conservative in the sense of today's party politics, but conservative in the sense of making it hard to change the system and hard to get some things done. Making it too easy to make major changes brings with it the risk of losing our system of government by all of the people and going back to some form of despotism.

We often miss this point. Our founding fathers didn't believe in true majority rule. The majority never had full power. They wanted to force our leaders to compromise. Now, many politicians are complaining about this (and not just the conservatives), and many people are looking for someone who can "get things done" and who is not a "politician." Compromise has become a dirty word, a sign of weakness and even a lack of moral standards.

The lessons of our Constitution has been overlooked in so many nations that have set up democracies, only to see them degenerate into democratic facades of one-party-states or presidents-for-life. We've seen some examples of that even in the last few years when leaders felt that a majority vote meant that they could ignore the 49%. Democracy is fragile and stands only when there is a mass of trust in both people and the system, a willingness to compromise, and a commitment to the legal process. When any of those start to fall, we risk losing it all.

We've forgotten what really made America great. It's not capitalism. It's not our great research institutions. It's not our great manufacturing ability. It's not our culture of creativity and the lack of class barriers that close off some people because of their background so that anyone can make it. It's not even great leaders, at least not what some people think of as great leaders. In fact, some of these things that we believe are not as true as we might wish (for instance, we aren't as 'class-free' as we like to think). These are important in their own way, but they are results of something else.

I believe that what made America great is that we were given a system of government that forced compromise. No one could get anything done simply because they got elected to a position.  They needed to get others on board, and sometimes that even meant at least some of the 'opposition.'  We weren't a nation of a majority that rules, tolerating the rest who could live among us if they cooperated. It was a nation united, for the benefit of all. We have forgotten the motto--e pluribus unum ("out of many, one")--on our seal, adopted by an act of congress in 1782.    

Compromise is not bad, not weak, and not a lack of commitment or moral standards. It's a respect for the system, and commitment to inclusion, a recognition no one, no group, and no movement is always right. It's a recognition that even those who may be "wrong" in our eyes, are people who deserve respect and deserve space to live their lives according to those beliefs as long as they don't impinge on the rights of others. Certainly there are limits to what we can allow people to do, and laws define those limits, but there are also limits to what the law could limit. But freedom, inclusiveness, and mutual respect are the foundation of the Nation and the Constitution that we love and that so many have given their lives for.

The desire to look for a strong man to get things done, to overthrow the establishment, to look for purity, is a danger to our system. The desire for making our government more efficient (I'm not talking money, but in getting things done and making quick changes) is a fundamental change from the views of the founders. But, more than that, the demonization of opposition and the dividing line between parties, beliefs, those who aren't like us raises the possibility of us losing the freedoms that we all have taken as unassailable.

We need to remember what really made America great, and it's not what is being espoused by so many today. We have been made strong by being inclusive, by adapting to change, by accepting others and their beliefs even when we disagree. That's what has given us the greatness that we hold dear, the leadership that we've had in so many areas around the world. It's made us leaders in the world's economy, in science, in medicine, in business, in research, and in world influence. Certainly there are other great countries with greatness in all of those areas, but America has dominated that last century. Let's keep America great.

We Have No Room For Hate

As I was finishing my last post, I began to hear the news about the Charleston Church shooting. As more news came out, there was a great sense of sadness. It was the modern equivalent to murder at the altar. How could someone kill people in a church?

But, that has happened before. I can think of several reports of people walking into a church and starting shooting. And, though murder is the same whether in a church or a movie theater, there's something symbolic about killing people in church.

To find later that Dylann Roof had sat through an hour of the Bible study before standing up and opening fire. That makes the crime even more personal. He had, to some extent, gotten to know his victims. They were not just nameless faces. And, they got to know him. They welcomed him with trust and hospitality.

But, what was really moving was to hear from the victims' family members and even the ones who survived from the Bible study. One after another, there were expressions of grace and forgiveness. They spoke openly of their hurt and disappointment, "We welcomed you with open arms." But, one after another they repeated words of forgiveness and even spoke of praying for God's mercy. There was no screaming for vengeance or expressions of hatred. There was no finger-pointing for blame from the victims' families. It was so surreal, it was almost shocking.

And, people noticed. Even broadcasters who normally are cynical were speaking about the huge difference in the response of 'people of faith.' We talk about our faith as if it was just a religious choice or our heritage. For these people, that's not what it is at all. It is what they live by. One woman's words keep ringing: "We have no room for hate, so we have to forgive. I pray for God's mercy on you."

We have to forgive. Forgiveness is a choice, but for the believer is also required. Those who realize the depth of God's grace and what he has forgiven of us simply cannot but forgive, even when the offense is so grievous as that of the calculated murder of those whom you love, those who had welcomed their soon to be killer into their group and offered him the hospitality from their heart. .

What happened was a horrible picture of racism, and yet it was also a beautiful demonstration of how racism can be overcome. It won't come through fighting and condemnation, even though evil must be condemned. Ultimately it will come through expressions of love and forgiveness, hospitality and acceptance, such as we've seen here. What happened has brought both horror and hope as I look at what my country has become and what it can still be.

We have some new heroes of faith. May we learn from them and live our lives to glorify our God.

For They Know Not What They Do

I was listening to a news report the other day and they were interviewing a priest who had spent a couple of years as a captive of Islamic rebels. He had been subject to torture and constant demand for him to deny his faith. He clearly talked about his faith in God throughout this and the example of Christ that kept him going. He spoke about the suffering of Christ, and that how he kept thinking of that to help him  deal with his own situation on a daily basis. Then the interviewer asked that inevitable question, "So, have you been able to forgive your captors?"

There was only a slight pause and then an answer that I can't quote, because I didn't realize at the time that it would really affect my thinking and that I would come back to it. I don't' even remember the media outlet, but I kept thinking about it over the next day or two and I believe I can give the gist of what I remember. He basically said that he saw many kinds of people there. A few seemed to be going through the routine without a lot of heart and there were a few acts of kindness. There were some who seemed to enjoy the power that they had over him and took pleasure in that. There were some, however that had no emotional involvement at all, but were driven by their belief that they were just carrying out the will of God.

Whether my memory of that interview is completely accurate or not is not really important, because it only got me started thinking about whether I could handle such a long captivity and the emotional and mental torture. I tried to think about where I was a year ago and then 2 years ago, and then imagine (or try to imagine) what if from that time I had been confined to a cell with no contact with the outside world, no internet, no news, no one who could occasionally give me a word of encouragement or even put a hand on my shoulder? What if the only touch I got was to inflict pain or to make me move? What if I had no good food, but just the minimum of the most basic staple to keep  me alive? Could I even keep my sanity, much less think of forgiveness? Could I keep my faith?

I remember being struck by the fact that, before he answered the question, he talked about people. I think that when I tend to think of something like that, I tend to think in terms of a movement or organization, Al Qaida, Boko Haram, ISIS and if I do think of a 'face' I think of just a nondescript bearded face of maybe someone who I have seen speaking on TV who is one of the leaders. But, leaders are at a distance. They give the orders. It's not personal.

But, the man who plops a scoop of food into a bowl on the floor, who looks at me in contempt because I'm an unbelieving blasphemer, who kicks me if I don't get up fast enough, who beats me and shows no mercy or concern for me as a person--that would be different. I thought of the movie Unbroken and all the characters in that movie who treated their captives more like animals than humans--no, actually they didn't treat animals like that even.

Somehow (and this is a bit of a stretch, but that's where my mind went), I went back to a situation when I was in university. I was transferring out of that university and when I got my grades from the last semester one was an Incomplete. It was a hands on lab class that was meant to give engineers some practical exposure to the tools and methods used to actually make the products that they might design. We learned how (well, maybe the word learned how is a bit of a stretch here) to use metal  lathes to shape metal, drill presses, sheet metal stamping machines, acetylene welders and electric arc welders. It was a lot of fun and was one class that I didn't want to skip. How could I have an Incomplete? I went to the teacher who didn't even remember me and he said I didn't turn in the final project (a bench vise that we made ourselves out of rough steel billets). We had done that over the course of a few weeks, and had left the final projects in the classroom until they were graded (with a sticker pasted to the project) after which we could take them home.

I told him that I had done it. It wasn't a one time thing to turn in. It was a multi-week process and he had been watching us all through it. If I didn't do it, he'd have seen that long before the final grade. I told him I had the vise at home an I'd be glad to bring it to him to see. I remember his eyes as he looked at me and said, "How would I know that was yours. You could just bring me one that your classmate had done. I don't have a grade in my book and that means that you didn't do it." His eyes were unrelenting and cold. I tried to convince him and I argued logically that I had to have been working on it all along. I reminded him that no grade in his book didn't necessarily mean that I didn't do it. It only meant that he hadn't written down a grade and that could just as easily be his mistake.

I didn't really need the credit and it wasn't going to transfer anyway. But, I was devastated that someone could treat me so unfairly and without any consideration that the mistake could be his own. I remembered that man for a long time. And, that's what I thought about as I thought about the interview with the priest. It's bad enough to be treated unfairly by an institution, but when it comes from someone that you actually see and talk to, it's much harder to forget. Forgiveness doesn't come easily.

And, that's what is amazing about Jesus' words on the cross, "Father forgive them for they know not what they do." It wasn't just a plea for forgiveness. He made a point of the fact that they were ignorant of what they were really doing. The professor, I'm sure, had heard a lot of stories and many excuses. He didn't even want to listen to another one. I'm pretty sure that he wasn't just looking for someone to be mean to that day. He believed that he was looking at a student who had not done the work and was looking for a free pass. And, the captors of the priest believed that they were doing the will of God.

The sufferings of Christ. Jesus suffered at the hands of not just Pilate and the Jewish leaders. There were people who grabbed his arm as they shoved him along the streets with his cross. Those who pressed the crown of thorns into his head and those who beat him mercilessly. He looked into their eyes and into the eyes of the crowd around the cross who mocked him. But, they obviously didn't really know that they were crucifying the Messiah, the Son of God, their creator and savior.

There are some people who delight in cruelty, but I don't thin that's true of most people. The people whom I have to forgive are very likely to think that their actions were justified and proper. But. That doesn't make it any easier to forgive them. Paul considered it a blessing to be able to have the privilege of participating, even in a small way, in the sufferings of Christ. Is that what he was talking about? The persecution he faced, he didn't see that as personal. They thought they were doing the right thing. Forgiving them was the natural result of his dedication to Christ. It wasn't directed at him. Whatever suffering he faced was part of the universal battle for the salvation or destruction of people.

So, why is it so hard to forgive? Why can't we look beyond the personal hurts we feel and see things in terms of the eternal battle for the souls of men? If we could, wouldn't or shouldn't it be easier to not only forgive, but ask for God to have mercy on them as well?

Memories--the things that shape us, teach us, and call back to us over time

Memories are one of the great things about being human. It's not the same as just remembering. Memories are not just about facts, about something that we saw or experienced. In fact, memories may very well depart from the actual facts.

Memories are things that we remember that have meaning and the focus is on the meaning that we ascribe, not the event. Some memories are joyful, and some are quite painful, but they are all very important. We can remember without it being a memory, just as we can sometimes have memories that are only loosely based on what really happened.

Memories are distinct from remembering. We don't just remember a place when we see it again or a person when we see them again. We remember what happened there or with that person. We don't just remember what happened, we remember what we felt. We don't just remember what we felt, we assign meaning and significance and that makes it a memory. We relive, we enjoy, we feel again, but more than that, it becomes a part of us. It shapes who we are, and it continues to reshape us as we come back to it.

Today is the 5th anniversary of my father's death and it's appropriate to think back on him and his life. There are many memories that come up in my mind and I will share one here.

I remember one morning when we woke up to a deep snowfall of more than a foot (I think I remember hearing 18 inches). Yes, those things occasionally happen in Alabama. I don't remember how old I was, but I believe it was my early teens or maybe preteens, and I know it was before I got my drivers license. I had heard that it was going to snow and I woke up the next morning to a beautiful landscape that I had never seen before. I wanted to get out in it. But, I remember that my dad was gone. Having grown up in Michigan, a foot of snow was no problem for him and he had driven away very early that morning.

Mom said that he had gone to the church. It was Saturday, and even as a child, I remember thinking that that was strange because it wasn't Sunday. But, I also remember that her face didn't look quite normal. I asked why he had gone to the church, but she wouldn't say. She just said, "He'll be back soon." Even kids know that there are times when you don't want to ask more questions. It was obvious that this was one of those times. My granny Maggie was also doing things around the house with her head down and not speaking. Something made me feel uneasy, but the snow was calling and there was excitement in the air.

My dad soon returned with a big smile and both parents joined us outside in the snow. We had great fun and I didn't think anymore about the morning.  Whatever was bothering them earlier was completely gone and I soon forgot about it. Only later that day did I find out what it was.

But, to understand it, there are a few other things that need explanation. My father was one of a group of families who started a new church when I was quite young. At that time, to have a church, you had to have a building and they bought a piece of land and built a building. They didn't have any denominational funding, but had some help from the mother church. Nonetheless, funds were limited. My dad cut up some paper grocery bags (for those under 30, grocery stores didn't ask paper of plastic, because paper was all they offered) and, using a carpenters straight edge, drew up plans for the building. I don't remember seeing them, but I'm sure they weren't the detailed drawings that most builders work from. But, they couldn't afford an architect and couldn't hire a builder. They did most of the work themselves. After work, the men went directly to the 'church' under construction and started work. The wives brought supper and the kids later. We did our homework sitting on stacks of materials and then helped sweep up the sawdust before leaving to go home for baths and bed. I was around 2nd or 3rd grade then, but I still remember those evenings playing with other kids and helping the grownups when we were all 'working on the church together.'

Yes, that's not what we normally mean by 'working on the church' or 'building the church' today, and I'd agree that the focus shouldn't be on a building and maybe even, in some cases, a building isn't even necessary. But, on the other hand, they weren't just building a building. They were building a community, a fellowship of believers. I don't know if they realized that at the time, but I do know that my dad talked to me about it later when I was doing a report in Bible College. He said that if he had to do it again, he would likely do a lot of things different, but that even if they had the money to do so, he wouldn't hire a builder, that the experience of working together on something that required a significant commitment of time together was a crucial part of the strength of the church in those early years. It gave them a bond of trust and community that they couldn't have bought.

But, that has nothing to do with a snowstorm, so let me get back to that. You see, there were, I think, only 5 or 6 families involved, but they were looking ahead with great dreams. They wanted room for at least 250 -300 people to worship together. That requires a wide span without pillars to hold up the roof. My dad, with my mom's brother Uncle Floyd, had already built our house and then Uncle Floyd's house, but none of that comes close to any kind of span that the church building would need. That was their only real building experience. My dad drew up the plans for the trusses also on those grocery bags and he did so without Google, an engineering degree, or a Trusses for Dummies book.

And, that's what I didn't really understand that day. Snow is heavy and it builds up on a roof. And, the south is not really used to that kind of problem. That night, after our day of playing in the snow, a warm supper, and an hour or so of TV, Mom asked her usual question, "Well, how about a piece of cake or pie before we go to bed." She and Dad and Granny Maggie sat on the couch with their cake and coffee and I sat at the table in the other room with mine (no coffee, though, and kids were not allowed to eat in the den). And that's when I found out. I heard them talking in the other room.

When the church was complete, my dad was talking to an engineer and when he found that my Dad had built a church and had designed the trusses himself without any experience in designing trusses, he was astonished. He scoffed and told my dad that there was no way that he'd have been able to know how to do that right. He predicted that they'd soon see the roof sagging, that it wouldn't stand up to any load, and would collapse in a few years. Over the years, my Dad had been watching for any sagging, standing on a ladder and sighting down the ceiling, and climbing into the attic occasionally to look. I didn't know about that at the time.

But, that evening I heard him telling my Mom that he could finally rest easily. We had had the heaviest snowfall that we could probably ever expect and it was the heavy 'wet' snow. He had driven to the church that morning half expecting to see the roof collapsed, but it was still there. He had sighted along the ceiling and there was no sagging. He had climbed into the attic to check and everything was as firm as ever. He mentioned the engineer and he felt some pride  (well-deserved, I think). I didn't quite understand much then, but I did remember feeling proud that my dad was smarter than that old engineer.

Later I found out the details that I've share with you above. Later, when I was studying basic engineering courses in university, I understood just how big of a feat that actually was. My dad hadn't finished 10th grade. His dad had died when he was 6 and his mom had struggled to raise a family during the Great Depression. My dad dropped out of school to work and then to join the Navy in World War 2.

I'm a great proponent of education, especially in today's increasingly complex world. I'd push anyone to go as far as they can go. But, no one should assume that one has to have a degree to have knowledge. I've seen people who have several degrees and with high grade averages whom I would not trust in their field of study.

And, I'm still proud of my Dad, if you haven't already noticed that by now. That's one of my memories and one that I've often come back to. It shaped my thinking. I don't assume that a formal education is any guarantee of success. I've learned the wisdom of listening to experts, but still evaluating their advice for myself. I've learned that I should not let others look down on me for any lack of formal training in some area and feel inferior. I've learned that I should also not do that to others either, and not assume that, if they don't have a degree or a lot of experience in some area, that their contribution to the discussion should be discounted.

And, I've learned that, even though I have 'learned' these things, I still forget them at times. I can still feel inferior in the company of experts, can still be afraid to contribute to things that are outside my area of expertise, and I can still dismiss others' ideas because, "What do they know?" The memory is to give me a reminder, to shake up my thinking again and again.

And, that's what memories are for. They are reminders that take us back to lessons over and over. I'm thankful for memories. I hope I can keep learning.

Oh, and that building is still there. The last time I was there, I remember looking carefully at the roof ridge line and when I entered, I looked carefully at the ceiling. It's been more than 50 years now, and it's still strong as ever.

Grace, Being, and Grandma Grace

I remember a time when I was young (not to say that I'm not still young ;-) but I mean when I was really, really young, still on the verge of becoming a teenager), when I was looking at some old pictures with my Grandma Grace, my father's mother. I came upon one picture of a beautiful young lady looking so elegant even though wearing clothes which were very much out of style and a bit strange looking for my era. I remember a hat perched more on the side of her head than on the top and which, to my young eyes, reminded me of a high heeled shoe placed upside down. But, she was beautiful. I asked, "Grandma, who is that?" Her answer was, "That's me. I was still a teenager then."

I was quite surprised. It was hard to connect that young girl to my grandmother whom I had only seen as gray-haired, plump, and old. And, that's where I made my mistake, but not the one that you might expect. I answered, "That was you? Wow. You were beautiful." Now, I had always seen my grandmother as beautiful, but not like that teenage girl. I knew people got old and I was both surprised but also not really. I was more impressed than surprised. That girl was my grandmother?! This was really cool!

But, her answer completely caught me off guard. "No, that was not me," and then with a slight pause and a slight change in tone, "that is me. You've never seen me looking like that, but that's how I see myself when I'm not looking in a mirror and sometimes even when I am. I'm older and I don't look like that anymore on the outside, but that's still me. I'm still that same girl." The words rang in my ear and, became one of those few events you remember not just as a vague memory, but with a distinct sharpness. I can close my eyes and still hear her voice and see the subtle expression in her eyes.

I don't remember what I did after that. I don't remember answering her, maybe just looking at her and at the picture and saying again, "You were really pretty." I'm not sure I understood what she meant then, but I do remember that I couldn't get away from it. I kept thinking about it and I still think about it. She had no problem with me using the past tense to say that she 'was' pretty. But, she objected to me using the past tense to speak of identity. "No, that was not me. That is me."

I'm now about the same age as she was when I talked to her on that day. I too know the feeling of looking in the mirror and suddenly realizing that you don't look like you tend to imagine yourself. There are wrinkles that tend to be smoothed over in my own thinking (better than Photoshop). There is some sagging skin and I don't really understand where it came from and when it appeared. Sometimes I even think it is just that I don't look so good today. Maybe I'm too tired, so that's why the skin above my eyelids is drooping and there are some little bags below my eyes that aren't normally there. But, to be honest, I know it is the new normal and that's just how I look now and it will get worse if I live longer.

But, she's also right. That's not really me. Or maybe I should say, that's me but not any more so than those teenage pictures of me that are in boxes somewhere. They all 'are' me. Or maybe not.

I should not define myself by the way I look. Oh, it really feels good when someone says, "You're 60? You don't look like you're 60." It doesn't matter that they're probably just being polite, and Taiwanese are famous for those exaggerated compliment that everyone knows are exaggerated or sometimes just not true. But, when I hear it, I don't even think about the fact that it's probably just a polite compliment other than a fleeting thought. It still feels good.

But, I should not define myself by how I look. In one sense, maybe a better way to think of it is that neither of those pictures is me. They're just a passing view of the same thing that continues on. I am what I am, not just what I look like, like Popeye was found of saying ("I am what I am and that's all that I am."). It is the person who is something, not the external appearance.

We put a lot of stock on appearances. People shown pictures of various mean tend to label those who are taller as smarter, more successful, more capable. Women are judged just as well. Obviously in the real world, being good-looking is no guarantee of success and anyone who wants to be successful still has to work hard to get there, but it's still true that we make judgments based on appearances. I'd like to think that I don't, but I'm pretty sure that I do.  I should focus more on the person I am being rather than how I look. But, I should also be looking for the "person" in the one in front of me instead of what that person looks like.

Something else that strikes me from this is that even what we are is not based on what we can see in a brief acquaintance over a period of time, but on what the person is, what they are becoming, and what they can become. I've benefited from others who saw in me something that even I didn't see at the time and they were willing to spend time with me to help me become more than I was.

And, maybe that's the most important thing that comes from this random train of thoughts. There aren't many people who practice that. We tend to look at a person and judge their abilities and even their character based on what we see now. That's maybe practical, since how can we know what a person could become? And yet, some people seem to do it. They can see things in someone that others don't see. Maybe they're more optimistic. Maybe they're just more willing to take a risk and when someone fails to develop as they hope, they are just unwilling to assume that others will also fail. Maybe they refuse to see failure as final.

But, I also tend to see this as something fundamental to our faith (even if it is little practiced in our lives). We read that while we were yet his enemies, Christ died for us. That's certainly not just looking at the present person. Maybe we could say, "Yes, but he was God. He knew that he could make us into something else," but that still ignores the fact that he didn't die for those who would believe and would  follow him wholeheartedly, dedicating their lives to him. He also died for those who would believe but would struggle in their faith. He also died for those who would reject him outright and even actively fight against him having any role in their lives.

That's a point of theology that we know is true, but don't really take at face value. We tend to think that he died for all, but that it's only 'for all' in a different sense. He died for them theoretically, while still writing them off in his heart. But, that's not the picture we see of Christ who wept over  those who rejected him and would still welcome them and actively pursue them, even leaving the 99 behind to rescue the one who didn't follow him back to the fold.

And, that's the greatest challenge of all to me. We shouldn't write anyone off. Ever. Not until they are dead and even then, recognizing that we don't really know their heart, what happened in their heart, and how God will deal with them, or what mustard seed of faith might have been there that we couldn't see. We read also that even many who seem to be followers of God might not be, and that God will say to some (and maybe we would be shocked to find out who those are) "Depart from me for I never knew you." Might there also be some that we will be surprised to see there? We just don't know.

It reminds me of phrase in a sermon of C.S. Lewis. I quote a portion below:

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which,if you say it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - These are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

We should be looking (in faith) at what those around us (and we ourselves) can be, instead of just what they (we) are. That is our faith. That is grace. And, that is what God has done to us. That is what it means to be Christian.

Ebola and the Church

At least something concerning the Ebola epidemic is pretty close to the top of every news program today. There is reporting on the facts on the ground in Africa, reports on the panic and even hysteria
that seems to be spreading among the general population in the US, There is a lot on how politicians are using that to further their own ambitions.

Ebola has been around for a long time--first noted in 1976--and there have been many outbreaks since then. But, the current epidemic has been going on since March. That's actually been a pretty long time, and it was reported in the news, but didn't get a huge amount of attention. It was over in a faraway place, a sad story, but these things happen. .

As it spread, there was some discussion about how to contain it from spreading and especially with international air travel being so easy. But, it was a theoretical discussion and it didn't occupy our attention other than a little, "What would we do if it did come over here?"

Then we had some Americans who were serving and caring for Ebola victims in Africa and who were eventually airlifted out. That started getting more attention and some even wondered why we would take the risk of bringing the disease here. Then, a man from Liberia was diagnosed with Ebola at a hospital in Dallas, and later two nurses who cared for him. The idea of closing out borders started getting a lot of traction, and some even extended it to Americans. Donald Trump (admittedly not known for tact, compassion, or a moral compass) tweeted in a series of tweets that the do-gooders should be left to do their good deeds, but if they get infected, then they would just need to "suffer the consequences." Ann Coulter, a prominent conservative pundit, wrote an article entitled, "Ebola Doc's Condition Downgraded to 'Idiotic'" criticising the doctor, the church, and missionaries for trying to save the world when America still had plenty of needs.

Criticism started building and certainly some of that was justified. We really weren't prepared. But, the criticism aimed at the nurses sounded a bit hypocritical and unfair. Now, politicians are trying to make points and show that they are strong and decisive leaders by imposing a blanket quarantine (later weakened somewhat, but only in the face of intense criticism). I don't want to argue that there is no need for any kind of quarantine, but the blanket nature and the rhetoric that makes pariah's of those who try to serve others is very discomforting. Governor Christi's visible contempt for the nurse who was the first to experience this is worrying.

"But," you might say, "what do you expect of a politician, a political pundit, or egotistical businessman?" Point taken. And, maybe the same could be said of the public.

But, what about the church? Where is the voice of the church?  Who is talking about this issue? Well, I'm not in the US right now, so maybe there is something coming from pulpits that I don't know about, but what I do listen to in podcasts or on Facebook (basically just family and church friends) is pretty silent, or (maybe worse) just echoing the same voice that we hear in the media.

Epidemics have changed the course of history, empires have fallen, and battles have been lost due to epidemics. Some of the ruined cities that archaeologists explore are thought to have been abandoned because of an epidemic. Historians blame the fall of the Aztecs and Incas on imported diseases. Some say that epidemics were a factor in the fall of the Roman Empire and some of those were brought back by soldiers returning from faraway lands to the east. In the Antonine Plague starting around AD 165, the death toll reached as high as 2,000 deaths per day just in the city of Rome. A later outbreak starting in AD 251 killed 5,000 per day at its height, and again, that's just talking about Rome itself.

Cyprian was the bishop of Carthage (an important Roman city in what is now Egypt) during the second plague. People were deserting the cities and fleeing to the countryside in huge caravans. The breakdown of social order and the chaos is pretty hard to fathom. It is something totally out of our experience and unimaginable (unless your a Hollywood script writer).

Of this plague we actually have some good records and the interesting thing is that there was a lot of comparison between the average citizen and the Christian. Christianity was still not accepted by Roman law and there was still serious persecution of those who proclaimed Christ. But, when the plagues came, the Christians really made their mark and they were noticed. It was noted that the Roman priests fled the city along with everyone else who could, but the Christians stayed behind and didn't just try to survive, they actively took care of the sick, those who were left behind by their families who had escaped. Many of the Christians died with them, and they weren't stupid. They knew the dangers and the high likelihood that they would die, but they served anyway.

Cyprian wrote of this in 251, and  seemed almost welcoming of the pestilence. He noted how horrific the disease was but claimed that only non-Christians had to fear it. He stated that this plague

"...examines the minds of the human race; whether the well care for the sick, whether the relatives dutifully love their kinsmen as they should, whether the masters show compassion for their ailing slaves, whether the physicians do not desert the afflicted…Although this mortality has contributed nothing else, it has especially accomplished this for Christians and servants of God, that we have begun gladly to seek martyrdom while we are learning not to fear death.  These are trying exercises for us, not deaths; they give to the mind the glory of fortitude; by contempt of death they prepare for the crown…[O]ur brethren who have been freed from the world by the summons of the Lord should not be mourned, since we know that they are not lost but sent before; that in departing they lead the way; that as travelers, as voyagers are wont to be, they should be longed for, not lamented…” (Mortality 15-20, 1958 ed.) [The Rise of Christianity, p. 81, par. 1-2]

But, it was just bishops who noticed. It became a topic of conversation as people branded Christians as "gamblers" while wondering how they could do this. And, this made a huge difference even long term. A century later the emperor Julian pushed to start other charities in an effort to match the Christians.  He wrote to the high priest of Galatia in 362 to push them to work to meet the moral standards shown by Christians, and he attributed the growth of the church to their “moral character, even if pretended,” and their benevolence toward strangers and care for the graves of the dead.” Indeed, at the beginning of the second plague, the church was still made up of people who were mostly of Jewish origin (estimated at 70%) and afterward the ratio soon was about half and half. 


Today, the church has lost its voice. It has become a part of the culture. It talks a lot about the degradation of the moral structure of our society and points to a list of sins that prove it and seem surprised when non-Christians don't hold to those same values (as if holding to a set of values were enough). We have retreated from society, circled the wagons around our faith, and fire at all those outside the circle.

We are not of this world, but we are supposed to be in it. We are not allowed to retreat into our own cocoon. And why is that? We have lost our first love, and that love is a love of Christ. No evangelical would want to admit that. We do love Christ! That's why go to church every Sunday. That's why we are willing to speak out on moral issues. That's why we give to the church, do good works, etc. But, the Bible challenges us to show it in actions, and the primary one is that we should be like Christ. I think that doesn't mean just that we use that to judge what we don't do. Jesus wouldn't steal, so I won't steal. But, what was the main characteristic of Jesus life--the thing that is repeated over and over. None of the gospels emphasizes how well Jesus followed the Law or any other ideas of morality. Certainly I am not to say that he was not moral (he was perfect), but that's not their emphasis. The emphasis is on his love--love for the disciples, love for people around him, and more than that, love for the world (a term John clearly uses to talk about the whole world system and sinful mankind). He loved and the result of that is grace towards the worst sinners and sacrifice for that world that was so against him and the kingdom of God.

We scream out against the world, when we should not be surprised that the world doesn't have our values. But, we don't show love.

Listen carefully the next time you hear about Ebola. You'll hear a lot about what we should do to protect our country, and  that certainly is important. The duty of the government is to protect its citizens. You'll hear discussions about medical issues by people who barely know the difference between aspirin and Tylenol.

But, how often do you hear people expressing, not just some horror that results in pity, but a real love and concern for the families destroyed, the devastation of communities, the orphans left  behind? Surely you will hear some, but then it moves on to the next topic. Where is the love for others? Love results in actions, produces a gracious heart, and leads to sacrifice. Who is willing to sacrifice, even a little time in prayer, a little money toward relief, a voice of reason to push for more done in Africa, much less one's time or one's life?

The early church was a persecuted minority, but they loved their neighbors. They applied Christian doctrine to their lives. They really believed that life was not about expanding their wealth and living more comfortably and it wasn't even just trying to survive. In fact, the survival they thought of was only in the eternal sense. They didn't fear death. They feared embarrassing their Lord.

I read an article a few weeks ago, in Slate by Brian Palmer. The author was at an Ebola consultation and heard it said, “MSF is the only group on the ground,” said one doctor, using the French acronym for Doctors Without Borders. “They are the only ones making any difference.” The congregation nodded in agreement. But, he notes that this is ignoring another group who were also at work, the missionaries. No one was even thinking of them, in spite of the headlines about the missionaries who had contracted Ebola while helping in Africa. He writes, "Missionary doctors and nurses are stationed throughout Africa, in rural outposts and urban slums. Rather than parachuting in during crises, like some international medicine specialists, a large number of them have undertaken long-term commitments to address the health problems of poor Africans." He goes on to talk about his discomfort with the missionary doctors, because of their connecting medical work with their faith, but also admits that this discomfort is due to his own bias. He admits that possibly his atheism has made him biased. "I'm not altogether proud of this bias--I'm just trying to be honest." 

The problem is, though he may have noticed, most of the world hasn't. Some of that is certainly due to the same bias that he admits, but could it also be that we really haven't responded with the massive support that we should have. Or, maybe it is because, even though there are missionary doctors and nurses willing to sacrifice, the church as a whole is not really speaking up. I'm actually not sure, but I do think that if we really had the mind of Christ, the world would not be able to ignore it. Emperor Julian couldn't help but notice, but we can easily be under the radar. 

Where is our influence? Where is our voice? Why isn't there a massive response to show love to our brothers?

Palmer goes on to state that the world should recognize and welcome the missionary doctors because there isn't anyone else who is really willing to stay for the long haul. He even suggests that we shower them with funds to help them out. Finally, he writes, with some irony, "As an atheist, I try to make choices based on evidence and reason. So until we're finally ready to invest heavily in secular medicine in Africa, I suggest we stand aside and leg God do His work."

It almost makes me want to say, "Amen." But, what I want to see is not that we stand aside and let God work. We need to step up and take up and engage in God's work actively and without fear. I'd like to make Mr. Palmer even more uncomfortable.

Tricky Dick, Grace, and Forgiveness

It has been a very long time since I published anything to this blog. There was a period of time where my life was in such a turmoil I didn't feel like writing anything. Some or the turmoil still remains and maybe I'll share more of that later, but right now I just felt there were still some things I would like to share.

One of those things, and one that actually pushed me to start writing again, happened a this summer and I noted it down and continue to think about it. You may remember a lot of news reports 'celebrating' the 40th anniversary of the resignation of President Richard Nixon.

I don't want to spend a lot of time talking about Nixon, but I also realize that there are a lot of people young enough to only know about this from history class (and how much do most of remember from our history classes). So, some background:

President Nixon was one of the most hated men alive for my generation. Kennedy got us into Vietnam, Johnson expanded that war--correction, 'police action'--but Nixon really expanded it and was the focus of many student anti-war protests. I remember the turmoil the nation was in--maybe in some ways similar to today, but in some ways worse. Certainly, not everyone hated Nixon--he did get elected twice--but he was a very polarizing president and those who were against him were very strongly against him.

Then came Watergate, and that's were everything really fell apart. Nixon tried to deny any involvement but gradually the whole thing fell in upon him. As more evidence came in, we all began to see just how extensive the lies had been, and even then Nixon continued to vehemently deny all that he had done. He destroyed the trust of a generation and maybe some of that effect is still being seen today in the lack of trust in any politicians or in government as a whole. But, that's another topic for another day. For Nixon, it continued to unravel his presidency. Impeachment proceedings were begun and only when his most fervent backers met with him to tell him that there was no possibility that the impeachment would fail to pass, did Nixon resign.

Just before he announced that to the press and the world, he spoke to the White House staff (the servants) and then to his administrative staff and the speech was not prepared or written out. It was impromptu, and even a little rambling. But, what struck me was the line that was quoted by all the various news reports on the 40th anniversary, because it was one of those things that was worth sharing.

Nixon knew that he would be vilified in history. He also knew that, as much as he would like to blame (and had blamed) others, it was his fault. He was finally ready to admit it, though not publicly yet. He praised his staff and didn't even hint that they were to blame for anything that happened. Then he said,

Always give your best, never get discouraged, never be petty; always remember, others may hate you, but those who hate you don't win unless you hate them, and then you destroy yourself.

I am not interested in rehabilitating Nixon, but there is a lot of wisdom in that statement, but also a lot of grace. Those who hate you only win if you hate them back. Nixon showed himself to be a paranoid leader, but he learned something pretty valuable through it. We tend to hate people who hate us, but hatred only produces more bitterness and unhappiness in our own selves. If we hate those who hate us, we destroy ourselves.

Reminds me of Joseph, who was incredulous when his brothers late in life still feared that he would get even with them when their father died. They simply could not imagine any other outcome, because that is what they had done to Joseph decades earlier when they plotted to kill him and only reneged on that when the opportunity arose to sell him into slavery and make some money off it (Wonder what they did with that money). They sold him to traders on their way to Egypt where in all likelihood he'd be put to work in some grand building project and die in hard labor. Now, Joseph had the opportunity to get even and their father's death made that easier.

But, Joseph's answer was (paraphrased), "How could I do that? Am I in the position of God? I have no authority to punish you (though legally, he did with his high position in Egypt)." He didn't exonerate them (telling them bluntly that what they did had been evil), but he did forgive them. And, his forgiveness was not just tolerance (which is what much of what we call forgiveness actually is) but real forgiveness. It was over for him. That's grace. And, he not only didn't punish them, he had rewarded them and taken care of them and their families for years.

Nixon's statement showed great wisdom, but it was also practical. It doesn't help to hate. It only satisfies the hatred of your enemies and makes them feel even more right to have hated you. And, the bitterness destroys you.

But, Joseph doesn't go the practical route in his reply. How did he forgive them to such a deep and fundamental level. I think it is because he also recognized the hand of God in what the brothers had done. God didn't force them to do it, they plotted the evil solely of their own volition, and Joseph stated that very clearly as well. However, God, in a sense, twisted their plan into something good that resulted in the Joseph's rise to such a lofty position, but also saved the lives of many people from a 7 year famine. That's what Joseph said.

Ironically, the primary beneficiaries of that salvation were the very evil brothers who sold Joseph as a slave. And, that didn't bother Joseph one bit. For some people, even that would have created bitterness, but Joseph had a completely different world view than most people. God is sovereign, but that doesn't make God responsible for evil. Men make their own decisions and do what they want.

But, Joseph saw God as one whose sovereignty is so complete that it works in a way that is incomprehensible to us. We get things done by controlling others to the extent that we can and manipulating them as much as we can beyond that. We control by systems and rules. But, God can have sovereign control without controlling men's decisions and actions. And, if that is true, it should relieve us of a great burden. We may fear disasters and epidemics, but in everyday life what we really fear is that other people will harm us--whether it's a thug with a gun, a coworker who is manipulating the boss behind our backs, or a friend who could (and sometimes does) betray us.

But, if God can turn evil plans into good, then we don't have to worry that someone might do something to harm us, and when they do, we don't have to worry that this will be the end and have lasting results.

Nixon doesn't mention forgiveness, but for us that's the further result. We can forgive, and not just because to not forgive would only satisfy the one who harmed us. We can forgive because what they did, if it was wrong, was ultimately against God and not against us. And, God can turn evil into good for those who are willing to trust him, and that is the key component. What happened to Joseph in the end only happened because he was able to trust God. I don't think the story would have turned out that way if he had turned on his brothers when he had the chance.

No one can truly harm the believer, at least not in the ultimate long-term (eternal) sense. Others may harm you, but they only win if you turn on them and take the matter into your own hand. And then, you destroy yourself. Those who are willing to forgive and let God judge them are the ones who win. They are the ones who are blessed.

On Behalf of the President of the United States of America

My father was in the Navy steaming towards the Pacific battle zone for his first term of duty when the Atomic Bombs were dropped over Hiroshima and Nagasaki which precipitated the end of World War II. He never saw combat, but he had signed up voluntarily as a 17 year old to go and serve his country. He was willing to lay his life on the line for it.

Last week at his burial a representative handed us a flag neatly folded into a triangle. As he presented it to us he said that he did so "on behalf of the President of the United States of America." It struck me at the time how that sounded. It was touching and full of meaning, but at the same time, I'm quite sure that President Obama had no idea that my father had died and that someone was speaking and giving out a flag on his behalf except to the extent that he knew that it happened regularly at funerals for veterans. He's the President of the United States, still the most powerful nation in the World and with lots of business on his plate every day. There is no way he could possibly handle all the affairs of the Executive branch of government alone and he relies on a lot of people with delegated authority to act in his name. That is just the way it has to be. I would not expect him to know about my father who served a short stint in the Navy long before the President was born and who never saw any combat.

Which makes it all the more amazing that God knew William Jasper Franklin completely and intimately, even better than my dad knew himself and, according to the Bible, is presenting him with a Crown of Glory. It's mind boggling to think that the God of the universe knows him as well as everyone else on this globe, not just as a name, but personally, intimately. Of course, anything less and he would not be omniscient, he wouldn't be God. Still it's something so wonderful that I can't imagine what it means.

For God so loved the world.... That's easy to say when the world is just an abstract collective noun. But, when you know every single individual and can still say that you love so much that you give your son to die for each one of those people, that puts things in a new light. He knows me. He knows all that I think and do. He knows about things that I hope no one else knows about. He knew about them even before there was me. Yet, he still loves me and he put his life where his mouth is. And he knows every other person on this globe in the same way--everyone I have ever met, will meet, or never will meet. He knows them intimately.

What does that have to do with the church and with missions? You tell me. I think I know, but I'd like to hear more. I know that it speaks to where my heart should be. And, when I speak of the Gospel, the good news of God's love, I am offering a gift on behalf of the God of the Universe--not a flag but the possibility of crown of glory. Everyone that I meet, including those who I would rather not have met, has the potential of becoming a creature glorious in God's sight.

A Hero's Welcome (updated)

Probably just about every 5 year old thinks that their father is a hero. You don't even have to be a really great father for them to think you're wonderful at that age. Later that begins to change as the boy grows and discovers his father's weaknesses and as he begins to develop his own identity.

Just a couple of days ago, my father passed away, and I still thought he was a hero. I've been a part of a men's breakfast study group for the past year, and a couple of recent studies focused on fatherhood. As other men described their fathers, I realized again just how blessed I have been. There were very many times when I disagreed with him, when I didn't want to hear what he thought, and when I thought that he was old fashioned and even a bit naive, but I always thought of him as a hero to me. And, as time when on, I even found that he was right most of those times when I had gone my own way. But, I'm talking about heroes, not being right. What was it that made him a hero?

One was that he truly, unconditionally, unashamedly, relentlessly loved his wife--my mother. Note that I didn't just say that he was "in love." He loved her. There is a difference. It was active, not just a feeling. As my brother said yesterday, there were many people who thought that he was so wonderful because of how he took care of my mother the last 2 years of her life when she because so difficult and demanding due to her deteriorating health. In reality, he didn't just take care of her for 2 years; it was 58 years." She was 16 years old when they married and had already had a very difficult life--life threatening bouts with scarlet fever twice, abandoned by her father before she turned 6 and forced to live with relatives (along with her mother and brother), and with a very low self esteem. He made her finish high school, taught her to do all kinds of things, and told her every day how beautiful she was and how wonderful she was, and how much he loved her. And, he lived it daily, too. I have never had to wonder at the meaning when Paul tells husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church. I only had to wonder why it seemed so easy to him.

He was a gracious man. He was a man, a man's man, a hard worker, a fisherman, a hunter, a mechanic, an electrician, a carpenter--in fact he could do almost anything and I said that not only when I was 5 years old, but again as a 16 year old, a 25 year old, all the way down to today. But, he was also the most forgiving many I have ever known--and that includes not just offenses against himself as we usually think of when we think of forgiveness, but also stupid mistakes made by people like his oldest son (I only have one brother, younger than me), like when I forgot that the bolts that hold the brake drums on were reverse threaded. I was checking the brakes and kept trying to break that "stubborn" bolt free until I finally twisted the head off, leaving the bolt still in there. That happened just as he walked out the door. I stood up and tried to keep him from seeing what I had done, to buy a little time. I thought I was so stupid and that he would surely have to remind me of that. I thought there was no solution now that I'd twisted it off. He said, "You do remember that those bolts are reversed threaded?--you have to turn them the other direction from normal bolts.". "Yes, sir, I remember." He paused just a moment and then said, "Did you remember in time?" "Uh, uhh, No, sir. (How did he know?)" He just smiled and said, "Well, that's easy to forget. It's not a problem. We'll just drill out the center with a bit that's barely smaller than the bolt, and then we can twist out the remaining thin pieces. Let's go ahead and go to the parts store and buy a replacement bolt and a drill bit." What a simple solution? How was he so smart? But, more than that, why didn't he take the chance to remind me of how stupid a mistake I had made? I knew my Daddy loved me.

He was shafted on a number of occasions by numerous people, and turned the other cheek. He didn't do it in a sissy way. He did it as a man who had nothing to prove, but even more, a man who knew that Jesus required it. I learned that this was not just an idealistic saying of Jesus. There were men (at least one man--my dad) who took it seriously and lived it. So, why was it so hard for me to do so? I'm still asking myself that question.

And, yes, he loved me and was not afraid to say it or act on it. I didn't find out until after high school that that was not the norm, that every Dad didn't do that. He told me every morning at breakfast and as he left for work, and every day when he came home and every night as we went to bed. He hugged me anytime one of us was leaving, any time something good happened, and often for no reason at all. He told me he was proud of me, even when I dropped out of Little League because I still couldn't hit that ball and got so bored in right field that I would start counting the bugs at my feet so that I'd miss the ball going by (and he was an avid baseball fan, especially the Tigers, so that was a big deal). Once I brought I guy home from college for the weekend and to my great embarrassment when I drove up to the carport, he came to the car and gave me a big bear hug when I got out. Right in front of my friend! I know I turned red and I don't think I hugged him back. And, on Sunday evening when we left to go back, he did it again and even said that he loved me. It did make me feel good, but I didn't want to admit that I was glad because I wondered what my friend would think, but as we were driving back to Auburn, my friend said, "You know, you are a lucky guy to have parents like that. They love each other and they love you. I don't remember my dad ever giving me a hug or saying he loves me. I'd give anything for that." And, I started feeling really lucky as I thought of what that must be like for this friend. I learned a lot from that, not just about love, but about being willing to do what is good without being afraid of what others might think.

As a teen, I began to be very disillusioned with the church and thought that once I got to be able to make my own decisions, I'd just quit going. It bothered me that in church, the "sinners" were all outside--drunkards, adulterers, etc., but those inside were the "righteous." But, "inside" I didn't see the kind of person that Jesus described and felt that no one was truly seeking that. They came to church and said that they believed, but at school on Monday, they were just like everyone else. I had decided that it was all tradition, or just a social network, and that no one really believed it. Well, except for my parents, but if they were the only ones, then they (in my mind) must be pretty naive. Fortunately, I met another guy, just a little older than me, who also believed, and I discovered that there were others. But, it came back to my parents because I got to see them 24 hours, and I knew it wasn't a front. That's when I decided to really go for it and make a commitment to Christianity.

I said he was a hunter, but though he sometimes brought home squirrels or birds, he never brought home a deer, even though he sometimes went deer hunting. I thought he was a bad shot (it never occurred to me that squirrels and birds were even smaller).eHe took me squirrel hunting a few times, but I couldn't sit still long enough to let the squirrels come close enough for us. He didn't take me deer hunting until I was in high school, but on that first hunt, we came upon a beautiful buck with a large rack. He motioned me to be still and quiet as he raised the gun, pointed it at the deer, took aim, and then...nothing. He just stayed there for a few minutes looking through the scope until the deer walked away. He put the gun down, looked at me and said, "Well, we got one. Wasn't he beautiful? And such a rack?" I looked a bit puzzled. "What do you mean by saying we 'got' one?" "We did. I got him in my sights, I kept him there. He walked away on his own, not because we scared him away. That's good enough for now. We aren't hungry. We have plenty to eat. A deer is too beautiful to shoot when you don't need the food. We hunted him and we won, beating out his animal instincts and survival skills. But, that doesn't mean we have to kill." I had a hard time with that one, but it stuck with me. You can "win" without taking the trophy, because you don't have to "prove" that you won. Such self-confidence. He didn't need a rack of antlers on the wall to make him feel good about himself. He was content in just himself knowing that he was competent and successful. So, why do I so often need to prove myself before others, go for the kill, seek the praise of others? I'm still working on that one also.

When we were leaving for Taiwan, he told me that he loved me and that he hated to see me go because he was going to miss me and he knew that if I went, I'd stay there. He knew what he was giving up, but he told me also that he was proud that we were going and that he wouldn't want to see us doing anything else in the world. He tried to be calm because my mom was a basket case the day we left, but he was crying when he hugged me goodbye. When our children were born, I know he and mom were both torn and they wanted desperately to have the grandkids near them like everyone else. As their health deteriorated, it got harder. We thought of coming back. The last time I left, he was crying more than I've seen him before and for the first time he said to me, "Billy, I don't want you to go. It's been so good to have you here with me again, and I'm so lonely." I looked at him, not sure what to say, but he quickly added, "But, I know without any doubt that you are exactly where God wants you, and with that, I don't want you to stay either. But, I'll miss you."

He was a believer, not just a proclaimer. He didn't just talk, he acted. but He was and is my hero. He is, other than Christ himself, what I wish I could be. I so badly wanted to get here before he died, not to tell him this. You see, I've already told him before, although his response was something like, "Of course you think I'm great. I'm your father. But, I'm no better than anyone else. You're just prejudiced toward me." He really thought that he was just "normal" and I couldn't convince him otherwise, but I know. And, the more I see of the world around me--and even more importantly, the more I know of myself--the more I know that he was not normal. He was my hero and always will be.

People keep saying that he is happy now that he is back with his beloved wife Auvlene, and that is certainly true. This last year was very difficult for him. But, I think we think that way because we are limited by our human thinking and feelings. I believe that even more joy to him is that he is with his Lord and he is rejoicing in that, while glad to have Auvlene by his side. You see, I think that on Sunday morning, he received a hero's welcome into the presence of God. I'd like to say that he deserved it, but again, that's just in comparison to most people. What he got was grace, but that was what he practice with others. When will I learn to be like that?

Why is Good Friday good?

We don't usually think about it very much, but I suspect that, to a person who knows nothing about Christianity, it would seem more than a little strange that we call the day Jesus was killed "good." Jesus is our God, the founder of our religion (trying to describe it from their point of view, not mine), the good man that we follow. Why would we celebrate his death, and more than that, why would we call it good?

One perspective would be that it is "good" for us, because his death paid the price for our salvation, and that is true from a believer's perspective, but that is far too self-centered to be the whole picture. I don't think that salvation is nearly as human-centric as we sometimes think. Certainly it is true that God loved/loves us and that means that we have worth as an individual. But, I don't think that salvation is fundamentally just saving us from damnation. It's not a "get out of hell" pass. It's not a ticket to heaven. Those things are included, but not the center.

Salvation is a restoration of a relationship that should never have been broken in the first place. Adam sinned as he rebelled against God. He didn't believe God, didn't trust God, and even to the extent that he did believe, he still decided to go his own way. We are born alienated from God. Our true "damnation" is not just to hell, but to an alienation from God--and by extension, alienation from each other. In fact, C.S. Lewis described hell that way--as the place where man finally gets his wish to be independent and to get his own way. It is for people who, instead of saying as Christ did, "nevertheless, thy will be done," say, "my will be done." Hell is taking our current state of alienation, and making it eternal and more stark. God, in his extreme mercy, gives us a chance to return to the relationship that we were created to have, primarily with God, but also with others by extension.

And, that is the gospel that turns everything that seems real to us upside down. We like the concrete, but God offers us hope. We like it now, but God offers us only a little bit now, with the promise of glory to come. We like things that we can understand, can picture, and can see examples of in nature around us. But Christ offered a gospel that turned it all upside down and backwards. Those who are called "blessed" in the Beatitudes don't sound very blessed in normal human thinking. Christ said to turn the other cheek, to offer a man your cloak, to love your enemies, and much more. He said that, if we want to lead, we have to serve and take the lowest place of a slave or a child. He said that if we want to really, really live, we have to die.

That doesn't make much sense to us most of the time. I know that we can describe it in ways that do make sense and even to say that it doesn't make much sense will probably provoke a strong reaction among a lot of Christians. But, it's easy to tell people what this means and rejoice in this grace in church. It's a lot harder to live it outside (or even in church, for that matter). So, we don't turn the other cheek and don't teach our kids to do so either. We value strength, independence, freedom, honor, glory, position, power. We preach the walk, but seldom really walk the walk. We don't really believe that what Christ tells us to do can really be good. It doesn't make sense.

And, maybe that's what makes Good Friday "good." It's a reminder to us that God doesn't do it the way we would expect. It reminds us that things don't often go the way we want them to go, or in the way that makes sense to us. It reminds us that disaster can be victory, that death really does bring life, that turning the other cheek is not just an ideal or a platitude. It's the way God did it. It tells us that God is the ruler of the universe and that nothing escapes his control. It tells us that, even when he seems to lose control (Can God be killed? Crucified by man?), that is the moment when he exhibits the most power. It's not the kind of power that makes a showy display. It's the kind that gets the job done without anyone noticing that it's working.

Remember when Joseph's father Jacob dies and Joseph's brothers begin to again fear for their lives. How could Joseph not punish them? He had been holding back because he didn't want to hurt his aging father, but now with the father gone, he could do with them as he wished. With that fear in their hearts, they come to him to manipulate him based on the memory of the father and to beg him to forgive them. He responds almost with incredulity, telling them that he couldn't possibly usurp the place of God, but then adds to that a statement that is so simple, but so fraught with meaning. He doesn't at all belittle their sin or overlook their guilt, but he paints a picture of a God who is in completely control, even as they followed their own free will. He says (my paraphrase), "What you did was evil, as you schemed against God, but God had his own plans and He made your plans result in accomplishing His." God is so sovereign that his "rule" is almost incomprehensible to us. He can accomplish his will without pulling strings to make us do anything. The brothers followed their own wicked plans, but in doing so, the put Joseph in the place so that his dreams were fulfilled. They bowed down to him of their own free will.

Tolkien said, "All that is gold does not glitter, not all those that wander are lost." Things are not as they seem. There is a player in the background, and he always gets his way. we don't have to understand; we don't have to see how this is going to work. Good Friday is "good" because it tells us that God's will will be done, on earth as in heaven. There is nothing at all--even what seems to be abject weakness, passivity, and failure--that can stop him from accomplishing his will. That is what is "good" about it.

And so, we can celebrate Good Friday just as much as we can celebrate Easter and resurrection. We can be thankful (which is what the ancient word for the Lord's Supper, the Eucharist, means) for his death. Our thankfulness is not selfish or self-centered because it is not based on what we got out of it. It is because we get to see a glimpse of the power and glory of God even when He does not look at all powerful. And, that is the gospel, that is our faith. It is foolishness to the world because it is completely backwards from our thinking. But, it is that which gives us the power to live as Christ commanded, because we can know that there is nothing at all that Satan or anyone else can possibly do to impede the will of God. No one can harm us as we trust in Him. Nothing can separate us from the love of God and nothing is outside his realm of authority.

And, that is truly good.