Advent: Anna #13

A light to the nations,

   that my salvation may reach

   to the end of the earth. (Isaiah 49:6)

Dear Anna,

You will be home for Christmas. Can’t wait to see you “face to face;” as the Bible likes to say. On the first Sunday of Advent, the congregation sang a Charles Wesley hymn, “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus.” I teared up. How come?

Maybe it is because when we sing one of Her precious hymns, simply and unpretentiously, something real happens. A hymn becomes precious to us when text and tune embrace and maybe even dance:

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free…

hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

I wished you were with me to sing the hymn and to discuss the lyrics. What do you think? Isn’t it something how the hymn speaks of the largeness of Christmas and the mystery of human longing: “dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart?” Maybe that is what we celebrate during Advent—how the Gospel is always bigger than we figured.

Love, PAPA

Ordinary Days: Collins & Priscilla

By faith we understand,

   that the universe was created

   by the Word of God. (Hebrews 11:3)

 

Dear Priscilla,

It has been a joy reading with you The Language of God by Francis Collins—the lead scientist of the Human Genome Project. Did his notion of “biologos” provide a satisfactory harmony between science and faith?

I thought about how C.S. Lewis, telling young people who want to do apologetics: “What we want is not more little books about Christianity, but more little books by Christians on other subjects—with their Christianity latent” (Essay Collection, p. 150).  That is exactly what Francis Collins gives us—a physician-geneticist noted for his landmark discoveries of disease genes, and his visionary leadership of the Human Genome Project; who just happens to be a committed Christian. Lewis’ day job was as a literary critic publishing such books in his field of study as Study in Words; and, An Experiment in Criticisms, and the epic vol. III of The Oxford History of English Literature in the Sixteenth Century published over 70 years ago and still used in classrooms to this today. He was an accomplished literary scholar who just happened to be a Christian. Like Collins, his apologetics comes from his testimony: “This is why I believe…”

That is exactly what the Bible tells us to do: “Always be ready to make your defense (apologia) to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence” (1Pt 3:15-16). Collins, like Lewis, goes about his apologetics because he happens to be Christians. He does it persuasively, yet always with gentleness and reverence towards those who demand an accounting. His apologetics comes as a testimony concerning the hope of the Gospel that lies within him.

So, do well in Computer Science. And, be prepared to explain to others the hope of the Gospel that lies within you.

Love, Papa

Ordinary Days: Anna #12

Don’t be forced into

   the pattern (syschēmartizō >schēma)

   of this age (aiōn)… (Romans 12:1)

 

Dear Anna,

Your syllabus for “Introduction to Gender, Sexuality, and Intersectionality Studies;” has me a bit concerned. The course description states:

In this introductory course in Gender, Sexuality, and Intersectionality studies, we will take the opportunity, as a class learning community, to explore the dynamics of oppression and privilege using a feminist lens focusing on topics of gender, race, class, sex, sexuality, ableness and age through a wide range of texts and media. We will look at these issues with both a historical feminist lens as well as a current lens for contrast and comparison.

That’s a lot of issues to be focused on through the lens of “historical feminist” and “current lens.” In my day, feminism wasn’t “historical,” but “current.” We talked of a “feminist hermeneutic” as a larger way of seeing the sacred text. I’ll be interested in hearing about the “current lens,” and how it differs from feminist interpretation. No doubt “current” today will be for your children another “historic lens.” Makes me think there is something faddish about it all. “Current” is now the fashion. And, you’ve never been one for fashion, have you? That’s why you are a classicist, right?

Creation gives us God’s mind concerning his creation. It’s true that the innocence of creation has been lost. We need some sort of covering in our fallen world. Even creation at its best remains ragged—it has jagged edges. There is loss and tragedy in it. Nevertheless, as the hymn goes: “Though oft the wrong seems oh so strong; God is the ruler yet. This is my Father’s world…”

Much Love, PAPA

 

Ordinary Days: Anna #11

There was

   a long war.

  (Second Samuel 3:1)

Dear Anna,

Thank you for sending your class syllabi my way. We just returned from a Montana road trip with Lori and Jerry Sjodahl. At Flathead Lake, the trip turned magical—play-by-play can wait until we talk “face to face,” as the Bible likes to say. When I spoke with you from Seeley Lake, MT; your roommate had COVID. How is that going? I trust this finds you well.

I enjoyed reading your syllabi. “As the Roman’s Say” looks great. That and the syllabus on “International Politics,” follow the same format I liked to use. I printed out “Native American History.” It had the least pages and Grammy wanted to read it. Don, Grammy’s step father, was part Sioux Indian and the nephew of Chief Crazy Horse. Maybe that is why Don was such a great warrior, parachuting behind enemy lines on D-Day with the 101 Airborne. That’s why Grammy is always on the side of Native Americans.

Love, Papa

 

Ordinary Days: Anna, #10

There was

    much weeping. (Acts 20:37)

 

Dear Anna, 

Grammy was tearing up. I asked her, “Why the tears?” She simply said, “Anna;” knowing I could figure it out.

Grammy was thinking about you leaving to attend Connecticut College. All eighteen of your years have been lived out across town from us on the other side of Main Street. During your stroller days, we would meet in the middle for a Main Street dinner at High Tech Burrito. We spent many a Saturday watching you swim for Castlewood Country Club where we could pretend like we were rich. When you got your driver’s license, your first drive was across town to Grammy and Papa’s house. We looked with wonder as you, all by yourself, pulled into the driveway. How fun to have you in our life.

Who are we going to call when we need someone to climb up into the attic to get stuff down or to put stuff up? Or, who else is going to stop by Farmers Market on Saturday mornings and pick up a Cinnamon Crisp for Papa? Or, who are we going to call for all sorts of high tech challenges?

Tomorrow you and your mom fly to New York, rent a car, and travel 122 miles to Connecticut College in New London. You won’t be across town anymore. That’s why Grammy was tearing up. But, it was a good cry—crying because you’re not there; and at the same time, tears of joy for all that lies ahead.

Love, PAPA

Ordinary Days: Anna, #9

All have sinned

   and fallen short of God’s Glory.

   (Romans 3:23)

 

Dear Anna,

You introduced me to that great James Madison quote from Federalist Paper #51: “If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.” The point being, that humans govern humans and thus all governing is flawed. To deal with human governing, the U.S. Constitution, Madison argues, must provide checks and balances between Legislative, Executive, and Judiciary branches of government, in order to put a check on our propensity to abuse power.

Madison knew Augustine’s The City of God; in which Augustine reminds us that all earthly kingdoms are earthly. That goes for church governance as well. The church is a human institution. The Kingdom of God awaits us and always points beyond us. That gives us the best line of the Preamble: “In order to form a more perfect union.” If it were to say, “In order to form the perfect government…” We would be in big trouble—tyranny, as with all utopian claims.

Fortunately, for us, our founders knew Augustine. Maybe, while reading the classics, you too will get to know the Bishop of Hippo. Maybe you will read it in the original Latin. Wouldn’t that be something?

Love, PAPA

 

Ordinary Days: Anna, #8

Those who mock the poor

   insult their Maker.

   (Proverbs 17:5)

 

Dear Anna,

You have always been on the side of the oppressed. When you were but a sophomore, you wrote, what turned out to be, an award winning poem. The last stanza sums up your feelings:

            Don’t judge people, don’t be a fool;

                You really aren’t that cool.

                Call me names, do what you want;

                Through it all, I’ll remain nonchalant.   

That’s you! The poem expresses your concern for those whom the cool kids judge not cool. The poem also expresses your sense of your own person. I love that about you. Jesus sided with the poor, the lowly, and even risked conversation with that Samaritan woman.

I look forward to seeing where your thoughts will lead you—what ideological form they will take in you. My guess is it will take a uniquely Anna form—not just the fashionable ideology of the day; but your own thought. You will take your teachers by surprise. You have become a woman of substance, like Ruth the Moabites, with a mind of your own. I look forward to discussing such things with you.

Love, PAPA

 

Ordinary Days: Anna, #7

God shows

   no partiality. (Romans 2:11)

 

Dear Anna,

Derrick Bell, way back in my time, is the father of CRT. He taught law at Harvard and Stanford. Like our Lord, when teaching, he liked to tell stories. He gathered up some of these stories and put them into a book entitled Faces at the Bottom of the Well: https://www.c-span.org/video/?34630-1/faces-bottom-well.

My two favorite stories are The Afrolantica Awakening about how the lost continent of Atlantis, lush and beautiful, floats up to the surface. To everyone’s surprise, only black people could breathe Atlantis’ air. It is the kind of fantasy you would write. And the book’s last story, The Space Traders about extraterrestrials who arrive in the United States offering gold, safe nuclear power, and other technological advances in exchange for all of its black citizens. They require a decision in 5 days. It all adds up to blacks finding themselves, despite civil rights laws and all our platitudes, at the bottom of the well. Why is that?

Derrick Bell reminds me of John Calvin, that 16^th century theologian and father of the Reformation. I like Calvin, but Calvinist can be obnoxious know-it-alls. Calvin calls them his “cavalier followers”. I like Bell, but his followers tend to be domineering and dictatorial. They allow no room to discuss any alternatives or other possibilities. It is as if their critical theory has reached the status of ex cathedra. I hope your teachers allow robust questioning. I don’t know anyone better at questioning things than you.

Love, PAPA

 

Ordinary Days: Anna, #6

Maintain justice,

   and treat others right.

   (Isaiah 56:1)

 

Dear Anna,

When you visited the Lincoln memorial, you read the two speeches, the only two presidential speeches worthy of being carved in marble. In these carved-in-marble-speeches, Lincoln goes back to the Declaration “Four score and seven years” earlier when: “Our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” We remain “dedicated to the proposition.”

Though Nikole Hannah-Jones of the 1619 project, trashes the signers of The Declaration, she ends up honoring The Declaration itself:

The United States is a nation founded on both an ideal and a lie. Our Declaration of Independence, signed on July 4, 1776, proclaims that ‘‘all men are created equal’’ and ‘‘endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.’’ But the white men who drafted those words did not believe them to be true for the hundreds of thousands of black people in their midst. ‘‘Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness’’ did not apply to fully one-fifth of the country. Yet despite being violently denied the freedom and justice promised to all, black Americans believed fervently in the American creed. Through centuries of black resistance and protest, we have helped the country live up to its founding ideals.

These flawed white men, who signed the Declaration pledging their Lives, their Fortunes and their sacred Honor; managed to produce an ideal that “black Americans believed fervently,” and “through the centuries of black resistance and protests,” have “helped the country live up to its founding ideals.” That is true. Great ideals are always bigger than ourselves. It is hard to beat the “founding ideals” of the Declaration: life and liberty and equality and justice for all (13^th Amendment). At our best, we are always trying “to form a more perfect union.” Thus the amendments that you spoke so eloquently about in “We the People”:  13^th, 14^th, and 15^th written into the Constitution “to secure the blessing of liberty” for all our people. We can honor that, can’t we?

Love, PAPA

Ordinary Days: Anna, #5

Question everything;

   hold on to what is good!

    (First Thessalonians 5:21)

 

Dear Anna, 

It was fun going through your Connecticut College seminar options with you. I like the one on “Latin language and the culture of Ancient Rome.” Especially since you chose Connecticut so you could study Latin. But all those seminars like “Myths that Made America,” where “Students will examine the ways in which myths naturalize power structures and hierarchies in society that include, exclude, and keep certain people ‘down’”—sounds like a good dose of CRT. It has become the ethos of the academia since my time.

Critical Race Theory, as I understand it, is a legitimate academic pursuit. Critical means questioning things. That’s good. The Bible tells us to “question everything.” We go to college to develop our critical thinking. Race—Racism persist in-spite-of Civil Rights Laws and our best efforts to eradicate it. Why is that so? Theory—-In seeking answers to our questions, we come up with possible explanations for why racism persists.  

The theory is that racism persist because it is deeply imbedded in our nation’s history, founding documents, and laws. In short, irredeemable racism finds its way into all our social structures, even church. To validate the theory requires the complete retelling of our nation’s history (as in the 1619 project), and the dismantling of our political and social structures so that we can reconstruct non-racist institutions.

Meanwhile, such a theory causes us to 1) condemn our present institutions that spring from our founding documents: The Declaration of Independence and The Constitution, as irredeemably racist and thus to be dismantled; and 2) tell victims of racism that their plight, within our present social structure, is hopeless. I think we can tell a sober history of our nation and at the same time honor our founders and our founding documents. The Bible does that, for example, when it tells the story King David: “You have shed too much blood.” (1Chron 28:3)

Danielle Allen, in her book Our Declaration; gives us good reason to honor our founding document. She is an African American classical scholar at Harvard; who believes The Declaration is a wonder worthy of being called “Our Declaration.” Thank you for reading it with me. We’ll discuss with the book between us; and then, off to college you go.

Much Love,

Papa

Ordinary Days: Anna, #4

Runners race to

   compete for the prize.

   (First Corinthians 9:24)

 

Dear Anna,

What a joy it was for Grammy and me to watch you compete in the U.S.A. Water Polo Junior Olympics. And, what a venue: Stanford’s Avery Aquatic Center. I felt smarter just being on campus. I’m so happy you will continue your water polo competition at Connecticut College. Great colleges honor sport competition. You can’t exercise the mind apart from the body. That is why we believe in a bodily resurrection. Without our bodies we are not us.

Jesus teaches us to “Love the Lord our God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our mind, and with all our strength.”  “Heart” and “soul” speak of something interior while “mind” and “strength” speak of our exterior endeavors. Jesus affirms that we are mind and body. When you play to win the prize; you put all your strength into it. College, at its best, develops strength of both mind and body.

Maybe best of all, by playing water polo you learn to be a part of a team where you experience that unique comradery of striving together to win the prize. Chance are, some of your team mates will become friends for life. When you are as old as I, you will sit around and talk about the elation of winning and the pain of losing. That too is sports’ great lesson—how to win and how to lose. We win as team and we lose as a team. In winning we acknowledge the part others played; and, when we lose, we honor the other team and show up for practice the next day to see if we can’t do better next time. That’s life.

Love, Papa

Ordinary Days: Anna, #3

God formed Leviathan

   to rollick in the sea.

   (Psalm 104:26)

 

Dear Anna,

Grammy and I are at the Kinser Cabin, or as it says over the front door, “Kinser Kabin.”  I don’t know if you have ever been here. Your mom has, year after year when she was younger than you. Back then, Gary and Janice Kinser and their three girls, about the same age as our three children, invited us to join them most every August to rollick about on The Lake. Your mom can tell you stories.

But today, it’s just Janice Kinser, Gary died near three years ago. We sit around, tell stories of when our children were young, and brag about our grandchildren. The Kinser Kabin is up the road about four blocks from the west shore of Lake Tahoe. If you go upstairs and look out the window of the kids’ front bedroom, you can see a sliver of The Lake between the trees. When we see the water from a distance, we long all the more to get into the water—to rollick about as Leviathan of old. To actually get into the water, you walk down the hill those four blocks onto a private beach with its private peer. We’ve been told, the “private” part includes us; at, least that’s how we go about it and no one has put a stop to it.

Today, we are leery of walking down to the peer because you have to walk back up hill four blocks and we are quite sure Papa won’t make it back up. So we will settle for that little sliver of blue water we can see from that second story kids’ bedroom window; and, reminisce about the times we spent with our families rollicking about in the The Lake.

Maybe the closest our grandchildren have come to such a place is that big old beach house in Mission Beach—big enough to fit all sixteen of us. There we watched our grandchildren grow up together year after year. You were something of a loner at first—retreating into your books. But, by and by, you engaged more and more. You still have your books, but these latter years, you boogie board with your cousins, and surf board with your cousins, and play volleyball with your cousins, and together, we enjoyed all sorts of watery jollifications. The Tahoe magic of your mom and your aunt and uncle has made its way to Mission Beach. Grammy and Papa are blessed to watch such magic have its way with you.

Love Grammy & Papa

 

Ordinary Days: Anna, #2

O Lord,

   grant me success.

   (Genesis 24:12)

 

Dear Anna,

Your journey to Connecticut College on the Thames River in New London, CT.; caused me to think some about Eliezer’s journey back to the old country to find a wife for Isaac—the son of The Promise. Along the way, he prays that God will grant him success. It is the first recorded prayer in the Bible: “O Lord, God of my master Abraham, please grant me success today and show steadfast love to my master Abraham…”

Your journey to New London most likely will set the course for your own life of Promise. What does God have in store for you? Grammy and Papa are praying for good things—that “the angel of our Lord will go before you, and cause your journey to prosper!” (Gn 24)

Much Love, Grammy and Papa

Ordinary Days: Anna, #1

 Let us reason together,

   says the Lord.

   (Isaiah 1:18)

 

Dear Anna,

In twenty days, you head off to New London, Connecticut, to begin your college days. It is your turn. Abby led going off to Texas State University in San Marcos and now continues her Physician Assistant program at Alabama. Then came her younger sister Priscilla who finished her first year at Baylor. And now you—off to Connecticut College. That’s over 3,000 miles away—about as far away as you can get without crossing the Atlantic.

Each has their own journey: Abby medical, Priscilla computer science, and now you and your love for history and political science—for Latin and the classics. Along with your deep passion for justice and equality. I remember, a long time ago, when you were in Junior High, and you found out that, in our church, women could not serve as elders; you cried, “That’s not right!” Your mom called me over to talk. And, we talked. We’ve always been free to talk, haven’t we? Let’s never lose that, okay? Even when you are a long way from home.

Love,

Papa

Eastertide 4th Week: First Year

Do you have what it takes

   to complete it? (Luke 14:28)

Dear Priscilla,

Finals week and then you come home. Your first year at Baylor University completed. Congratulation. I hear tell you are planning to come and see us. Can’t wait to see your face.

One more year, and you’ll be an upperclassman; or, is that “upperclasswoman.” Will your next year wiz by like this last? As the Apostle John wrote to one of his churches—he called her “The Chosen Lady.” The church is always a lady—the Bride of Christ. Let’s see, where were we? Oh, yes, as John wrote to his Chosen Lady: “I hope to see you face to face, so that our joy may be complete.” (2Jn v12)

Eastertide 4th Week: Orientation.

The Lord created medicines

   out of the earth. (Sirach 38:4)

Dear Abby, 

Orientation for your near three years of studies in the Physician’s Assistant Program at the University of South Alabama begins in a few days. So, you moved from San Marcos, TX some ten hours east along Interstate Ten to Mobile, AL, where you move into a home of your very own—some three blocks from the university, I’m told. What is it like to be a homeowner?

We will be interested in your Orientation and your classes for the semester. I’ve had a lot of interaction with Physician’s Assistants lately. They are the ones I communicate with. The PAs tell me when I can take the bandages off my head, and the stitches out of my scalp, and activate my stimulator. I tell them, “My granddaughter is studying to be a PA.” They light up.

A few years back, we did a road trip with the Sjodahls along Interstate Ten from New Orleans to Tallahassee, FL. We passed right through Mobile, but it meant nothing to me then. But now, it’s a special place.

 

Easter Sunday: pan ethnē (παν έθνη)

 The Messiah is to suffer

   and rise from the dead…

So that forgiveness of sins

   will be proclaimed to all nations. (Luke 24:46-48)

Dear Priscilla,

It is a lonely Easter Sunday for us. It has to do with the lingering pandemic. I’m quarantined till DBS surgery a week from Thursday. It’s my first Easter away from church—the fellowship, the community of saints who gather on this Sunday of all Sundays.

The “pan” in “pandemic” caused me to think of our risen Lord’s words: “pan ethnē.” You can figure it out without even knowing Greek: “all ethnicities;” or, as usually translated, “all nations.” That’s how us gentiles get in on it. Our Risen Lord teaches us that that was always in the heart of God—in all scripture, that the terms of Jesus’ death had to do with the salvation “of all people” (Lk 2:10).

Jen just dropped by on her way to church along with Sarah and Josh; so, it is not a totally lonely Easter after all. When they left for church, we found your Easter service on YouTube—Harris Creek. We looked for you among the worshipers. You pastor talked about the cross being the cure for the sickness of sin. A “pan” salvation for the pandemic of sin.

 

Lent: Friends

Greet our friends

   by name. (3 John 15)

Dear Priscilla,

I’m looking at the picture you sent Grammy of you with your university friends. I’m so happy you have found such good friends. I hope, like your sister Abby, you will be able to bring them by someday so that we can know them by name. Jesus refers to his Bethany friend as “Our friend Lazarus” (Jn 11:11). That is the thing about good friends—you want others, even your grandparents, to know them too.

I didn’t realize how difficult high school friendships were for you. In the midst of the COVID epidemic you moved from Vandegrift High School in Austin, TX, up I-25 near 1,000 miles to Dakota Ridge High School in Littleton, CO. Maybe God, like with Job, is making up double for what you lost. I pray you will be able to nestle into your university years, enjoy your university friendships, and even enjoy your university studies. Enter into your collegiate life with joy and thanksgiving. It is a special time.

Lent: Tears

Hold back your tears;

   don’t lose hope. (Jeremiah 31:16-17) 

Dear Anna,

I’m sorry to hear you did not get into Harvard or Yale, though you were interviewed by both. You had high hopes. You can’t help but be disappointed; even to tears. Tears are good. It means you care—that you have big aspirations and hopes. “‘Don’t lose hope!’ says the Lord” (Jr 31:17).

We try to comfort with phrases like: “God has a plan for your life;” or, “God closes one door to open another.” There’s truth to it. But we can’t speak the words of comfort until we allow sorrow to run its course. Lenten season allows us to sorrow with Jesus. Jesus wept. There is Easter Morning; but, between now and then, it is okay to cry. God allows us our tears. The Psalms are full of laments: “In my grief, I wondered if God really cares” (Ps 77 sung by the congregation).

 

 

Lent: Graduation

 Blessed are those

  who join in the festal walk. (Psalm 89:15)

Dear Abby,

Since we missed your Texas State University graduation due to COVID; Grammy and I were looking forward all the more to your Master’s graduation. But now we hear you won’t be able to join in the graduation ceremony; because Orientation to your Physician Assistant Program at Southern Alabama University starts the day before. That’s not fair. We were hoping to celebrate with you and see you walk in your festal Master’s Robe with those dangling sleeves swaying in the breeze.

We will figure out a celebration date of our own. Maybe Grammy and I will make a trip out to Mobile and see your new digs. The Bible makes provision for those who can’t make it to the big festivals:

If you can’t make it to the festival; you may sell the tithe portion of your crops and herds. Use the money to buy anything you want: cattle, sheep, wine, or beer—anything that looks good to you. You and your family can then feast in the Presence of the Lord, your God, and have a good time (Dt 14:24-26).

That’s what we will do—a family celebration in your new home.

Lent: Where is God?

Jesus suffered

   and died for us. (Hebrews 13)

Dear Pricilla,

The thing about these European wars is that they are wars between Christian nations. Even communist Russia calls on the Russian Orthodox Church to pray for victory. As Abraham Lincoln said of our Civil War: “Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. … The prayers of both could not be answered. …The Almighty has His own purposes.”

That does not mean we do not take sides. Since Jesus “suffered and died,” we take the side of the victims—the Ukrainians and Zelensky, their brave president. It does mean that we must be careful, as Lincoln warned, not to drag the Almighty into our agenda and our purposes. God has His own purposes.

Which leads us to a more difficult question, “Why does our loving God allow such injustice, violence and suffering? If God really is Almighty, why doesn’t God put a stop to such wars and violence?”

Lent is the season when the church turns to our Suffering Savior who “suffered, outside the city, in order to cleanse the people by His own blood” (Hb 13:12).  On the Cross, God enters into our suffering. The writer to the Hebrews points out that Jesus suffered “outside the city.” I wonder if that means, all Powers and nations, tribes and ethnicities that call on the name of God must find Him outside of their control—their ideology, politics, or claims to righteousness? Easter Morning does not cancel the Cross; but rather makes the cross The Cross—that place, outside the city, were God is to be found.

 

Lent: Rock of our Salvation.

 The Rock, his work is perfect,

   and all his ways are just.

A faithful God, without deceit,

   just and upright is He. (Deuteronomy 32:4)

 Dear Rachel,

The war is troublesome. Zelensky tries to convince us that Putin’s threat of nuclear weapons is just a bluff. We are not so sure. So we keep our distance and watch and see how the war plays out. It is so tragic.

The Biblical metaphor of God as The Rock is an unfit analogy, but it caused me to think of Zelensky this morning… how he is a rock over against the Powers--that Russia should stumble over such a rock. He, of course, is not The Rock “without deceit, just and upright.” He’s a flawed mortal who, when it counted, stood up against the Powers. It’s a rare sight. Even if he loses, he wins—rock like.

Something like our Lenten Jesus; The Victim of the Powers who becomes “a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense.” The Rock over which the Powers “fall and break” (Is 8:13 & 1Pt 2:7-10).

 

Epiphany: War

 There will be wars and rumors of wars;

   see that you are not alarmed. (Matthew 24:6)

Dear Priscilla,

I woke up to War in Europe. It is a scary thought. Few generations, I suspect, have been as free from the reality of war as your generation. When I was in college, the Vietnam War hung over everything. College was our way out of the military—our way of staying out of the battle.

Even then, the Vietnam War was one of those left over wars from the really big war that our fathers fought—like Don, your mom’s grandpa, who parachuted with the 101st behind enemy lines. I grew up with veterans of that big war. Seems each had a story to tell; or, not to tell. Some bore the story of war on their body like the tall man in our congregation with his disfigured face and blinded eyes led around by his beautiful wife. My dad told me they were engaged when he went off to war; and, she married him when he returned.

One in particular, a tall, my dad told me handsome man, but when I saw him his face was disfigured and his eyes were blind; and, his beautiful wife lead him about by the hand (That’s the other part of the story my dad told me, how when he came back blind and disfigured, his beautiful girlfriend married him.)

As you learned in you Biblical Studies class last semester, the Bible story is a history of wars: Assyria, Egypt, Syria, Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome. Not to mention all those little wars with the “Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites” (Josh 3:10). Who did I miss; oh yes… David and the Philistines, especially that Philistine giant. Little wars remains real wars for those engaged in battle.

The Big war is way behind you—long before you were born. But, come to think of it, you have known, as our Lord prophesied: “wars and rumors of wars;” haven’t you. It’s just that this one—the one I woke up to this morning; is too much like that Big one. Jesus would not have us follow the illusions of the false prophets who proclaim “‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace” (Jer 6:14). Nevertheless, as Jesus teaches us, “Don’t be alarmed; for the end is not yet” (Mt 24:6). Nations with their terrible wars will not bring about “the end.” The end is God’s doing.

 

Epiphany: Blind man of Bethsaida

“I can see people,

  but they look like trees.” (Mark 8:24)

It took some doing, but a couple more Jesus touches, and the blind man of Bethsaida eventually “saw everything clearly.” Sometimes, even a Jesus miracle takes some doing. Jesus takes him by the hand and leads him out of the village. Outside the village, Jesus puts saliva on his eyes (best done outside the village) and lays his hands on him; and then asks, “Can you see anything?” The blind man answers, “Not exactly…” Jesus sticks with him until he “could see everything clearly” (Mk 8:22-30).

That is how it went with me. While my legs were bouncing up and down, the technician, with her eyes darting between my left leg and her computer, sought to dial me in. Not exactly a Jesus miracle—too clunky and technical for that; but, something of a scientific marvel nonetheless. The left side of my Parkinson’s symptoms calmed down; but, not altogether. Tremors keep sneaking in. It is better. We had hoped “all things would become new” (Rv 21:5).

For now, I await left brain surgery to see if it calms down my right side tremors. Maybe we best prepare for “not altogether;” but better. That’s what medical science can do. It can make old things better. Like the blind man who at first only sees in part, it will take another Jesus touch before we “see everything clearly.” One can hear the Apostle’s “For now…” (1Cor 13): “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully… For now, faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.”  

 

Epiphany: Show Yourself.

Don’t tell anyone,

   go and show yourself

   to the priest. (Mark 1:44)

Tomorrow, I “go and show” myself to my neurologist along with a Boston Scientific technician. They will look over what the surgeon implanted in my right brain and the stimulator implanted in my right chest.

During Epiphany, we celebrate “how Jesus went about doing good and healing all sorts of diseases” (Ac 10 & Mt 4). When Jesus healed those with the disease of leprosy; he would tell them not to make a big deal about it and humbly go to the temple, as described in the Law of Moses, and have the priest check them out. If the miracle worked, the priest would pronounce them cured and thus free to enter into public life. I feel something like that. I’m on my way to the temple of modern medicine to have my implanted stimulator programed and activated. Then we will know whether or not the science placed in my brain works. I pray it is so.

 

Epiphany: A strange concoction.

They applied to his disease,

   a dressing of figs,

   and he recovered. (2 Kings 20:7)

Woke up thinking of those figs that led to King Hezekiah’s recovery. It was the Lord’s doing. God granted the King healing and another fifteen years of life. But, somehow, a brew of figs also had something to do with it. Not just a fig or two, but some sort of medical fig concoction applied to King Hezekiah’s diseased body, brings about his God-promised recovery. Sirach tells us that “The Lord created medicines out of the earth …by them the physician heals and takes away pain” (Sirach 38). I wonder what King Hezekiah was thinking when the physicians plastered his boils with their brew of figs.

I’ve been reading up on my own brew of hi-tech figs. The technician from Boston Scientific phoned and told me to make sure my stimulator, implanted in my chest, is properly charged for Friday’s appointment. This isn’t easy. I’m not good at reading instruction manuals. It’s complicated. It has to do with charging my charger, and making sure my remote is properly charged, and then sometime tomorrow, I’ll see if I can charge up my stimulator with my charged up charger, and then check it out with my charged up remote read-out that tells me whether or not my stimulator is properly charged.  Figs sounds better.

 

Epiphany: Catholic Edition

I pray

   that they may all

   be one. (John 17:21)

Dear Rachel,

I never heard of the “Catholic Edition” of the Revised Standard Version of the Bible. How did you come across it? I discovered you are right. It is true—first published in 1966, fourteen years after the RSV was published. So, it’s been around for near 60 years and I knew nothing of it until you brought it up. Thanks for educating me once again.

I ended up Amazonian it with one click. Mom caught me: “Another Bible?” I tried to explain how it’s all your fault. Anyway, it turned out to be very interesting to me on several levels:

Level One:  Ecumenism… It reminded me of my idealistic seminary days when a group of us students and professors from Golden Gate Theological Seminary meet together with a group of  students and processors from the University of San Francisco (a Catholic Jesuit university on the “Hill Top” between the Golden Gate Bridge and Golden Gate Park). It’s a vague memory. I recall them coming to our hill and us going to their hill—maybe a total of four times. As I recall, the lines of division tended to be more conservative vs liberal, than protestant vs catholic. Father John and I ended up being buddies on the more conservative/evangelical end of things. I wish, like a lot of such encounters, we would have stayed in touch. I suppose he’s gone on to Glory—maybe then for sure.

Level Two:  The Revised Standard Version… It remains my life long personal Bible. It follows the tradition of the King James with its attentiveness to the public reading of scripture (the pastor’s first and primary duty, 1Tm 4:13). It is a translation for the worshipping community.

Level Three: A Common Bible… Since the King James Version no longer holds sway, churches can no longer settle on a common translation. It’s a dream; but wouldn’t it be great if all churches could settle on a common worship translation? We could call it our Sunday Morning Worship Bible. Then, for the remainder of the week, we could enjoy all sorts of other, helpful, even fun, translations.

Three is a good number. I’ll quit. Thank you for surprising me. It is always fun to learn stuff.

Love, DAD

 

Epiphany: Alpha & Omega

I am the Alpha

    and the Omega. (Revelation 1:8)

Dear Priscilla,

So you joined a sorority, the Chi Omega—as in Ẋ Ὠ. How come sororities always have two Greek letters for their name? What do they stand for?  Christians have two Greek Letters to their name also: Chi Rho as in Ẋ Ρ, the first two letters of the Greek word ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ (Christos). It is word so precious we dare not translated it into English. We keep the Greek title as is and say the Greek word, “Christ,” meaning the Anointed One. It forms one of the first symbols of the church (I think I managed to paste it below). 

Two other Greek letters come to mind: Ẩ Ὠ, as in Alpha and Omega; As in Jesus being our “Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End” (Rv 21:13). Happy to hear you are excited about Chi Omega; but, trust you will always be even more excited about your Ẩ Ὠ.

 

 

 

Epiphany: Figs?

  Isaiah said,

   “Bring a lump of figs

     so that he may recover.” (Second Kings 20:7)

Why the figs? Why not just say, “You are healed, rise up and walk about!” Funny how we never read scripture exactly the same. When things change in our lives, we notice something in the text we missed; or, in other ways overlooked; or, simply didn’t care to notice. That’s how it was with me when I revisited the twentieth chapter of Second Kings. I thought it was just about how God granted King Hezekiah another fifteen years of life. When I re-read, I noticed it wasn’t as simple as that. All sorts of things are swirling about “in those days when Hezekiah became sick and was at the point of death; and, the prophet Isaiah came to visit him” (vs 1).

Isaiah, as prophets often do, came to pronounce bad news: “Set you house in order, for you shall die, you shall not recover.” But, “as Isaiah was leaving the middle court, the word of the Lord came to him, ‘Turn back, and say to King Hezekiah, Thus says the Lord, the God of your ancestor David: I have heard your prayer, I have seen your tears; indeed, I will heal you; on the third day you shall go up to the house of the Lord. I will add fifteen years to your life. I will deliver you and this city out of the hand of the king of Assyria; I will defend this city for my own sake and for my servant David's sake’" (vss5-6).

See what I mean? It has to do with “this city” and its inhabitants who live each day in dread of the Assyrians whose king has their city, Jerusalem, in his grip. It’s not all about Hezekiah. There is a whole lot of other stuff: the Assyrians, the city, their ancestor David, the House of the Lord; and always, God’s own enormous self-regard—“for my own sake.” Somewhere in the midst of this big swirl; there are lumps of figs that Isaiah tells Hezekiah to “apply to his wounds, so that he may recover." Why the figs? Whose idea was that? Did the Lord speak such fig commands; or, as seems more probable, did Isaiah come up with it on his own?

I don’t suppose anything my Lord does is just about me. Nonetheless, in the midst of all the swirl, there are figs applied to the wounds. Isn’t that something? 

Epiphany: Recovery

 Apply lumps of figs to the wound,

    so that he may recover. (2Kings 20:7)

There’s surgery to deal with the disease, and then there’s recovery to mend the surgery that dealt with the disease. Surgery last for a day, recovery drags on. It requires “lumps of figs;” or, lumps of something, to gradually, day by day, recover from the wounds of surgery. 

Linda has been stuck with the lumps—the care giving required for recovery. I’m grateful for it all: for the Kaiser Medical Regional Neurosurgery Hospital and the team of medical professionals that put a probe in my brain and then connected it to a stimulator battery machine implanted in my chest in hopes of alleviating some of my Parkinson’s symptoms like tremors and maybe even my walking gait. But first, before we can program the hardware, the wounds of surgery have to heal. That takes time; and the latest COVID variant requires isolation. If one has to be so isolated, I’m happy it’s with Linda—she is easy to be with. After 57 years of marriage, I’m still blessed by her presence.

All indications are that the surgery went well. In a few weeks we will try out the hardware and put the surgical procedure to the test. If all works well, we will do it all over again on the right side of my brain. Funny what we do for just a few more years on God’s beautiful green earth. For Hezekiah, the figs and the recovery and the Lord; gave him another “fifteen years of life.” I’ll take that.

Epiphany: Healing?

 Honor physicians

   for their gift of healing

   comes from the Most High. (Sirach, 38).

Brain surgery awaits me tomorrow. Linda and I spent last Wednesday in pre-op sessions at Kaiser’s Regional Neurosurgery Center across the bay in Redwood City—just up the road from Stanford Hospital. The day started at 9:30am with a 45min MRI session taking extensive pictures of my brain. It was quite a trick keeping my head fixed and calm while my Parkinson legs kept thrashing about.

The rest of the day was spent meeting “the team”: nurses and technicians and PA and the anesthesiologist who will be bringing me in and out of consciousness—have to be awake to help them find the sweet spot when they insert the probe. It was our session with the surgeon that interested me—his tone and his way. A young (early 40s maybe) impressive guy; but not at all pretentious. Linda teared up. There was a simple straightforwardness about him. No big claims: “As you know,” he would say, “Parkinson is a progressive disease. This is not a cure. What Deep Brain Stimulation does, if we get it right, is pick up where your medications are giving out. Our hope is that the operation will alleviate your symptoms—especially tremors.”

Sirach (Apocryphal book of wisdom, also known as Ecclesiasticus, 180BC) has a wonderful ode to physicians (38:1-15): “Honor physicians for the Lord created them; and their gift of healing comes from the Most High.”  Through the day, I thought of that line: “gift of healing.” Neither the surgeon, nor anyone else on “the team” ever spoke of healing. Rather, they simply talked about a probe inserted into my brain and then hooked up to a machine implanted in my chest to help alleviate symptoms of my disease. It caused me to think Sirach over stated things.

During Epiphany we celebrate our Lord’s earthly life among us: “How he went about doing good and healing the oppressed” (Ac 10:38). Yet even then… even at its best, like raising his friend Lazarus from the dead; Lazarus was raised back into this mortal life only to face sickness and death. Yet, Jesus figured this mortal life is worth living. Like that zoom meeting last night with my sister, and our children with their families—our children’s children. They laughed and cried and said kind things and prayed for the surgeon and that all will go well. Jesus is right, this mortal life is worth living.

Big Healing awaits another day. That Day when “the trumpet sounds…. and this mortal body puts on immortality” (1Cor 15:52-53). On that Day, “crying and pain and death will be no more” (Rv 21:4). Between now and then; we do well, as Sirach instructs us, to give thanks for physicians and all those medical care people who attend to our physical well-being. That’s another line from Sirach’s ode: “Pray to the Lord, and give the physician his place.” We will do that.

New Year: Departures

We boarded a ship

    for ports along the coast. (Acts 27:2)

Our daughter Jen and her family, departed on the Ruby Princess from the Embarcadero in San Francisco for a ten day cruise to Cabo San Lucas and “ports along the coast.” The sad part of the story is twofold: 1) We were not able to join them as we had hoped, due to my upcoming Deep Brain Stimulation surgery schedule; and 2) We decided against accompanying them to the ship to see them off. We didn’t want to risk the City—too much trouble. This second sadness stirred memories of such departures.

From time to time, my parents would take us to The City to bid farewell to a missionary family, like Bill and Doris Berg and their about-our-same-age children Mitzi and Billy. They boarded a freighter bound for the Philippians—no cruise ship partings to Cabo. We were free to board the ship with them. For a twelve year old, the whole adventure was filled with wonder. Mitzi and Billy showed us their quarters, and together, watched the ropes and pulleys and burly longshore man load up the ship’s holds. As we left the ship, we were handed streamers from the ship to hold on to from the peer—Billy and Mitzi holding their end from the ship; and, Janlyn and me on the other end holding on from the peer. As the ship pulled out our streamers would stretch taunt. We held on tight until the streamer broke.

It wasn’t over yet. We drove from the peer to the Santa Rosa side of the Golden Gate Bridge where we waved one last good-by as their ship passed under The Bridge towards their four year missionary stint somewhere far away.

I phoned Janlyn just to make sure this wasn’t some sort of dream. She adjudicated it all and added some, like when we meet Mitzi and Billy four years later at the Home Peace in Oakland— a place provided for missionaries coming and going. “Yes, I do remember that,” I told her. And how we had changed. When they departed, we were children; and, when they returned, we were teenagers. I couldn’t help but notice.

The next time the Bergs departed it would be from SFO—not the same. Older missionaries would tell how they missed the voyage—it gave them time to prepare for their arrival in another land; and, coming home, it gave them time to decompress and think about their days on the field and how they would share it all with us. MKs and PKs—Missionary Kids and Preacher Kids; we were an odd bunch. They, the adventuresome ones; we, the home bodies. Today, I think of that oddness as blessing—who else participated in such departures and homecomings?

Maybe we can think of departing the old year and sailing into a new year as something of voyage to ports unknown. As the Bible likes to say, “Who knows?”