High Pockets

November 8, 2017

Claire Phillips was an entertainer who landed in Manila in the late ‘30’s just before the Pacific War broke out. She opened a club where she entertained Japanese soldiers and officers, relaying messages and smuggling food, medicines, and money to guerrilla fighters in the mountains of the Philippines. Eventually betrayed, she spent nine months in various prisons, enduring beatings, starvation, and torture before being liberated by the Americans. 

She recounted her adventures in a book entitled “High Pockets,” her code name taken from her device of hiding messages in her bra. After reading her memoir, I found photos of her online. Petite and pretty, she was also fearless, refusing to betray those who had depended on, and trusted her. I have often wondered if I would break under similar conditions. I don’t know. 

Countless individuals have suffered and died horribly rather than betray friends or faith. This world is a better place because of them. I recently read a meme on Facebook that went something like this: “In 1944, nineteen-year olds stormed the beaches of Normandy. In 2017, nineteen-year olds need a safe space because their feelings got hurt.” Courage seems to be in short supply these days when mob bullying and shouting down speakers with whom one disagrees is fast becoming the norm. I am grateful tonight for those with the courage of their convictions who encourage me by their integrity to stand for what is right, no matter what others may say or do.

Minor Troubles

November 7, 2017

Tonight was cleanup time. After a quick trip to town for Operation Christmas Child supplies, Linda and I stopped by son Nathan’s house. The bridge at the end of their driveway got clogged with debris from the storm Sunday night, causing the creek to back up and flow through their yard. There was about two feet of water in their basement yesterday morning when I went over to help. By tonight, it had all subsided, draining through the cellar walls and floor into the surrounding gravel and leaving behind floating totes, soggy file cabinets, and quite possibly, a toasted furnace. 

Linda helped sort the things they had managed to carry upstairs, while I swept and carried debris to be thrown out. After only a couple hours, what had looked like a minor disaster was pretty well cleaned up.

Ever since we moved in here, out behind our house in the bend in the creek, a sizable gravel bank sloped down from the yard and extended about fifteen yards towards the far bank. We had a fire pit with lawn chairs underneath a canopy of trees at the upper edge of the gravel. It is all gone, leaving a three foot drop off to a pool of water three to four foot deep where the kids used to wade across without getting their knees wet. The shale waterfall at Sunnyside has been cut back about ten feet from where it had been. Who knows where those slabs are now? Though the water rose into our back yard, the cellar was only slightly more damp than usual. Who would have guessed?

All in all, it was a relatively minor matter. No lives were lost; the damage was minimal; it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. Last month hurricanes devastated Puerto Rico and Cuba, and caused widespread damage up the gulf coast of Florida. Before that, Texas was battered. Lives were lost, entire homes swept away. And just two days ago, a small Texas congregation was devastated by an evil man bent on murder. Our troubles are few, for which I am grateful. We continue to pray for and contribute to those who lost so much more, humbled by the grace of God which spared us undeservedly. 

The Evil Within

November 6, 2017

It’s not a pretty picture. Yesterday, a gunman opened fire in a Texas church, killing 26 parishioners and wounding another 20. Almost before the last round was fired, the politicking and blaming began as the talking heads wondered out loud what might have motivated the killer to do what he did. No one asking these questions considers the potential for evil within themselves. It’s always “out there,” “someone else,” a secular holier than thou attitude. 

One of the consequences of our culture having rejected the Judeo-Christian worldview is that in doing so, we have also rejected our capacity to understand and address the root causes of evil. We wonder how such things could happen, what would cause someone to commit such depraved acts. A Christian doesn’t have this problem. We understand as St. Augustine understood, the reality of Original Sin; that human beings are not innately good. 

Eugene Peterson, the translator of “The Message,” a popular paraphrase of the Bible, is also a pastor who writes for pastors. He says that one of the problems pastors have is that we have ceased to believe our doctrines. If we believe that our people are basically good, when they act like the sinners they are, we are surprised, then we get angry. “It’s impossible to minister to people out of anger,” he declares. If however, we understand that people are sinners, when they act like it, we can take it in stride, and when they act like saints, we can be pleasantly surprised.

I don’t think we should go around thinking of people in the worst possible terms. I always look for the best in people, but have learned my doctrine well enough that I don’t get put off when the worst comes out. When we believe the Biblical account of human nature, we acknowledge the reality of radical evil that exists in all of us, but we also recognize the possibility of salvation and transformation. The secular commentator encounters these events and is puzzled. Worst, there is no possibility or hope of transformation. Life lurches from one tragedy to another, with short respite in between, but with no hope that it can truly be different.

The issue for me is to remember that the problem of evil is not “out there.” It is “in here,” within my own heart. Whenever a person recognizes this, the door to change is kicked open. That doesn’t mean everyone will take advantage of the power of Christ to change their lives, but until we adopt this basic understanding of life, there is little potential for genuine transformation.

My thoughts tonight certainly don’t assuage the grief of the families torn apart by this evil. They don’t change the evil that lurks within human hearts. But the first step to solving a problem is to recognize it for what it really is. The evil that reared its ugly head in Texas is still evil. But the victims of it understand as most do not, that evil for the Christian does not have the final say. That belongs to Jesus Christ, who tells us, “In this world you shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

Storms

November 5, 2017

William Barclay was a Scottish pastor, scholar, and professor who is best known for his New Testament commentary, the Daily Study Bible. The night before his daughter was to be married, she and her fiancee took a rowboat out on the loch for some quiet time following the wedding rehearsal. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but the boat overturned and they both drowned. Instead of a wedding, Dr. Barclay had to officiate at a funeral. Later, as he was teaching and writing his commentary, he came to the story of Jesus calming the storm. One of his students asked if he really believed that at the command of Jesus the storm stilled. “I cannot prove that Jesus calmed the storm on that sea,” he replied. “But I know that he calmed the storm in my heart.”

It’s an unusual November 5th; instead of snow, it’s raining with flashes of lightning and peals of thunder echoing through the hills. The creek behind our house is raging, swollen almost to the banks. It’s been a stormy day. 

Storms can be a frightful thing. Unrelenting rain soaks the earth causing mudslides, and rivers overflow their banks causing flooding with loss of property and life. If you’ve ever been caught in a flood, you develop an instant appreciation for the power of the water. Years ago, my sons and I were caught in a snowstorm while crossing a lake in Canada. In a canoe. The wind whipped the waves into whitecaps that washed over the gunwales, threatening to swamp or overturn us. In that cold water, we all would have perished. 

And yet, the same God who in Jesus calmed the storm is the one who caused it. In Psalm 18, we read,

“The earth trembled and quaked, and the foundations of the mountains shook; they trembled because he was angry.

Smoke rose from his nostrils; consuming fire came from his mouth, burning coals blazed out of it.

He parted the heavens and came down; dark clouds were under his feet.

He mounted the cherubim and flew; he soared on the wings of the wind.

He made darkness his covering, his canopy around him—the dark rain clouds of the sky.

Out of the brightness of his presence clouds advanced, with hailstones and bolts of lightning.

The LORD thundered from heaven; the voice of the Most High resounded.

He shot his arrows and scattered the enemy, with great bolts of lightning he routed them.

God is not always the God of peace and calm. Sometimes he stirs things up. I don’t always like it when he does, but I’ve learned that in the storm, I am not in control. It’s all I can do to stay afloat. Storms force me to lean hard on God. The time will come when Jesus calms the storm, but until then, sometimes the storm is God’s gift for which I am still learning to give thanks.

Tension

November 4, 2017

At a wedding I attended (note: “attended,” not “officiated!” That’s a switch!) today, the pastor in his homily to the couple spoke of the importance of tension in a marriage. He quoted an older man who once told him that tension in a marriage is not a sign that something’s wrong; it’s a sigh that something’s happening. The pastor kept talking about how that works out in a healthy marriage, but my mind kept spinning around the idea of tension.

I’m no great shakes at being a musician, but it doesn’t take a maestro to understand the importance of tension in music. Any stringed instrument depends on tension; without it, it’s impossible to make a sound. It’s the tension that when the string is plucked or hit, sets up the waves that make the sound. The more tension is applied, the higher the pitch that sounds. Tension is absolutely essential to make music. There’s more to it than that, but tension is the foundation of it all.

If more strings are added, all at different tensions, it is possible to have them vibrating in a pleasing manner, producing harmony. If the tensions are mismatched, there will instead be dissonance. It’s like that in a marriage, too. Two different people who are trying to get close to each other will encounter tension. If not, one of them is unnecessary, or they aren’t trying to get close. The issue is not the tension, but whether or not they are seeking harmony in the different notes they are playing. Apart from intentionally tuning their individual strings to each other, they will only produce noise. But when they tune their different strings to each other, there is beautiful harmony. And when Christ is present in the home, the three part harmony can be absolutely heavenly. So Tony and Erin, tighten your strings till they sing, then adjust them to each other so your life together will be a symphony of love and grace for all to hear.

Staying Human

November 3, 2017

One of the best things anyone can do for themselves is to surround themselves with quality people. I am blessed to have dozens of them all around me. This morning for the first time, the men outnumbered the women in our writer’s group. Seven men to four women. Going around the table for our accountability time, Helen commented on how few quality children’s books with a Christian message exist. I talked about how I need to make some choices; I don’t have the time nor talent to be good at numerous things. When it came to Don, he had been taking notes, and offered some wisdom. Helen, he said, writes well enough to be the one to fill that niche in children’s books. As to my comment on focus, he talked of his artist wife, who will work in pastels one day, oils another, and watercolor in still another; unless she chooses pottery. In his words, she lets the work call to her. “Let the work call to you,” he advised. I LOVE this group!

At band rehearsal today, I realized as never before that I’m not, and never will be, much of a bassoonist. My notes were squawky, and at times wouldn’t even sound. On the string bass however, I continue to get compliments on my admittedly rudimentary playing. I can take a hint. Again, I am surrounded by good people whose talent and dedication to their music makes my life better. 

Finally, this evening, while Linda went to granddaughter Abi’s last swim meet and watched her and her younger sister set a school record in the 200 freestyle relay, I took granddaughter Eliza to watch her cousin Mattie in her class play, then treated them both to ice cream at Friendly’s. Listening to their chatter as they piled into my pickup, and their songs all the way home, took the evening over the top.

I am an introvert by nature, but after nearly 70 years, I’ve begun to understand the value of surrounding myself with good people. I like my alone time, but I treasure the people who by their humanity keep me human. They teach me what life and love is all about by taking me outside of myself and inviting me into their world. Life without them would be void of meaning, a dull and dreary place. The good news is, my life is not without them; I live it with them, and only hope I am in some way filling their hearts as they do mine.

A Single Mind

November 2,  2017

Ron Carter is perhaps the premier jazz bassist in the world, with over 2,000 recordings to his credit. He secured his fame playing with the Miles Davis Quintet in the 60’s, and at the age of 80 is on the faculty of the famed Juilliard School of Music. A few years ago, in a master class at Loyola University he demonstrated his craft and then talked about it. At one point he was asked if he ever wanted to play another instrument. He responded that he would like to know how to play guitar, but couldn’t afford to spend the time on it. “I don’t want to be a Jack of all Trades; I just want to be a decent bass player.” This, from a man who has devoted his life to the instrument, and who could play circles around most who have picked up the instrument.

One of the things that distinguishes a true master from the rest of us is singleminded devotion. Most of us are content to be that Jack of all Trades, dabbling a bit in this and a bit in that. We seek balance in life, whereas those who rise to a more stratified level of performance are usually a bit unbalanced. They have to be in order to attain the perfection they seek. St. Paul once said that there was “one thing I do…I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13-14). That one thing encompassed a lot of detail, but it gave a focus to his life that most of us never attain in our desire to not appear too radical or unbalanced.

One of the most difficult challenges I face is saying “no.” There are so many things that interest me that I want to try them all. Deliberately setting some things aside so as to devote myself to what I believe to be important is not easy. But it is necessary. In the band, I play two instruments badly. If I want to be even reasonably proficient, I’m going to have to choose between them. The same goes for life, especially life with God. Allowing lesser things to capture my time and attention will by necessity limit what I say is most important. If a relationship with Christ is as important as I say it is, it will be reflected in how I choose to spend my time. I can spend my time with social media or with God in prayer, Bible study, and reflection. I can invest time in purely selfish pursuits or give myself to serving others. But there is no way I can possibly do it all. Tonight I am grateful for a jazz bassist who taught me not just about music, but also about life.