Masks

If tonight is like most Halloweens we won't see many trick-or-treaters at our house.  We live on a busy road, no sidewalk, and there are other neighborhoods where kids can more easily get a haul of candy.  Usually the ones who stop by are friends who make a special effort to ring our doorbell.  Kathy and I enjoy seeing the youngsters all decked out.  Generally, in spite of their masks, we know exactly who they are.

Masks are common these days, and it's not just because of Halloween.  The political season is also going full-bore.  Every candidate who is anybody at all has a cadre of handlers who try to make sure that their candidate is never seen or heard without the "benefit" of a mask.  These consultants and their counsel remind me of a cynical comment that I heard attributed to the late George Burns, "People are impressed with sincerity.  If you learn to fake that, you've got it made."  Pollsters, and consultants stick their fingers into the breeze of popular opinion and then try to make their candidate appear to be what they think the public wants them to be.  The right clothes, being seen in the right place, having an adoring (often another level of mask wearing) spouse by their side--cute kids/grandkids don't hurt, and even sporting the right haircut are seen as essential elements of politics.  In other words--spoken with an element of cynicism--wear the right mask, in such a way that it appears to not be a masquerade, and you will get elected.  

I find it interesting that much of what politicians are trying to appear to be (I'm not saying there are no sincere politicians, but I am speaking of them as a group.), is what we as God's people ought to be in reality.

• Honest
• Sincere
• Compassionate
• Responsible
• Courageous

It is common for folk to rhetorically cry out, "Take the mask off!"  Let's think about that one.  Maybe the shock will be too great.  Perhaps we ought to say, "Become something fit to see, then take the mask off."

It's STTA.

Where is your treasure, now?

Last night I had a wonderful time with a group of guys in our Prayer Meeting (We are open to ladies joining us, it is just that there is a meeting parallel with Prayer Meeting where we guys aren't welcome, so the Wednesday evening prayer and Bible study time tends to be mostly male.  Last night we discussed Matthew 6:19-24.   It begins with Jesus command/counsel about where to put our treasure.  We can put it down here, which Jesus says we shouldn't do, because down here "moth and rust corrupts and thieves steal."  Or, we can put our treasure in a place where it will be secure, heaven.  Not only is that where Jesus says we should put our treasure, He gives us sound reasons for doing so.

It is interesting that my study of this passage of scripture coincided with a tragic happening in the life of a friend of mine.  My friend has a house that is temporarily empty.  He's done a lot of work on the house, getting it ready for someone to move into.   Included in the refurbishing is (or "was," now) new plumbing.  Just like the Lord Jesus warned, thieves broke in and stole.  Thousands of dollars worth damage and stolen plumbing netted someone hundreds of dollars worth of scrap, which has likely already been burnt up in the form of drugs.  My friend is hurt, but he knows clearly that "this world is not my home.  I'm just a passin' through."  I'm confident that he knows that his real treasures are above.

Jesus warned that how we view our stuff, what we treasure, and where our treasure is stored, will affect who we are, how we think and what we do.  If our treasure is on earth so will our heart be.  I think it is likely that Paul had the Lord Jesus' words in mind when he said, ". . . if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth."  (Colossians 3:1-2)

Just as the Lord Jesus said, I must make a choice.  I can't serve both God and Mammon (wealth personified).  As Midas found out, before he got into the auto exhaust business, where I set my affection will change my life. 

It's STTA.

Before you can put treasure in heaven, you need to know you are going there.  http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html

I hate to pick a fight with the redhead from Charlottesville--him being dead and all, I think I could take him--but he was wrong   All men aren't created equal.

I'm watching Monday Night Football.  So far the Bears aren't doing so well.  Somebody is less equal.  But, that's not my point.  Sports announcers have to announce, and often they make stuff up.  I'll get back to that.  A few minutes ago a receiver for Detroit made a remarkable catch.  Said announcers needed to fill some space, so they filled it up with some arithmatic.  Take the player's height, reach and leaping ability, do the calculations that tell you how far he can reach foreward, backward, left, right, and up, and you come up with the same space contained in a two-card garage. 

Me? I can barely reach my orange-juice next to the couch.  Got that, Tom?  Not even close to equal.

I regularly read stuff online & think I'd really like to comment on that.  Then I think, the person who wrote that comment is way smarter than me.  I'll just stay out of this.  On the other hand I have conversations where things run the other direction.  I feel like I need to tie one hand behind my back to make it fair. 

"But," someone says, "that's not what Jefferson meant."  

Maybe not.  He goes on to speak about people being endowed by their Creator.. . .  I'm not all together sure that Tom really believed in the Creator, but since he brought Him up, I'll agree.  People who jump high or sit firm, folk who are smart, not so much, or average--as the children's song says, "Red, brown, yellow, black, and white. all are precious in his sight."  All have sinned, and all can find salvation in Christ.

It's STTA.

What Matters Now?

Gadhafi, Qadafi, Moamer Kadhafi, Muammar Gaddafi,Qaddafi, or the nick-name President Reagan gave him, Mad-Dog.  I read that there were 112 ways to spell the Libyan dictator's name.  The linguistic wonder was even the subject of a Saturday Night skit. 
For over forty years the alphabet-soup ruler of the African nation reigned with absolute power.  His terror reached around the world, to Scotland, Germany, and Syracuse New York.  His palaces were huge, his wardrobe beyond even Elton John's.  In the "end" he was dragged out of a highway culvert and killed.
I put quotation marks around "end" because we know it isn't the end.  Hebrews 9:27 gives us the truth, "It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment."
Gadhafi was known as a "Strong-man" here.  Before God he is weak.  Even at the end of his life he was surrounded by guards and servants.  Before God he will stand totally alone.  The only thing more varied and colorful than the Libyan dictator's name was his wardrobe, but before the Lord nothing will be covered.  Not only the deeds he has done, but the thoughts of his heart will be judged.
About a day yet to come John said, "I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.  
And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works.
And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death.
And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire."  (Revelation 20:12-15)

Some things you just can't avoid, no matter how powerful you are.

It's STTA.

I had just done the final burst on my Airdyne, so it may be that all the blood had gone out of my cranium, but I think I heard the news say that a majority of Americans thought we needed to rally around a hopeful message. "Amen!" says the oxygen deprived one.  But--and that is a big word right here--but, what do we hope for? All across America, right down to the little community where I live, it seems there is agreement on one thing.  We are in a mess.  Once you get beyond that generic observation, though, unity splatters like my wife's china bowl after I drop it on the ceramic floor.   

More laws.

Fewer regulations.

Tighten the borders.

Remember we are a nation of immigrants.

Free Trade!

Impose Tarrifs.

 

Occupy Wall Street or put them all in jail.

 

So for what do we hope?

I'm not encouraging civic lethargy, but if I might be so bold I'd like to give an answer I once heard from Curly Fine, of Three Stooges fame.  When asked if he was a Democrat or a Republican, I believe he answered, "Neither.  I'm a Pedestrian."  Our hope ought to not be based in what the government can do but in the way we walk, 

and that's where God's word comes in.  Scripture frequently gives instructions for walking in such a way that engenders legitimate hope.  Here is one example:  ". . . walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love. . . . just as also you were called in one hope of your calling;" (Ephesians 4:1-4)  

 

Let's rally 'round that hope.

It's STTA.

Here's hope:  http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html

My wife and I have lived in two houses for our entire 39 years of marriage.  Our first nine months were spent in a trailer between Clarks Summit, where I was finishing college, and Tunkhannock, PA--our church was near there.  I know the more accepted term is "mobile home," or "manufactured housing," but ours was a trailer, with the odd quirks associated with that kind of house.  Since then our home, remodeled almost constantly, has been at 2106 S. Carpenter Drive.  You might think that for folk who have avoided the American urge to move and/or build bigger and better that simplicity would come easily.  You would be wrong.  
My part of the garage is a paradigm for the rest of my life.  If someone had charted the clutter in my "shop" over the years it would probably look like a perfect up and down oscillation.  Clutter, just plain dirt, and disorganization will increase until it gets to be too much.  Then a cleaning, putting away, creating organizational solutions, and just getting rid of stuff binge will begin.  After that there will be a steady state of "Doesn't this look nice?" and "Doesn't this make your shop a more inviting place to work?" that will last for a few days or maybe weeks, before, "I don't have time to clean up." will cause the curve to inch upward again.  
My wife's mottos are "Simplify," and "Eliminate and Concentrate."  As is true about almost everything, I'd be far better off if I listened to her more.  
My head and heart need cleaning as well.  There are times when the clutter--and in my head the clutter doesn't even stay still; it swirls around--gets so great that it prevents regular, more important activity from progressing.
This morning my grandson helped me out.  

"Christianity is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread."  

What an uncluttering thought!
Sharp kid!

It's STTA.

BTW, you can find that bread here: http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html

Sure Could Use Some Good--even sensible--News:

As I often do, I started this morning by watching some news.  As usual, it was mostly bad.  This morning, though, a particular kind of badness struck me.  Country singer Hank Williams Jr. seemed more ready for football than to answer questions about the current political scene.  His answers were mostly mono-syllables, barely above grunts, though he did manage to link our president to Adolph Hitler.  Then we were given the benefit of Roseann Barr's careful analysis of the economy.  Everyone who earns more than $100 million--no doubt, a number arrived at after careful study--should give back the excess, or go to Cambodian style re-education camps, or, failing said re-education, be beheaded.  Is "demouthed" a word?
Then there was an enlightening series of interviews with the residents of a tent-village, who want to "take over Wall Street."  As near as I can tell none of them have any idea what they will do with the financial capital of our nation if they manage to seize it.  Perhaps watch Roseanne reruns, hang out with Rowdy Friends, and broadcast old Michael Moore movies?
I was about to despair of hearing not only good news, but any that actually made any sense, when the story of Josh Ripley helping a cross-country competitor came up.  

Lord, help me to live so as to help those in need, and to encourage those who search for good news like a thirsty man in the desert looks for water.  
Amen

It's STTA.