A famous author from England was known as the Apostle of common sense. I would earnestly recommend reading anything he wrote! In our most recent times the term common sense has been said by our current president and so I delved into that phrase and it’s origin.
Many dialectic courses use the phrase ‘common sense’ but as a consequence there is always a position in the discourse that does not seem very sensible. The way of discovering truth in any topic was handed down to us from the Greek philosophers and they were pretty wise guys.
This type of truth seeking was very commonly taught in school “back in the days” of education. Redire to the English primary schools and these sorts of things were absolutely a foundation of logical thinking and debate. In a forensic class? Scientific discovery which in Latin thousands of years ago was referred to as ‘Ache’ finding beginnings of all things.
Echoed in the TV series ‘all things great and small’ with James Herriot? Darwin had his day with his dialectics that he believed explained evolutionary theory. This is also taught in schools throughout our country. It is a vary controversial topic, Ache or origin. It delves into a political stance in the hierarchy of our education system and is not taught as a dialectics course.
This is not common sense and is a recent phenomenon of indoctrination in education. Have you had enough large words for a while? Do you take notes when these topics or opinions are presented in this type of dialectic? Lets talk! It’s good to exchange ideas and stances on important things like this.
The writer I was referring to at the beginning was G.K. Chesterton and when told he was not to write his newspaper columns about Religion or politics he responded: “There is nothing else to write about” That was The Illustrated London News, a very famous London newspaper.
As a side note, I have had the same thing happen to me and I found great comfort in this common issue throughout our country. Every discussion, every controversy, is about religion and politics. Religion is about our relationship with God and politics is about our relationship with our neighbors.
As Chesterton again stated: “We are told to love our neighbors and also to love our enemies: probably because usually they are the same people”
A great thank you to Dale Ahlquist and G.K. Chesterton Norm Peterson aka Jack Gator
The beginning of the deer rut was in full bloom and visible to our family. Reaching up to take an hour off the living room clock, I saw four deer on the driveway. It’s only about 25 feet away from the front porch and those deer were in top gear. Two does, two bucks. One of the bucks jumped into the fenced garden and seemed confused when he hit the corner pole. Tumbling back into the Brussels sprouts bed, he leaped up and tried another jump. After that try, he ran back where he came in and performed one of those steeplechase leaps over the fence and into the woods close by. We noticed one of his horns was missing. So it goes.
I was running late in the next morning. It was still dark and the vehicles behind me were lighting up the road, same as I was. Of course, being the leader of a string of cars means you are first in discovering fur covered obstacles in the right of way. I swing my electrical side view mirror glass away from my vision to reduce the glare. It’s nice that their high beams reach miles ahead but it can be deafening optically.
As expected, all the cars a distance behind passed me on the flats. Good, now I can drop down to five under instead of ten over! Remembering from my youth, the two speed signs that had day limit and night limit. Usually ten under for nighttime. Coming up to ‘deer alley’ I saw a vehicle on the opposite shoulder with it’s hazards blinking. About half ways down the hill. Very close to where a few years back an eight thousand dollar deer was encountered by our car. I pulled over to the shoulder, put on my emergency flashers and went across to the other car. I brought my tactical flashlight as well.
The driver of the car met me and filled in the blanks. “Hit a deer, front right tire went flat and I’m trying to get this original equipment toy jack to lift the car.” I held the light and we finally got the plate under the pinch weld. The car began to rise and there was a hopeful lug wrench coming out of the trunk. Custom wheels, it didn’t fit. At least they weren’t theft proof lug nuts but the size was bigger than stock. A sixteenth of an inch bigger than the wrench for stock wheels. A rough guess but after 40 years of wrenching I was confident my guess was correct.
They began to chat about the coming election for governor and other offices. It quickly segued into the state of our country. As the two of us began to share our analysis of the unbelievable destruction of the economy and morals, we agreed to do what we can to counter this disassembly of our democratic republic. The last things we said to one another was about our money. “It’s worth about seventeen cents on the dollar since a few decades ago, but the money we have has not changed in one way. Yet. Our wallets and pockets all contain the reassuring statement, ‘In God we Trust’ They both agreed this was a very good idea in these times! Faith and Trust in God.
The stranded motorist had a friend that lived close by and he was contacting him on my cell phone as I got ready to leave. Knowing about the lug nut socket and wrench to turn it, the man had heard from his friend it was handled and the tools would soon be there.
Saying thanks to one another and I then turned on my flashlight feature again, it flashed bright and I waved it to the vehicles approaching. No one had stopped when myself and the stranded motorist were at work, and not one even slowed. The oncoming cars, seeing both hazards on and my flashing light swinging, slowed down. I crossed safely and headed off to my late appointment with my son at the coffee shop, still miles away.
I did not speed but kept the limit. I looked behind me on a long hill descent into Saint Croix Falls and the vehicles behind were perfectly, safely spaced. It resembled a string of pearls going down the road.
Very surprised, I pulled up to the coffee shop right on time, a little ahead of my son!
I was only one minute off rendezvous time. The shop had just opened up. It didn’t compute as I had spent at least ten minutes with the stranded man. Compression of time. It has happened at various times and in different ways throughout my life. It made interesting conversation after the Bible study that my son, Bjorn and I brought our coffees and Bibles to.
I was reading an introduction to a nice book that was a gift and came across that word, Lectio Devina. [to practice what you read and understand]. Wisdom and truth given by Christ not just for realizing truth, given as life paths to be more like Him.
Just the other day, I was working on putting new handles on a wheel barrow. Quite a few carriage bolts and nuts involved in the process. It was going pretty well, I managed to put them all in order and even get some new ones to replace the rusted ones. I put the handles on after a lengthily process of removing the old ones. Putting needle nose vice grips on the old rusty bolts and keeping them from spinning the rusty carriage bolt tops. The barrow itself is rather rusty and the holes weak. It went pretty good nonetheless.
Finally, putting the new wooden handles in place, I found the holes drilled in them did not correspond with the old handles! The hardware person assured me that all those handles were the same for every application. They weren’t. I had to drill out two of them that were off by 20mm. . Finding the drill bit in my somewhat disorganized tool drawer by size and then carefully marking the place to drill with a center punch, I managed to make the correct holes.
The process started over again the this time, it worked until it became time to mount the wheel. Those holes did not work and the mounting is tricky to start with. The mounts have to swivel a little to accommodate the angles and those holes were off as well. I started to loose patience and pulled up the wheel, dropping the shims and the sliding mounts all at once onto the floor and preceded to start throwing things around. Tools and parts. Julie was there by then and was ‘disappointed’ in my behavior. I Felt justified in my frustration and she observed, I was not acting as I have written about, talked about, even advised on this behavior problem.
We were both upset, to put it mildly, and after lying on the grass outside the shop, I began the process of first beating myself up about my behavior and then had enough sense to go out to my spot in the middle of our garden and speak to our Lord about this pattern of frustration. Gently He reminded me to put into my life the things that I quote from Scripture to others. It was humbling and began a healing in me. The next morning I began reading a recent book that was a gift and found the perfect instructions to follow. Lectio Devina. [Practice what you read and preach].
Old words from Latin that are relevant right here, right now. There are many of us that believe wisdom is for us to speak and write about and be hot shot scholars that know many things about scripture.
Behaviors, attitudes and good things our Lord tells us about every day. Love your neighbors, be generous, be kind and always listen to that still, small voice in our spirit. I have to die to my own excuses, perceived righteous behaviors and judgment of others. The hardest one for me seems to be my judgment of myself that is the wrong way to go about changing my behavior.
Sound familiar? Take this to heart as I have revealed a weakness of my own. Let this truth go deep and stir up our minds and all our behavior. Understanding that all of us need to realize that faith means more than belief. I can understand how to use tools, but the one tool I am still learning to use better is the spirit of our Lord.
There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus. He is the judge of all things, but he does not condemn. After all, the thief on the cross simply said, “remember me when you come into your Kingdom” Jesus knew what the man said. I look ahead to meeting that man as well. He was at his last breath but knew the Lord and forgiveness for his life and sins.
How it applies to me? I have more time before my last breath.
With thanks to Matt Meher composer, for his singing truth and beauty recordings while I write
The flash and flare in the east and it is time. Move away from the comfort and deep sleep, awaken to dawn. Shut of the alarm clock, rise to the circadian rhythm of my body. Grasp my robe from the hanger on the back of our bedroom door. Close the bathroom door and glance at my tousled hair. A small pleasure in the new toilet seat that lowers itself slowly and doesn’t bang.
There are duties and places to be and now, it’s easier to find things because there is light beginning to arrive from the east. There is a small Brownian movement from the dust and I turn on the coffee maker. Go back in the parlor and open the side draft, rake the coals and put on a few pieces of wood.
I Find the good bread and drop two slices in with the timer set to max. The good bread is heavy. I ponder finding the cash for that upgrade on my cell phone already as I check the wood stove. Can we afford it? After all, everyone in the family has a new phone. Mine is old and I need to be current. It is the state of made things, they are old by the date they are put for sale. New and improved. No ‘good till’ or expired dates on your cell phone, but now I can’t find a screen guard to replace the cracked one. “You have to get a new one, yours is several years old. How much? Only 35 bucks a month forever.
It’s better with the shredded wheat on the shelf, we all know it’s good for a few years on our shelf. Silly thoughts along with dream remnants that linger until they too, pass into the storage area in my mind that is never too full and unavailable now and then.
There is a shuffle and purpose at hand to indeed waken fully and the hot caffeine warms my old ceramic cup. Carefully, set it down besides the fresh toast and open up a book next to the vitamins and various pills. The accouterments of morning rituals. The book now at hand is a collection of short stories that take slow reading to understand. Sarte, Sallinger and the rabbit eared current choice is Tolstoy’s ‘The death of Ivan Illych’
Nothing to it. Toast and coffee and a little orange juice to sluice down a hearty meal of existential writing and with some of the greatest short stories ever written. It’s still early and my son is stirring a bit. I come to the part of the story when Ivan knows he is dying and no one will be honest with him about how they feel about it and him. Only a peasant boy tells him the truth.
A quote from la Rochefoucauld is remembered: “One can neither stare long at the sun nor at death” During the war the thought was, it will come quickly It did to that shipmate on the horizon. It was close but I am OK. Next stop, Palma De Mallorca. Great liberty! My acquaintances ship has been sunk over the horizon. Tough luck. Time to celebrate after freedom from with the liberty boat and have a few drinks in his memory.
We go on, inwardly feeling we will live forever and poor old Ivan, it must have been his diet or that he just wouldn’t go to gymnasium as they advised him so many times. After all, his whist game was more important to him. There was nothing to be done. and here I am hundreds of years later, dressed for a church funeral service. I am Still in my book and almost awake.
A funeral then to go to. The fact that we are soon to be in that silken and narrow box does not cross our conscience. Even when the preacher tells us we are off the hook by death of Jesus’ sacrifice, we do not comprehend the sacrifice, it’s not totally understood. Tithe well and we might walk as Enoch did and not have to suffer as Ivan illych did. That’s it! The second coming and it will all work out! Don’t worry, be happy.
Death is defeated knowledge lingers and we are all good to go. Mourning seems to have passed us by. Ask not who the bell tolls for, it’s you. Old Ivan, it was his time to go. The rest of our family is up and dressed and we drive a dozen miles to the church for a funeral for a neighbors son.
Is there lunch after this funeral? Should be. It’s good here at the church of endless life. Maybe if I get in line before every one else does! I do not want to miss that apple pie I saw as I walked by the kitchen!
No one knows the hour of our death. People of faith in Jesus know what His resurrection means for us. Still, I like it here and I know my loved ones will have Shiva at the house. I do not like to think about the weeping, just as I wept as the coffin wheeled by me and I reached from my seat and gently prayed as the polished wood slid beneath my extended fingers. A young boy taken from us in tragedy.
Live well, love well and spend a lot of time speaking and listening to our creator that knew us when we were yet to be born. “why me?” “why am I here and what am I to do? I ask of Him. He answers gently. “I knew you would know the joy and sorrows of life and I Like how you write and talk about it and Me. That seems pretty good.
It was a good friendship. An E4 and an O6. That’s a Petty Officer third class and a Captain. We were also neighbors. Myself and Pastor Russ. Neighbors that met riding bicycles on passable blacktop roads. Russ lived about a mile and a half away from me and once in a while, we would go for a ‘spin’. There was another huge difference between us as Russ was a category 2 racer and I just liked to ride. Cat 2 is pretty professional and impressive. He was a very good rider to be with. I learned a lot.
One remarkable day, Russ was riding alone and met a very pretty and friendly bicycle rider. She was riding nearby and as Russ was married to Debra and a pastor, he was safe to ride with.
Not long afterwards, Russ mentioned to me about this woman. “She runs a lakeside camp nearby, it’s called Whispering Pines. Pretty good cyclist too!” Myself as a lonely bachelor, was intrigued. I knew where the camp was and began thinking about Russ’s new friend. Just by coincidence a real woman cyclist that lived nearby and with a job! Obviously fit and friendly. Russ said she was pretty too. I considered calling the camp. Why not?
Meanwhile, that cyclist, Julie, was out in Washington state at a conference. She was at a local bar near the Canadian border and the bartender, Margaret, was gregarious and asked Julie where she was from. She told her where the she was from and the bartender, casually wiping down the bar said, “where in Trade Lake do you live?” “What! No one knows that dinky little township!” Margaret replied, “My grandparents lived in Trade Lake” They had a few things to talk about then.
Margaret, incredibly enough, was an old friend of mine and gave Julie my phone number. Julie put it in her wallet and when she returned to Wisconsin and the camp, tossed that piece of paper into a drawer in her office. A Junk drawer holding device to eventually have some of it’s contents put into a round holding device standing on the floor nearby.
On a particularly perfect day for cycling, I decided to call the camp and asked for the director. I gave her my name and mentioned my friend Russ. I also told her that Russ and I rode a lot together and asked if Julie would like to ride sometime. “It’s that Guy! The friend of that bartender way out west!” Julie consulted the head cook, Cora who was her trusted friend if it would be OK to go ride with me. “why not? Sounds safe, a pastors friend” she replied
So Julie told me OK, and being mostly clueless but aware that neutral territory was not at her place nor mine, I suggested we ride our bicycles towards one another on county road M and we meet that way. I saw Julie coming towards me, uphill and riding strong. I waited for her, watching her technique. Pretty good climber.
We did a short 50 mile ride and I asked her out to eat afterwards. Little Mexico, a great local restaurant with homemade guacamole and chips, they had good Mexican beer too. Cora said: “why not?” And so we went. This time I drove my car, a Volvo wagon with a bike rack on the roof of course.
That wise cook had some chocolate cake for our dessert when we returned. After many enjoyable rides later, some of them with pastor Russ, it began to be clear that this whole thing was a coincidence of extraordinary circumstances.
Sometime later when my old friend, Margaret, the bartender, got in touch, I told her the delightful bicycle romance story and then she added one more fact. The exact place on County road M where Julie and I met, was right at the driveway where Margaret’s Grandparent’s had lived. As this story has been told many times, I always say; “It was a miracle, God’s handiwork”.
Julie continued managing the camp until another director was chosen for the job. She moved in to my farm and we played house for a time. We also began working at 7 pines lodge nearby in Lewis. Fresh caught brook trout and fried carrots was the main menu. It was also the only thing on the menu.
The manager was a good fly fisherman and had us, the waiters, put on mystery dinners. All the guests became suspects in the mystery murder and myself and Julie played the hosts of the hotel where the murder was. The manager did not take part in the play as he was busy in the kitchen.
Out of the blue at home, Julie and I proposed and it seemed to make a lot of sense to us. ‘Shacking up’ later on when I became baptized, we realized living in sin was also a description. It seemed good and right. I did get the wedding ring made from my Grandmothers ring. Proposing was an equal opportunity proposition. It worked for us. Still does. More perfect timing. We were married at 7 pines lodge and the wedding was a fabulous affair. The square dance band that I played in (Duck for the Oyster} came to help with the music as well as Bill Hinkley and Judy Larson and Mary Dushane from the Powder milk Biscuit Band. Myself and three fiddlers stood in a circle around my beautiful bride and we played a Swedish waltz, Helsa Hem Dar Hemma.
A Real log lodge with a stream house that straddled the trout stream, that was where we spent our wedding night. The running water made bathroom breaks occur often. It was glorious and one of those memories that is permanently set within us. The dance was at the West Denmark church hall and we still have a photograph of Julie’s dad strutting down the middle of the Virginia Reel dance. More food and leftover wedding cake.
My mom drove up in her Buick convertible to attend our wedding. She almost left in the beginning of the ceremony saying that her dog needed her at home. She stayed with some gentle urging from a good friend of ours. It was obvious that something was going on with mom. Dementia. Her dad had the same issue and died not long afterwards of the onset. Mom was still living in her third home in Bryn Mawr Minneapolis.
After a few years went by and our two children were growing and our farmhouse was rebuilt to double it’s original size. (right before Bjorn, their first born arrived) My Mom agreed to help finance the huge mound system that was needed for the ‘upgrade’ to our home. Bedrooms for the kids after all.
My mother was fading and I drove down at least every week to help her out. Managing the bills and looking after things. Not too long afterwards, about a year, we moved Mom up to our area into a nursing home. Julie had an old pastor friend, Barry, agree to come up to talk to my Mom. however, she died that night and he came up anyway and spent hours with me at the kitchen table. “Mere Christianity” was referred to a lot and I brought up other religions, Buddhism, Islam and my early family attendance at a Christian Science church in Minneapolis. “What about you? What do you think about all this, we are talking about you” It was a very important Question. This was serious and I had a lot think about. Barry slid the C.S. Lewis book across the table and it made sense the more I read it. Still do.
Barry’s church, a Congregational one, agreed to do mom’s funeral with a meal and even light a candle every Sunday for a week or two. No charge. Character in a great man of faith. We began attending as we both were becoming closer to being Christians. Julie already was one, I was still wary.
Soon thereafter, I had a life changing experience at Russ’ church (Russ was in the Navy as a chaplain then and there was a new pastor) . A Christmas cantata was offered and I reluctantly said I would go. Of course, Bjorn and Soren, our sons, were in Jammies, and went up on the choirs risers just before the concert! Great embarrassment for us as we were not well known even though the church was only a mile and a half away from our home. Zion Lutheran.
The Holy spirit overcame me as the choir was singing ‘Mary did you know’. A man in the choir began reciting the words of the song. All I saw was his face and those words changed my Life. Forever. “It’s all true! He is creator of all things! Somebody had to do it! Random evolution never made sense to me.
Pastor Barry said Christ loves me! I still believe the Holy Spirit was running the spotlight up in the balcony so the man reciting had the light directly on him and the angle of the light reflected right to me. It was the major point in my life. The church is still there and once in a while we go to a smorgasbord there. That experience was so overwhelming that attending would not work. The memory is too strong. I stopped once and told the new pastor about these things and he showed me the sanctuary where it happened. It seemed to encourage him. He has the same last name as ours, Peterson. Small world indeed.
Our marriage continues to grow as Julie was already a believer in Jesus. It was good news to her as well. Many times that story still brings tears to me. You know the feeling. Words began to fall short and it’s hard to speak them. That song, obviously, is my favorite and I weep and worship when it is sung.
Our whole family began attending Pastor Barry’s church near Amery, but with the two boys, it was hard to go 80 miles round trip every Sunday. There was a ministry too even further away at Lake Elmo, it was an automotive repair ministry (God’s grease monkeys) and I continued to be a volunteer there. Our Volvo was filled with food while I was working. I was a foreign car shop owner at that time and I was pretty useful. It was another blessing that continues on in various ways. Every church gathering we attend has miracles when we look. He is pouring His spirit out on us. You too.
Later, at a sweet corn feed at a local church, we met Pastor Roger Inoway and the relation with Grace Baptist, a church association for us began. It was only ten miles away in Grantsburg, Wisconsin.
Our family began attending that church and eventually we started a successful food ministry there. The monthly event was named Feed My Sheep. It was coupled with an automotive repair ministry, Grace Garage. The food ministry was a bright spot for us as we got to minister and pray for the people waiting in an adjacent room. They were waiting to be called to get in line for the food distribution. People still comment to Julie and I about those prayers and some healing that occurred. The church made me a deacon in the process too.
News came that the camp, Whispering Pines, was in need of a temporary manager while it was up for sale. Julie and I stepped into that position and soon after, two pastors showed up on motorcycles at the camp. They expressed interest in buying it! Perfect. Keep the camp Christian owned and run. A good vision for us for certain. We got baptized at Whispering pines soon afterwards. Pastor Barry had never performed a baptism and so dunked us three times. “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” and I saw him above me in the clear lake water. I asked him what he saw as he looked at me. “A dead man” he perfectly replied.
There was a quick transition to those new motorcycling pastors church with the blessing of the Grantsburg leadership. Back south of Highway 8 again! Our family fit in well and eventually became the worship team there. We were licensed as Pastors but weren’t installed. When the two Pastors they were hoping would buy the camp didn’t buy it we left. The camp was sold to a real estate developer and after a neighborhood fight about loosing the beautiful Methodist camp to a developer, it was developed into high end lake homes (½ mile of lake shore went with the camp) It was time to find a church closer to home and after dreaming together about their next move, both of us got the same named local pastor.
That church seemed appropriate and it was only a few miles away. You have noticed that a lot of what is called ‘Church Hopping’ occurred for us. It wasn’t that at all. It was Church involvement and being led by the Spirit. About five years at each house of worship was average. All of it extraordinary and good.
It’s a hard life at times and our whole family has had many challenges from both of our pasts. We are still together and praising the Lord and his way of loving them. Our Lord does not have a plan. He is plan. Now we listen to Him and we follow His leading. The Lord speaks quietly and we are getting better at listening.
We continued singing and playing songs to Him and about Him, writing a few of those songs as well. It’s better than my bar band, and I am not even obligated to wear a cowboy hat. We did move to another church again to a refurbished bar that I played with the country western band! It was a new life about 30 miles away. I occasionally played Viola and the Mandolin there. South of highway 8 again. As I write this we have again been called to another gathering, Eagle Brook in Minnesota. I am working with Bjorn who is the media director and he asked me to become his AD (assistant director) It’s a long drive but he drives most of the way after I drive to his place about 28 miles south. I am also being trained as a camera operator.
We do wear our faith on our sleeves. Just like in my Navy days in a way. This story catches attention to unbelievers. It still catches our attention around May 23rd as well. our anniversary day.
Who can foretell the leading of the Lord? Jesus guides as he provides and that is challenging and exciting.
I was at an ongoing book sale that a local library has in one of their meeting rooms. The books are arrayed with spines up and a double row so you can see all the titles. Only a dollar apiece and they are in excellent condition.
I looked and muttered authors and titles to myself as I fingered my way down the front row. Most, if not all were novels. The impression I instantly got was they had all been read by a handful of devotees to the genre and were not getting checked out anymore.
I was startled when one of the back row books had a title of Spiritual Literacy. Quite a change from Danielle Steele’s work. Nice bindery and excellent glossy cover that book had. It seemed it was not checked out much as it wound up in the ‘cut out bin’ too. I quickly grabbed it up and flipped a page or two and what I read was enough to make the dollar price insignificant. Yard sale gem or a find at the second hand stores.
The Quote I randomly turned to was indeed on spiritual awareness and in a most direct and refreshing statement of truth. The statement tendered the astonishing way contact with the spirit of all life occurs and how we expect it to. A full range of eastern sages to modern thought was summed up. We think of a spiritual department of our life. Activity at the penthouse of our minds. Top floor.
If you are feeling a need for such things, get going and punch that 43rd floor button and get ready to pray, meditate, chant, focus on something to get in touch with the real deal of life.
Hence the steeple chase for western minds that a steepled building is the place where these things are talked about and experienced. I do look for the pointed buildings as I drive and wonder what they mean, why are they pervasive and how do you build and keep one?
Those steepled buildings are an excellent place to taste the sacred and also a good place to trigger the hunger for more. It’s the whole idea to grow and mature in our faith.
That one reference I randomly turned to goes on to state we can experience the sacred in everyday life. One simple statement startled me: “I come alive when I hear or play music” or “I come to life when I am in the garden, working with my hands” A.
Those are the areas when we are spiritual. To be vital, awake and aware. I did this today when I was swimming my laps. I started looking through the water as I swam and began to pray for the other swimmers I saw and often knew. Strokes and styles and finishing pushes. I have a really good instructor that almost won gold in a relay race. The only reason she didn’t was that a teammate jumped into the water at the triumphant finish and the whole team was disqualified.
She is my wife and I firmly believe the win. She taught me things and I teach them to fellow swimmers when they are receptive to small changes.
I like to do that and it makes me feel alive. It is connection with spiritual activity. I did not realize that until I saw the wisdom in that incredible book.
Another example: A small group of people get together regularly in a home or in a church and discuss and answer one question. They go deep and share their lives stories.
Spirit led and gifts of spirit. Volunteer work is as rewarding to the people served as the servers are. I was not aware of why I felt fulfilled working on weekends in a large church gathering, helping in media production. Visual and sound. I found people approachable and eager to share their lives with me. If I was asking questions of them instead of banging on about myself it usually ended in mutual prayer. There was connection and an uplifting spirit.
It’s easier if you allow the spirit to move within and give you guidance for the hungry and open hearts. It’s very enjoyable and often leads to continuing growth and friendships. Growth in us and them.
Recently I have been mourning the deaths of so many close friends and immediate family. Why me? Now things have changed and I am seeing the Spirit moving around me, with me and in me. Church is great and we have heard that we are the Church.
As Thomas Aquinus reminds us: “ Diversity is the perfection of the Universe” 13th Century Jack Gator Scribe
A. Brother David Steindl the music of silence
With many thanks to the Grantsburg Library andThomas Moore, and Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat
It is an essential line in a song our worship group sang. It refers to the essential way that our Lord deals with his will and plan for us. We do not fully understand this. Sometimes not at all.
Our kind and essential pastoral leaders at the time, did not want this line sung. They believed in our leadership in music and even licensed us as pastors. But, they did not understand the basic truth behind the taking away part. The understanding I have is that He gives us the choice. We can embrace a bad choice which he allows as free will or we can do the opposite.
There is always a road sign on that highway we walk upon. This way to join the summer tire club in the midst of a snowstorm is a complex choice. A parable of sorts for me. (we all enjoy parables)
Approximately a half century ago I was given those plain words at a pivotal point in my life. I have told this story many times. I would not be living here with a family and delightful small farm if I had chosen death. “life or death, choose now” A direct quote from Deuteronomy that was audibly given to me. I am still stunned by that grace I was given. Obviously what I chose.
We are all of us given that choice to choose a death or life in many ways every day. Curse or bless. People are in my way. Subtle but the reward of peace in choosing to smile and find a way to give way is pretty good. Simple things but obvious to others at times. Very obvious to me.
I love the smiles and relaxed encounters that occur now and then.
There are so many frowns that remind me to smile at pray. He gives me the joy and the prayer. He can take that away if I choose to frown too. The simple phrase of giving and taking away is a lot more complex than at first thought. He gave so many Biblical people those choices and many times there was a giving and blessing from a good choice. I have read it 58 times so far in my Bible of those things.
It’s very hard sometimes to see that choice. He has allowed so many of my best friends to die. We all die but when you live a long time they are taken away. Was it a choice for them to die?
We don’t know any of that. It involves eternity and that is beyond my comprehension. It’s an entertainment at times to be in a serious discussion with others to deal with eternity. It usually ends with laughter at ourselves and joy at the same time. It’s really pretty good we have a choice to embrace our humanity and blessings to not try to be God and know those things. We grieve and that is necessary.
One man I know chose both life and death, just for me and you. It resulted in eternal joy for all men.
As C.S. Lewis wrote: “God has an eternity to spend with a pilot in a Corsair in WWII going down in flames.” Just the two of them. Do you understand that? I don’t but I love to read my favorite author speculate and challenge my intellect. I set that thought aside most days and go back to it sometimes just for reassurance. I thank God he has given me that man’s wisdom to read and enjoy. I Love it, Life, it’s pretty good. Jack Gator
Everyone, I mean everyone had to learn the basics when we were children. It’s obvious even to an old man like me. Riding a bicycle for example. Did anyone climb on to a 10 speed racing bike and right away began strongly climbing hills with it? Of course not. So how did we get to that point of an understanding and skill to pull it off (starting with a smaller bike with training wheels of course) There had to be a teacher, an adult with knowledge and strength coaching, encouraging and helping us do so.
Another example: Writing and understanding language that is written. No one, not even Einstein, can do so right out of the gate of childhood. First huge flash cards, gentle words and skill as a teacher-parent to help us. The the writing part (my handwriting can use some improvement) but as sloppy and ill formed the letters are, imitating the adults writing words to teach us. Maybe even holding our child’s hand to help. It works, it’s the way things are done for every child ever born.
As adults, we still need this training. Some call it school or primary, secondary, college an upward learning which still needs an adult with knowledge and skill to ‘hold our hands’ to continue learning. As an example: I can now play stringed instruments, my son plays a full drum kit. He learned from movies and instruction from books and a few other drummers. Not me perse. A side note; the piano is considered a percussion instrument! How did I and they learn how to do this? Another Adult who knows these things. In my case, even bowing the violin while I attempted to finger the notes. Such off key and bumbled sounds caused my kind friend an excellent fiddle player, Bill Hinkley, to wince but so did my learning bicycle riding cause some laughter and kind advice. At least I did not fall off the violin.
‘So easy when you know how’, is said. These are simple thoughts that I am just reminding us of reality, so obvious, we do not even have it cross our minds. Even potty training. Teaching is a skill not all of us have but potty training is a skill that all parents realize they must do. It’s one of the first classes along with eating spinach.
When we are all grown up adults (except me who took longer to want to grow up), we seek a purpose and a reason we are alive. It’s the big question which opinions abound to answer. Often as we are getting older, we get serious.
Some of us do not want a complex answer. We look to an older adult that has some answers. Why are we here? How are we here? There even is a book which starts with those very words! Here is the the name of that book which many dismiss as ludicrous. The Bible.
As I have stated before: It is a book that is written by adults and if you don’t want to read it, please don’t dismiss or talk poorly about it. Wait until you become an adult and can think clearly. Read it, ask questions and understand what it says. It’s the only clear and rational explanation for why we are here.
There are also many other books which address the reason we are here and what to do about it and I have read a few of them. Many of them say we are here because of a random event that occurred long ago and we are also a result of randomness.
These too are books made by and for adults to read. Most of them are made up stories that are fun to read. Akin most really intriguing fiction that engages our imagination. All of those fiction books, tell us there is no purpose to life except to enjoy it and die. What’s the point of that? We hunger for meaning to our lives, not oblivion. I asked a friend that I swim with what he thought happens when he dies and he replied, “worm food” When he gets older, I can speak to him again about hope and faith. I pray this will occur. God knows these things.
The Bible tells us our God of all, created us just to give us the choice of loving Him or not. After all, Love can’t exist without a choice to love. Why do you think there is the Father and the Son? Both God and both in love. We question the Bible, some dismiss it, some read and understand it. It is a book that shows us why we are here, and how we got here.
At first reading it can be challenging. That’s the best part! You will be intrigued and read it over and over again. You can start anywhere in it. A good place to start is the book of John. It’s in the New Testament in the last half. This book tells us the real meaning of life and why we are living. It is an older book,written by many authors, and they all have the same subject, and the same Hero.
Darwin and Dawkins and other writers and philosophers, desperately write fiction to assuage their fear of there actually being a God that knows more and than they do. Most intelligent people do not believe a big firecracker from nowhere created us. None of them say where that fireworks came from. It’s God that created us to love Him and one another.
No one knows where God came from, ask Him when you see Him. It’s easy to say that, Its the hardest and most fascinating thing I have ever tried to understand, and realize what I am to do about it.
When that love overcomes us, It’s pretty good. Jack Gator, scribe
1. Thanks to Gregory Koukl for his writing to help me understand a few things.
Some years ago, before the 16th century, our world, and everyone who lived on it believed that our planet was the center of the Universe. Sometimes referred to as the Ptolemaic theory.
An easy thought to digest for mankind up until that time in the late 1500’s when it was proven it wasn’t by Copernicus. He was a genius as a doctor of law, physics master and also a Canon in the church in Poland. Also a master of mathematics by the way.
He proved with calculations that we were a heliocentric system that revolved around the sun. It seemed reasonable with all scripture pointing to our wondrous place in the eye of God.
He made us, He blesses us and is for us not against us. This it truth. We are not the center of the Universe, He is.
Then why was it so easy to miscalculate the orbits of our planets and our moon when we have always been gifted with intelligence and wondrous minds, eager to explore and find new things and even give names to the new things? It is written we named all the animals further back at the beginning of all things. Sounds reasonable. How can you tell a story to your wife about some friendly furry thing without naming it?
So we settled in to this world and almost instantly decided it was a philosopher Descartes moment to declare, “I think, there fore I Am”. No confusion there, I want to be just like God so I Am. No longer confused about anything because I know truth and it is centered around me.
I am tempted still to have those thoughts in a way. I am the most important person around and so, it’s all about me. I don’t expect everyone to acquiesce to me, but it wouldn’t be out of place. Isn’t that a core belief until we realize it isn’t the truth? A baby knows these things about being the absolute center of the world. We grow out of it with a few tears in our wake. Some of us regress back to childhood and becoming egocentric and selfish are the result.
The truth is, in our neighborhood here in our small solar system, we all revolve around the Son and He is glorious and indeed gives us life and light. We have been given all things and the little we can even see about physical orbits, there is an impossible explosion of light, heat and the source of growth itself visible. The Revolutionibos Orbium Colestium or the Revelation of the Celestial Spheres from Copernicus. He was fearful of blasphemy charges when his discovery was made known. Fearful for his life. 1.
I have dreams and visions of the rest of our ‘known’ universe and since I was born here, reared here and grew up here I know absolutely nothing about things millions of light years beyond the beyond. Someday after the usual right of passage we all go through, I will know about these things.
Numbers that fascinated Copernicus and now me that are incomprehensible. There are a billion seconds between us and when Christ walked with the Apostles! A billion minutes between us and creation has been calculated. That one is up for debate, but it is probably pretty close.
There is even confusion about XX and XY in our times and how to define life itself. I think that has been pretty well figured out for quite a long time. Confusion resulting in separation between God and government on these things. It’s a very non brave new world indeed if we don’t have the courage to stand for truth. I shave in front of a mirror and it still shows the front of my face. “How many fingers Mr Smith do you see?” “six”
At the very least, I am not confused about the center of our universe that has the Son there.
Again, as a friend wrote and sang: “I’ve never seen a Son like this before” 2.
1. famous scientists. Org 2. Jon Thurlow Thanks to Richard J. Foster for research archives
Jack gators grace notes 