What Will You Do With 1927?

This was the final creative writing piece that I hadn't shared yet. After a two month span of posting nothing, I guess it is high time I post it.

What Will You Do With 1927?

Working in the library has certain perks. One of which is that I have access to the basement periodicals storeroom, where we keep lots and lots of really old Adventist magazines and also the cryogenically frozen James White. I’m talking about the Southern Accent from 1945, The Signs of the Times from 1918, and the Review and Herald from 82 B.C.

That’s why I was down there last night. Someone from another Adventist library was looking for a particular article by a particular author from Signs of the Times, but didn’t know what year this article was written in. We narrowed it down to before 1945 because that was when the author died. This meant I had to look through all of the pre-1945 issues of Signs of the Times in search of this article.

I don’t think my boss knew what she was doing when she gave me this assignment. I enjoyed it far too much and got very little work done. You see, when I discover an article about the Adventist perspective of Calvin Coolidge’s inaugural address, I’m going to have to read it, all of it. Or an article about whether women should be allowed to smoke, accompanied by a picture of some 20’s flapper smoking a cigar that would make Colombo blush, I’m going to have to read that too. I’m weird that way.

Nearly every article was fascinating. These were magazines that my great-grandfather could have and probably did read as a young man, between milking cows by hand and plowing fields with a horse-drawn plow.

I learned a lot about the past that night. Some things have changed dramatically, while others are largely the same. They had a lot of the same problems we did, although many to a lesser degree. A 1923 article about divorce explained in loud bold letters the horror of a one in every eight marriage divorce rate. That actually sounded pretty reasonable to my jaded, 21^st century mindset, where we have a marriage failure rate of about one in every two. Another article talked about Hollywood sleaze, sex, violence, and its affect on people. The scary thing is that it was written in 1925, and the “movies” they were talking about were silent films in the vein of Charlie Chaplain, The Little Rascals, and early Laurel and Hardy. If only they could see us now, I wondered. How far have we fallen?

Looking back with today’s knowledge was bizarre. A 1928 article detailed the unveiling of a Japanese monument commemorating Admiral Perry’s 19^th century expedition to Japan. It showed an American flag and the flag of Imperial Japan flying side by side. It talked about how this monument would lead to a new friendship between the two countries. Would they have believed me about Pearl Harbor and the A-bomb if I told them? I wondered. There was also much talk of what they called the “Great War” and how they must be vigilante lest it happen again. World War I was still very fresh in their minds, and despite all their rhetoric about peace and vigilance many young parents reading these articles would eventually see their children fight and die in World War II.

The article that impacted me the most, however, was one titled What Will You Do With 1927? It was written at the end of 1926 and it was some sort of end of the year devotional. It said things like “Doubtless there are a hundred spots in the pathways of 1926 that you would retrace…but alas, the clock never turns backward. The past has passed, forever!” and “1927. Do you want to live its three hundred and sixty-five days so that when December 31 comes around you will have no regrets?” and “Keep your sins forgiven in 1927” and “The year 1927 may be the beginning of eternity for you…” and finally “…choose Jesus in 1927!”

Oddly enough, if you substitute 2007 for 1927 the entire article becomes relevant to today. It was upon understanding this that I came face to face with my own mortality. That had never happened in the library before, and it was eerie. Chances are that basically every person who read that article in 1926 is dead now. Did they choose Jesus in 1927? In 1938? In 1952? In 1975? In 1992? Did they live their remaining days with no regrets?

Then I realized that I too will likely one day look back on my life and wonder if I did all that I could for Christ. I know I’m not going to lie on my death bed and regret I hadn’t spent more time watching TV, or on the internet, or pursuing selfish goals. Nobody ever looks back and says, “Boy did I ever watch some good TV in my day!” So why do I do these things?

No, if I have any regrets, it will be because I didn’t live like a Christian should, or I wasn’t the best husband and father I could have been, or I selfishly squandered my time on Earth chasing vain pursuits. The words of Ecclesiastes came to mind…Vanity of vanities…all is vanity and grasping for the wind.

Logically, we as Christians should live for Heaven. The only thing that we can take with us to heaven is other people. Everything else is mere grasping for the wind. Jesus spent great amounts of his time helping and witnessing to other people, and when he wasn’t doing that he was resting or communing with God. If all Christians spent their time so unselfishly, how much more effective would our witness be?

Many families fall apart because they don’t spend time with each other. Workaholics, dads who spend more time on their computers than with their wives and children, mothers who let the television baby-sit for them, these stories are all over. Is it any wonder the divorce rate has quadrupled in the last 80 years? Time management is imperative in families, and I pray that God will mold me into a man that will put God and family first.

But it isn’t easy to just throw everything else aside. This isn’t to say I think a little meaningless entertainment is bad, as long as it is kept in balance and in priority with the things that really matter.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. In other words, our hearts are in what we spend our time with. There are days when I feel too tired to get out of bed in time to do devotions, yet still find time to check my email or Myspace.

And I need to stop that, I resolved right there in the middle of the library. How are you managing your time? What are you doing with 2007? Are you living for Jesus? There is little that is worse than a wasted life. Live so that when you make it to your death bed, you can lean back and say to yourself “Yes…that was a job well done.”

Perhaps one day, in 2087, a periodical desk worker in the McKee Library of the future may discover this article. At that point I will be either dead or 101 years old. In either case, live for Jesus in 2088 and say hi to my great grandchildren. Thanks!

“So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” – Psalm 90:12

Epilogue: While the author was composing the final paragraph of this article, his phone rang. Perplexed as to who was calling him, he answered and was greeted with a familiar southern drawl. “Hello Benjeeeemen, this is Betty down at Blood Assurance, we’re low on O negative blood raught now and could really use yer help…” said the voice on the other end. He knew that the blood bank wanted him to donate. He has an uncommon blood type which is highly sought after for transfusions, because it has universal compatibility. He is in the habit of donating because he doesn’t think God would have given him magic blood if he didn’t intend for him to share it. Unfortunately, the author is incredibly busy, what with a movie project, two essays, a portfolio, soccer games, and creative writing assignments. He was about to tell Betty of Blood Assurance that he didn’t have the time to help her out when he realized his hypocrisy and signed up for a Friday appointment.

Here Are Some Bible Verses That I Dislike

Thomas Jefferson, the 3^rd president of the United States, was a fascinating man. He had quite a few ideas as to what the new nation should become; having been there since the start (he was the man who wrote the declaration of independence, after all.) He’d be very disappointed to see that none really came to fruition. Jefferson envisioned a nation of small, self-sufficient farmers, while his rival Alexander Hamilton pushed towards industrialization. With less then 3% of the modern US working population affiliated with agriculture, it really isn’t hard to see whose idea won out.

Jefferson also had some revolutionary ideas about religion that contrasted the conservative Hamilton. Hamilton’s ideas won out (today’s America is really a result of many of the things Hamilton did, but the average American knows little about him besides that he’s on the $10 bill.) But this isn't a history lesson, it's a lesson about Jefferson and his Bible.

Thomas Jefferson had a Bible. He also had a pair of scissors. He had a habit of using the two at the same time. You see, Jefferson was a Deist, and Deists believe that God created the universe, and then left it alone. This doesn’t match up with many of the things in the Bible, and so when Jefferson found something in his Bible that he didn’t like, he cut it out.

He removed anything remotely supernatural, including all hints of Jesus’ divinity, which he considered an invention of the disciples. He went so far as to publish an excerpt from his cut and paste project, which he called The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth.

I read a good section of it, which you can find here if you’re interested: The Jefferson Gospels. This Jesus is a lot more like Buddha, spouting off wise sayings but never healing anybody. Probably the biggest and most depressing change can be found in its conclusion, which reads “Now, in the place where he was crucified, there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus. And rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed.” Thus ends the gospel according to Jefferson.

I try to read my Bible without scissors. But sometimes, like Jefferson, I feel like clipping out a part or two. I’m not a deist, so my objections aren’t as blatant, but they are there.

One verse that irritates me is Luke 14:26:

“If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple.”

Jesus seems to be condemning family here. And that really chafes my hide. I had hoped that my knowledge of Biblical Greek could produce an alternative translation which suited my personal beliefs better, but to no avail. The Greek word “μισει” (missei) can only be rendered as “hate” or “abhor” or “despise” or other such synonyms. So I’m stuck with it.

However, the reason I dislike that verse is probably because it speaks directly to me. It’s a lot easier to read verses about not murdering or stealing or adultering because I have no strong desire to participate in those offenses. But being commanded to hate my family, present and future, is something else entirely. Also, it seems to contradict verses like Ephesians 5:25 (which, I can assure you, is in no danger of being cut out of my Bible.)

Jesus can’t be speaking literally, because it would go against many of his core teachings. I somehow doubt he put “abolishing the familial structure” in his mission statement.

So we look deeper. In context, it seems to me that Jesus is saying that he must be the number one priority in our lives. We can’t allow any other person or persons, or ourselves, to surpass him, even if that person is our spouse, parent or child.

Even knowing what it means, it’s still hard for me to apply. I value family very highly, both my current one and my future one. I like to think I value God more, but in reality sometimes it is hard to determine where my loyalties lie. Thankfully, my quest to honor my parents and find a godly wife hasn’t been at odds with my quest to further God’s cause. If placed in a situation where I had to choose between the two, well…I think I’ll try to avoid such hypothetical situations.

So while I wrestle with my own priorities, ask yourself if anything in your life surpasses God, and remember that we need to take the Bible as a whole. We can’t choose the parts that we like and forget the rest.

For assuredly, I say to you, till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle will by no means pass from the law till all is fulfilled. Matthew 5:18 NKJV

Beware the Salt Sucker

WARNING: THIS MAY BE THE NERDIEST DEVOTIONAL YOU WILL EVER READ.

This devotional is kind of special to me. It is adapted from the very first sermon I ever gave, waaaaaay back when I was a sophomore in high school. I was 15 then! I still have the original notes, so much of it is pretty much lifted straight from it.

This is kind of on the light fluffy side, being based on an episode of 60's Star Trek (I was a serious Trekkie at the time.) It could benefit strongly with less emphasis on plot and more on moral. But, I think the message is valid, so I'm sharing it.

Beware the Salt Sucker

Forty years ago, before men landed on the moon, a different type of space exploration was taking place once a week on televisions across the country. That was the Star Trek phenomena, which brought intelligent writing to a genre long since ridiculed for stupidity.

Today, the show is very dated looking. But more often the not, the writing makes one think. And one episode in particular, should make us all question what we do with our lives.

That episode is called The Man Trap, and it is the first episode of the show to air, way back in 1966.

First, let me introduce you to the characters and the premise. Star Trek is about a crew of brave adventurers sailing their ship the Enterprise all around the galaxy, and encountering all sorts of weird stuff. The captain is a man named James T. Kirk, but everyone calls him Jim. He’s flanked by his two best friends, a pointy eared alien named Spock, and cranky old country doctor Leonard McCoy.

In this episode, the Enterprise has been ordered to check in on a husband and wife team of archaeologists, Robert and Nancy Crater.
So we begin this episode with a shot of Kirk, McCoy, and Expendable Crewman #1, teleporting onto the desert planet where this dig is taking place. On Star Trek, the skies are always red and nameless characters you've never seen before always die. But for the purposes of this sermon, I'm going to name the third character "Bob." Now on the planet, our heroes move towards the cave where Robert and Nancy Crater apparently live. We then learn that apparently, Nancy Crater is Dr. McCoy's ex-girlfriend. Apparently she ran off with that Robert guy and left poor McCoy alone. Kirk, always the bringer of good-advice, tells McCoy that when visiting an ex-girlfriend, one should always bring flowers. So he reaches down and picks some dry grass.

Gee, thanks Kirk. I'll remember that tip. (Kirk is the one in the gold, McCoy in the blue)

They walk into the cave, and find Nancy Crater. If there was any bad blood left between McCoy and Nancy, it quickly evaporates when McCoy notices she hasn't aged a day since when he saw her last several decades ago. However, it only appears that way to him. Oddly enough, Kirk sees an entirely different, older woman. Things are even weirder when Bob, the expendable crewman, sees yet another, blonder Nancy Crater. It becomes apparent that each man sees exactly what he wants to see.

They talk for awhile, then Kirk sends Bob out to look for Robert Crater. So Bob goes outside and leans against the door like a moron instead.

Nancy (the blond one) walks out after him and starts acting really flirty for no reason and the audience groans.

At that point, Robert Crater shows up inside the cave and basically tells Kirk and McCoy to leave. Also he wants extra Salt so if they could give him some on the way out it would be great. The audience dislikes this guy because he looks really sweaty and weird.

Just then, BLOOD CURDLING SCREAMS come from outside. The men run outside to find Nancy (the old one) standing above the dead body of Bob, the expendable crewman.

One thing is certain: Bob is dead, and something is responsible. Nancy is too distraught to be of assistance, so Kirk and McCoy return to the ship to do an autopsy.

They discover something disturbing. Bob shouldn't be dead. There is only one thing wrong with him, his body contains no salt. The human body needs salt to survive, and Bob lost all of his, apparently sucked out through the red welts on his face. Remembering Robert Crater's bizarre request for extra salt supplies, Kirk and McCoy return to the planet to question him, bringing along Expendable Crewmen #'s 2 and 3 (or for the purposes of this sermon, Larry and Steve.)

Nancy Crater is nowhere to be seen, so Kirk orders Larry and Steve to go get killed-I mean go find her. Kirk asks Robert Crater why he wants Salt, and he makes up some excuse about needing it to replenish salt lost through sweat, this being a desert planet and all. He shows them a box that used to be full of salt, and is now empty. You can almost believe he too, because the man perpetually looks like he just got through playing basketball in 100% humidity while dressed asan Eskimo.

Having got nowhere with their interrogation of Robert Crater, Kirk and McCoy head back outside and run right into the dead body of Larry.

Then the scene shifts, and we see Nancy Crater now standing over dead body of Steve. From this point on, we can't really refer to her as Nancy, so I'm going to call her "The Salt Sucker."

Having realized that things are going badly, Kirk starts calling for Steve to come back to the ship. The Salt Sucker hears this, so she...er...it begins to...TRANSFORM INTO STEVE.

Having assumed the form of Steve the Expendable Crewman, it runs up and meets Kirk and they return to the ship. Kirk starts scanning the planet for any signs of what could be killing his crew, not knowing that he has let THE SALT SUCKER loose on his ship. It doesn't take long for a random crewman to show up dead.

His plastic tarp vest and aluminum foil arms couldn't even protect him! With crewman dying all around him, Kirk figures that Robert Crater knows more than he lets on, so he and Spock go back to the planet to arrest him.

He resists. They catch him anyway. Once back on the ship, they interrogate him. Then we learn his horrible story. About a year ago...or was it two? Crater can't even remember. His wife, the real Nancy Crater, was killed by the strange creature that we're calling The Salt Sucker.

Originally, he was upset about this, but then he discovered that the creature could do things for him. It was a shape shifter, and it could become anyone or anything that he wanted it to. All it took was a little salt from his jar. As long as he controlled that jar, he controlled the creature. Just then, the creature comes from around a corner and grabs him! He tries to resist, and reaches for his jar of salt, only to find it empty. He promptly dies.

Kirk chases the Salt Sucker, right into Dr. McCoy's office. The Salt Sucker transforms back into Nancy, and begs McCoy to protect it.

McCoy, unaware of what is going on, protects her by taking away Kirk's weapon.
Then things get weird.

The Salt Sucker grabs Kirk's face, and begins to suck the salt out of him. However, in order to do this it must transform into its true form. If you don't like ugly things, scroll past it, fast! This thing was traumatizing our parents forty years ago, and it hasn't gotten any prettier!

With this staring him in the face, McCoy does the only thing one should do in this situation. He shoots it with his gun.

The creature falls over dead. The day is saved, but the crew sits around very somberly for few minutes to think about what they've learned.

Then the ship flies away into space. Roll credits.

What was the point all that? There’s an important spiritual allegory here.

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. Matthew 5:13

When Jesus used the metaphor of “The Salt of The Earth”, to get across the point that a person without goodness is like salt that has lost its saltiness. Salt that doesn’t taste salty is worthless, just as a Christian who does no good is worthless.

Like the Salt Sucker in the story, the devil wants your salt. He doesn’t want you to live a good life, and he certainly doesn’t want you to spend your time serving Christ. And like the Salt Sucker, he’ll offer you whatever you find appealing to get at your “salt.”

Every person has temptations that they are susceptible to, that may not even interest another person. I know my weaknesses, and chances are you know yours.

The problem is that sin can be fun. Robert Crater lived with The Salt Sucker for several years, enjoying the pleasures it brought, all while feeding it salt from his supplies so it wouldn’t go after the salt in his body.

Look at some of the stuff on television, music, magazines, the Internet. There are some bad things out there, but they may make you happy. You may like some of that stuff, and the devil will see you get access to it. All he asks is a little salt.

On the surface, sin can be as pretty as young Nancy Crater...but at its core it looks like the horrible monster it really it.

Sin offers amazing fun for awhile, and the things you can do are only limited by your imagination. The problem is that it slowly takes its toll.

We run out of salt, and we can’t live without it. Physically or spiritually.

Will you be like crater, and when the devil shows up, will you reach in vain for your salt, only to find it all used up?

What Does Your Light Shine On?

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What time is it when your watch runs backwards?

Before I share with you the punchline to that joke, a little lead-in. Two years ago, I was on the airplane headed back to Southern after Christmas break. I looked down to see what time it was, only to discover that my watch was actually running backwards.

So what time is it when your watch runs backwards? Time to buy a new watch. And that is exactly what I decided to do.

Because I am a connoisseur of only the finest in timekeeping machinery, I headed straight to Wal-Mart. There were only about five hundred different watches to choose from, most of which were decidedly feminine looking. However, I did find one which wasn't too girlish, and for a whole $7.99 it became mine.

It ran nicely, and nothing appeared to be wrong with it. I was content and happy until one evening I glanced down at and become very amused and slightly disgusted. You see, this watch had a serious design flaw. The man who engineered it needs to lose his job at whatever Indonesian watch factory it came from.

It was a face watch, and oddly enough the numbers were painted with glow in the dark ink, but the hands weren't. So in the dark, the watch displays a glowing circle of numbers but no time.

One must wonder exactly what the reasoning behind this is supposed to be. If I were ever to forget how to count to twelve in the dark, I guess the watch would be usable, but otherwise it was pretty stupid. It was likely a manufacturing defect, but still, pretty stupid.

Matthew 5:14 sees Jesus calling his followers “The Light of the World.” What he meant was that we as Christians represent to the world what God is supposed to stand for. By our actions or “light” those who do not know God are supposed to get a picture of him through us.

However, as my watch quite accurately points out, not all light is created equal. The purpose of a watch is tell time, and the purpose of glow in the dark ink is to make it so the watch can tell time in the dark. But my watch didn't tell time in the dark, even though it had light.

You've already figured out where I'm going with this. Do your actions represent Christ? Do your actions betray who you serve? Or are you like my watch, sending out light with no real purpose? Many atheists point to the hypocrisy of Christians who claim to serve Christ but live no differently than the rest world. Don't be like that. Let your light shine and illuminate the nature of God.

You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Matthew 5:14-15

As an aside, the watch talked about in this story broke awhile back. I bought a new one a few weeks ago, and both the numbers and the hands glow in the dark. But this one came from Target, so I'm really not surprised!

The week of computer problems

EDIT: Woah, my parents computer destroyed itself. It literally broke inside. Apparently after eight years of abuse they can do that. As a result, there won't be an update this week. The devotional I was working on (and was almost done with!) is still on my hard drive and I can access it when I get back to Southern...so I'll see you next week with something entirely different!

This Devotional About Supermodels is Not My Fault

This piece has a story behind it. At writer's club a few months back, one of the attendees was reading some riddles he had written. My response for all of them was "supermodel." Hey, it always made perfect sense, but I was the only one who thought so. Eventually, Jason ended up daring me to write about a supermodel for the next meeting.

So I did.

This Devotional About Supermodels is Not My Fault

So I was dared to write about a supermodel. While I know several girls who are pretty enough to be supermodels, they have chosen to devote their lives to more meaningful professions. I also don’t like to write fiction all that much. Therefore, I was left with only one option. I must write about a supermodel that I admire.

Finding admirable supermodels proved to be a laborious task. Yet, there is one model that I have had a “crush” on since fourth grade. Millions of people see her smiling face everyday, and she has been modeling for quite a few years. Despite this, she has completely avoided all of the scandals surrounding many of today’s glamour girls. No illegitimate children, no sex tapes, no anorexia accusations. Instead she provides young ladies with a positive, hard working role model.

Have I mentioned yet that she is gorgeous? She doesn’t look like one of those Hollywood girls, with lips the size of jet liners and artificial bosoms the size of…really big things. No, she looks like a normal girl you could see at the grocery store.

On top of all this, she was born in Fresno, California, just like me. While I have never actually met her, she is a prominent figure locally because of her international popularity.

I am talking, of course, about the Sun-Maid Raisin Girl. Ever since my mother packed those little boxes of raisins in my school lunches I have secretly admired her.

The media bombards us with images of what human beauty is supposed to be like. More often then not, it falls into the stereotype of a fit surfer styled man and a Playboy playmate. Physical appearance is made a major issue, to a greater degree towards young girls than boys. The media tells them that they must weigh a certain amount, dress a certain way, dye their hair a certain color, and et cetera.

I find the Sun-Maid Raisin girl very attractive. But a pretty face does not a happy marriage make. On the cover of the raisin box, her beauty lasts forever, but that isn’t the way things work in real life. In fact, having been in vineyards and having spent days picking grapes, I can assure you that if she continues in that line of work, by the time she is forty her face is going to look like the raisins she is pawning. Then, I hope that she has married a man who loves her for who she is, not because she has a gorgeous smile.

Our culture is a little confused as to what love actually is. Last year, National Geographic magazine ran an article about love. What do think made the cover? A picture of a young, attractive couple embracing in what appears to be a nightclub. This is not love, this is mere infatuation. Love is what you have after you’ve been married for fifty years. National Geographic should have shown a picture of two withered old people with canes and suspenders holding hands and called that “love,” instead.

Speaking of raisins, I believe a successful marriage is a lot like a raisin. Before you put this paper down and call me insane, hear me out.

Raisins start out as grapes, on a vine. Marriages often start out as a union between two young, naïve people. Consider a new marriage a grape. Not all grapes are created equal. Some are big, some are small. Some are perfectly round, others are downright deformed. Some are horrifically sour, some taste like mush, and some are wonderfully sweet. However, with few exceptions, all have the capacity to become a raisin.

Yet, grapes do not magically transform over time into raisins. A special process must be observed. If you throw a bunch of grapes into a closet and come back in a month expecting to find raisins, you are going to be wonderfully disappointed. You’ll find a pile of rotten pulp which at one point may have been grapes.

In order to create a raisin, two things must happen to a grape. They must be exposed to sunlight, and they must be kept dry. In order to have a successful, Christlike marriage, both the husband and the wife must expose themselves to the Son of God. As the grapes absorb more and more sunlight, they become dryer and the potential for rot is removed.

It is at this point, dear reader and or listener, that I abandon this paper. I say all of this with only the good intentions and wishful thinking of a single man who wants to be as Christ like as possible in his future marriage. Alas, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and I am not qualified to say many of the things I have just said. But Jason dared me to write about supermodels and I thought about raisins and marriage and this is what happened. I will hopefully return to it someday when I have been married for some time and have some experience in such matters.

This Story Was Almost About Bulls

Wow, two days late and all I have to deliver is a recycled creative writing piece. Shame on me! Oh well.

I wrote this devotional over spring break at about three in the morning with a 100+ degree fever. Apparently, while semi-intoxicated I have a penchant for run-on sentences and lack of punctuation, as well as bizarre scripture choices. Yet, I can't bring myself to edit it...

Electric Fences

Bulls are one of those things that are better enjoyed on the other side of solid electrified steel. I know this from experience.

There was a time when my grandfather owned somewhere around ten bulls. I have no idea why because bulls have only a limited number of uses. You cannot milk them, you can only kill and eat them and we were vegetarians so that made them useless. We only had like three cows on the ranch and they were off by themselves so all these bulls, which were all bull by the way, had only each other’s company. This means they had no company at all.

They were all in one pen and angry about it. At night you would hear them a quarter mile away screaming at the moon. Bulls do not moo. They scream bloodcurdling screams of death. It was a chorus of perpetual agony.

I do not blame them because I know that if I was locked in a pen with nothing but other guys and no ladies ever came to visit I would start screaming at the moon too.

Anyways, I found standing outside their pen and observing their lonesome suffering to be a source of great amusement. They would turn and look at you, then bawl at you until saliva formed froth around their lip and started to come out in streams. It was obvious that they hated you with all the hatred they could muster, but they couldn’t do anything because there was an electric fence in the way.

Touching that fence hurt. I know for sure that electric fences hurt, because when I was in kindergarten my kindergarten girlfriend came to the farm and I tried to explain to her how electric fences worked. She asked how I knew they hurt when I had never touched one. I didn’t know either. So she dared me to grab it and see. We were such a caring couple, as you have observed.

I was smarter than that, though. I knew about conduction. I knew how electricity worked. I figured that if I touched it with something else I could see if it was really hot or not. So I grabbed a rubber garden hose and put it on the fence. Then I touched the garden house. I was surprised to see that nothing happened.

She still wanted me to touch the fence, and I did not want to disappoint a lady. Besides, I knew that electricity went through things, and since it didn’t come through the rubber hose then this fence must have been dead. So, in typical “see how manly I am” fashion, I grabbed the fence with both hands. I stopped crying some time the next day.

I still regret that our relationship did not survive the perils of first grade. I imagine that today she’d have me jumping in front of trains or shooting myself with a nail gun just to see if it hurt. Regardless, I learned a valuable lesson about materials with nonconductive properties.

Come to think of it, I learned another lesson, too. No, not about showing off in front of girls, I wouldn’t that lesson for quite some time, if at all. My parents had told me not to touch that fence, and not to put anything on it. I had unquestioningly obeyed until that day, when it seemed that my five year old manhood depended on touching that fence. I had to see if it hurt or not. I had very little if anything to gain from that knowledge, yet I still had to find out. It’s the same mindset Adam had when Eve brought him the Forbidden Fruit. He knew that eating it was a bad idea, but he didn’t want to look like a wimp. There are things out there we don’t have to experience to know if they’ll hurt us or not. We don’t have to experience that pain for ourselves to know that, we can look at the examples of so many other people who have already grabbed the fence and got shocked.

But fornication and all uncleanness or covetousness, let it not even be named among you, as is fitting for saints; neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks. Ephesians 5:3-4

What I Learned From A Card Game

Hm, a day late and a dollar short again. The demands of summer school have made deadlines difficult, so expect more delays in the future. This is an original piece, and I did a lot of scanning for it. Click on the card images to see an enlarged version.

What I Learned From A Card Game

I like table games. Be they card based or board-game style, I really enjoy them. Why sit around a TV all night when you can humiliate your friends and family at a game of skill and\or luck? I think more families would stick together if people just spent more time interacting with each other instead of passively watching fictitious cars explode.

I’m up for Monopoly, Risk, or even Hungary Hungary Hippos anytime, anywhere. If you know anything about these games, I claim the hat piece, Mexico, and the Green Hippo.

While you could probably derive some important life lessons from a game of Monopoly, I haven’t done so yet. That said, I was playing a card game with my family a few days ago that made me think a little.

That card game is Redemption. Redemption is a Christian Collectable Card Game. What that means is that it is instead of playing with pre-packaged decks of cards, each player constructs their own from the thousands of cards available. Cards come in booster packs and have varying degrees of rarity. My family has really enjoyed this game, and has spent many a Sabbath afternoon playing it since I bought the starter deck at a camp meeting Adventist Book Center ten years ago.

The basic idea of the game is to lead members of your “army of God” in battle against the “army of darkness” in order to rescue “lost souls.” It can be quite a bit more complex than that, but that's the general idea. All of the cards are based on biblical characters and events, even ridiculously obscure ones. Pretty much every bible character you can think of has a card, and quite a few you’ve never heard of have one too.

If you’ve ever wondered how Samson would have faired in a battle against Goliath (probably far better than against Jezebel), you can play it in the game. Or perhaps Simon Peter versus Haman? Ruth versus Judas Iscariot? Joshua versus the Whore of Babylon? It gets weirder than that, trust me.

Anyway, I decided I could make the game weirder than it already was. I used MS Paint to create an “Edward” hero, printed it out and glued it to the front of a worthless card, and surreptitiously slipped it into my deck. I figured that would highly amuse my family.

This meant that I was now a member of the “Army of God”, rubbing shoulders with guys like David, Paul, and Moses. I made my abilities considerably less than that of those characters, but it still felt pretty weird.

I drew the Edward card towards the end of the first game. At that point, I had been using a coalition led by Adino. I don’t really know who that is, but his scriptural reference (2^nd Samuel 23:8) says that he was “the Tachmonite that sat in the seat” and that he killed eight hundred people with his spear. Pretty cool guy. Anyway, he had successfully rescued four lost souls from the hordes of darkness.

Now, I had the Edward card. I was only one rescue away from victory, and figured it was time to reveal myself and win the game. I waited for my turn, and put my card down on the table in attack mode. The target was my brother’s captive souls, and he would have to fight me off, otherwise the game would belong to me.

After passing my ghetto homemade card around and after everybody laughed at it and me, the game went on. I was pretty confident that I had won this battle, after all, I had the “Sound the Alarm” card ready to play, which would allow two heroes to band together to rescue the soul. I would bring in my David card, and the two of us would be unstoppable. David is one of my favorite biblical characters, and I thought it would be pretty cool to win teamed up with him.

My brother didn’t put out an evil character to battle me though. Instead, he slammed the “Christian Martyr” card down on top of the “Edward” card. For those of you unfamiliar with a game, the “Christian Martyr” card means instant non-arguable death for a hero.

I had just been martyred. My turn was over. That was pretty unkind of him to do to his own brother. I should have attacked my mother instead. She ended up winning the game.

Thus my short foray into the realm of spiritual warfare ended.

Or has it? This experience made me start thinking about the heroes of the Bible. Some of them accomplished some pretty impressive things. Those of us raised in the church have had their stories drilled into our heads over and over again since cradle roll. It becomes easy to assign them legendary or superhuman status, to the point that we forget that they were all just like us: human.

Don’t tell me David wasn’t scared as he ran from Saul. Don’t tell me Daniel didn’t have his doubts as he was thrown into the lion’s den. Don’t tell me Noah worked on the Ark for a hundred years and never once considered that he may be insane. Don’t tell me Joshua never lost a little hope of making it to the Promised Land. Don’t tell me the constant beatings and stonings and shipwrecks and imprisonments never caused Paul’s enthusiasm to waver.

They weren’t working with anything that we don’t have. Arguably, it could be said that we have more than they did, what with the New Testament and religious liberty being the way it is. Still, they went out and did God’s will. They slipped up from time to time, as no person is without their Bathsheba moment, but ultimately they triumphed. They felt all the same emotions that we do, but the Bible still records them as heroes in The Army of God.

And there’s no reason we can’t overcome our weaknesses and enlist as well. I got “martyred” pretty quickly when I went out rescue “lost souls.” Are we willing to make that kind of commitment? Death doesn’t frighten me, but other things do.

I’m seriously considering going as a student missionary next year. Dedicating a year to God sounds like a very good thing, and I would very much like to do it. Still, I am reminded of the reasons I haven’t already done it. Just as I’m ready to make a commitment, my mind brings up a very plausible scenario of the negative things that might occur back home if I’m gone for a year. Still, the only reasons I can think of not to go are wholly selfish. God told Abraham to march across the desert into the unknown, national borders don’t seem all that bad in comparison.

Regardless of all this, in the game of Redemption, and in the reality of life, there are only two factions: The Army of God and The Army of Darkness. One cannot serve in the Army of God if they want only to please themselves. Risks must be taken, and we can only hope for the strength to take them. It’s the same dilemma faced by every Bible hero you can think of, and we must face it too.