John Wesley’s Covenant Prayer

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I am no longer my own, but yours.

Put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will;

Put me to doing; put me to suffering;

Let me be employed for you or laid aside for you,

Exalted for you, or brought low for you;

Let me be full, let me be empty;

Let me have all things, let me have nothing;

I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things to your pleasure and disposal.

And now, glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

You are mine and I am yours.

So be it. And the covenant made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.

Tropical Storm Emily

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Em looks onTropical Storm Emily. Em has turned 24. Not 18; not 21, but 24. (Blog entries for her 18th, and her her 21st (graduation).

I have given this photo by Max a title. “Em looks on.”

The world is at it is. It is both beautiful and torn down; both loved and despised. Alive and full of death. The ancient towers and parapets now crumble, as the new ones will. 

What is beyond that gentle curve of the water? Where are those wild geese flying off to? What is that hippie-fellow thinking about?

Join the mystery; you are part of it, Em.

Cleveland High Jazz 1977

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Cleveland Jazz 1977I’ve had the good fortune to today to reconnect with a long-lost friend through Facebook. It’s hard to describe my feelings; he and I were so close and shared so many memories. I’m sure I’ll write more as time goes on after we get a chance to meet up and talk. But, today, he was kind enough to send me this photo. It was 1977 and the Cleveland High Jazz Band had won first place in a jazz competition up in Kirksville MO at the University. (present day Truman Univ.) This photo is back in St. Louis, I think at SLU high. Honestly, that year, our senior year, we were like rock stars. We played out countless times the spring of that year; I’ve lost track of all the places we performed.

So, that’s the two of us in the bottom-right of the photo, both playing French Horns. French Horns you ask? What are two horns doing in a jazz band? Well, it was because my dear friend Don simply wanted to be in the Jazz band. I drooled with envy over the thought, but would have never had the nerve to do anything about it. Don simply asked the band director and then announced to me that he was in. “He” was in, not “we” were in. He was in because he asked. Well, back in those days I was painfully shy and rarely willing to ask for anything. But, now…well, there was no way my best friend was going without me. We were a team. I walked into the director’s office and…asked. The answer was yes.

For any of you band-score aficionados wondering where we got our charts for two horns in a jazz band, our brilliant band leader wrote them all out by hand. He loved the idea of being different. No other high-school jazz band at that competition had a horn, much less two of them.

It was, quite simply, the best times of my life. The camaraderie that we experienced as we traveled around St. Louis, setting up, performing, tearing down, getting out of class…it was indescribable.

Real Men

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I saw a story listing 20 things all men should know how to do. On the list was operate a chain saw and it reminded of a story.

We had a medium-sized tree in our yard that needed to come down. I knew my dad had a chainsaw, so I called him to borrow it. He was about 75 years old at the time and legally blind, so I was a bit taken aback when he volunteered to come over and help me.

He asked, “have you ever cut a tree down before?”

“No,” I replied.

Later, I was complaining to Annette about it and she asks, “have you ever operated a chain saw?”

“No,” I replied.

“You’d better let him do it,” she advised.

Anyway, I still need to cross that one off my list.

Friday Evening with David Eisenhower

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Going Home to GloryDad, Annette and I went to hear David Eisenhower speak at the St. Louis County Library Friday night. It was very nice. Many more people than I expected. I’m guessing over three hundred. I already had a copy of his new book and was able to stay afterward to get it signed.

His book is entitled Going Home to Glory: A Memoir of Life with Dwight D. Eisenhower, 1961 – 1969. It’s an intimate insider’s look at the last years if Ike’s life at his home in Gettysburg. Reading the book made be very thankful to David for writing it and it was nice to able to shake his hand and thank him in person.

I have read many books on Eisenhower, but none where his title is Granddad. “Nixon said that…” or “Kennedy said this…” and then “Granddad said…”

Aside from the intimacy, there’s the look inside at the political games going on after Ike’s out of the White House. Most notably: Nixon, Kennedy and Johnson calling on Ike for various reasons. Turns out, as we heard from David last night, that Ike and Johnson were pretty close. Not surprising considering Johnson was Senate Minority and then Majority Leader during Eisenhower’s years in the White House. After Johnson became president, he looked to Ike frequently for advice, especially concerning Vietnam.

One great thing about hearing someone like David Eisenhower speak is that you have an opportunity to hear history direct from an original source.

One myth that was, for me, finally confirmed last night was President Truman’s asking Ike to lead the Democratic Ticket in 1948. Truman suggested that Ike run from President and he, Truman would be his Vice President. “If we don’t,” suggested Truman, “MacArthur will win and we can’t have that.” While Ike, no doubt, agreed about MacArthur, he declined to run. Ike’s political affiliations were unknown yet, but he declared himself a Republican soon after.

I’m looking forward to finishing the book.

A Prayer for the homeless

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As I get to work each morning, I enter the Post-Dispatch and take the stairs on the south-side of the building. The stairwell includes large windows that look out towards the St. Patrick Center and Interco Plaza. The St. Patrick Center is a provider of services for the homeless and some of these homeless had taken to camping in this little plaza right outside the center.

One day last fall I stopped on the second floor window to peer out onto this sight and say a quick prayer for the people living on the plaza. As is typical of my prayers, I didn’t include any specifics, just that they would know God and see that He loves them.

Imagine my surprise when, the next morning I walked up the same steps to find that the little plaza was swept clean. It looked like no one had ever “lived” there.

“Whoa,” I thought, “…God, what did you do?”

A bit later it in the day I realized that it was all the talk on the local radio waves. Turns out, some rather insensitive park rangers had orders to move the residents out of the park and had simply thrown away all the belongings of these homeless individuals. The homeless folks were even there while the rangers tossed everything in the compacting trash truck. Well, needless to say, there was outrage across the board, including the Mayor’s office. I felt sure the outrage would turn into something positive for these people and felt confident that God was looking out for them.

From today’s Post:

ST. LOUIS — The two men once bounced from one downtown park to another, sleeping in tents or under cardboard in relative anonymity.Then last fall, Tremayne Gates and Clint Smith briefly became the center of a debate over how the city should treat its homeless and their possessions. …read the rest of the story -

Good Friday

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Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.”

“I am thirsty.” Our Lord, the creator of the universe, was thirsty. I don’t even pretend to understand the fullest meaning of that.

I do know what it’s like to be thirsty; I was thinking though, have I ever been really thirsty? I think profound thirst would be an entirely different experience than most of us have ever imagined.

But here, beaten and crucified some of Jesus’ last words were “I am thirsty?” Are those words out of place? I mean, isn’t the physical pain He’s enduring just off the charts? Well, if we could imagine some of our weakest moments, maybe some acute sickness or pain, I think any of us could see ourselves uttering what otherwise might be considered irrational statements.

But, even here, in this very human moment, in the very same sentence the Scriptures tell us there’s more. “…so that the Scripture would be fulfilled…” So, now I’m imagining Jesus rationally thinking, “Ok, now before I die, I have to remember to say ‘I’m thirsty’ so the Scriptures will be fulfilled.”

No.

Now I realize that He isn’t fulfilling the scriptures, He is the fulfillment. His actions don’t fulfill God’s plan, He is God’s plan. He didn’t carry around a checklist: “OK, let’s see, suffering servant, check, read from Isaiah in the synagogue, check, ride a donkey into Jerusalem, check. Mutter ‘I’m thirsty’ right before I die, check!”

No, Jesus is, as philosophers like to say, “The thing itself.”

So, He was really thirsty, and He was the fulfillment of the Scriptures; both at the same time. That just says it all; human and divine.

Do I know what that means? No, I don’t. But, I know that these things exist. I know that humans exist and I know that the divine exists. And I know that they were not created apart from each other.

It is me that has driven a wedge between the two. It is my sin that keeps them apart. And, it is my sin that drove Jesus to this moment of agonizing thirst.

Jesus is thirsty and I can’t save him. He is up there because of me. Lord, forgive me; I wish it was just a matter of giving you some sour wine to drink. But you’re asking so much more. Tonight, I can scarcely take it in. Seeing you up there, thirsty, crying…I just want it to be over.

Dinner with my 13-year-old self

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I had the good fortune of having a nice talk with my 13-year-old self. We met at an abandoned restaurant; the food and the service were terrible.

My young-self ordered pizza, of course; but some kind of strange…pizza…I guess. Cilantro? Provolone? I don’t know what that is. My older, fatter self assured me it would be fine. And, it would have been…had the restaurant not sucked! The mature-me ordered some Black Bean Dip with Tortillas. They were just bad. How do you serve bad tortilla chips?

Anyway, we wanted to talk about church and religion and stuff. Mini-me was really wondering why I should belong to the church. Or, any church for that matter. After all, I mean, you know, evolution, science, not to mention the horrible boredom! The boredom! Save me from the boredom! Big-me didn’t blame him. It can be boring.

So, I had to remember that I did feel that way at one one time and yet here I am now spending all my time and energy on this church. And, I’m asking him to belong? Why? Am I just being selfish? I “need” him to join, so there’ll be a future? No, it’s much more than that; but how to put it into words? Words for the 13-year-old.

Well, the first item was the inevitable: evolution. I guess it can’t be helped. The Theory of Evolution as taught in our schools seems to contradict the story of Creation in Genesis. When young-me said, in response to my general question as to what problems he has with Christianity with, “you know, like evolution…” – well, I smiled a gigantic smile on the inside. I felt like Michael Jordan must feel with 2 seconds on the buzzer and the ball is passed to him.

“I got this.”

I told him of my love for science and evolution in particular. How that love hasn’t waned since I was his age. How, at first, it seemed like a stumbling block to faith in Christ, but turned out not to be. I told him of the story when I prayed that God would “give me the answer.” That’s right, I wanted an answer.

I got one. An answer, however, that mini-me might not appreciate just yet. I felt it sufficient for now that he trusted that I loved both science and Jesus.

The little guy’s brain moved fast. Enough of this evolution stuff, what about Satan and Hell? Yeah, what about that?

“My Mom thinks everyone goes to Heaven,” he said.

“I know,” said I. She’s a good person.

I wanted so bad to tell him that goodness like that is very hard to find out in the world. I knew no better when I was his age. I thought everybody was good. Why not? Why shouldn’t they be? I felt sad. But, I’m sorry, at thirteen, he’s still got some kid years left and I’m not going to despoil them.

Instead I wondered aloud if he’d ever read the Book of Job. He laughed, “Job?” pronouncing it j-o-b, like going to work job. What do kids care about old names? No one is named Job. Anyway, I told him to get a paraphrase Bible and read Job, he’d like it.

He deduced on his own that if there’s no Hell, then Hitler’s in Heaven. He didn’t like that. I don’t either. See, the crack? We can handle, or prefer, that there be no Hell, but not that there’s no Heaven either. Why, that would be atheistic.

After that came the obligatory Buddhist/reincarnation/nirvana/new-age/i’m not really sure what I saying stuff. I know, I know, I get it…God I’m bored with that stuff.

I think I’ll stick with art. He says he likes art. Why did the artists of yesteryear paint people in such “primitive” ways? Well, that’s how they saw the world. Why did we used to think that the sun rose in the east? Because that’s exactly what it looks like. Why did the writers of Genesis write such a primitive story?

I’ll keep you posted….

Mom turns 80

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MomA big day. On February 22, Mom turned 80 years old. Wow.

First of all, she looks great. (That’s her on the deck of the Admiral circa 1954.) She’s in great shape due to the luck of good genes and taking good care of herself through the years. I can still see her on the living-room floor when I was a boy with a little wheel on an axle, rolling forward, then up, forward, then up. Even then, she had this kind of, “hey, I don’t know about you, but I’m planning on living for a while,” attitude. We would just say, “hey, I can’t see the television!”

Richard Dawkins: The Greatest Show on Earth

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Greatest Show on EarthOr, so he thinks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of Dawkins. Or, maybe, was a big fan is more accurate. His book The Selfish Gene, published in 1976 had quite an impact on my view of evolution. Nowadays, Dawkins is known more for his anti-religious rants than for his science writings. Why? Well, maybe because he describes religion as a “virus of the mind.” He, of course, is not alone in these sentiments; it’s quite popular these days to make fun of religious people and their faith.

But, this is a book about evolution, right? It was supposed to be and that’s why I read it. It was about evolution, mind you. I’d say a good 90% of it was. I guess he couldn’t help himself the other 10% of the time; bashing dim-witted Christians who believe in the Creation as told in Genesis. I made it through, though, and, for the most part, enjoyed it.

Richard Dawkins knows of what he speaks when it comes to evolution. I already knew that and it’s the only reason I put up with his rants.  Oh, how I wished the book would be more about evolution.When he digs in to the meat of it, it’s really good. When you’re done, you really have a feel for how evolution works; how time progresses during the changes, sometimes slow, sometimes abrupt. It’s really remarkable when you think about it.

He starts his book with a lengthy exposition on dog breeding. Why? Because it’s something that we can all see and understand. We can easily see the difference between breeds of dog, say a Chihuahua and a Great Dane. And, we all know that these vast differences are due only to a few thousand years of selective breeding by humans. And, most of that time, the humans had no knowledge of genetics. They simply “selected” by behavior or physical characteristics. If dogs could change this much in a few thousand years, imagine the changes possible in a few million years.

Another great story Dawkins recounts is that of the “domesticated silver fox.” This is a case where a Soviet scientist bred foxes for tameness. He simply bred together foxes that were nicer than the others and what resulted were foxes that really looked and acted like dogs. Now, keep in mind that we now know that in our dogs there is absolutely no fox genes, only wolf. So, without boring you to death, what this really gets at is just what is a species anyway.

And, this subject, is exactly what the debate between evolutionists and creationists is all about. Dawkins would be far better served by educating us on this subject more and stomping on our souls less.