A Tale of Two Donkeys

 

Image from Catholic Courrier

There are, in the Bible, two donkeys that have very important roles.

The more familiar donkey is the one upon whom Jesus rode from Mount of Olives into Jerusalem. I draw your reading attention to Luke 19: 28-40 in which the familiar donkey has his “fifteen minutes of fame”.

In this episode we learn of the instruction Jesus gave to his disciples to go fetch a “never before ridden” donkey. The disciples ask what I surely would have asked…”Why in the world would someone lend such a very important asset to a stranger?”

You see, I think this donkey was critical, or would be critical in the livelihood of the family. I don’t think the donkey was a pet or some incidental animal that they fed without any economic return. It was a big deal that the owners released their asset because they were told “The Lord needs it”.

   So, our lesson from this donkey is that we should be willing to release valuable assets for our Lord’s use.

   But what about that other donkey?

Image from Pinterest

I refer you to Numbers 22: 21-31 in which Balaam is riding his donkey until the donkey sees an angel of the Lord wielding a sword. The donkey will go no further. Balaam beats his donkey. So the donkey goes on until he sees an angel standing in a narrow path that led to vineyards. He stops again. Balaam, trying to show who's boss, beats him again. And then a third time this happened and the donkey says…“What have I done to you to make you beat me these three times?”

Balaam, seemingly not surprised at the fact of a talking donkey, responds  “You have made a fool of me! If only I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you right now.”

The donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your own donkey, which you have always ridden, to this day? Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?”

    Well, there are a lot of preaching perspectives regarding this episode such as:

1.     The Lord opened the donkey’s mouth…not the donkey of his own initiative.

2.     And, the Lord opened Balaam’s eyes so he could see what the donkey saw. Again, it was the prevenient grace of the Lord that accommodated Balaam.

But my point in this essay is this…

God very often provides grace and salvation in the most unexpected resources.

There…finally…Balaam’s donkey gets his fair share of fame!

Reflections on Psalm 19

 

photo credit: NASA,GOV

   The whole of Psalm 19 comes across as recognition of wonder and a request for the enabling of a proper response.

While many preachers will invoke the last verse before delivery of a sermon, it is clear that the verse “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer” is not really about preaching. It is truly about proper personal and social conduct as anyone goes through the day.

To paraphrase…” My goodness, what a great and wonderful day you have provided for me God. I will not take it for granted! Please nudge me to honor the wonder of this day by having good thoughts and good words for others.”

God, in his creative power, has provided a canvass for our artwork today.

Let’s paint upon that canvass great and wonderful creation of our own.

What great thoughts will you focus on today?

What encouraging words will you offer to others today?

 

Psalm 19 The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

2 Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.

3 There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.

4 Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun,

5 Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.

6 His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.

7 The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.

8 The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.

9 The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.

10 More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.

11 Moreover by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward.

12 Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults.

13 Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me: then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent from the great transgression.

14 Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.

Frank Sandlin: Mischief, Humor, Adventure!

 

all photos provided by Corinne Sandlin Larson

A belated tribute to Frank Sandlin who passed away September 21, 2007

If ever Frank Sandlin attempted to hide his “cat that ate the canary” smile, his lips betrayed him in the most devilish manner.

Frank always carried a smile that indicated he had some recent humorous story to report, or soon would have. These stories were emphatically punctuated with chuckles most contagious!

I worked with Frank at Concord schools from 1988 until 1999. He and I worked each and every high school basketball game together. The kids from Ox Bow Elementary school, where he worked as a custodian, would get his attention “Hi Frank!” And Frank would respond with some comment relating to some event of the last week. “Did they make you stay after school?” and other such replies were common from Frank.

He was for sure popular!

Ready for the Oscars!

Very good-natured and well liked by students and teachers, Frank developed a favorable reputation as someone to be proud to call friend!

And, much as he was good-natured and a “nice guy” as teachers report, I wish to highlight his humor.

Those stories he would tell of his weekends, his trips to Sturgis, South Dakota, loaded with antics, adventures accentuated with periodic laughter would brighten up any work day or break time. Frank’s presence faithfully caused the work-boredom to give way to an entertained spirit.

His real-life persona was what movie directors seek to place on the big screen!

And that Harley! If it was anywhere around summer-time, his butt was on that bike! Yes, stories from Sturgis, the open road, Frank had many.

As that bike entered the parking lot of the school that engine announced the presence of pure entertainment for the work day!

Sure, Frank did the work of the day. But his real contribution was to remind everybody that he, and they, were much more than just agents of elbow grease. He stirred up within us that sense of being present in the moment and enjoying personal experience with his humor, his stories.

Frank was fun to be around!

Too bad the movie directors never met him! he would have had a wonderful career on that big screen.

But them again, I’m not sure that screen would have been big enough for his mischievous persona!

In remembrance and celebration of Frank, I invite you to read the brief memoir from his sister, Corinne, below.

 I remembered how Frank would run into someone he knew pretty much wherever we went, especially in Elkhart but in other cities and states too. Shortly after we graduated from high school, we took a road trip to Florida and stopped at a random campground along the way, and Frank saw someone he knew staying at that campground. Another time we went to Ohio to go to a concert and stopped at a restaurant off the highway and I heard someone shout, “Hey, Frank!” across the dining room. When I lived in Denver, Frank came out one year for Christmas. After the family left, we decided to do some sightseeing. As we were driving up Pike’s Peak, I asked him if he thought he might run into someone he knew at the top of the mountain. He looked at me with that twinkle in his eye and said, “I don’t know, but if I do, I hope she’s good looking!” He did not know anyone that day, but he did take me to a biker bar and bought me a souvenir t-shirt. As it would turn out, that was our last trip together.

Gene Reece: Army Veteran and Honor Guard (and wife Vicki too!)

 

 

Gene Reece

  Imagine you are standing in an open campsite, far from the familiar roads, stores, churches, and conveniences of home and you witness a helicopter descending and dangling beneath it an ice cream truck!

    Gene Reece, Vietnam service Army veteran does not have to imagine. He remembers quite clearly and with a smile on his face as he told me of the incident during the late 1960s when he was serving in Vietnam.

patches

photos from the camp

Gene, proud volunteer for the Army, August 21, 1966-August 22, 1969, has other service stories, some describing actual combat, but that story about the ice cream truck is far too compelling to allow to be left un-shared. It is one of those images worthy of a scene in a movie. Yes, imagine a movie about the Vietnam War, the opening scene as movie title and production credits role and an Army helicopter lands an ice cream truck on a dry patch of ground, stirring up dust.

    Gene joined the Army to work in electronics. He wanted to serve in the signal corps. But, as happens in the chaos of war, his squad wound up in battle action in the Tet Offensive., with him as sergeant.

Gene was proud to serve and continues to be proud of that service.

I think we all should be proud of Gene for his willingness to be placed in such danger on behalf of America!

Gene continues to be faithful in service as he participates in funeral Honor Guard. He explains that each deceased service member, upon request of the family, gets a 21 gun salute.

Honor Guard

As I sometime officiate the funerals of service folk, I have seen the Honor Guard present, with great dignity, an American flag to the family.

Gene continues to bring honor, not only to himself and deceased service members, but also to the flag he defended during the 1960s!

   But you know, Gene looks good here because Vicki, his wife, does an excellent job of “putting him together!”

Gene and Vicki

   Vicki is very supportive of Gene and his activities.

Vicki serves as a smile-sporting greeter at the Willow Creek United Methodist Church in Mishawaka Indiana. She assists as a Communion steward and as prayer-chain coordinator.

Vicki hopes to greet you!

People like Gene and Vicki make things happen, hold things together, and pull things forward!

Let’s give a round of applause for Gene and Vicki!!!

In closing I would like to report that Gene said he and his whole camp had much fun eating ice cream upon the arrival of the truck in Vietnam during the 1960s!

In Honor of Martin K Speckter, Inventer of the Interrobang

 

Interrobang invented by Martin Speckter

Thanks to retired English Teacher, Ella Reff and software engineer, LaRita Robinson I am aware of the interrobang!

The interrobang is defined by Merriam-Webster:” Definition

: a punctuation mark  designed for use especially at the end of an exclamatory rhetorical question.”

 It was invented in 1962 by Martin K Speckter who passed away on February 14, 1988.

When asked if he was serious about his invention of punctuation, he would reply

 “ Somewhat more seriously than Elizabeth Taylor and slightly less so than Khrushchev.”

   The discovery of his intriguing response was the funnest part of my research about him. I shall contemplate using that sentence as a response when I am asked about my earnestness of statements!

   I wonder if he really intended his interrobang rather than a period following the name of the Soviet Premier?!

Having not the interrobang punctuation key on my keypad, I was confined to the conventional style to indicate punctuation-intent.

  I drew much information for this post from: http://alphabettenthletter.blogspot.com/2012/01/creator-martin-k-speckter.html

The Incidental Inspiration of Barnaby Rudge

 

In February 1971, English class, 9^th grade, Concord, I checked out of the school library “Barnaby Rudge” by Charles Dickens as the book upon which I would write a report. I guess the teacher figured that if it were in the school library, it would be an acceptable read.

    Surely the subject material was appropriate. But the difficulty of read would challenge college level British literature majors, I presumed.

Yet, I continued.

You see, having read the first paragraph, and referring to a dictionary many times to discover meanings of some words such as “wont” and “yeoman”, it occurred to me that the whole of the paragraph was one sentence! And so, purely for fun, I began contemplating the structure of that sentence to see how it held together, developed an idea, and left an image in mind.

This sentence made me a Dickens fan. But more importantly, it made me appreciate and enjoy the English language, grammar, and punctuation.

I offer that first paragraph below in italics…

 

In the year 1775, there stood upon the borders of Epping Forest, at a distance of about twelve miles from London—measuring from the Standard in Cornhill, or rather from the spot on or near to which the Standard used to be in days of yore—a house of public entertainment called the Maypole; which fact was demonstrated to all such travellers as could neither read nor write (and at that time a vast number both of travellers and stay-at-homes were in this condition) by the emblem reared on the roadside over against the house, which, if not of those goodly proportions that Maypoles were wont to present in olden times, was a fair young ash, thirty feet in height, and straight as any arrow that ever English yeoman drew."

In my study of that sentence I counted : eight commas, 2 dashes,1 semi colon, one pair of parentheses. And , concluding, one period.

Thus began my career as an English sentence hobbyist.

Of course I have ventured into poetry, short stories, essays, but my most fun has been derived from taking an event, image, or thought and seeing how much narrative detail and device of punctuation I can apply to one sentence in description of that chosen object.

I have been accused of composing run-on sentences. To which I reply, “Thank you”.

My compositions have been met with raised eye brow, thereby affirming my esteem and intent.

I have been erroneously “corrected” wherefore I, in self-defense, offered the legitimacy of my sentence.

I have been legitimately corrected, and, subsequently, and sincerely offered gratitude to my corrector.

    Of course, I do not claim to have the command of language as did Dickens. I merely enjoy composing such silliness as follows…

“Why acquiesce to one perfectly adequate word when a second superfluous synonym can decorate the sentence with a charming grandiosity, however otherwise redundant it may be?"

That sentence describes quite accurately my philosophy of the matter of the conveyance of thought by word and punctuation.

    Well, for class in 1971, I did not finish the book which ran on for more than six hundred pages. And I paid little attention to the plot or its resolution. So I based my report on the structures of chosen sentences and paragraphs.

Here, fifty years later, I have checked out the book once again, this time from the Elkhart Public Library. I think I will read it for plot, finally.

Baby Boomers Having Difficulty Letting Go of the Cultural Car Keys

 

Fair use photo from Wikipedia

    Being a baby boomer myself, I always felt that radio music, television shows, fashion, and most other cultural aspects were designed to appeal to my generation.

   During the 1960s we had television shows such as Bewitched, Gilligan’s Island, I Dream of Jeannie, and my favorite…Johnny Quest. CKLW in Windsor/Detroit and WLS in Chicago played Beatles. Our age demographic controlled American culture!

   On February 1 1971 the Osmonds had the number 1 song at WLS.

“One bad apple don't
Spoil the whole bunch, girl
Oh, give it one more try
Before you give up on love

One bad apple don't
Spoil the whole bunch, girl”

 

The 1960s and early 1970s were a time of AM superstations like WLS which played a variety of hit sounds. Along with Iron Butterfly heavy metal and Tom Jones ballads groups like the Osmonds, the Jacksons, and even the contrived Archies held proper place on the charts and airwaves.

We listened on our battery operated transistor radios carried along much like smart phones today. We knew that our classmates would be listening to the same station, hearing the same songs played and we felt a sense of immediate community though we were not in presence or sight of each other. As we heard the songs we mentally recorded questions and comments we would share with our friends upon later meeting up with them.

   Likewise for television, since there were only three major networks to watch there was a very good chance that our classmates had seen the same shows over the weekend and therefore would have something to talk about at lunch-time at school on Monday.

   But, as AM superstations gave way to more localized FM stations that specialized in a particular genre, as cable television gave more options to viewing preferences, we baby boomers began losing our synchronized and outsized impact on culture.

    As younger generations exert influence on culture with their different musical and viewing tastes, we baby boomers feel much like our grandparents must have felt “That’s not music, that’s just noise!”, “They wouldn’t let smut like that be on television in my day!”

   Alas, it appears that American culture is for each generation to decide for itself. We baby boomers can no more impose upon younger generations what is and is not proper cultural norm any more than our parents tried to impose upon us.

I expect that as it happened for our predecessors, we boomers will increasingly become frustrated and uncomfortable with the prevailing tastes of the younger generations. We will feel detached. And what I think will irritate us the most is that we will be considered irrelevant.

Butcha know what! Periodically I run upon some young wait-staff person at a restaurant that names a 1960s singer or group as their favorite musical interest. Maybe we baby boomers really did set in cultural stone some undeniable and absolute classics that transcend subsequent generational whim. Yes…that’s what I’m going with!

Promoting my Al Capone story "The Unexpected Roommate"

 

Guilty verdict of Al Capone from National Archives

As Monday, January 25 is the anniversary of the death (1947) of Al Capone, I thought it might be fun for you to read my humor-lined fictional story about how a personal detective happened upon an old hotel on a stormy night and, as a result of spending the night there, was greeted, and ultimately financially enriched by the ghost of Al Capone.

I provide an excerpt…

 

   The male figure stopped, took a moment to assess the situation, and spoke calmly. “It’s been a while since there was a guest in this room. Besides me, I mean. What’s your name?”

   Charles was hoping to be the interviewer, asking the questions, but since the figure had preempted him, there was value in answering as well. “Charles. Charles Roy.” He felt obliged to deliver the fuller name.

The figure continued “Well, I’m Alfonse. Alfonse Capone.” The figure imitated Charles’ pattern of identification with a mischievous smile.

Scribbling almost legible notes in his journal, Charles pressed “Al Capone…of Chicago? Do you live here?”

“Live isn’t really the right word for it, Charles. But it does seem that I am a guest in perpetuity. Hey, usually the guest is outta here by now, screaming and leaving their things behind. You dead too?”

 

Celebrate, acknowledge, observe or otherwise mark January 25 as a significant moment in history by reading “ The Unexpected Roommate”

Which is one of a few stories in the digital book entitled

 “Preposterous Scenarios: Gathered Stories, Poems, and Memoirs”

available at Amazon.com as a digital download for $2.99.

What's Your Real Sabbath?

 

Yes, I attempt to observe a Sabbath. Usually my Sabbath is on Thursday. But, in full disclosure, or confession, Thursday is my technically observed, yet insincere Sabbath merely to be compliant with and in appeasement to peers and others who think they know what’s best for others.

    My real, restful, rejuvinative Sabbath is my practice of creative writing. I think most artists and writers will agree that one cannot schedule creativity to unveil itself on some predetermined day of the week.

Creativity emerges as the convergence of many informative and inspiring impulses that resist being told when and how to disclose their fruits.

    My real Sabbath, my creative writing, can happen anytime. And when it does, I become fully entertained by the task of word choice, sentence structure, and idea development until I reach the point of intellectual saturation with the project.

In my Sabbath I do not aspire toward professional stature. I wish to amuse, if only myself, by constructing sentences which, while grammatically correct, result in a raised eye-brow or whispered chuckle.

I offer the following example...

“It’s” is the proper contraction for “it is”. It’s often confused with “its” which is the possessive form of it. You will probably use “it’s” more often than “its”, but it’s up to you. Its improper usage in print will likely be more obvious than in speech. It’s fun, give a few sentences.

In my Sabbath I compose memoirs that may connect with someone else and thereby ease their day, inspire or comfort them. I compose narratives which prompt the memories of others and nudge them toward their own creativity.

In My Sabbath I write stories and descriptions that, if not entertaining to others, will distract them from some temporary boredom.

   Having completed my creative project, I then feel Sabbath- restored. Only then, seldom on Thursdays, “is it well with my soul”.

Incidentally, this particular narrative was composed on a Thursday.

Beatles For Sale...A Personal Memoir

 

I no longer have my original 1964 UK vinyl

I am sure any Beatles fan will agree that when asked which album is their favorite a certain bewildering panic sets in as if we must choose between which child to save. As soon as one album is determined the others will haunt the mind with doubt and second guessing.

   Each of the albums contain moments of excellence, surprise, unique achievement of technical expertise, mystique and elements that connect the album to some moment in our lives.

Highly as I regard all of the albums, my choice as favorite is Beatles For Sale.

Each time I listen to the album I am reconnected with my nine-year old self and remember the innocence of the moment and my optimism for the future.

I will describe my impressions of the album later.

But for the moment allow me to recall the event of my having come into possession of it in its original release when I was nine years old.

Being an enthusiast since seeing them on the Ed Sullivan show, I was compelled to own each album as released in the UK.

    My step-father, George Eckenrode, was kind and generous enough to accommodate my childish taste in what he considered an ephemeral phenomenon empty of any authentic musical value. His idea of music worthy of an intelligent person was Frank Sinatra or perhaps Andy Williams. Oh, I should not forget Petula Clark in whom we both agreed was great talent.

George was always trying to show kindness. Knowing that I preferred the UK version of the album over the American version “Beatles 65” he drove me and my mom from Detroit into Windsor Ontario one Saturday in December 1964 so as to purchase the record. Canada always released the UK versions before the American version was available in the United States.

George knew of an independent record store in Windsor.

I felt pretty important I tell you that we visited a different country to make this purchase. I would have the UK version before any of my friends would have even the US version.

In the store and on the sidewalk toward the car I held the album as if I had discovered the map of the whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant. The album carried an almost sacred effect.

We then went to a restaurant in Windsor to enjoy a celebratory dinner.

As we waited for our dinners to be delivered I could no longer wait to open the album to hold in my hand. I pulled the vinyl from its paper sleeve. I carefully held it between the palms of my hands allowing the light from the suspended incandescent globes to reflect off of the shiny blackness. I read the labels, front and back. Each title, word, letter, font imprinted upon my mind an anticipation of the sounds that they announced.

    This was quite a Christmas gift! I considered not only possession of the album, but also the visit to Windsor, the atmosphere of the record store, and also the dinner as perhaps the best Christmas gift I had ever received.

I was familiar with “Eight Days A Week” as that was the song played on CKLW radio station. But the other titles grabbed my imagination. What would they sound like…what would be the subject? I could hardly wait to place the album on my turntable and gently place the diamond needle on the fresh stereophonic vinyl.

And then, when I did, auditory excellence painted every surface and substance of the room, including my eagerly embracing intellect.

And so, I shall, from imprinted memory, try to describe my impressions which linger and reverberate over the past fifty-six years.

The most dominant impression was the intensely precise quality of the vocals. The melodies and harmonies, given much echo and fullness, seemed to contain more fullness of presence than previous recordings. Acoustic guitar chords mixed with electric sound and soft timpani punctuation introduced me to a deeper appreciation of studio technique and promise of what yet may be to come in the future.

   As the vinyl revolved on the turntable the music seemed to levitate from the surface of the album and circle around the room in much more than mere stereophonic effect. But perhaps I use psychedelic description before it’s due for the group.

Whatever description, Beatles For Sale continues to be my favorite.

The vocals, the echo affect, the precision of recording gave me the impression of a group very mature in their talents and strength of composition with more impact than the “bubblegum” level talent and product of other groups.

   The lyrics addressed some fresh topics and feelings. They also seemed well written and welcoming of a new audience.

Perhaps that was the greatest talent of the group, each succeeding album provided invitation and relevance to a wider audience to entertain, intrigue, and convert.

The Beatles, much more than an ephemeral phenomenon of 1964, continue to inspire succeeding generations of fans and those who are curious as to their cultural longevity.

Amen, Creational Authority, and Faithful Service

 

I periodically assert to my congregations that “amen” is much more than just a concluding punctuation point. The word “amen” is understood, roughly, as “so be it”, or “may it be”, or “truly”.

   I propose this; Rather than use amen as a “quit claim deed” regarding the issues, concerns, and petitions we have uttered to God, consider it the creation of a joint venture between God and ourselves in which we both take action on those petitions.

    Allow the sentiment of amen to be an invitation to God to attend to these uttered issues in His capacity and wisdom while we also, in partnership with God, do what we can regarding concerns spoken.

    God has created us in his image; he has blessed us with spiritual gifts, enabled us with cognitive capabilities, and trusted us with the faithful stewardship of all of His creation. That is a generous sharing of creational authority by   God.

    Our response to this sharing of creational authority should be faithful, diligent, enthusiastic, and active.

    I encourage you to look for opportunities where you can respond to improve someone’s condition, for situations of conflict where you can contribute peace and reconciliation, to display active hope in the midst of trials and sufferings rather than passive surrender to cynicism and futility.

   Rather than abdicate our role in creational authority, let us embrace it and be found good and faithful servants.

Hey, Let's Not Forget About Epiphany!

 

    Concurrent with Black Friday and the many days until December 25 each year is accompanied with the incessant play of Christmas music from radio stations, decoration of temporary and  domestic trees, and wrapping of gifts.

   And then Christmas Day arrives and folk quickly turn on their celebratory  heels to prepare for New Years Day, Super Bowl, Valentines Day and other celebrations punctuating a calendar of otherwise common or ordinary days.

   Epiphany, January 6^th, the 13^th day after Christmas, is quite a meaningful day of celebration to me personally. I have always been intrigued by this report n the Gospel of Matthew regarding Magi from the East. Though there are extra-Biblical accounts of from where and precisely who those men were, the Matthew report remains vague as to such details.

    The scenario that tickles my intellectual fancy is that these star-gazers probably were from the land that once impolitely hosted the Scribes, Priests, and academic class of the Hebrew people decades or centuries earlier.

    I further venture that the predecessors of those star-gazers in Matthew had conversed over coffee or tea with the Hebrew captives about theology, God, and their Scripture and recorded their interviews for use by subsequent generations of Magi.

    Though the Matthew report remains vague regarding the precise identities or nation of origin, it brings forth some remarkable ideas.

    One such idea is that God used the religion and practice of the Magi to lead them to Christ. God did not exclude them from this glory on the basis that they were of a different religion. God prepared them and directed them by use of what star-grazers would naturally look toward for guidance.

    This point can encourage us regarding evangelism, or sharing of faith with those who are of other faiths or of no faith. Be in discussion with folk, share your faith story. Though they may not immediately respond, those who are intentionally seeking will find guidance.

    Another idea regards the gifts presented. Bible scholars and theologians, and I have read many, speculate much as to the meaning of those specified gifts. I like the idea that those gifts were of sufficient economic value as to make provision for Mary and Joseph, poor as they were, to escape to Egypt. Again, though the report does not state where in Egypt they went, I tend to think it was the City of Alexandria. The city was an economic and intellectually progressive city. Perhaps this is where Jesus was educated, again, financed by those gifts of the Magi, and so learned much to take back to his hometown.

    Perhaps the most important idea regarding the Matthew report with its lack of details about the persons or identities of the Magi is the fact that outsiders, sometimes with much enabling gift to offer, are invited to worship out of sincerity as God has prompted them. 

    As this Epiphany approaches anticipate that God has been at work prompting folk to seek Jesus. They may be of different cultures, languages, religions, nations, or colors.  Let us take care not to ignore or dismiss them. Let us, like Joseph and Mary, receive them and feel blessed by them. They and the gifts they bring can enable our ministries, personal and congregational.

In conclusion…Happy Epiphany!

It's Advent: Be on the Lookout for Angels

 

 

picture by Shana Dines of Elkhart 2014
You can find out more about Shana at:
https://ealonline.org/featured-artist-shana-dines/

Luke 2: 15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

Some things to consider…

1.     Angels told shepherds about the birth before priests, before kings, before  anyone else.

2.     The shepherds, in humility and joy, recognized the angels as messengers of the Lord.

3.     Upon receiving this divine revelation they were eager to respond and go on the adventure.

As we continue through Advent and approach Christmas, as we prepare our hearts, not only for the family get-togethers and gifts, but also for some sacred impact upon our souls, let’s be like shepherds.

    Let’s accept that wherever we are angels visit us. During Covid 19 we may feel much like the shepherds…some kind of outcasts in fields of loneliness. Know that you are valued highly.

  Like the shepherds let us be sensitive to the angels speaking to us. We do this by prayer and taking time to “Be still and know God”.

Let us eagerly respond in our souls to take a new and fresh spiritual adventure.

I know we have experienced many years of Christmas. Sometimes in all the hustle and bustle we become “bah, humbug” about it.

But as we listen to Christmas music, gaze upon ornaments, remember our loved ones who have gone on, let’s know that we are not left behind…not really. We are visited by angels of divine proclamation, grace, and encouragement.

Let us then anticipate something wonderful!

Eric Settles, Proud Pilot

 

 

first solo flight 12/17/2019

 

I am particularly proud to announce that as of Thursday, December 3. 2020, my son, Eric Settles, gained his pilot’s license at Goshen Municipal Airport- GSH. His FAA Examiner wrote on his report “nice touch…beautiful flying.”

   Eric was surely pleased. This has been a goal of his since his first airplane flight when he was 8 or 9 years old.

   Since his childhood he has been passionately interested in flight, airplanes, and the airline industry. I believe he told me that while in college one of his business class reports was of an airline industry incident.

    On December 17, 2019 he experienced his first solo flight.

    You know how it is when you set goals for yourself and life has a way of trying to sabotage your steps toward those goals. We have work to attend to, college, family concerns that interrupt our plans.

          Congratulations to my son, Eric, for sticking with it and making a dream come true.

   As a gesture of celebration, my wife, Sherry Borglum, found this 1974 vintage belt buckle to present as a gift in celebration.

vintage belt buckle

   Now we wonder what may be the next step…?

 

My favorite part of the Christmas story is found in Matthew 2: 1-12.

We are told that wise men, or kings, or star-gazers, came from the East to worship the new born King.

   We celebrate the arrival of these wise men on January 6, 2020. We call it Epiphany.

   Now personally, I think these “wise men” were indeed astrologers of their day who came from the land where the Israelites had been carried off to generations ago. I imagine the astrologers (priests) having coffee with the scribes and priests of the Israelites and discussing theology and other such things.

Perhaps this is how the wise men knew to be anticipating a king or Messiah.

But wherever from they came, the story mentions a plural “wise men”. It does not say three. There could have been two, there could have been many more.

It does say they brought gifts and three are named. It is likely they brought other gifts as well.

   But the thing I want to affirm here is that perhaps your church, like many, over time has lost one of the wise men set. Maybe you have only two left.

You are still faithful to the story because the story merely says “wise men”…not a specific “three”.

So relax, be not embarrassed. If anyone says anything, just tell them Mike claims only two wise men!

And, by the way…it is perfectly fine to keep your Christmas decorations up until Epiphany which is the conclusion of the twelve days of Christmas!

Caring for Neighbor as Advent/Christmas Worship

So here we are about to enter the Advent/ Christmas season doing church virtually, online, streaming rather than in person. Yes, I understand that this disruption of church tradition is disappointing. But it causes me to question…”What are the fundamental aspects of being a Christian…a Jesus follower.” As I read the gospel in which I see the modeling of Christ for how we are to conduct ourselves in the world, I read no call to have elaborate services celebrating his birth, or arrival of Magi from the East. There is no provision for lighting a series of candles over a four week period. Now for sure, I love the Church Calendar. Yes, I do find it helpful toward bringing order to the church and how we can find creative ways to worship. But the church calendar comes to us from tradition rather than anything Jesus taught. If we replace the teachings and modeling of Jesus as found in the Gospels with tradition-based “feel-good” moments of Christmas and even Easter, we reach toward a sort of idolatry that is actually self-serving rather than neighbor-serving. Jesus taught compassion and healing, not how to decorate a tree. Jesus taught a sincerity of, rather than a showmanship of, prayer and charity. Jesus taught surrender of one’s will for God and neighbor, not how to demand familiar customs as a way of making a political statement. These next few weeks, let’s not focus on the disruption of our familiar patterns of worship. Let’s realize the truth…that being a Christian, calling Jesus Lord and meaning it invites us to love our neighbors, pray for our enemies, heal the lame, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked. This year we have the opportunity to preserve the health of our neighbors by merely limiting our physical contact with them. Allow me to insinuate Luke 16: 10 “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much."  I believe our humble actions of neighbor-care will satisfy God as worship far more than well-planned and orchestrated Advent and Christmas Eve extravaganzas.

 

Lake James

Usually when Sherry and I stay at Pokagon State Park we request one of the Old Historic rooms to be in. Unfortunately, since we are in November, the air conditioning had been turned off for the season and the heat turned on. Our room, along with everyone else, was uncomfortable. Windows in the Old Historic Section were open, an unusual sight for November.

   Having no more portable fans to accommodate us, they moved us to one of the cabin 68 with individual air conditioning at no extra charge. My goodness, did we luck out!

cabin 68

    To arrive at cabin 68, we drove across a one-car bridge that crossed over the toboggan run tracks.

the 1-car bridge across tracks

Toboggan Tracks

   But, we had, not only air conditioning, but also a very personal and close view of Lake James.

The fox seemed almost domesticated as he paused long enough for me to take a photo.

Well-posed fox

   Sherry and I have been visiting Pokagon for 16 years now. This time we had some quite new experiences!