Thursday, May 18, 2017
Submitting to Authorities is the Rule
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Syrian Refugee Debate
Monday, December 29, 2014
Thinking about music
Have your ever thought what life would be like without music, any music? Lately I have been thinking about the blessing of music. What an incredible gift!
I don't mean to suggest that I like all music. Frankly, some music is more accurately described as noise to me. What I have been thinking about is the grand experience of music to humanity in general. It is truly amazing.
With a mere handful of notes and a handful of keys we have not exhausted the melodies that can be made. There is a science to sound that defines music. Some sounds are compatible with other sounds in a manner that is pleasant, harmonious, even beautiful. Other sounds are incompatible or discordant; they irritate our hearing. And almost all of us can hear that difference.
I think it is wonderful that a particular set of notes can have the unique quality of the source making that sound. Listen to a band perform and you will hear the same notes of the melody, but with your eyes closed you can tell the difference between the piano, the guitar, the sax, the trumpet, the bass, etc. The same is true of our voices. Different performers may sing the same song in the same key, using the same notes, yet we can hear the distinct difference in the voice of the artists.
We were on a long road trip this Christmas so we loaded up the CD player in our car with Christmas CD's. I found myself savoring an album by Kenny G. His sweet style of play and the sweet melodies of familiar Christmas songs was truly peace-inducing.
Music is capable of communicating the multitude of varied moods of our being. An easy contrast is that of the happy, joyful or celebration songs to the sad or mournful melodies and cadences. In these ways, music connects with our hearts, with our emotions. And it can do so in powerful ways.
Having pondered this subject for awhile, I have come to see two important things. First, I have seen music as a gift of God to the human race. Life is so much fuller for all of us because of music than it would be without music. Try to imagine life without it. God has given us this gift in the design of the universe. You and I can give the gift of a musical instrument, and that can be a tremendous gift; but God has given us the greater gift of music. Have you been duly appreciative? I don't think I have been. Second, music defies the naturalistic, evolutionist view of our world and life. There is no rational explanation for the existence of any beauty - including the beauty of music - apart from a Creator who designed nature to have such beauty, and designed us to enjoy and use it. The Scriptures begin by telling us that we were made "in His image". Music is one of the wonderful ways the human race has to express creativity. We can take this for granted, or we can see it as a glory of God shared with us.
Another fascinating fact about music and the Creator's design involves the way music is stored in our brains. Though the lyrics of a song are language, they are not stored in the same way or place as normal language. Thus, it is not uncommon to find a stroke victim who is unable to speak words, yet can access and sing the lyrics of songs stored in the brain. If that sounds like something that happened by some random acts of nature, you hear differently than I. I see the fingerprints of a Mighty God, an Awesome Creator!
Finally, music is a common grace. That is, it is given to all. Thus, it can be used for noble purposes or for ignoble purposes. I believe it is our duty before the Creator to use it for noble purposes. By this I do not mean that all music must be of a religious or ostensibly spiritual quality. We should realize that "truth" conveyed via a catchy melody is quite powerful, but so is a lie. To appreciate music is, in part, to appreciate this great power.
Thank You, God, for the wonderful gift of music!
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
A "botched execution"
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Maybe you don't need the Holy Spirit
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Thanksgiving Thoughts
I don't remember the year exactly, but it was in the early 70's that my maternal grandfather died. I know I was driving my 1970 Olds Cutlass that I had bought brand new; and I don't think I had owned it more than a year at the time. On this rather strange occasion, I had gone home to visit my family - especially my Mom. My maternal grandmother had died the previous year, so on this trip, I decided I would drop in and see my grandpa on the way home.
The experience was shocking. When we pulled up to the old house where he lived, there were a few cars there already. Grandpa never had a car, never drove as far as I knew. So, he obviously had company. But this was in the daytime and on a weekday. At the door, I was greeted by an aunt who invited us in. The cars belonged to aunts and uncles I quickly learned. The news came fast. "Pop died this morning."
The body had just been discovered by one of the aunts early that morning. Grandpa was just sitting on his couch - dead - when she came in. The authorities had already come and taken his body away. All the aunts and uncles that were physically close were notified and assembled at the house. My Mom had not been notified.
It was a shocking experience to learn that Grandpa had already died. But there was something more shocking. Grandma and Grandpa had 11 children. Grandpa was an alcoholic; well, I guess I should say he was a drunk since he never went to any of those blasted meetings. He was not a heavy drinker all the time. He was more of a monthly binge drinker. He would get his Army pension check on the 1st of the month and he would routinely drink a good part of it away.
They were very poor people. They lived in a small four-room house on a large lot right beside the railroad track that ran through town. Somehow they had gotten water plumbed into the kitchen sink; that was all. And the water there was only cold water. The house had no water heater. The old house was heated with a large coal stove in the living room. An outhouse near the alley in the back was the only bathroom facility. And this was the way it was the day Grandpa died.
The most valuable possession they had was a television. And it was nothing spectacular.
So what shocked me more than learning that Grandpa had died was watching my aunts and uncles interact. They were arguing over who was going to get what. I cannot describe the disgust I felt. Grandpa's body was barely down to room temperature and these jerks are arguing over his stuff. I was in my mid 20's at the time and I had more stuff than what was in that house. I listened to the bickering for a few minutes and I had all I could stand. I told them so, in no uncertain terms.
One of my uncles, whom we had visited several times in prison when I was a kid, responded to my rebuke with a threatening one of his own. He said something to the effect of "If you know what is good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut, Nonie" (I guess that's how you spell it; I never saw it in writing; it was just what a lot of family called me back then. It was pronounced "NO-knee".) Since I never knew what this uncle was in prison for, I quickly shut up and left the premises. I have had no desire to be around any of them since. I have seen a couple of my aunts and an uncle that were not there that day.
Maybe Grandpa deserved kids like that. Maybe not. Though I heard plenty of stories about his alcohol abuse, I never saw him either drinking or drunk. He was always really nice to me. I liked him and he liked me. I don't like most of his kids though. I choose better friends than that.
I am very thankful for one of his children, my Mom, the second of the 11. This is my first Thanksgiving without her. I wish you were here. I'm glad you're not here anymore.
Monday, September 24, 2012
The United Way and Me
I was stationed in Jacksonville, FL when it happened. I had only been in the service five-to-seven months. Jacksonville was where I was sent from boot camp to be trained as an aircraft electrician, which is how I served my country for the next four years.
Most of the young men in my class were single guys like myself. There were a couple of married guys who lived off base. When there were "official meetings" or our unit had "duty", these married guys had to join us in the barracks. On one such assembly, we were informed that the United Way was requesting each of us to donate some small amount of money from our small paychecks. I think it was only one dollar per month. We were further informed that our commander wanted 100% participation from his command.
We discussed this among ourselves in the barracks that night, with at least one of the married guys speaking up strongly against it. We all agreed with his opinion; we didn't have money to give away. Personally, I had a car payment I couldn't make on the money the Navy paid me. I think it was a couple of days later that we were to turn in the forms to approve the Navy deducting a set amount from our paychecks. We all turned them back in declining the request.
This did not go over well with the commander. Did I mention that he wanted 100% participation from those in his command? Apparently, commanders were pretty used to getting what they wanted. When the paperwork hit his desk, something else hit the fan. We were all assembled again. This time we were told that, if we chose not comply with the request, we might have "bag inspections" on Saturdays.
I must explain what "bag inspections" were. When we joined the Navy, we were given a large duffel bag in which all of our Navy-issued belongings, (the underwear, shoes, socks, hats and uniforms provided in boot camp) were packed. A bag inspection would entail having to pack all of those possessions in the bag, carry it to a designated inspection spot (probably not close to the barracks), and then lay it all out to ensure we had all of the proper equipment in acceptable condition.
The idea of a bag inspection was not a pleasant thought, so it made a reasonable threat. No young sailor wanted to spend part of his Saturday that way. So - the opinion in the barracks quickly changed. Everyone but me decided to sign the papers and let the Navy take a little of our money to help out the United Way. It was not because any of us became more charitable with our limited funds. It was because - for almost everyone there, it seemed like the most reasonable option.
When our barracks chief discovered that I had still refused, he told me that I would have four hours of "extra duty" on Saturday. I was to report to him at 0800 hours in dungarees. For four hours I was charged with cleaning this and moving that. About half way through the morning, this petty officer in charge told me that, if I insisted on refusing to sign the paper, we could be doing this for many more weeks. I said to him, "Sir, you can have me do extra duty for the next four years; but I will not give money to the United Way." I never heard anything else from him. I was never forced to do extra duty again. In retrospect, that petty officer didn't want to have to supervise me on his Saturday either.
At the time this all became an issue, I had nothing against the United Way. I had heard their advertisements about a new way to support various organizations like the heart association, cancer society, etc. People could make one pledge and not be pestered by dozens of agencies wanting financial donations. It sounded reasonable. In fact, if this proposition had been made while I was still working at the factory in my hometown, I would have probably signed on to do it.
The practice of coercing military men to give to the United Way was undoubtedly being investigated at the very time that my barracks mates and I were being coerced. By the next year, when the United Way drive was in gear at my next duty station, we were clearly informed that we could not be forced to contribute - that congress had passed a law making it illegal to do so. Still, we were told that our commander wanted 100% participation from those in his command. I don't know how many refused this time. Maybe I was the only one again. The four hours of extra duty the prior year was fresh in my mind, and I had not changed my mind.
This time I was not threatened, but I was called into the squadron commander's office. He issued no threat. He wanted to know why I would not contribute. In his mind it seemed like such a little amount and such a reasonable request to ask everyone to do their part. Then he told me that, if I still didn't want to contribute, he would personally put the money in for me. In retrospect, I suppose he anticipated that suggestion would make me feel guilty enough to sign on. It didn't. I told him - respectfully - that he could do whatever he wanted but I would not give. I also told him what happened to me in the previous command.
The United Way supports a lot of good works. My problem was not with their goals, but their methodology of reaching those goals. Just because someone decided it would be a great thing if every American worker gave to a particular cause or cluster of causes, does not mean that you or I should feel obliged to give. Neither does it mean that some corporate head should apply pressure on underlings to give. That, I am fairly sure, still happens.
I am a pretty generous man. I give to worthy organizations regularly. But I have little tolerance for manipulating and coercing people to be generous. So, for that violation of my person - and not me alone - the United Way shall never get one red cent of my money. Over the years, I have found more reasons not to contribute to the United Way. They have had a tendency to support agencies that many of us would not choose to support. Many years ago the excessively high compensation to the head of United Way was exposed. If I had ever a doubt about changing my mind, that solidified it.