faith

The World is confused and We Don’t have to Be

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

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

Bullfighter

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

A saying I attribute to Sitting Bull. He spoke of the two wolves inside of us as well. I wondered about this wisdom this morning and ran across more wisdom from Michelle O’Rourke. The little bulls are the battle we have with the little deaths we all must experience in our lives.

The loss’ of physical strength or stability in using what I have left. The bull of my early times swinging spike malls and 16 pound sledge hammers. I agonize over that when I should just join that death with me being the matador and the bull, joined with that blade.

We all have them, those little bulls we embrace. The world inside that speaks failure and personal weakness or loss as the source. To rise up from the sand and brandish the blade and put that snorting thought to death. There are also the worlds many wolves that linger, just beyond the glow of our inner campfire. Eyes lit and eager to pounce upon our sense of worth and trample the fire.

That indeed is the leader of the wolf pack, sense of worth destroyer. I think I am worthless because of changes that come to us all. Physical strength, provision fears. What will become of me when those around me see this?

We indeed do change as we approach death. In old age or in disease or accident. All of us.

My favorite quote from Woody Allen: “I am not afraid of death, I just don’t want to be there when it happens” Why do I cling so hard to my little bulls when I know they must die with me as everyone knows. Playing games within that Jesus will return and I will just be caught up with Him. Maybe I am akin to Enoch and will just ‘leave’ (after a long life) or Elijah who ascends in a flamed out custom chariot with really fancy custom wheels.

Better to listen to our God with his Mighty hand and outstretched arm that delivers time after time and tells me how much He loves me and will never leave me. Loves me the way only He does.

Many times He has shown me my true worth. Small things that are even bigger than the wolves that whisper and howl. He says, “Go here and talk to someone I will show to you” A purpose and all I have got within me. The reason I have had things happen that I can’t explain as excellent and good. My life unfolding with a mystery of loss and gain. Not embracing my mind and the abilities that I have been given as my very own brilliance and creation.

Indeed, the blade must go deep and true to put to death all those thoughts of self importance.

Listen to the creator of all things brilliant. He will give you all the encouragement and worth you ever have needed. He will turn your losses, your grief, and sadness into joy as you dance in the light of His light. Sit at His campfire and the wolfs of the world will not dare approach. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Silo

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

On my way down the local 2 lane, I started counting barns and old farms. A way to stay alert besides scanning for deer with my fog lights on for extra vision on the shoulder. I had already noticed most barns had all equipment of a dairy operation, but no lights on for early morning milking, no bulk trucks and a silo cuddled up to the barn. The blue Harvestore silos looked fresh and functional. Most of the rest of them had no caps often the barns were at their service life end.

I remember the past time when I visited a neighbors dairy farm and was asked to shovel silage to the cows. It was either that or start hooking up the Delaval milkers. Some of the farmers showed me how to hand milk. “Just hold her up higher with your closed hand and squeeze gently from the top down.” Splash splash into the stainless bucket. Wow.

Mostly, when I shoveled the silage from the convenient opening in the barn, I liked the smell of it. Almost tasty like a good granola smelled. Rich and nutritious and sweet. I asked a few questions about the ease of loading the wheel barrow in the barn and how silage was made and how did it come out of the opening in the wall. Silos, snugged up to the barn and filled with crops grown during the summers. I didn’t taste the silage.

I saw the cycle of dairy farming that made sense. Some of them even made cheese. The milk house vat was scooped for breakfast coffee or baking. It was good and special to me. Daylight was breaking and after we finished and let the cows out to pasture, it was time for that coffee and pancakes. I felt like I was experiencing farming and did not stick around for the planting, tilling, praying for rain and the harvesting.

Hard work, many hours of it and a connection to the land that was comforting and astonishing for a city transplant. I respected my neighbor and understood his life.

I was a railroad track worker and knew hard work but I was working for someone else for wages and there were only wooden ties, spikes, fish plates and ballast to go around for 8 or 10 hours. A city job with commuting in my old 41 Ford. I miss it in some ways, mostly the wing windows when it was summer. I am sure air conditioning was in the works for cars but expensive as a choice. I was used to sweat and my old farm house had good screen windows too.

Now, fifty years later, I look at that old dairy farm as I drive by and the silo is empty, there are no cows getting muddy at the pond and the house chimney has a little pipe sticking out of it for the propane furnace. There are no lights visible in the small barn windows either.

A gigantic green tractor with all the implements scattered around is warming up and getting ready for work. Field work. There are gravity corn boxes and big corn cribs but no bulk trucks backed up to the barn.

Hundreds of acres of corn and soybean fields surround the old farm and all that vegetation gets trucked to a buyer nearby, usually called a dairy. No cows there either, just huge corn cribs and drive through scales for the trucks filled with glowing kernels of corn.

I feel the world has changed and it isn’t neighbors farming. They are cropping for money and not getting much pay for their labor after buying more land and very expensive equipment. A lot of older people I chat with notice this change in rural life too.

Everyone in the township works hard and some of them move south after they feel their work is done. Good beer and restaurant food and relaxation comes with the cost of leisure. Cruise boats are not Glastron fishing boats at the local lake. Fast food and leisure engenders visits to the clothing big box stores. The patio parties and ocean views do not have neighborhood charm. The good old days are replaced by the sirens call from the Odyssey of Homer.

It’s pretty good, Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

Story Teller

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It’s our entire existence, a magnificent story that only you can experience and only you can tell well. First person. Truth heard or read. Autobiographical and, if written well and told with skill, captivating. We enter in and become one, fascinated with the passion that reflects all life.

We are the story, everyone is. Nothing has changed since creation. Danger and romance. Power and loss. Intrigue and betrayal. Movies and books abound for us and most of them are stories. Technical and how-to instructions can be stories of sorts too. I draw the line at the periodic table books. Analysis is wonderful if you want the study to understand but it is not the genre of human interest stories.

A good story teller can capture you and hold your attention. I re-read books like that, I watch revelatory movies over and over. Music tells stories in several engaging dimensions.

Audiophiles have vinyl records with tube amplifiers and incredible turntables. They have ‘sharp ears’ and need to tickle them without anything getting in the way. Of course, reminders are OK but Duke Ellington on a micro speaker in a cell phone is somewhat inadequate to the task.

Live music, especially worship, is a story and a lot of time requires invisible people to make the story come alive. My self, I have recently become involved with media production and the amount of technical complexity is incredible. The people I am working and learning from all wear black clothing. Invisible in many ways to camera apertures, they move through the worship platform. Their job is to tell the story of God and his glory. The musicians in front of them do their very best to help listeners to enter an area of our lives, an area where we can be overcome with the joy of uniting with the presence of God. Joining with the sea of worshipers through eternity that sing Holy, Holy, Holy…forever. That story.

My personal story is pretty exciting and I have chosen Matt Damon or Tom Cruise perhaps to be the actors in the upcoming movies. Story telling. Look deeper into your life and you will see the handiwork of God through the sorrows and joy. Your stories we all ache to hear and understand. I want to listen to those stories. Even though they are not be as thrilling as you think they should be, they are. I love to hear people’s stories as they come out of the wilderness, leaning on their beloved. The best stories, It’s pretty good. Jack Gator, Scribe

In Retrospect

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 1 Comment

A beautiful October morning that started with windshield scraping and is now showing the glisten of maple leaves in bright sunlight. Drying just for me to gather and spread onto the strawberry plants within our garden.

It is October 16 as I compose this and I decided to sit in the living room sunlight and read a delightful book, A year with C.S. Lewis. It is a gift to me from one of my mentors and good and loved pastor. I read the quotes and entry for today and realized that today is the day that C.S. Lewis’ The lion the witch and the wardrobe was published in 1950.

I was six years old then and had just entered first grade at Loring Grade School about six blocks away from our home in North Minneapolis. My sister, Diana, was in fifth grade and soon to be in Junior high at Patrick Henry School about six blocks away to the east.

A few years have past since then and I have been through the usual life we all experience. Again, in C.S Lewis’ The problem of Pain, there is wisdom that struck me today as encouraging. This book was quoted in my Calendar for today and the assurance of my life unfolded.

“I have seen great beauty of spirit in some who were great sufferers. I have seen men, for the most part, grow better, not worse with advancing years…” 1.

As the sun advanced across the living room floor, I began to see my life once again. Many interesting escapades and many close calls along with poverty, imprisonment and bitter sarcasm resulting from my embracing that pain.

And yet, somewhat recently, I have begun indeed growing better and not filled with fear and hatred of the world and myself included with it. A gentling and calming that surprises my family and other friends. I still keep my wit and humor but it is now tempered with a romance of life that gently pushes the pain aside. I like it and the opportunities to give the little bit of that transforming Grace from our Lord are coming forth. The thrill of action and prayer abounds when the transformation and healing come forth from Him.

There is great hope and Faith growing within me and those are the very gifts of God.

It’s pretty good.. Jack Gator scribe

1. C.S. Lewis The problem of Pain The type writer photo is the one that Jack and Warnie Lewis used

Working Together is an Old Family Tradition

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Photo of a Father and Son teaching at Wood Lake Bible Camp, five miles north of us. [Bjorn and myself}

And they work together. Father and Son, as it has always been throughout time. Agrarian towns scattered over the countryside. Dad on the old A and his son right behind him on the big levers and adjusters for the plow or side mower.

Teamwork with the ages that is still among us. Young Harley, Davids son manufacturing motorcycles and many such business throughout the world. There are good odds that you are one of those Father and Son enterprises.

There is a business that my Son and I work at now. He has the training to be a full time director of media production and I am in training to be his assistant. It’s fast paced and like many jobs I have had, it’s a dance. Whether you are assembling something together, playing ensemble or flying, it’s satisfying and joyful to be working together. It’s perhaps akin to a ballet.

There is a Father and Son who work together that is a perfect example for all of us. They confer together and in every instance of their work, there is always consensus. The Son listens to the wisdom of his father and the work they do is nothing short of a miracle. They also have a third person of the family that is a communicator between them and us. You can use His name too if you like.

You know them, you talk a lot to them and sometimes we get confused as which one we are talking to. Thanks OK, they don’t mind. They have many names and all of them work pretty well. The names most often used are in our instruction manuals we keep near us. I loose the ones for appliances and such but I always have a manual for those three. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Have a nice talk with them and be sure to pay close attention to the wisdom and guidance they will give you. Listening really helps.

It’s pretty good. Norm the Gator

The Aeolian Harp

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Wind chimes, the delight of the flutter of blown leaves or the sway of a tall tree from a breeze that can be heard. These simple things generate a delight that can be explained that have never been explored in the emotion we feel.

The sudden pleasure and smile within our spirit is not even noticed in some ways. It’s just there. We are mostly unaware of the two forces within and without of us. There is a sudden flash of lighting and the instant thunder that shakes the house as the imprint on our retina starts to fade from the sun hot blaze strike. Nicoli Tesla would stand up clap and cheer every time he heard a bolt of lightning. A miracle all of us have heard of the connection between negative and positive EMF. From clouds that can weigh up to a million pounds!

We can then tremble at the power and fear felt or immediately be amazed in delight at the impossible power in a cloud of water. A thought that brings us to our spirit connection and the calm presence of our familiar lover of our soul.

The wind chimes again come to mind. That storm with the wind and thunder may have played a fast tune on them before they became tangled and perhaps so tangled that they could Knot easily be put right. [pun] Are we then to look about the strings and tubes and give up and toss the whole assembly? Or, take hold of the calm and rightness of beauty in the storm and take it apart lovingly, and bring the chimes back to life.

I have begun to see the connection between emotional storms and the music of the Aeolian harp that responds to the storm and gives us the steady center of our being. Full of sound and fury is the world and ourselves if we don’t listen for the calm and clearing skies within us.

“What if all animated nature be but animated harps diversely framed that tremble into thought, as o’er them sweeps plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze, at once the soul of each, and God of all?” A.

Prayer seemed unnecessary. As I heard the breath of God tell me, once again the old saying of no one really knows where the wind comes from and wither it goes. He was telling me that His breath indeed is the breath inside my lungs I can now use this inward gift to praise Him and live in His presence. An Aeolian harp sings and it’s pretty good. Jack Gator

We must be sensitive to nature’s voice if we are to be truly human. This is the whisper of God’s voice to us. I was at a prayer meeting where we were told to find a place where we could, in isolation, pray. I chose to go outside and sit on a porch. I began to hear wind and watched a very tall tree swaying it’s top.

1. Colerigdge Many thanks to the writing of Carl R. Trueman

Neither Despair Nor Optimism

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Upon reading the title of this column, it can be confusing. The description of despair is more or less easy to understand. When confronted with the world we are now in, it seems rather hopeless and we lament there is really nothing we can do about it.

Optimism counters that hopeless feeling that there is a relief on the horizon. Believing perhaps in a coming regime change there will be change that is beneficial to us. The banner of someone that promises what we long for, whatever our personal belief is in a better world. For us.

The despair of course knowing that this will not happen and that things will not go as we expect. Optimism takes a hold and we feel that if we just sit tight, everything will work out OK.

Much akin to Pollyanna thoughts. Don’t worry, be happy as a popular song we have heard.

Nothing to be done, or it will be alright in the end. I find it an odd conundrum as both attitudes are in conflict with the faith I embrace. Most certainly, my life and the life of my family is pretty good as my scribe, the gator always says. It is. We have a lovely place to live and many good friends and the ability to move about and enjoy the fruits of our labor. Literally as the garden and labor provides food and repair of things that do break down.

We know, all the way back to the Diache and the Westminister confession, that there is a real solution and a way to deal with our world. A fallen world and one with joy and sorrow. Oppression and helpfulness. A world that has been promised by our Creator that is not our home but a place of formation and life. Not prosperity nor futility experienced with either optimism nor despair but with the answer for everything. Hope.

Hope indeed that can be expressed by us with belief that there is indeed a home for us that will be fulfilling and joyful. All life ends in death and yet the promise we sing in our faith filled rooms with our brothers and sisters is the one answer. Faith.

Through the ages before us, our shinning light has been the incarnation of faith itself. The impossible visit by the Creator of everything that was and will be. He told us centuries ago that our world would indeed be filled with both sorrow and joy. He experienced both things when, hard to believe, impossible for some, He walked among us and taught again and again those things. Do not despair and wallow in fear, do not sit tight and think it will all work out.

Walk as I walk He said, follow me to true life and become children of God. This is the answer to all things. Hope which is Grace which leads to Faith, the very gift of God. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator scribe.

with thanks to Carl R. Truman ‘Strange new world‘

What Time is It?

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Time is a major element in our society. Everything is on the clock Per Se. It is a derivative of numbers which is everything we do and handle in our lives. Think about how much that is a focus point.

The Census which I worked, the number of the population. How much in the bank and my wallet. Fuel in the tank. Counting time to go, time left. Speed limit and what is the number over it I can get away with. Taxes owed and returned. Mortgage rates and actuarial tables of all things (such as how many numbers until we ‘pass away’) Numbers are our lives. Consider acreage, clothing sizes and how many miles are left on the car.

At this point I cannot number how many other things I number. How much time do I have left to write this anyway?

I wondered why it was so difficult and boring to read Numbers 26. I live my life by the number. Why is it that the top ‘stripe’ on my keyboard AND the box on the right both have numbers?

Just for entertainment, I will attempt to stop counting today. The created world has enough numbers without clocks that are set. Rotation, orbits and galaxy distances. Is that why we use tens and such to count everything? First things first kids. Ten fingers, ten toes. What does that add up to? Maturity goalpost! I win the casino of life and rolled the right..number.

Is that really our lives? We go hide and listen to the countdown? 10 to zero..liftoff! Houston, we have a go! I have gotten dizzy writing this because there are only so may words I can put in a column and what page will it be on in the next edition of the paper or what page in the upcoming book should I put it on? Is my coffee ready? The timer on the pot went off. Etc. etc. etc.

Lets try it for a few minutes (oops another number) and go way back. As far as we can imagine to a point where there are no numbers to control every moment of our lives. Before beats per minute, before breaths and before length at birth.

All the way back before numbers were so important. How long were Adam and Eve in the garden? When did the numbers began to rule?

“Hey Adam, the apples are ripe finally, want one? Just one bite”

It’s confusing to read this, how much time did it take you? Thanks for taking time to do so. Gotta get to the library, my reference book is due. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator.

Sky Palace Part II

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

As mentioned in Sky Palace 1,there is nothing in the Bible that tells us what eternal life is like except for the ‘room’ prepared and the presence of Jesus. As a people with imagination and a hope of continuing some version of our earthly life, we create heaven to suit us. No one has the full picture, for obvious reasons. The price of admission is death and only once I was given a small review by my dear friend at the moment of his death. He appeared for a few seconds and said; “It’s better than you said!” A message from his wife confirmed the time.

Why was I given this very rare gift of seeing and hearing a friend entering paradise?

What did I tell him? Whatever it was, it fell short of what happened and I am excited about that for me. Not my first choice right now, but a reality for my future which is very soon according to scripture. Our life here is just a vapor. There is usually enough time to make some decisions about our eternity.

One of my favorite authors wrote a short story about his vision of that decision and the veil lifted when entering in to forever life, better than we can imagine. The story is called “The Great Divorce” by C.S. Lewis. I recommend this short read.

Why would anyone prefer the Christian viewpoint of life, the universe and everything (Douglas Adams) We all have ‘the question’ of what’s the point? [another recommended book, “What’s the point?” by Misty Edwards.]

What indeed is the reason for our existence? Evolution can’t give us any answer, It’s the impossible religion of life’s meaning. . Embrace it and indeed it will be ‘dust to dust’. As I mentioned before in part I, none of the other religions offer anything but a child’s imagination to that deepest question of our heart. I am aware of the mention of an answer to that question and it is found in the most popular and well read book on the planet: The Bible. From Genesis to Revelation, all the words in it tell us over and over again about a savior who has many beautiful names, the most recognized is Jesus. No chapter and verse need be mentioned because scripture is rich with names and descriptions of this Man who is, impossibly, God as well.

The revelation that this man knows everything in my heart is almost too intimate and shameful to bear. The realization that at my deepest, I am not nice, not pleasant beneath my public face is universal truth. Look in your heart and be truthful to yourself. There are thoughts and actions and desires hidden, even from ourselves! The evil and wickedness of the world is not ‘them’. In the wise words of a cartoon character, Pogo: “I have met the enemy and it’s us”

The miracles that happened when Jesus asked for them are stunning and impossible. Does anyone know somebody that raised a man dead three days to life? He Turned the world upside down with more incredible acts and words than are possible for only a ‘good teacher’ or as some say, ‘just a man’. At His execution by torture, a Roman officer suddenly stated; “Surely this man was the son of God” Why was this statement made and recorded? Jesus being baptized by John with the audible words as Jesus came up from the water; ‘This is my Son in whom I am well pleased’

Or ,how about the thief on the next cross asking for remembrance when Jesus came into HIS Kingdom? That thief was granted forgiveness on the spot for his simple heart statement. I am stating recorded words from many authors before and after the life of Jesus of Galilee.

My favorite quote is when King David was given the vision of his future great great… grandchild Jesus. 14 generations away. It’s Psalm 110 “Yahweh said to Adoni, sit at my right hand and I will make your enemies your footstool”. Take it and embrace it or argue it away. Life or death, your choice. Always is, always will be. Track me down if you want and I will tell you the the truth, I don’t create truth, it just is.

It’s pretty good. Jack Gator, Scribe