She Was Afraid to Come Out of the Locker...

'Thou shalt not commit adultery.' ~ The Seventh Commandment of the Lord our God.


Jon will be bringing us God's Word regarding the Seventh Commandment this coming Sabbath. Sadly, it comes a bit too late for this fella.


Thomas Martel, 28, of Bonnie Brae is a big guy. So he has a hard time using the features on ever-shrinking user interfaces on devices like his new iPhone. At least, he did, until he had his thumbs surgically altered in a revolutionary new surgical technique known as 'whittling.'



‘Christian modesty is the inner self-government, rooted in a proper understanding of one's self before God, which outwardly displays itself in humility and purity from a genuine love for Jesus Christ, rather than in self- glorification or self-advertisement. Christian modesty then will not publicly expose itself in sinful nakedness.’ ~ Jeff Pollard, Christian Modesty and the Public Undressing of America.



Are you concerned about those creepy Gamma Rays? No need to worry with NukAlert!



'Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery...' ~ Galatians 5:19, 20


Some of my fraternity brothers:

Food for thought: Re-thinking bikini clad girls and bare chested boys.

‘What do you do if your dad loses consciousness in a speeding big rig and you’re only nine-years-old?’

‘It is about the right of a Christian to share his faith in public without the fear of arrest.’

In Memory of Miss Ruth

‘Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.’ ~ Proverbs 31:30

I am thankful for the life of Ruth Dillard who went home to be with the Lord to-day. She loved God and used the gifts He gave her to serve Him and others. We can all learn a great deal from her example.

The Workin' Man Blues

'Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.' ~ II Thessalonians 4:11,12

I was raised to take the sentiments expressed in the verse above to heart--to work hard, be self-sufficient, and take care of my own business. I would just as soon chew on broken glass than take a hand out. In fact, I find it very difficult to ask for help from others--even when I have done all within my power to improve my lot or alleviate difficult circumstances. (This fact frustrates Ashlee to no end, as you can imagine.)

That being said, I find great joy in being able to help others. Jon and I were discussing this the other day in regards to his observation that this condition of radical rugged individualism seems to be epidemic among Texans. We will bend over backwards to help others but have to be brought kicking and screaming to allow others to assist us. At the root of it all, really, is the perpetual boogey-man who torments us all: Pride.

Yet, if we consider how good we feel when we help others (though it's just a fringe benefit, with the primary reason being our love for Christ), should we deny others the same feeling? Really, by allowing others to minister to us--we, in turn, minister to them.

'Hey, hey, Workin' Man

A workin' man like me.

I ain't never been on Welfare

And that's one place I won't be

Cause I keep on workin'

As long as my two hands are fit to use.

~ Merle Haggard, Workin' Man Blues

'They say: "It costs less money to build schoolhouses than jails." But what if it turns out that the state's expenditure in schoolhouse is one of the things which necessitates the expenditure in jails?' ~ Rev. R. L. Dabney

The unit I was in during my hitch in the Army (2d Armored Cavalry Regiment) has a colourful history. In the waning days of World War II, troopers of the 2d ACR rescued the Lipizzaner Stallions from certain destruction at the hands of the Red Hoarde.

One of my favourite books about one of my heroes—William Wallace—is Jane Porter’s historical novel, The Scottish Chiefs.

Kirk Cameron has come a long way from his days as Mike Seaver on 'Growing Pains.' He now has a fantastic evangelism ministry, The Way of the Master. I don't agree with all of their theological positions but they have a great heart for sharing the Gospel and they go about it as I wish I could--fearlessly.

Since my last Blast-from-the-Past Army picture was so popular--here's another offering from January 1991:

‘The head of the family is to take care that none of the family withdraw himself from any part of family-worship: and, seeing the ordinary performance of all the parts of family-worship belongs properly to the head of the family, the minister is to stir up such as are lazy, and train up such as are weak, to a fitness to these exercises...’ ~ The Directory for Family Worship [IV], bound with the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland's edition of the Westminster Confession of Faith [1647], reprinted 1994.

This one's for Pastor Coleman: “Everywhere there is apathy. Nobody cares whether that which is preached is true or false. A sermon is a sermon whatever the subject; only, the shorter it is the better.” ~ Charles Spurgeon (From the 1888 Sword and Trowel Annual Volume Preface).

“If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.” —C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity.

I Know I Had It Comin'; I Know I Can't Be Free

'Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' ~ Matt. 24: 34-36.

The Holy Spirit pierced my heart last night through the most unlikely manner--while I was watching 'Johnny Cash at San Quentin.' I admire Johnny Cash both for his music, which I love, and for the example of Christ's redemption displayed in his life. (As Hank Williams, Jr. sang: 'Johnny Cash don't act like he did back in '68.') But what struck me last night as I watched and listened was the obvious compassion he felt for the convicts in the audience. It was plain to see that he cared for and pitied them.

If I am honest with myself, I must admit to a large degree of callousness towards those in prison. I am more apt to see them rot for their transgressions than to feel pity. Do they (at least those who are truly guilty) deserve their lot?--certainly, for justice demands it. But, for the Christian, there should be--there must be--room for compassion. It is a beautiful mirror of the relationship we have with the Saviour-- '...but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us' (Romans 5:8).

I thank God for such as Charles Colson, the Gideons, and others who minister to the incarcerated and pray that God will work on my heart to see the unlovable among us as Christ once saw me.

Job lived with dinosaurs.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing I ran across during my visit to Austria about ten years ago was a stained-glass window in the local Roman church in Graz, the Stadtpfarrkirche. There, high above the altar and to the right, stand Hitler and Mussonlini watching Christ's flagellation. Why the artist placed them there is anyone's guess (it was constructed in the 1950's); still, it is quite the tourist attraction for the little town. (I have blacked-out the image of Jesus in the photo below.)

This is for just in case you need it.

Have you prayed for your pastors to-day? ‘Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.’
~ James 3:1

The emerging link between UFO/ Alien sightings and the occult.

Are you smarter than a homeschooler? Probably not!

‘I didn't hear nobody pray, dear brother

I didn't hear nobody pray.

I heard the crash on the highway

But I didn't hear nobody pray.’
~ Roy Acuff, Wreck on the Highway

Here is a photo of the band I was in back in college:

One Nation, Under Vishnu.

'Hawaii has always been a very pivotal role in the Pacific. It is in the Pacific. It is a part of the United States that is an island that is right here.' ~ Vice President Dan Quayle (4/25/89)

Number 17--You're Order Is Ready

'And God blessed them. And God said to them, 'Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.' ~ Genisis 1:28

Some people love God's Word.

Some people despise God's Word.

The Biblical and Historical Significance of the Beard.

Christ-mas in Saudi Arabia, 1990.

I must have repeated Psalm 25:7 ('The Lord is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts and I am helped...') a hundred times to myself this past Sunday as I steeled myself to face what is perhaps my greatest fear: public speaking. In this particluar case, I, as a deacon, was called upon to offer the prayer of dedication for the tithes and offerings during the service. Ordinarily, I would prefer to have bamboo shoots shoved under my fingernails than perform in public, but with the prayers of my wife and many friends God saw me through it. In addition to prayer and an utter dependence upon the Lord to get me through, I was inspired by an account given regarding a personal hero, Stonewall Jackson:

'On one occasion [the Rev.] Dr. White called
upon [Jackson] to pray in public. He was so
much confused that Dr. White told him, some
days afterward, that he would never require
so unpleasant a task of him again. [Jackson]
replied that it was a cross to him to pray in
public, but that he had made up his mind to
bear it, and did not wish to be excused. He
persevered, and became very fluent and
easy in public prayer.'

That, too, is my prayer--that God will grant me the mercy to overcome what I know is an irrational fear, yet all too real at the same time. It is my dragon to slay. I suspect that I will grow more at ease with each ascent to the pulpit, remembering what Pastor Coleman told those of us in the church officers training class this past semester: To be an effective leader in God's Church, you cannot take counsel of your fears.

‘Like my father before me

I will work the land.

And like my brother above me

Who took a rebel stand.

He was just eighteen, young and brave

But a Yankee laid him in his grave.

I swear by the mud below my feet

You can’t raise a Caine back up when he’s in defeat.’

~ The Night They Drove Ol’ Dixie Down, The Band

I Got Tagged!

Austin Ayers got me, so here are my answers:

- 4 jobs I have had: Mr. Gatti's Pizza; Security Guard at Compaq Computers; community college history teacher; archivist.
- 4 films I could watch over and over: National Lampoon's Vacation; Fletch; Good Morning, Vietnam; Braveheart
- 4 Places I have lived: My mama's womb; Corpus Christi, TX; Houston, TX; Bamberg, West Germany.
- 4 Favorite TV shows: King of Queens; Simpsons; Jericho; NCIS
- 4 Favorite Foods: Freebird's burrito; shepherd's pie; Marian Coleman's chicken salad; chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream (Bluebell only, thank you!)
- 4 Websites I visit everyday: Drudge Report; LewRockwell.com; Fox News; ESPN
- 4 Places I would love to be: Australia; Montana; Hawaii; Freebird's (see above)
- 4 Favorite Colors: Confederate Grey; black; red; blue (and Freebird's)
- 4 of my heroes: (Jesus is a given, so I'm gonna pick four in addition)--R. L. Dabney; Stonewall Jackson; Robert E. Lee; William Wallace
(Everybody I know has been tagged already.)

You Gotta Serve Somebody

'No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.' ~ Matt. 6:24


‘You may be a construction worker working on a home,
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome,
You might own guns and you might even own tanks,
You might be somebody's landlord, you might even own banks
But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody.’
~ Bob Dylan, You Gotta Serve Somebody (Slow Train Coming)


‘When a young mother sought [Robert E.] Lee's advice for raising her infant son, Lee replied, “Teach him he must deny himself.”’


The wisest financial advice you’ll ever receive.


Q. 142. What are the sins forbidden in the eighth commandment?

A. The sins forbidden in the eighth commandment, besides the neglect of the duties required, are, theft, robbery, man-stealing, and receiving any thing that is stolen; fraudulent dealing, false weights and measures, removing landmarks, injustice and unfaithfulness in contracts between man and man, or in matters of trust; oppression, extortion, usury, bribery, vexatious lawsuits, unjust inclosures and depopulations; ingrossing commodities to enhance the price; unlawful callings, and all other unjust or sinful ways of taking or withholding from our neighbour what belongs to him, or of enriching ourselves; covetousness; inordinate prizing and affecting worldly goods; distrustful and distracting cares and studies in getting, keeping, and using them; envying at the prosperity of others; as likewise idleness, prodigality, wasteful gaming; and all other ways whereby we do unduly prejudice our own outward estate, and defrauding ourselves of the due use and comfort of that estate which God hath given us.
~ Westminster Larger Catechism


‘It is immediately obvious … that gambling is sinful. It involves breaking the eighth commandment: “Thou shalt not steal”. Gambling is basically an attempt to gain something at someone else’s expense without giving adequate value in return. The fact that the parties involved agree to this transaction is irrelevant and cannot justify it, any more than the fact that two men agree to fight a duel justifies one of the men killing the other. An agreement to do something wrong is itself wrong. If the one who gambles wins, he is a thief; if he loses, he is guilty of wasting that which the Lord has given to him in trust, whether money or property.’


"[H]ad the Confederates somehow won, had their victory put them in position to bring their chief opponents before some sort of tribunal, they would have found themselves justified . . . in stringing up President Lincoln and the entire Union high command for violation of the laws of war, specifically for waging war against noncombatants."
~ Lee Kennett, Marching through Georgia: A Life of William Tecumseh Sherman, p. 286


'War is a racket. It always has been. It is possibly the oldest, easily the most profitable, surely the most vicious. It is the only one international in scope. It is the only one in which the profits are reckoned in dollars and the losses in lives.'
~ U.S. Marine Corps Major General Smedley Butler

Can You Hear It? Dawn is Breaking!

It's about five minutes 'til five in the a.m. and I am blogging. I would prefer to be sleeping but Gracie Mae put an end to that two hours ago. It is amazing how much torque a 24-pound child can apply to a 200-pound man! She can vie for position better than Shaquille O'Neal in the low post! The really strange thing is how well she slept with her head nestled in my armpit for 45 minutes. (I'm still not sure who got the worse end of that deal.)
Between the three of us restlessly trying to get comfortable and back to sleep, our bed looked like a litter of piglets fighting in a cotton sack.

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A classic from way back in the day: 'Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer.'

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After posting a Knox Memory on Hannah's blog the other day, it got me to thinking and I remembered another funny incident featuring the youngest of the Anderson clan.
Gracie Mae was only a few months old when we were invited over to Rancho del Anderson for supper. We were all in our places: Rachel and Jon were at either end of the table (to keep order, I am sure), while Ashlee and I faced across from The Girls who sat, pretty as a picture, in order by age (and heighth, as it were). Happy Jack was only speaking a few words at the time; he sat next to me. I wasn't sure how that was going to work out because, as we know, Happy Jack is as unpredictable as he is cute. (I have no HJ incidents to report.)
Knox sat in his highchair in an unassuming corner of the dining room--and he didn't really seem to mind. He remained largely silent, content to observe and listen to us, piping up only when running short of food. (Notice I wrote running 'short' of food, not running 'out' of food.)
As you can imagine, we were having a grand time filled with laughter and sharp conversation. Jon and I were discussing one of the historically great soteriological disputes of the Church--or maybe were talking about 'Smokey and the Bandit' (I can't remember)--when the low hum of the meal was shattered by an outburst of surprise, peppered by consternation, from Rachel: 'OH STINK!'
Judging by the way she bolted from her chair in his direction, it didn't take me long to deduce that she was reacting to Knox--who had quietly, unnoticed by all but his mama, thrown up all over himself. In fact, he was still fast at it when I looked over at him. (I was still a new parent and had not built up my baby puke immunity yet, so I had a tough time with it.)
I'm not sure whether it was Rachel's consternation with herself for having fed Knox something that she said she knew better than to give him or Knox's 'What's the Big Deal?' look of incredulity on his face as she wiped him up, but the rest of us got a pretty good chuckle out of the entire episode. The clincher was when Anne Michal gave her 'look'--you know the one where she raises her eyebrows, gives a wry smile, and glances over at you as if to say, 'Hey, what can you do?!'

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Southernism of the Day: 'Just cause a cat has kittens in the oven, that don't make 'em biscuits!'

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Eric Manthei asked me a few weeks ago what I looked like without a beard. Well, here you go:

Five Things and More

Below is a list of five things that are better than being greeted at the door by my wife and daughter when I arrive home from work:



1)
2)
3)
4)
5)


(Hey, do you want to know a secret?)




One of my favourite albums of all time is Paul Simon's Graceland. I began listening to the local oldies radio station in Houston when I was in high school, so I was familiar with Simon's body of work. (Sadly, it appears that most stations believe his catalogue consists ONLY of 'Mrs Robinson' and 'Sounds of Silence'.) However, I was completely unaware in 1986 that he had something new in the offing.
My introduction to Graceland was actually quite accidental (and I mean that in the Presbyterian sense of the word!). I noticed my nerdy geometry teacher's copy sitting on his desk as I passed by (like a bat out of Hades, I might add) on my way out of class. My interest was piqued and the rest, as they say, is history.
Suffice it to say--and I won't bore you with a long-winded exposition on why I believe it should be in everyone's collection--it is a great album. It is at times joyful and ebullient, at others contemplative and thought-provoking; yet, it is always entertaining. My suggestion? Click on the link above and order yourself a copy. (You'll thank me later.)


Those who know Ashlee are aware that she has a joyful disposition (the days following the long nights with Gracie Mae notwithstanding) and is extremely easy to get along with. You may not know, however, what a great sense of humour she has. Sure, she cuts up with folks and loves to joke around--but she saves her REALLY funny side for Gracie Mae and me. I don't even think that her immediate family really understands just how funny she can be.
That being said, she also has her 'duh moments' (as do we all). So, with her permission, I will periodically share what I like to call 'Ashlee Moments.'
Ashlee Moment #1: In the way of background, let me preface this by explaining that one of Ashlee's and my favourite movies is 'So I Married an Axe Murderer' starring Mike Myers. (Since the object of the title is a woman--obviously--it would be more accurately entitled, 'So I Married an Axe Murderess.' But I digress.) Another of Ashlee's (recent) favourites is the gameshow, 'Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?' For some reason (it could have been the fact that she was defending herself from the frantic frontal assault of Gracie Mae in the living room floor), Ashlee confused the two when asking me what was on television the other night: 'Hey,' she said, 'is "So I Married a Fifth Grader" on to-night?'


Are you Pro-Life? Fiscally conservative? Peace-loving? So is he!

Quotables

Listed below are some of my favouring movie quotes from some of my favourite movies--many, or most, of which I won't watch again due to their inappropriate nature. Still, we'll always have Wally World!


~ Raising Arizona:

H. I.: ‘Edwina's insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase.’

Evelle: ‘These [balloons] blow up into funny shapes and all?’
Grocer: ‘Well no... unless round is funny.’

FBI Agent: ‘Sir, we discovered you were born Nathan Huffheins.’
Nathan Arizona, Sr: ‘Yeah, I changed my name. What of it?’
FBI Agent: ‘Can you give us an indication why?’
Nathan Arizona, Sr: ‘Would you shop at a store called Unpainted Huffheins?’

~ Caddy Shack:

Sandy: ‘I want you to kill every gopher on the golf course!’
Carl Spackler: ‘Correct me if I'm wrong Sandy, but if I kill all the golfers, they're gonna lock me up and throw away the key...’
Sandy: ‘Not golfers, you great fool! Gophers! The *little* *brown*, *furry* *rodents* -!’
Carl Spackler: ‘We can do that; we don't even have to have a reason. All right, let's do the same thing, but with gophers -!’

Danny Noonan: ‘I've always wanted to go to college.’
Judge Smails: ‘Well, the world needs ditch diggers, too.’

Judge Smails: ‘Danny, I'm having a party this weekend.’
[Pauses a beat]
Judge Smails: ‘How would you like to come over and mow my lawn? Hmmm? Hmmm?’

~ Fletch:

Dr. Joseph Dolan: ‘Right. Now, how long have you had these pains, Mr. Barber?’
Fletch: ‘No, that's "Babar".’
Dr. Joseph Dolan: ‘Two B's?’
Fletch: ‘One B: B-A-B-A-R.’
Dr. Joseph Dolan: ‘That's two.’
Fletch: ‘Yeah, but not right next to each other. I thought that's what you meant.’
Dr. Joseph Dolan: ‘Arnold Babar. Isn't there a children's book about an elephant named Babar?’
Fletch: ‘I don't know. I don't have any.’
Dr. Joseph Dolan: ‘No children?’
Fletch: ‘No elephant books.’

Fletch (upon arrival at Stanwyk’s mansion): ‘Wow, what a coincidence! You know, I came this close to buying this place? Then I found out Hopalong Cassidy killed himself here. Blew it for me.
Stanwyk: 'What?'
Fletch: 'Bow-and-arrow. Very weird.’

~ National Lampoon’s Vacation:

Car Salesman: ‘You mean you didn’t order the Metallic Pea?’
Clark: ‘Metallic Pea?! No! I distinctly ordered the Antarctic Blue super sports wagon--with the CB and optional rally fun pack!’

Wally World Security Guard: 'Sorry, folks--park's closed. The moose out front shoulda told ya.'

Cousin Eddie: ‘How do you like yours, Clark?’
Clark: ‘Oh, medium rare, a little pink inside.’
Cousin Eddie: ‘No, your bun. Light or dark?’
Clark: ‘Either way, it doesn't matter.’
Cousin Eddie: ‘Mmmmm! I don’t know why they call this stuff Hamburger Helper—it does just fine by itself! I like it better than Tuna Helper, myself. Don't you, Clark?’
Clark: ‘You’re the gourmet around here, Eddie.’

Ellen (after shotgun blast at Dodge City): ‘Are you happy now, Clark? She’s deaf!’
Clark: ‘Oh, what’s the difference? It was fun anyway!’

Ellen: ‘Clark, I think we're lost.’
Clark: 'We're not lost. Ellen, please, let me do the driving.'
Ellen: 'I don't think you'll find the Grand Canyon on this road.'
Clark: ‘...It’s only the biggest…hole in the world!’
Aunt Edna: ‘Clark! Watch your language!’
Clark: ‘Make that the second biggest.’

Catherine: 'This little one holding onto my skirt is Daisy-Mabel.'
Clark: 'Well, how old are you little one?'
Eddie: 'Uh, she was born without a tongue, Clark. But don't you worry about her--she can whistle like a bird and eat like a horse!'

~ Smokey and the Bandit:

[Looking at The Bandit in a hammock] Big Enos: ‘Son, you're looking at a legend.’
Little Enos: ‘I guess a legend and an out-of-work bum look a lot a like, daddy.’

Buford T. Justice: ‘Hey boy, where is Sheriff Branford at?’
Sheriff Branford: ‘I AM Sheriff Branford.’
Buford T. Justice: ‘Oh, heh-heh. Pardon me. For some reason you sounded a little...taller on the radio.’

Bandit (to Sheriff Justice): ‘Who ya chasin’? Somebody chasin’ you?’
Sheriff: ‘Nobody chasin’ me, boy. I been chasin’ a…maniac all the way from Texarkana, Texas!’
Bandit: ‘Really?! What is he, a bank robber?’
Sheriff: ‘Bank robber? Bank robbin’ is [nothing] alongside-a what this dude is doin’! Almost killed 10 law officers! Drivin’ through people’s backyards, knockin’ over mailboxes. He’s got a broad in the car, took her across the state line—that’s the Mann Act! I don’t think he’s got her permission—and that’s kidnapping! How’s that for hi-jinks?'

~ Honourable Mention--Cool Hand Luke:
Dragline: 'My boy says he can eat fifty eggs, he can eat fifty eggs.'
Loudmouth Steve: 'Yeah, but in how long?'
Luke: 'An hour.'
Society Red: 'Well, I believe I'll take part of that wager.'

All We Are Saying...

'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.' ~ Matthew 5:9

I don't recall the circumstances of why the topic arose, yet last week my pastor and I were discussing the aspect of the Sermon on the Mount referenced above. I believe there is a great deal more to the Messiah's discourse than may initially meet the eye. I would submit that peace making is an entirely different course of action than mere peace keeping (which, in the modern sense, has proven quite impotent, to say the least). In fact, as He did throughout the Sermon, Christ expanded upon man's notions of right and wrong, rather than, as many to-day believe, dispelling the Law altogether and bestowing an uber-liberty unto Christians, giving them license to live as they please.

Keeping the peace, while not always easily achieved to be sure, requires little more of the peacekeeper (in varying degrees, of course) than a combination of persuasion, coercion, and/ or separation of the quarreling parties. Overt or active hostilities have usually ceased by the arrival of the peacekeeper(s); he need only to prevent a resumption of the struggle. In other words, the issue at hand is not resolved, amends are not made, and wounds are not healed. The best result usually is an uneasy and extremely fragile detente.

Peace making, on the other hand, requires a great deal more in the way of talent in order to achieve peace--skill, persistence, and (ideally) a love for all parties involved deeply rooted in the love of Christ. Only when the salve of Christ's love is applied to the hearts of the warring parties can a real--and lasting--peace manifest itself.

Keeping the peace omits resolution and is tenuous at best. Making peace where there is active, participatory enmity is a task only accomplished through and by God. Few of us relish the thought of inserting ourselves into a volatile situation, irrespective of our desire for all to live at peace. We dislike conflict and avoid it like the plague. Yet, there is a blessing promised to those who make peace. Which of us will assign such little value to a blessing as to reject or avoid it?

Of course, the perfect example of peacemaking is Christ Himself, the Prince of Peace: 'For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.' ~ Romans 5:10.

A Change in Course

I had (more or less) given up posting on this space due to a combination of factors: incredulity at the prospect that anyone cares about what I may think about an issue, the inverse relation of the new duties I have accrued of late to the amount of free time available to me, and (finally) fear at the prospect that my pastor might choose to check up on what I am writing.

That being said, my pastor asked me the other day whether I had a blog and I replied in the negative (giving him an honest assessment of why). To be totally honest, I had forgotten all about this space. However, I have noticed over the past weeks that many of my church family keep in touch with one another's lives through the blogosphere. I posted on another blog to this morning and, rather than do so anonymously, I remembered by blogger i.d., etc. and decided to revisit this page.

As you can imagine, I got the itch to blog again. I make no promises regarding how often I'll do so but I hope it will be more often than not. (Oh, boy...here we go.)

Who Do We Worship?

With the 2008 U.S. Presidential election rapidly approaching (we are a scant 21 months away!), the candidates of both parties find themselves simultaneously selling their political vision to the people and parrying the accusations--and illuminations--that threaten to sink their candidacies.

Take former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney who is currently absorbing the jabs at his religion, Mormonism. Conventional wisdom, in addition to numerous public opinion polls, indicates that a Mormon hasn't a snowball's chance in Hades of being elected President. The odds increase in the candidate's favour if he is a Democrat; a Republican doesn't have a prayer. Therefore, in a thinly veiled attempt to link himself to John F. Kennedy (in addition to the fact that they both hailed from Massachusetts), Romney has cast himself--and his religion--as being misunderstood and harmless. That is hardly surprising. Very few people in the world would admit to being a threat--very few, but some. He has even dusted off the senior Senator from the Beehive State, Orrin Hatch (also a Mormon), to reassure the GOP faithful that the LDS is not a cult (e]Experience and observation notwithstanding).

What alarms me more than Romney's professed religious affiliation (which appears to be nominal at best) is his actual religious affiliation. Mitt Romney, not unlike so many others to-day unfortunately, worships the government. He has readily admitted (as did Kennedy) that his primary loyalties lie in Washington, D.C. and not in Salt Lake City. To wit: 'I very clearly subscribe to Abraham Lincoln's view of America’s political religion. And that is when you take the oath of office, your responsibility is to the nation, and that is first and foremost' [emphasis mine].

Anyone who speaks well of Abraham Lincoln is extremely suspect in my book to begin with; but his reference to 'America's political religion' is absolutely horrifying. Anyone who would subordinate their religious beliefs to the political/ secular should be ashamed of themselves. To be clear, this is not to be misconstrued so as to lead anyone to believe I advocate subversion or anarchy. On the contrary, we are very clearly called to obey the government and honour the king (or president, as the case may be). However, we are not to obey laws or decrees that run contrary to the Word of God or violate His Law.

Unfortunately, it appears that Romney's views are surprisingly predominate in evangelical circles to-day. Their first loyalty is to the GOP with God a close second. Now, let's all face Washington, D.C. and pray...

Modernist Arrogance

To be sure, one of the greatest errors of Catholicism is the overemphasis placed on tradition. The Catholic Church, in fact, places the Magisterium on equal footing with Scripture, giving them equal weight and authority in regards to theology and doctrine. Yet, while one of the greatest truths to (re)emerge from the Reformation was that of sola scriptura, and, without a doubt, the authority afforded tradition by the Catholic Church is certainly errant, it is important that we Protestants do not throw out the baby with the bathwater. Tradition, while not authoritative, is extremely beneficial in our understanding and employment of the revealed Word of God in Scripture.

The Church seems to exist in a vacuum of late. We hold to many doctrines and teachings that not only were not part of the apostolic faith but, rather, are recent inventions offered initially as a way to forestall or placate the progress of the humanist onslaught. The result is a Christian weltanschauung that bears little resemblance to the faith of our fathers and would be hardly recognisable to them.

When confronted, those who are of the more modernist bent, rely on the most contorted of interpretations of Scripture to buttress their arguments. Those of us who hold to the historic faith can point to those same verses in support of our claims as well. An important consideration, I submit, would be to examine how the church has historically viewed the issue at hand--how did our fathers approach the issue?

Athanasius, the Father of Orthodoxy, 'always [based] his conclusions upon Scripture, and [appealed] to the authority of tradition only in proof that he rightly [understood] and [expounded] the sacred books. The catholic faith, [said Athanasius], is that which the Lord gave, the apostles preached, and the fathers have preserved; upon this the church is founded, and he who departs from this faith can no longer be called a Christian.' (Schaff, History of the Christian Church, v. III, Nicene and Post-Nicene Christianity, A.D. 311-600, p. 606, 607). That is an aspect of the faith we have ignored--are we properly divining the Word or have we missed something? How arrogant that we, who have changed the Church so much in the past 50 years, feel as if we have more understanding than those saints who came before us the previous 2,000! The Church would be hardly recognisable to them, yet we glory in our errancy.

I will in future posts be discussing several of the ways in which we have left the faith of our fathers for the pottage of modernity. Certainly, most of us have done so only because that is in fact what we have been taught. I hope to awaken those like me who, once they understand the error, will seek to recapture the historic and apostolic manner of the Christian walk.

Brokevow Mountain

No one in the Church, I would put forth, has been surprised by the barrage of positive PR oozing out of Hollywood in support of its latest attempt to unfasten the moral fiber of our society--the homoerotic filth from Ang Lee known as 'Brokeback Mountain.'

Lost in the justified furor by many professing Christians is the heart of the plot of the film. Say what you will about its glorification of a perverse and aberrant lifestyle, I have heard not one voice speak to another (almost more glaring) aspect--the main characters, whilst carrying on their long sodomitic journey, are betraying their wives and families. That's right, queer or not, they are SERIAL ADULTERERS! Has that escaped the notice of most folks?

In my opinion, the pro-homo agenda is enough to keep me as far away from any theatre showing that film as possible; but the manner in which the adultery is accepted (or at best unnoticed) is alarming to me. I am afraid that, if it were a man and a woman involved (wouldn't that be refreshing in and of itself?), the movie would have slipped under the radar and evoked no controversy at all--and that is what is really sad.

The Church will, apparently, tolerate Hollyweird's incessant glorification of lust, fornication, and adultery with nary a peep. (How else do we account for the millions of dollars these films make?)

Reconciling the Impossible

As my wife and I continue down the path of Reformed Theology which we first tread two years ago, we are continually confronted with the reality of human finiteness and the need to rest—to completely rest—in our faith.

When one begins to attain a better (yet never complete) understanding of Scripture, he is consistently recognising that God’s Word contains innumerous antinomies, or ideas and concepts (doctrinal positions, etc.) which appear diametrically opposed to one another. Yet, we know that God does not contradict Himself—and He cannot deceive or lie.

One such antinomy that has generated hours of discussion between my bride and me is that of God’s decretive will (which, of course, follows naturally from a candid discussion of predestination). We are told, in the Word, that God is sovereign and that everything that comes to pass has been ordained (decreed) by God beforehand. In fact, all that has existed or ever will exist does so only with the supportive will of God. His will sustains the universe. We are also told that we are responsible for our actions, which certainly includes our sin.

How can this be?

It was while we were discussing this on a drive home through the country that it hit me. It is, at least to our finite intelligence, impossible for God’s decretive will and our free agency (as distinguished from free will) to coexist. In other words, it is impossible. Yet, it is also impossible to walk on water, turn water into wine, give sight to the blind (apart from modern medical procedures), raise the dead, and be resurrected. So, why do we, the faithful, accept the latter impossibilities ascribed to an omnipotent God who can do the impossible, yet, as it pertains to seemingly contradictory concepts, find it difficult to reconcile?

Reconciliation of the antinomian aspects of doctrine and theology is quite simple, actually. If something is impossible, it cannot be done—outside of the miraculous actions of God, who is not constrained by the laws of the universe. There cannot be varying degrees of impossibility. One thing cannot be less impossible than another; to be so, means that it is nearer to being possible. However, it cannot be almost possible without still being…impossible.

Therefore, if we are able to accept the one impossible act (walking on water, resurrection of the dead, etc.), we should be willing to fully accept the other, such as the relationship of God’s decretive will and human free agency/ responsibility. Both are, in human terms, equally impossible and still, in God’s terms, perfectly enacted.

My god, Liberty Be Thy Name

As I reflect upon my life I can say that I have always sensed it, though I have not always recognised nor been cognizant of it. But is has always been there--at July 4th parties, Veterans' Day ceremonies, and most certainly during Memorial Day observances. The 'it' of which I write is the god of the New American Century; the idol of the Red Staters and, unfortunately, of professing Christians as well. The 'it' is Liberty.

We are told that 'Liberty' (which is interchangeable with 'Freedom') is worth the lives of thousands of dead American soldiers in a part of the globe most government school graduates couldn't find on a map if their lives depended on it as well as the 'collateral damage' that you and I would call dead innocent civilians.

Liberty/ Freedom has become our god. We allow ourselves to be pressured into hiding our faith and ignoring--rather, disobeying--God's command to spread his Gospel yet we have absolutely no compunction at all about interjecting and inserting ourselves into another country's business--at the point of a gun--in the name of spreading Liberty.

As if it were not bad enough that folks are combining Christianity with the worship of Liberty, we are increasingly seeing the supplanting and replacing the True Faith with the same! A couple of recent articles make it very clear--we shouldn't be obeying and worshiping God, we should be worshiping and spreading Liberty because, after all, Jesus was a libertarian and wanted 'democracy' to be spread across the world, not his Word!

The world would have us believe that our faith is something not to be 'foisted' upon others. Yet, the new Religion of Liberty/ Freedom must be propagated--whether others want it or not.

Oh, well, let's just dust off Lee Greenwood and pretend that everything is going to be ok.

A Thorn By Any Other Name

Call it what you will but Reginald Dwight (Elton John) DID NOT get married to-day. To be sure, he garnered inumerable headlines and a modicum of pseudo-legitimacy for his faggotry from the post-Christian government of England but, whatever that dog-and-pony-show across the Pond was--it was most certainly NOT a wedding.

Marriage is an institution created, ordained, fostered, and DEFINED by God. No matter how much reprobates and apostates may insist it is a marriage, that no more makes it so than (to borrow from C. S. Lewis) a mad man can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'Darkness' repeatedly on the walls of his cell.

Put the Dim Switch Back!

I live 30 miles outside of town--and I like it that way. My wife, my soon-to-be-born daughter, and I (and the dog--and the goats) live a nice, quiet, secluded, increasingly agrarian life out in the woods. Again, we like it that way.

Another benefit of living so far outside of town in that I have plenty of time during the drives to and from work to wake up in the morning, unwind in the evening, and generally mull things over. All of this (really!) leads me to the most recent thing to get stuck in my craw.

Why did they move the bright lights/ dimmer switch from the floorboard to the steering column? Certainly, the floorboard switch provided a greater level of convenience and ease (I have grown weary of activating my windshield wipers inadvertently), but it greatest attribute was the safety it allowed for while driving.

Many times I have been driving--especially along the back country roads to and from my house--and have been forced into a dance-like sequence of switching my bright lights on and off to avoid blinding oncoming traffic so often the cab of my truck could be confused for a Western Union office. It's just not safe to force me to constantly reach for the steering column in haste to engage and disengage the brights.

I remember the good old days (high school in the late 80's) when I drove my favourite car: a red/ orange ('rorange') 1969 Ford Mustang. Now, that was a fine automobile! I loved the power under the hood, the sleek body design, and how cool I felt behind the wheel. But I would have to say with a high degree of certainty that what I miss most about that ride is the bright lights dimmer switch ... that was on the floor!













Ah, the good old days.

ELEMENTS OF A GOOD PRISON SONG

There was a time in the not-so-distant past when the radio teemed with well-written songs about Life as seen from inside prison walls--when the world's horizons stretched only from one side of a 12 x 12 foot cell to other. Such songs were able to elicit strong feelings which ranged from empathy and pity to a 'Don't do the crime if you can't do the time' point of view. But alas, the days of the prison balladier seem to have passed. To be sure, cacophonous ramblings depicting life on 'defrow' are in no short supply. Yet, there is a great difference (artistically as well as objectively) between the prison songs of yore and what passes for such to-day.

Conspicuously absent from the current offerings is any sense of a recognition or admission of having violated society's mores or the rights of others. The hip-hop filth which passes as the nearest comparable product is little more than a method for ne'er-do-wells to boast of their sociopathic prowess. Coupled with the obvious lack of wordsmithery and imagery and the atrocious teeth-rattling hum which passes for melody, there is very little that even the most impartial observer can find redeeming in the modern counterpart of the classic prison song. There are several crucial elements that may be used in a myriad of combinations and permutations to form the quinticential prison song, which I will discuss below. Granted, not every good prison song contains them in full and many emphasise them in varying degrees (often starkly so). Likewise, this list is not exhaustive; I welcome suggestions and additions.

THE FIRST PERSON NARRATIVE

The most poigniant of prison songs are those in which the central character (the convict) is 'spoken' of in the first person. The song may then be absorbed subconciously by the listener as a confession or, better yet, as an admonition or warning. The listener is manipulated into a personal investment in the song by virtue of a sympathy (in many cases) felt for the wasted life and unfortunate circumstances of the singer. The detachment allowed to take hold through the use of the third person format results in a sense of reading about the event or person in the newspaper or hearing a friend recount a tale heard from a further removed source. The first person narrative allows for a certain degree of intimacy that is missing from the alternative.

THE DEGREE OF THE INFRACTION

In general, the crime committed by the central character should be of a serious nature. Few folks are interested in hearing about a man doing a stretch for failing to pay his taxes or for securities fraud. (Although 'Cool Hand' Luke's crime may be an exception.) Murder and burglary are perennial favourites of the genre, though assault and battery appear not infrequently. The lion's share of good prison songs (and I must again stress good) depict a man either on death row, en route to the gallows (in its various forms), or languishing within the bounds of a life sentence for taking the life of another. Examples include 'Mama Tried' by Merle Haggard: And I turned twenty-one one in prison doing life without parole... -- 'Folsom Prison Blues' by Johnny Cash: I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. -- 'Green, Green Grass of Home' by Tom Jones: I awake and look around me at four grey walls that surround me ... Yes, they'll all come to see me 'neath the shade of that old oak tree as they lay me 'neath the green, green grass of home. -- 'Sing Me Back Home' by Merle Haggard: The warden led a prisoner down the hallway to his doom... -- 'I Ain't Livin' Long Like This' made famous by Waylon Jennings: I'm at the bottom of the jailhouse now...

The above examples are but a fraction of those that prove the rule. Again, the best prison songs depict a man in a hopeless situation--the only way he'll get out of prison is in a box (one way or another). In contrast, songs such as 'Double Trouble' by Lynyrd Skynyrd, while fantastic in their own right, do not possess the angst due to the nature of the crimes committed. In the instance of 'DT,' the fellow involved is doing a thirty-day stretch on the Pea Farm (county jail) for fighting. His assertion that it is 'endless time' notwithstanding, it packs none of the punch of a life sentence or impending capital punishment. The same can be said of 'Wichita Jail' by the Charlie Daniels Band. One can appreciate the burdens of the chain gang--making little 'uns outta big'uns is not a position one generally desires to find himself. However, thirty days is just, well, thirty days. It most certainly is not holding down a cot in C Block for the duration of three concurrent life sentences.

REGRET

Again, the best prison songs evoke a significant amount of sympathy in the listener (or empathy under the 'best' of circumstances). In order to accomplish this admirable task, a certain degree of regret on behalf of the convict must be expressed. (It must be emphasised that regret is not synonymous with remorse; these are often polar opposites.) Expressing an understanding that one would be much better off having made different choices is not the same as a realisation that one has committed a grievous sin against God and feels badly for having violated society's trust or harmed another person. (Feeling horrible for having committed a wrong is not the same as being sorry you got caught.)

Few songs capture this regret like 'Folsom Prison Blues.' Woven among the imagery of a life inside four grey walls and Time Stood Still is the realisation that he (the literary 'he,' as opposed to Cash himself) deserves his fate: I know I had it coming--I know I can't be free. And there you have it, the best of both worlds in twelve words: regret and remorse. Much more unattractive, however, is the man who refuses to admit his misdeeds and, instead, places the blame on the correctional facility in which he finds himself as if it were at fault--the Prisoner As Martyr, as it were. This is brilliantly displayed in Mr Cash's 'San Quentin.' (The live version sends a shudder down the spine as the actual convicts in the audience can be heard shouting in agreement.)

THE UNHEEDED WARNING

Closely related to the above is the admission that the convict did not go unwarned. The regret is emphasised in this aspect to the point of utter frustration at having ignored the advice of others who predicted the (utterly predictable) result of such a lifestyle as that led by the pre-incarcerated convict. A Life Term is an eternity to ponder 'I Told You So.' The favourite vehicle to personify the unheeded warning is, more often than not, Mama. Freudian contrivances aside--and with all apologies to Oedipus--mamas have a tremendous influence on their sons (in a much different but nonetheless valuable way than fathers). For this reason--in addition to the special respect Southern boys have for them--Mama plays a pivitol role in warning the convict to straighten up and fly right--or pay the consequences.

Merle Haggard deserves credit for the quinticential song in this regard: 'Mama Tried.' In fact, the point is made all the more by the fact that the entire song, as opposed to a verse or two, is dedicated to admitting that his mama spent his entire youth attempting to 'steer him right' to no avail. He ignored mama at his own peril, literally. The Hag tells the same story in 'The Fugitive': I raised a lot of cane back in my younger days/ while Mama used to pray my crops would fail. Now I'm a wanted fugitive with just two ways/ outrun the Law or spend my life in jail.

We see the same willful disregard for wisdom in 'Hand Me Down My Walking Cane': Oh, if I'd listened to what Momma said/ Oh, if I'd listened to what Momma said/ If I'd listened to what Momma said, I'd be home in a feather bed. Likewise, in a less emphatic and somewhat passing way, Johnny Cash pays homage to the discarded words of wisdom from Mama: When I was just a baby my mama told me, 'Son, always be a good boy and don't ever play with guns ... we know the rest of the story.

(As an aside, the Mama Warning is not unique to prison songs. The Cox Family's 'I Am Weary, Let Me Rest' featured on the soundtrack of 'O, Brother, Where Art Thou?' also recognises this most prevalent of proverbs: Through the years you always loved me and my life you tried to save. But now I must slumber sweetly in a deep and holy grave.

ART IMITATING LIFE

The best of the prison genre are those that have a grounding (at least in a small degree) in reality. There is something special about a man who has actually spent time in prison singing about the same. It lends a certain legitimacy to the song. For example, a cowboy song sung by a banker from New York hardly has the impact of one by a bullrider from West Texas. This is why Merle Haggard, David Allan Coe, Johnny Rodriguez, et al. are so successful and up to the task--I've been there, man. I know.

HUNG OUT TO DRY

For some unknown reason, it appears that the men in these songs cannot depend on their friends or loved ones in their moment of greatest need. Seemingly without exception, there is no-one available to post bond for them in order to gain their release until (we assume) they are called to stand trial. To wit:

-- 'Way Down Town' by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band with Doc Watson: Way down town, foolin' around, took me to the jail. Oh, me and it's oh, my--ain't no-one to go my bail.

-- 'In the Jailhouse Now' by Soggy Bottom Boys: He got throwed in jail with nobody to go his bail...

-- 'Trudy' by the Charlie Daniels Band: Call up Trudy on the telephone; send her a letter in the mail. Tell her I'm hung up in Dallas--they won't let me out of this jail. (One assumes he wasted his one phone call and failed to alert Trudy to his predicament.)

-- 'Rollin' in My Sweet Baby's Arms' by Buck Owens: Now, where was you last Saturday night while I was a-layin' in jail? Walking the streets with another man--and no-one to go my bail.

-- 'Double Trouble' by Lynyrd Skynyrd: Eleven times I've been busted, eleven times I've been in jail. Some of the times I been there, nobody could go my bail.

-- 'My Last Ol' Dollar' from Ethel Park Richardson's 'American Mountain Songs': Oh Darlin', won't you go my bail? Oh Darlin', won't you go my bail? Won't you go my bail, an' get me out of jail? Oh Darlin', won't you go my bail?

-- 'Willie Warfied': I wrote my father a letter,'Oh, come and go my bail.' He sent me back an answer--he had no land for sale.

-- 'Hand Me Down My Walking Cane': Oh, I got drunk and I landed in jail. Oh, I got drunk and I landed in jail. I got drunk and I landed in jail. Had nobody for to go my bail.

Perhaps worse than having no one available or willing to go one's bail is rotting away whilst no-one is even aware that you are in prison. Such is the case in 'I Wonder If They Ever Think of Me' by our favourite Balladier of the Hoosgow, Merle Haggard. However, there is a caveat: the poor man in that song is a Prisoner of War in North Vietnam, as opposed to having been incarcerated for a breach of the penal code. (Serving time for having resisted the advance of the Red Horde is a far cry from being locked up for having knocked over a liquor store.) Likewise, innocence can add to the drama, as in 'Long, Black Veil.' (Though he is actually guilty of something--adultery.)

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

-- 'When You're Hot, You're Hot' by Jerry Reed. (Don't go throwin' dice with the fellas.)

-- 'A Week in a County Jail' by Tom T. Hall. (Hot baloney sandwiches? Flip the switch, man.)

-- 'Wichita Jail' by the Charlie Daniels Band. (Hot Kansas sun, indeed. Try pouring concrete in Texas.)

-- 'Long-haired Redneck' by David Allan Coe. (Long hair, tattoos, earrings. Yeah, we get it, you're an outlaw.)

-- 'Huntsville' by Merle Haggard. (David Crosby survived a stretch there in the 1980's.)

CONCLUSION

There we have it, the primary ingredients to a good (as opposed to merely successful) prison song. The aspects discussed here are not the last word, nor do the examples given represent all available. I welcome any comments or observations and hope that the readers find it entertaining and thought-provoking if not informative. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time. But if you do: write a good song about it.