I'm Famous

My Concrete "Angel"

The saga here at “the home” continues.

When Bruce and I moved in, I placed a concrete statue of a little girl—she looks maybe three or four years old—in a niche in the wall outside our door. She is about 20” tall; her head is bowed; her hands are folded, and two concrete wings sprout from her little concrete shoulders. I decorate her every month to fit a holiday or seasonal theme. Right now she is wearing a turkey tail, beak, and wattle for thanksgiving.

Although she bears no resemblance to the angels described in the Bible, I have been known to refer to this statue as “my angel.” This has resulted in the following brouhaha:

Last month, October, I put a half mask over her eyes, put artificial green leaves on her wings, and a sunflower on her head. I hung a green trick or treat bag over her hands and spread candy at her feet. Two days later, someone left a note, “This is nothing to do to an angel.” I took it as a joke and left it for all to see. Two days after that, I found a plastic bag hanging on my door containing my “angel’s” costume. I was astounded that anyone would have the nerve to do such a thing without notifying me.

Shortly thereafter, a lady I now refer to as “Super Christian” showed up at my door. She was all smiles as she told me that she had taken down the costume while I wasn’t in because “people were talking.” She went on. “I just wanted to protect you from the gossip.”

I was incensed, but, all smiles. (I haven't lived in the South for 40 years without learning something.) I asked if she wanted any help removing the pumpkin down the hall or the witch hanging from my neighbor’s door. She answered that she was "offended" by Halloween, but she had removed my decorations only because I had done such a thing “to an angel.”

[God help us. Yet another misapplication of the Biblical term "offended" by those who would control the behavior of other Christians. *To "offend" in the Bible means to cause another to sin.]

After she left, I thought of all sorts of things to do in retaliation, including placing the following note on my statue: “I realize that those of you who have recently stopped practicing witchcraft can be very tempted to return to those practices by any hint of the occult, so I apologize to all of you former witches for having costumed my statue for Halloween. Please know I am praying for your total rehabilitation.”

But I didn’t. In the end my better angels prevailed, and I posted the following:

Dear Residents,

I want to apologize for Becky who in the past has referred to me as “an angel.” Biblical angels are scary, wingless, and male.

I am a concrete statue made by Becky’s sister to commemorate their sister, Rita, who died in a car accident.

Becky has been dressing me up monthly to try and create a more joyful atmosphere here at C--------.

For October she dressed me as a sprite for “trick or treat,” forgetting that Rita did not allow her own children to celebrate Halloween.

I will close by reminding all of us that one way we can stop the Devil in his tracks is to NOT GOSSIP.

Anytime you hear anyone say anything about anybody, tell them to go to that person and say it to their face.

Thank you, “Angel” Rita

*Romans 14: 19-23 Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification. Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All food is clean, but it is wrong for a person to eat anything that causes someone else to stumble.  It is better not to eat meat or drink wine or to do anything else that will cause your brother or sister to fall. So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves.  But whoever has doubts is condemned if they eat, because their eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Physics, Theology, and the Expansion of the Universe

 

Just thinking:

Scientists say that, immediately after the Big Bang, the universe expanded faster than the speed of light. They also say that the universe will, sometime in the future, again expand at a rate faster than the speed of light. Given E=MC2, moving anything faster than the speed of light requires an infinite force.

What if "dark matter" is time?

What if time has mass?

What if the expansion of the universe is due to the expansion of time?

Some implications are:

·         Space has mass.

·         An infinite force created the universe.

·         Time began at the Big Bang and will end with the universe.

Of course,  infinite force does not necessarily imply intelligence, but the existence of the laws of chemistry, physics and biology ever since the Big Bang most certainly does.

 

"Going Off"

After a combined 109 years as baptized believers in the Churches of Christ, my husband Bruce and I have, as the old-timers put it, “gone off.” In other words, we are now worshiping with a body of believers who do not have a sign anywhere on the property that says “Church of Christ."

Some of the brothers and sisters with whom we no longer worship are dismayed. Some saw our defection coming. But no one has asked us why.

The why is important. The why includes years of persecution and hardship inflicted during our ministry. The why includes unbiblical beliefs and practices enforced as “law” while other biblical beliefs and practices were ignored and deprecated.

Not that we have arrived at our new spiritual location after a long search for perfection. (As the old adage says, “A perfect church is a church that would not want us as members.”)

So the question remains, “Why?”

Our shared response is that we have been led and added to this branch of the Vine by God, just as we were led to serve His body within the confines of Churches of Christ for 42 years.

My personal response is a description of my new found spiritual freedom in worship. For the first time in my life, I am FREE:

·         To follow the examples of New Testament worship.

·         To respond to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.

·         To add a song, a prayer or a word of knowledge.

·         To cry out, raise my hands or fall to my knees.

·         To shed tears of joy, or relief, or sorrow.  

·         To experience and acknowledge publically the presence of God.

·         To use my spiritual gifts to edify my brothers and sisters.

   Praise God!

We have not arrived at our new spiritual home empty handed. We come bearing treasure, a profound respect for Scripture gained from our years in the Churches of Christ. But it is this treasure that enables us to follow wherever He leads without fear or regret.

 

 

 

If I Were Kat Cooper's Mother

http://timesfreepress.com/news/2013/aug/21/repent-or-leave/

 

If I were Kat Cooper's mother, I would love her unconditionally. I would believe that she was entitled to every civil right accorded to any other American citizen.  I would accompany her to court if she were fighting for one of those rights.

But, if I were asked by my church or my God if I agreed with or promoted her homosexual lifestyle, I would have to say, “No, it is a sin, and I pray daily that she will be able to repent.”

This last statement does not negate the first. If we can’t love sinners, we can’t love anyone.

I do not know as much as I would like about God’s thoughts.

What I do know:

1.        Same sex attraction is no more a sin than heterosexual attraction.
2.       Both can lead to sin and destruction.
3.       God has provided a solution.

Romans 3:23,24: . . .all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

An Old Paradigm

My husband and I are, for the first time in nearly fifteen years, looking for a church home. I have told him and others that I am looking for a new worship paradigm, but, on closer reflection, what I am looking for is a very OLD paradigm—about 2000 years old.

Here it is in a nutshell:
I Corinthians 14: 29-33
What then shall we say, brothers and sisters? When you come together Each one (male or female) has a hymn, or a word of instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation. Everything must be done so that the church may be built up. If anyone (male or female) speaks in a tongue, two--or at the most three--should speak, one at a time, and someone (male or female) must interpret. If there is no interpreter, the speaker (male or female) should keep quiet in the church and speak to himself (or herself) and to God. Two or three prophets should speak (male or female) and the others should weigh carefully what is said. And if a revelation comes to someone (male or female) who is sitting down, the first speaker should stop. For you can all (male and female) prophesy in turn so that everyone (male or female) may be instructed and encouraged. The spirits of prophets (male and female) are subject to the control of prophets. For God is not a God of disorder but of peace—as in all the congregations of the Lord’s people.

What I do not want:
● The same person delivering a sermon every week.
● A sermon every week.
● Worship services and facilities that require you to look at the back of other members’ heads.
● Church projects and programs that allow you to ignore the world outside of church.
● Music and song leaders who are louder than the entire congregation.
● Only male Christians officiating at the Lord’s table, praying, reading scripture, leading singing, or serving as ministers and deacons.
● A bunch of people “speaking in tongues” without interpretation.
● A one-person-led congregation—be that person a pastor, elder, minister or priest.

I have passed these requests on to God. I hope He answers with an old paradigm.

Road Trip

In 1969, the summer after the Soviet Union and its allies suppressed a rebellion in Czechoslovakia, I traveled through Europe with 62 other members of the Harding College Acapella Chorus.

The day we arrived in Vienna, our host asked if we wanted to drive across the border into Czechoslovakia to sing for a secret church in Bratislava and smuggle in nearly 300 Bibles. If caught, we could be detained or arrested. We unanimously agreed.

Early that afternoon, after packing the Bibles in our door panels, we drove to the border where we were stopped by armed guards. On both sides of us, rows and rows of spiraled barbed wire several feet high stretched as far as we could see. Sharp spikes protruded from the ground. Two burned-out, bullet-riddled vehicles, once bound for freedom, rusted in no man’s land.

We remained at the border for several hours, worrying and sweating as the guards examined all 63 passports and questioned our director. As we sat, we dared not talk about the one thing that was uppermost in our minds. The authorities were definitely suspicious, but what were they going to do with all those hungry, tired, American college students? They finally released us, well after dark.

In Bratislava, we parked in a back alley near the unmarked church. At the bottom of a steep flight of stairs, we entered a candlelit basement dominated by a table piled with fruit, flowers, and confections of all sorts. About forty church members, who had been waiting since early in the day, greeted each of us with a kiss and motioned for us to eat. After satisfying our hunger and listening to a short sermon in either Czech or Russian (I certainly could not tell which) we stood to sing—song after song, through tears, ours and theirs.

We sang in Latin, German and English—nothing they could fully understand, but we cried in perfect harmony.

Vegetables Anyone?

I have contacted a volunteer organization to possibly help with our grounds here at “The Home” and maybe put in a raised-bed vegetable garden to supplement our meals. I passed out a survey at lunch asking residents to tell me what sort of help they might need with their own individual plantings and if they would help with a vegetable garden. The reaction was not mixed; it was uniformly wary and distrustful. I’m trying not to get discouraged right out of the box, BUT . . .

I thought, having worked with churches for forty years, that I knew how to communicate with wary people. People here at “The Home” are not just wary; they are “once bitten, twice shy,” paranoid.

First of all, they had to be assured that I have permission from the administrators to do what I have done. I do. (Reminder to self: In future, have the director imprint her pinky ring in wax on each sheet.)

Secondly, those who are now gardening do not want anyone telling them how to do what they are now doing. Fine. There is a place to circle “NO, I do not want any help.”

Some are sure that improvements in the grounds would mean higher rent. Others want to know if it will cost anything. Others who have tried similar projects in the past assure me it can’t be done. So on and so forth.

A few surveys are trickling in, and some are favorable. I’m going to give it a few more days and field any questions. We’ll see.

The Miracle of the Fishes

I’ve dreamed of living in a commune ever since my three or so days as a hippie. (I did the best I could at a conservative Christian College; I went without makeup and a bra, but no one noticed.)

In my dream, I live in a balmy clime with fellow carefree idealists. Our make-shift accommodations are simple but sturdy abodes filled with handycrafts and repurposed junk. I spend my days creating objet d’art, gardening, sewing, dancing, singing. I do not cook.

My dreams have come true—sort of.

My current situation involves communal living in which I do not have to cook, but that is as close as it comes to my original concept. My husband and I live in a unique community of 65+ year-olds who have been brought together primarily by impecuniosity. Our accommodation is a 1960’s era one-story apartment building conceived as a retirement home for impoverished widows. It is now coed with a few apartments for married couples.

The common areas of our abode are lavishly decorated, some in Danish modern and others in Spanish Colonial. European antiques and original oil paintings are scattered throughout—a far cry from the simple life of my dream. But the non-profit foundation that supports it all has suffered financially, and much of the upholstery, carpets and fixtures should have been replaced years ago.

Which brings me to the fish—sort of.

In January, Bruce and I moved here on the same day as another couple; I’ll call them Ike and Mamie. After a couple of days, Ike, an avid fisherman, noticed some empty picture hangers on the fireplace wall in the south den and proceeded, with permission, to hang up four, stuffed, wide-mouthed bass. The hangers were not particularly well-placed for said fish, and an elaborate, bedraggled, artificial flower garland from some previous tableau hung at a strange angle over the whole arrangement. It looked—I will try to be kind—odd.
“If the garland stays,” I told him, “I will have to fill the fishes’ gaping maws with flowers.”

The garland disappeared, and the fish were rearranged to look natural—sort of.

Two days later, the fish disappeared.

Turned out that, according to Ike and Mamie’s all-knowing, all-seeing neighbor, Bruce and I were the culprits who had hung the fish.

“No one is allowed to change the décor in any way,” she told them, “and those new people,” meaning Bruce and me, “are troublemakers.”

So, to protect us from the neighbor and her delusions, Ike took down his fish.

“You tell her,” I said, when I heard the edict, “that those fish are symbols of our religion, and we go into the den and worship them twice a day.”

I don’t believe Ike took my advice, but Lo, I sayeth unto thee, the fish are back.

Ananias and Saphira Rap

My Bible rap "Ananias and Saphira" is available free of charge on the following link.

http://www.sundayschoolnetwork.com/skits-Bible.html