Not Willingly

Jeremiah talks about suffering and mercy and the Lord's compassion (Lamentations 3). 

Though He causes grief, yet He will show compassion according to the multitude of His mercies.  For He does not afflict willingly.

Paul talks about how we are sons of God, joined to Christ, suffering now but awaiting redemption and glory (Romans 8).  Again we hear about God's unwillingness.

The creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope.

That must be why we call it God's "alien work." He doesn't want to punish, but He will do it if necessary to rescue us.



It's like Paul and Jeremiah are saying and believing the same thing.

Doth

Boy, the things you learn in choir....

"Doth" does not rhyme with "moth." It says like "duth," like as if it rhymed with "us" said-by-a-kid-with-a-lisp.

I guess it makes sense: it should sound like "does" except for the zzz.

Being in Love

Elad Nehorai writes that he didn't love his wife when they were married.  It is a most-excellent article about what love IS, and how selfish it is to "be in love," and even touches on Disney movies. 

A couple of quotes:

Marriage started sucking away that emotion.  I tried so hard to keep that fire going, to keep that emotion alight, but it got harder and harder.  I mean, how you can feel that burning love when you're sitting at the table discussing how to use the last $20 in your bank account?

Through giving, through doing things for my wife, the emotion that I had been so desperately seeking naturally came about.  It wasn't something I could force, just something that would come about as a result of my giving.



Megan, thanks for pointing out the article.
Other people, go read it.

Broken

Earlier this summer, we had to change filters on the Culligan water filters.  But after the maintenance, something went wrong.  The line keeps clogging.  We fix it.  The water works for a couple of days.  Then it clogs again.  Right now, we're buying water in town about 5 times a week.

Earlier this summer, I fixed the dryer.  Since then, the machine runs fine, but the exhaust vent keeps detaching from the exhaust hole through the window.  I keep fixing it. 

Last year, after I fixed the old [smaller] refrigerator, the temperature problem returned.  We struggled with puddles of water in the refrigerator for months until I finally fixed it a few weeks ago.  Well, at least, I think I fixed it.  Problems seem to recur around here recently.  I still hold out hope that the fridge is fixed-fixed.

Over the last couple of weeks, my computer has been misbehaving.  So my job-of-the-week has been to carefully transfer files and back up everything, with the plan of wiping the computer clean and reinstalling everything.  That scares me.  But it needs to be fixed.

At my doctor's appointment this week, he diagnosed what's wrong with my wrists.  It's not carpal tunnel after all.  It's arthritis, especially at the base of my thumbs.  That explains the brokenness in my hands.  There's really no good solution for it.  But at least I know what it is and what some of the options are.

All the neighbors have lawn tractors.  We have two push mowers.  The older one died (beyond resuscitation) today.

I'm beginning to think it's time to give up on gardening.  I love the fresh produce.  But the work required doesn't seem to mesh with that whole arthritis-thing.  Or maybe I'm just a wuss.

If you will excuse me, I'm headed back to my Project List Of Repairs.

Maybe He WAS Making Sense After All

The other day at work, the customer said something so confusing.

We turned on the microphones and said hello.  He didn't respond.  Fine -- he was rummaging around looking for whatever paperwork he needed to conduct business through the drive-up.  Since he had nothing to say, we turned off the mic. 

After a bit, I noticed that he was facing the tube through which we send paperwork back and forth from the employees to the customers.  I guessed that he was talking to us.  My partner turned on the mic and said, "Yes?" 

The man responded, "Thank you," and sent the tube to us. It arrived empty.  Odd.

"Thank you?  What kind of response is that??" my partner wondered.


So I explained to the customer that the mics were off and asked him to please repeat what he'd said a moment earlier.  He had asked, "May I please have a pen?"  When my partner said, "Yes," he thought she was answering him, and he responded with a polite "thank you."

I laughed with delight over the way the miscommunication came out on both ends.  When all the pieces were put together, it made perfect sense.  But hearing only one end or the other -- weirdo indeed.


So why are we prone to be irritated when somebody does something like that?  When the clerk is crabby, but you don't know how she was reamed out three customers ago?  When a driver does something dumb on the highway, but maybe he's just learning to drive?  When a friend seems to make no sense?  So often, we're just missing a piece here, or misheard a word there.  A little forbearance and a little clarification goes a long way.

The Handwriting on the Wall

And you, being dead in your trespasses
and the uncircumcision of your flesh,
He has made alive together with Him,
having forgiven you all trespasses,
having wiped out the handwriting of requirements 
that was against us,
which was contrary to us.
And He has taken it out of the way,
and nailed it to the cross.  (Colossians 2)


Remember Belshazzar (Nebuchanezzar's son)?  Big ol' party.  Lots of drinking.  Lots of worshiping idols.  A hand that appeared out of nowhere and started writing something on the wall.  People freaking out.  (You would too, if a bodiless hand appeared and started graffiti-ing up your wall.)  "Hey, remember Daniel?  Let's get him here.  He's really wise."

And what had the hand written?  "You have been weighed in the balances and found wanting" (Daniel 5).




A long time ago, in a galaxy state far far away, there was no midweek Bible study at our church.  The men had 9-to-5 jobs.  The women were stay-at-home moms, and many of them were involved in Explorers, a humongous, city-wide, non-denom Bible study.  They finally talked me into going, due in part to my desire for a preschool-like experience for my eldest kid.  Oh my goodness -- I'd never heard of so many rules for attending Bible class!

I broke rules on my very first day.  Explorers begins with opening worship, followed by small-group discussion of the previous week's lesson, and then everybody gathers again for what is essentially preaching on the week's passages.  You are not allowed to talk in the small-group discussion if you have not completed your at-home study of the passages and written your answers to the homework.  My first week?  I obviously hadn't done homework.  And I dared to talk.  Can you believe it?

(The ladies in my class were thankful.  They were confused by how often the Old Testament talked about "So-and-so, son of So-and-so, son of So-and-so."  I knew the explanation and told them the brief history tidbit.  And everybody was happy.  Until a couple of women from my church found out later that I'd broken the No-Speaking rule.  They were not happy.  Apparently, our small group gained a naughty reputation with the leadership for speaking too much and too candidly with each other.)

Over the weeks and months I attended Explorers, I grew to love the women in my small group.  Most of them were Baptist.  (In the South, "non-denom" has a decidedly Baptist feel to it!)  These women were burdened by the law.  They wanted to be good Christian women.  They desired the Lord and yearned for Him, but they were constantly being beaten up by the law.  They did not know Him to be a God of grace, but a god of rules and commands and laws and requirements.

Oh, another of the rules for Explorers small-group is "no denomination-specific discussion."  Everything has to be non-denom.  Uh.  Yeah.  I guess I broke that rule too.  I did manage (most of the time) to hold it in with regard to the sacraments and the office of the ministry and other Lutheran views.  But the gospel?  I had to speak the gospel.  How could I not?  And after all, supposedly all Christians believe the Gospel, right?  We're readin' the Bible here, folks!  How could we keep mum about the mercy of the Lord in Christ Jesus??

So when those dear women fretted that God would zot them for their inability to live as they ought, I talked about Jesus and His cross and the forgiveness of sins.  A few bristled.  Many sighed with relief.  Several hugged me and thanked me. 

Near the end of the year came the story of Daniel and the handwriting on the wall.  "You have been weighed in the balances and found wanting."

Oh, the outpouring of words that day.  The baring of hearts.  The fear.  So much fear.  "I'm not good enough."  "I am going to be found wanting.  I deserve to be destroyed."

Is there any greater joy than to be able to speak to a sinner: "But Jesus was the One put in the balance.  He took your sin.  He was 'found wanting.'  But His blood forgives your sin.  His righteousness is your own.  When God weighs you in the balance, all He finds is holiness and perfection.  No, it's not your own, that you earned.  But it is yours, because your Jesus gives it to you in His mercy and love."  And the person argues with you: "No, it just can't be.   You don't understand.  You don't know what kind of secret sins I have.  You don't know my heart's doubts."  And you get to "argue" back with them, "No, really.  He forgave all your trespasses.  He has wiped out the handwriting of requirements."



Sometimes it's really cool to be with people who aren't Lutheran, people who are tickled pink when they hear the gospel in all its fresh comfort.


Given the age of most of the women, and given how long ago this happened, many of the dear saints in my small group are probably already in heaven.  Someday I'll see them again.  And hug them.  And talking to them, my hidden Southern drawl will creep back into my usually-Northern voice. 

Today's Thought

When you are dead,
you don't know you are dead.
It is difficult only for the others.


It is the same when you are stupid.

stolen from Jane's Facebook

Prayer Chains

Elijah heckled the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 19): Your gods are asleep.  Or on vacation.  They can't heeeeear you.  Better speak up.

That's how we often treat prayer chains.  God doesn't know what's going on, so we need to tell Him.  Or God doesn't care very much, so we will arm-twist Him into doing what we demand.  Doesn't "storm the gates of heaven" sound a little like the storming of the Bastille -- crowds overpowering an enemy?

When we join in prayer (at the altar or via prayer chains), the point is not to make God do what we want.  In times of national disaster, or at times of cancer diagnoses, or when there's been a nasty accident, we pray for the sake of faith.   We pray that none of us would be scandalized in the Faith because of the circumstances of our own lives: "If this is happening to me, surely God has abandoned me."  We pray likewise that none of us is scandalized by the tragedies of our brothers and sisters: "What kind of a God allows this to happen?"

We pray that we trust the Lord.
We pray that suffering does not turn us from Him.
We pray that He uses events (good or bad) to draw us closer to Him.

Oh, yeah -- and we also pray that temporal suffering be alleviated if it be His will.

"Drain the Fat"

Those recipes are always telling you to brown the meat and then to drain the fat.  For years I was a good girl; I followed the directions.

Then butter grew more expensive.
 
It bugged me: I would drain the fat off the hamburger, and then I would add olive oil or butter or whatever to the recipe.  Why?  I began to use the grease from the hamburger as the fat in the recipe.

I understand that, for many years, it was popular to decry saturated fats.  "Drain the fat from the sausage?  Oh yes, then use margarine in the recipe."  "Throw out the hamburger grease, and then put Crisco in the skillet to saute the veggies for your casserole."  Science is beginning to catch up to my mantra of: "The fat God made must be healthier than the fat the chemists invented, regardless of what current scientific studies conclude."

But how do we explain decades-old recipes that said to "drain the fat" -- recipes before Hate-Saturated-Fats became trendy?

In one of our food-history books, I came across information about rations and scrimping during WWII.  According to this book, "drain the fat" (and donate it for needs pertinent to the war effort) was a patriotic thing to do.  Keeping your bacon grease or your hamburger fat to use for your own family's needs?  Selfish! 



Ah ha!  That may be part of the answer to The Great Drain-the-Fat Mystery!

Today's Laugh

Trying to understand the behavior of some people 

is like trying to smell the color 9.

stolen from Pam's Facebook

On the Straight and Narrow

Do you know the right way to behave?  Do you "walk the walk"?  

After all, Jesus said (Matthew 7:13), "Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it."

And, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I say to you, will seek to enter and will not be able. When once the Master of the house has risen up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and knock at the door, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open for us,' and He will answer and say to you, 'I do not know you'" (Luke 13:24-25).

That's got to be a frightening proposition for some people.  

But is it about poor behavior?  Is it about making sure you know the right rules and trying diligently to follow them? 

Or are these passages about how many gazillion ways we can concoct of not putting Jesus first?  Of course that would include wild living and selfish indulgence.  But even good, holy behavior and "pure living" can become the thing that displaces a Savior who rescues sinners.



The narrow gate?
Jesus said, "Truly, truly, I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture" (John 10:9).

Scoring the Soap

Due to a refrigerator malfunction, I've been on a soap-making binge here the last week.  The frozen tallow (which usually lives in the fridge's freezer) was taking up space in the deep-freeze.  In a bid to make more freezer space, I determined to make enough soap to rid the freezer of tallow.  (The lard gets to stay frozen for the sake of tortilla-making.  Thank you, Glenda!)

First lesson: do not score the soap too soon.   Soap recipes usually instruct you to let the soap sit for 12-24 hours before scoring/cutting.  No!  I did that once.  Scoring the soap was an atrocious job that time: the soap had hardened too much by the time I tried to cut it.  So I fell to the opposite extreme -- scoring the soap as soon as it would hold a shape (maybe after 60-90 minutes in the soap-mold).  I learned this week that the soap is much smoother and prettier when I wait 3-5 hours before scoring. 

So far I've done three regular 3# batches (27-30 big honkin' bars) and one small batch of olive-oil soap.  Two batches to go, and I'll have all the old tallow used up.  That should be enough soap to last me and Maggie four years!

Besides my standard lard/tallow, I've made soap out of Crisco before, but never anything else.  Due to the aforementioned refrigerator malfunction and its drips, my tiny little deep-fryer had water mixed in with the fat.  Dangerous!  So I washed the fat several times.  Then I found an awesome chart for how much lye and water to use when you're making soap out of oddball fats.  In a few months we'll be able to try a bar of olive-oil soap and see what we think. 

With All Your Heart, With All Your Soul, and With All Your Strength

Last week's Bible verse was about loving God with all your heart, soul, and strength (Deuteronomy 6:4-5).  This week's Bible verse is a continuation (verses 6-7)

These words which I command you today
shall be in your heart.
You shall teach them diligently to your children,
and shall talk of them when you sit in your house,
when you walk by the way,
when you lie down,
and when you rise up.

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart."
"These words shall be in your heart."

"Love the Lord your God with all your strength."
"Teach them diligently."

"Love the Lord your God with all your soul"
(which is sometimes translated "life").
And the verse talks about how all our being and doing (at home and away, morning and night) is when we are to speak God's words.

Y'know, a person might almost be tempted to conclude that loving God has something to do with being filled up with His words, clinging to His words, bubbling over with His words.

Caulking the Cracks

The tiny cracks in the siding should be sealed.  We don't want bugs or dampness to get in. 

And yet, in my recent wasp debacle, one of the prime rules I discovered is to NEVER seal a hole or crack in the house where bugs come and go.  After all, you may seal them in, and then you'll have a worse mess.

But ...

But if you don't seal the crack, then the insects will keep sneaking in. 


So the point is that cracks ought never to develop -- because there is no right way to deal with it?  Who comes up with this advice?

Reading Challenge: Update

Instructions were found on Jane's site to set up a reading challenge of a mere 5-10 books, something that seemed daunting as of last Christmas. Everything on my primary list (plus some extras where the book was the initial one in a series) has been read.  I've also read two books from the alternate list and some others.  I can now declare, without reservation, that I have met the goal. 

What's funny is that Gary mentioned a few days ago that he's so happy to see me being able to read again.  I wasn't sure what I thought of that: the weeks where I made great headway on my reading list was when I was too sick (or too crippled from wasp stings) to do much but lie on the couch, reading.  So the stories and/or learning are great.  The reason I'm lazing with a book -- not so great.  But maybe I'm learning something about not knocking myself out?



My primary list:
Anne of Green Gables   by L. M. Montgomery  Jan 24
Anne of Avonlea   (these two with Maggie) Feb 24
Christ Have Mercy   by Matt Harrison April 7
Mara, Daughter of the Nile   June 7

Love Divine   by Alan Kornacki July 30
A Great and Mighty Wonder July 31
One Thing's Needful Aug 5

Mitford's These High, Green Hills Aug 16
Out to Canaan    by Jan Karon Aug 27
A Common Life Sept 2


The list that someone else made for me:
Lutheran Catechesis   by Bender Dec 27, 2012
Old Testament Catechesis   by Bender March 1
New Testament Catechesis    by Bender
Bible Stories for Daily Prayer    by Fabrizius



Alternates:
Kristin Lavransdatter  by Sigrid Undset
To Kill a Mockingbird   by  Harper Lee May 8
Luther, the Reformer   by James Kittelson
The Right to Be Wrong   by Seamus Hasson
On Being a Theologian of the Cross   by Forde
Luther on Vocation   by Wingren July 15


Books not on the original list:
A Long Way from Chicago by R Peck audio book April 16
A Year Down Yonder by Peck audio book April 18
And She Was a Christian: Why Do Believers Commit
Suicide by Peter Preus May 7
Heaven Is for Real June 27

Psalm 119:176

I have gone astray like a lost sheep;
seek Your servant, 
for I do not forget Your commandments.

 "I do not forget Your commandments."  Worth a pat on the back for me?  "Oh yeah, man, I am such a good Christian and do such a fabulous job of obeying God's commands."

Then why, pray tell, do we need to be sought after?

How can someone go astray, be in need of rescue, and still say, "I do not forget Your commandments"? 

We're always so quick to make it all be about me ME me and my obedience.  But that just doesn't jive here.  If I am lost, I can't very well makes claims on God because of my obedience to His commands.

"I do not forget Your commandments" maybe, just maybe, means more about His promise to be faithful to us even when we're off gallivanting in selfishness.  Maybe "I do not forget Your commandments" is a bold prayer that He will hunt me up when in sinful blindness I am erring hour by hour.

The Pastor's Tone of Voice

The Word is the Word.  Does it matter how it's spoken?  Won't it be efficacious no matter how we say it?

The other day, as Pastor discussed the first commandment during chapel, he spoke in Jesus' stead: "Trust Me.  Trust Me." 

And my heart melted.
And I keep hearing that particular configuration of sounds: "Trust Me."

I don't know about you, but I've heard "trust Me" spoken in a scolding voice.  The tone carries the message that it's going to be a chore to trust God, but we'll just have to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and do it.

I've heard "trust Me" spoken in an arrogant voice.  The tone carries the message that God deserves to be trusted, and we are peons, and we just better get our groveling-act up-to-snuff.

But "trust Me" is a sweet invitation.  It's a word like unto a daddy telling a child, "I've got it all under control; it's going to be fine; I will take care of it for you!!!" 

And it's lovely when the non-verbal communication communicates that.

Deviled Eggs

James Beard advised in his book Hors D'Oeuvre & Canapes that no matter what else was served at a cocktail party, a tray of deviled eggs would always be popular and disappear the quickest.

from a kids' history book subtitled 

American Cooking from the 1920s through Today

by Loretta Ichord

Deviled eggs?  Oh YES please!

At a homeschool potluck once, three people brought deviled eggs.  About 7 dozen.  Some who proffered deviled eggs worried, "Oh, too many."  Nope.  They disappeared easily.

For symposium reception, I volunteered to bring deviled eggs one year.  Another woman told me that she was bringing three dozen deviled eggs, so I didn't have to.  Three dozen?  For 150+ people?  I brought several dozen.  So did someone else.  They disappeared easily.

My mantra is that there can never be too much fruit salad, and there can never be too many deviled eggs.  

And this history book backs me up!

"I Don't Believe in God"

Tuesday, October 8, 6:30 pm

Fireside Lounge at UW--Milwaukee

Pastor Weedon

The topic is

Tell me about the God you don't believe in --

I probably don't believe in Him either.

Huh.
That's some title.
The more I think about it, the truer I find it to be.
It is rare for someone to reject the God I believe in; it's almost always that they reject a god who -- somehow someway -- is a god-of-merits instead of a God-of-grace.

What's weird is that even many Christians reject the God I believe in, preferring instead of god-of-merits. (But they wouldn't say "I don't believe in God.")

I hope we can finagle a way to attend the presentation.

Daniel and the Lions' Den

So the governors and satraps hated Daniel (Daniel 6:4).  Why??  He was a good worker, honest, smart -- a good boss.  Why be against a good man promoted to being your boss?  That says something about human nature, about unwarranted hatred.

The decree to worship the king alone (6:7) wasn't just affecting Daniel.  It was a law for everybody.  Even if Daniel was the only person for whom they were intending to enforce the law, the other exiled Jews didn't know that.  Think how the families and the priests and everybody would have responded to this command.  And think how they would respond when they heard of Daniel's death-sentence and his 'resurrection.'

The law of the Medes and Persians could not be changed (6:15).  The sentence had to be carried through.  Not even the one who made the law could set it aside.  That's sort of the way God's law is.*    When Adam sinned, God's law ("in the day that you eat of it, you shall surely die") could not be changed.  Man had to die.  And as in the story of Daniel, the Man was sentenced to death.  And yet, after He/he was sealed in the lions' den, He/he came out alive.



* Footnote: The difference between God's law and Darius's law is that the inviolability of the law of the Medes and Persians was something of their own design.  But God's law being unchangeable and inviolate is because it simply IS; it's not, like, y'know, God being stubborn or something.

Abortion Pill

Granted, I was feeling a bit nauseated from pain anyway.  But it got worse as I stood in line at the Walgreens pharmacy.  The abortion pill was on display by the prescription counter, as well as perched alongside the Benadryl and Claritin, prominently displayed. 

Really?  Allergies.  Abortion.  Sneezing.  Itching.  All the same stuff, right?

I took a deep breath and willed myself not to cry.

The question is: Is there a drug store left that I could patronize without supporting the death of babies?  I'm guessing not.  There may be small independent pharmacies owned by Christians who refuse to sell abortifacients.  But I don't know of any around here.  

Fighting Wasps

AfterBite is amazing stuff.  So is baking soda.  I usually keep AfterBite in my purse.  But this past week I emptied the container and had to buy a new tube.

"They" say to deal with wasps at dawn and dusk when the pests are less active.  However, there is a problem with this plan.  When the boogers get hacked off that you're there, and they land on you, you don't realize this until they begin stabbing with their stingers.  Yeah.  And then you're FULL of bites. Do NOT try this.  "Dawn or dusk" should be when there's still enough light for you to see your enemy.

Wasp spray is better than flying-insect spray.

Don't Be So Judgmental

Sodom and Gomorrah.
The angels came to check out the place.  Lot saw them and invited them to stay at his house.  When they said, "Thanks, but no thanks, we'll camp out here," Lot wouldn't allow it.   When Lot would not allow his guests to be raped by the villagers who were banging on the door of his house, but offered his daughters instead, the men were hacked off (Genesis 19).  And what did they say?

"This one came in to stay here, and he keeps acting as a judge."

THAT is being judgmental?  

This Lot dude doesn't participate in their activities.  And he doesn't turn his guests over for abuse.  And their response is "he keeps acting as a judge."

Wow.  It doesn't take much to be labeled judgmental, does it?

You don't even have to say anything negative.  You don't have to scold.  You don't have to preach.  "Judgmental" is seen simply by not making the same choices that they do.

Wow.

Don't Be So Judgmental

So.  Apparently I was the troll yesterday.

A friend linked to a blogpost which kind of surprised me.  When I read it, I thought that some of the things we discussed last week at VBS were entirely pertinent and affirming and comforting.  So I made a brief comment, even though I didn't know the blog writer.

Dang it.  Never post comments when the discussion is with strangers.  I know that!  Why did I have a lapse today?

Oh, right -- I thought I had something encouraging to say.  But I was wrong wrong wrong, you see.  It's bad of the Church to extol marriage, you see, because it makes singles feel like second-class Christians.  We shouldn't be promoting marriage, you see, because what is truly important is love and community.  If that comes in marriage, fine, but there are plenty of friendships and couple-situations that are just as important as marriage.

And when I was foolish enough to mention what God's word SAYS about the blessing of marriage and how it reflects the image of God, that was naughty of me.   Bible verses are no help for people who are suffering, you see.  (???)  My experience and your experience count for something, you see, and let's not clutter what we know with old-fashioned stuff like God's word. 

Not only that, but even when I mentioned a Savior who forgives and rescues sinners, that was naughty too. 


This is what passes for Christianity?
This is how irrelevant Christians think God's word is?
We care more about hurt feelings than we care what God says?
Heaven forbid anyone talk about forgiveness, as that might imply sin.

It kind of shocks you to say something supportive and comforting and loving, and get smacked down for being a meanie. 

Time to Dig Potatoes

Ouch!  Shhhh: don't tell the bees and wasps where I am.  I'm hiding indoors, behind screens, waiting for them to chill out.  One little sting and two humongous stings/bites, and I'm a little worried about finishing the potato-digging.  Those angry fellows and their stingers had a ground hive (of which I was unaware until 10 minutes ago!) in my compost pile masquerading as a potato patch.

Apparently, I should have dug potatoes sooner.  Next year, Susan, do not wait until the vines dry up.  Go out and dig when the potato vines BEGIN to wither and dry.  This year, the red potatoes did okay.  [Rachel, Rachel: warning.  Do not swoon or puke at the rest of this paragraph.]  The Yukon Gold, however, with their tenderness and their thin skins, were a feast for the centipedes.  Yuck yuck yuck.  I did keep some that were unmolested.  But it was icky to dig in a spot where there should've been several potatoes and find only a swarm of fat centipedes.  Or to pull out three nice potatoes with a couple of slimy ones that were half eaten.  Next year, be earlier!!

About a month after planting potatoes this year, I had a huge pile of wood ash from the burn pit.  I spread it on half the potato patch, not knowing whether I was helping or hurting.  It was mind-boggling to see how the potato plants thrived where the ashes had been added to the compost pile.  But would the huge showy greenery mean lots of top and not much potato growing underneath?  Turned out there wasn't much difference between the two sections of the patch.  If anything, I think maybe the end with the ashes resulted in more food for the table. 

Well, time to head outside and see if I can finish the task.  But this time, I know what I'm up against.  I expect to disturb the wasp nest and make a run for it!   And if that doesn't work, I suppose the centipedes will enjoy the rest of my potatoes.

Flea Market

One of my jobs in an attempt to create margin has been cleaning out stuff for the flea market.  The sale was today, and it went well.  Hmmm, as far as the sales and the getting-rid-of-junk, it went well. 

We've been pulling things out of cupboards and the attic and the basement all summer, pricing it, and piling it in the garage.  Bright and early this morning, we set up the booth at church.  I headed to work while Maggie was in charge of selling junk precious goods.  After the bank closed, I joined the party.  Fun day, sitting outside with friends!  Warm, but not hot.  At the end of the day, a few items came home with me, while Julie hauled virtually all my leftovers to Goodwill with her leftovers. 

When we came home and counted the money, we cleared over $150 after paying for the booth and lunch and everything.  That's way more than I anticipated.  And there's more space in the house!  And we can park inside the garage again!



Only downside of the day: Zoe was injured.  I wasn't there, so I'm getting stories second and third hand.  But somehow she was hit with a toy while some kids were playing.  At the sound of her whimper, the grown-ups turned around and saw Zoe's face, hands, and dress covered with blood from a cut in her forehead.  She was very good in ER for the doctors to give her stitches.  Her momma reports that she's doing fine. 


And now, after a week of VBS and the flea market, it's time to get back to normal.  We haven't mowed in two weeks.  It's been longer than that since the house was cleaned.  Catch-up time!

I Have My Life to Live!

Those who have abortions are "not willing to sacrifice their comfort or convenience for a child, but they have no problem sacrificing a child for their comfort and convenience." 

Kristen Hatten

Prayer Walk for Peace

Re-enactment weekend at a nearby park.  From Greek Hoplites to Roman warriors to medieval Scots to fur traders to colonial America to War of 1812 to Civil War to WWII.   Great stuff!

One of the re-enactors was a Native American.  While helping kids do some beading, she was telling me about her recent mission trip to Russia for a prayer walk.  She was telling me how the trip was designed to help cultures understand one another, so that the cultural divide between eastern Russia and western Alaska (all of about 150 miles apart) might be overcome.  "I would talk to you and tell you what I believe, and you would tell me what you believe.  And since it doesn't matter, since we're all the same, since there's really no right or wrong, then we can learn to get along."

A)  What if I believe there IS a right and a wrong?
B)  If you believe there's no right or wrong way to believe, do you really believe what you "believe"?

That Wouldn't've Been MY Answer

Story: the raising of Lazarus (John 11)
Time: shortly before Holy Week
Characters: Jesus and Martha
Question:  I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live.  And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die.  Do you believe this?

And the answer from Martha?  

Nothing that looks like a reasonable answer to a direct question.

Yeah, yeah, sure, we're used to hearing the reading, so it may go in one ear and out the other.  But look how odd the answer is.

"People who believe in Me will not die, even though they die.  Do you believe that?"

"You betcha, Jesus.  I believe You're the Messiah."  



Wait -- He was talking about resurrection.  This interchange would make sense: "Do you believe I'm the Messiah?"  "Yes, I do."  And this interchange would also make sense:  "Do you believe that I give/am life for those dead?"  "Yes, You are."

But Martha's answer to the question about death-vs-life was "Yes, You are the Messiah."  

In other words, she knew the Old Testament scriptures to teach that the Messiah would come into the world to overcome death, to be the resurrection, to be life, to give immortality.  

I don't remember anybody teaching me when I was little that that's what the Old Testament was all about.  I don't even remember hearing that the Old Testament was all about Jesus -- much less that it was about the Anointed One who would bring to us eternal life.

But that was a no-brainer for Martha.

Dates of Easter

Grievous indeed that I need to have this in an easily accessible place, but what I think matters not.

2014:       April 20          April 20

2015:       April 5            April 12

2016:       March 27            May 1

2017:       April 16          April 16

2018:       April 1             April 8 

2019:       April 21           April 28

2020:       April 12           April 19

2021:       April 4               May 2

(Western Church in the first column.  Eastern Church in the second column.)

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Not hot.  Not cold.  Not humid.  Not dry.  A sweet softness to the air.

Picked raspberries to go on the breakfast oatmeal.

Ate the first tomato sandwich of the year.  Big fat slice of tomato from the ONE tomato that's ripened so far.  With avocado and onion and cucumber-from-the-garden and homemade mayo and freshly made pesto (with just-picked basil from the garden) on homemade whole wheat bread.

And lettuce salad for supper.  With cucumber salad.  And the first potatoes I dug this year. 

Is this heavenly, or what??  You go out to your garden and bring in fresh food and feast on it!



When I began to realize that heaven was far more than fulfillment of every hedonistic desire (that is, fruit salad galore, chocolate chip cookies without getting fat, seafood chowder, etc), I began to think that the food of heaven would be the Lord's Supper.  And only the Lord's Supper.  Although that certainly is the primary feast, it is also true that God made the world and said it was good.  So maybe we do get fruit salad in heaven!  And tomato and avocado sandwiches!

Those Thin Tent Walls

God is my refuge.

It's all through the psalms.  Refuge.  Rock.  Fortress.  Strength. 

And yet, when David wrote those psalms, the temple was not yet built.  They still had the tabernacle as the place of the Lord's saving presence.  It was constructed of cloth.

Not what we usually think of as a stronghold.




It is not just plain cloth, but the Word of God in and with the cloth.  For without God's Word, the cloth is just a plain tent and no refuge.  But with the Word of God, it is a refuge, that is, a life-defending fortress.

Vanity and Chasing After the Wind

Poor Solomon.  He's on his soapbox about how it's all useless.  You work your butt off, and then your stuff all goes to the man who comes after you (Eccl 1-2).  And who knows what that fellow is going to do with it -- how he's going to screw up all you worked for?

So, did he already know Reheboam would be his successor?
Did he already know that his son was the type of guy who couldn't hold the kingdom together?
Was he expressing not only "You can't take it with you" but also "You can't keep being an influence for good after you're gone"?

Pure Plastic?

So Andrew comes home with a bottle of water.  FIJI Natural Artesian Water.  It was what was available when he needed to buy some bottled water, so it's what he bought.

When I was washing the bottle for refilling, I noticed the spiel on the label:

Why travel to the South Pacific islands of Fiji for a drink of water?  FIJI Water’s aquifer is in a virgin ecosystem at the edge of a primitive rainforest, thousands of miles from the nearest industrialized continent.  This natural artesian aquifer protects the water until is is bottled at the source and shipped to you.  

So people want pure water from unpolluted sources.  Okay.

And some people are willing to pay extra for it.   Gotcha.

And they package this water in plastic?

That's where they lost me.

Keep on Praying

A slight twist on Dory's song:
Just keep praying.
Just keep praying.
Just keep praying praying praying.
What do we do?  We pray pray pray.

(I hope Nemo doesn't mind the tweaking.)

Pastor likes to make the point that the story of "The Friend at Midnight" (Luke 11) is NOT comparing God to the neighbor who doesn't want to hand over the bread.  It's contrasting God with that fellow.  The neighbor didn't love the demanding guy who was banging on his door, but God DOES love us.  How much easier it is to ask (and ask and ask) somebody who loves us and cares about us and has made promises to us!!

But [she wondered] if I really believed that God would give what I need, then why should I keep pestering him about it?  After all, I could pray once, and then just trust Him to do what is good and right, and not keep asking (and asking and asking).  So is my persistent prayer due to my lack of faith???

Pastor said no.

He said a mother would know what it is like to have children talk to them.  Don't parents delight when their children talk?  Isn't that what parents want?  Isn't it great to know that they trust you and enjoy talking to you?  Don't we love to hear their stories and their discoveries and their thoughts and their feelings?

Yeah.  We do.

(Now, hang on just a minute.  I know some of y'all are at the stage with kiddoes that you're thinking, "Uh ... uh ... well, uh ... sometimes I'm not so sure I delight in that.  Sometimes I kinda sorta want to lock myself in the bathroom to hide from it...."  Okay, let me put it this way:  If one of your kids stopped talking to you someday, your heart would break.  And you would miss him.  And you'd have no way to pour out your love to him.  And you'd rejoice when there is some small chance to talk again.  So yeah, you young moms, tired though you may be, hiding in the bathroom though you may be, you do TOO love hearing your kids talk.  It may not always be apparent to you, but deep-down you treasure it.  Trust me on this.)

So, yeah.  I guess I can "just keep praying praying praying."  And it's okay.  It's not annoying God.

Quite the contrary.

Baby

Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.
He was wounded for our transgressions.
He was bruised for our iniquities.
The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,
and by His stripes we are healed.  (Is 53)

By His stripes we are healed.

Children of the heavenly Father
safely in His bosom gather.
Nestling bird nor star in heaven
such a refuge e'er was given.

Let the little children come to Me.  (Mark 10)

For the transgression of My people He was stricken.
When you make His soul an offering for sin,
He shall see His seed,
He shall prolong His days,
and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand. 
(Is 53)

My people.

God His own doth tend and nourish.
In His holy courts they flourish.
From all evil things He spares them.
In His mighty arms He bears them.

Out of the depths have I cried to You, O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice.
Let Your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications.
O Israel, hope in the Lord.
For with the Lord there is mercy,
and with Him is plenteous redemption.
And He shall redeem Israel from all his iniquity.  (Ps 130)

Neither life nor death shall ever
from the Lord His children sever.
Unto them His grace He showeth,
and their sorrows all He knoweth.

A voice was heard in Ramah,
lamentation and bitter weeping,
Rachel weeping for her children,
refusing to be comforted for her children,
because they are no more.
Thus says the Lord:
Your work shall be rewarded,
and they shall come back from the land of the enemy.
There is hope in your future, says the Lord,
that your children shall come back to their own border.  (Jer 31)

Jesus said, "I am the Resurrection and the Life."  (John 11)

Though He giveth or He taketh,
God His children ne'er forsaketh.
His the loving purpose solely
to preserve them pure and holy.  (LSB 725)

Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in heaven their angels always see the face of My Father who is in heaven. 
For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost.  (Matt 18)

He lives, all glory to His name.
He lives, my Jesus still the same.
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives.   (TLH 200)

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
There shall be no more death,
no sorrow, nor crying. 
There shall be no more pain,
for the former things have passed away.
Then He who sat on the throne said,
"Behold, I make all things new."  (Rev 21)

E'en so, Lord Jesus, quickly come,
and night shall be no more.
They need no light nor lamp nor sun,
for Christ shall be their all.   (Manz)
 
By His stripes we are healed.

The Neighbors Moved Away

So they played loud music.  Music that I wasn't fond of.  That's not too big a deal.

But first impressions?  Boy, when they were checking out the place prior to moving in, and those kids were running through our yard, across our deck, and making leaps off our deck onto the grass below, that did not bode well. 

But, hey, I was impressed when the dad sent the kids over with an apology when the boys' party guests ran through my garden and trampled strawberry plants.

We were surprised last November when we arrived home after work to find Christmas light in OUR tree.  And a mega-ugly job of lighting up our huge old maple trunk.  It's hard to find Christmas lights done in an ugly way.  But these were!  And these lights were burning for three months, pouring light into our bedrooms at night.  In March, when the neighbor finally took down the lights on his eaves, we were hoping the lights on our tree would be removed too.  No such luck, though.

And then they moved.  The landlord apologized to Gary for whatever trouble this neighbor had caused: apparently other neighbors had been complaining for quite a while.  We saw that these people left a mess for the landlord to deal with, tossing garbage out at the back of the property rather than leaving it for the garbage pick-up.  It seemed characteristic....

So we headed out to remove the lights from our tree.  How did he accomplish this "decorating"??  The lights strands were STAPLED to the tree.  Fifteen feet high.  We have a huge ladder, and the only way we could remove these light-strands was with wire cutters and the extended-handle pruning saw.  There's still garbage up in the tree that we couldn't remove.  When we put lights on the indoor tree, we usually have one person standing on each side of the tree, passing light-strands back and forth.  HOW did this guy wrap lights around a 4' diameter, 15' in the air?  No wonder he didn't want to remove the mess!

We have a better feeling about the new neighbors.   Hooray!

The Story about Abraham's Persistent Prayer for Sodom

Maybe it's the math geek in me.  The part of the story (Gen 18) I always noticed was the countdown.  50?  45?  40?  30?  20?  10? 

I never noticed in verse 19 what the Lord was pondering about Abraham's status:  "For I have known him, in order that he may command his children and his household after him, that they keep the way of the Lord, to do righteousness and justice, that the Lord may bring to Abraham what He has spoken to him.”

The Lord loves us.  And we teach others about His love and mercy, so they too can hang onto that righteousness He gives. And the Lord needs to make sure we know (verse 17) about His punishment of sin so that we do not waver in trusting His goodness.  What we see and experience must never be allowed to override in our hearts the sweet promises He has made.

Fussing about Ordination Being Called a Sacrament

Crab, crab, crab.  "It's Catholic to call ordination a sacrament."  (Wait.  Did you read that last sentence correctly?  "Catholic" has to be spoken with a scrunched-up nose and have a definite tone-of-insult.)

I realize that the Roman Catholic Church teaches some things about ordination that aren't scriptural.  It almost seems to me it's like magic: the priest is given "indelible character" that makes him (in his own person!) able to do things laymen cannot.

But what if "ordination" is "being put under orders" -- and those orders are the commands of Christ to baptize and to preach and to forgive and to administer the Supper and to judge doctrine?  If the pastor's power is entirely in the Word of God, and if those actions are a means through which God gives grace (not particularly to the ordinand alone but to the man's whole congregation), then why would anyone object to a high view of ordination??

The Confessions themselves say:

If ordination be understood as applying to the ministry of the Word, we are not unwilling to call ordination a sacrament. For the ministry of the Word has God's command and glorious promises -- "The Gospel is the power of God for salvation to every one that believes" (Rom 1:16).  Likewise, Is 55:11 -- "So shall My Word be that goes forth out of My mouth; it shall not return unto Me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please." If ordination be understood in this way, neither will we refuse to call the imposition of hands a sacrament. For the Church has the command to appoint ministers, which should be most pleasing to us, because we know that God approves this ministry, and is present in the ministry.  (Apology XIII:11-12)

So, what's the problem?  Consider it a sacrament (without consenting to the errors of Rome).  Or consider it not-a-sacrament (without consenting to the errors of the Anabaptists ... a far more prevalent problem in today's society). But why should it be an issue?

Fathers in Luke 11

Look at all the fathers in Sunday's [three-year] Gospel (Luke 11:1-13).

"Our Father who art in heaven." 

Then comes the parable of the friend at midnight.  Did you notice that the neighbor (the one who doesn't want to get out of bed to hand over the bread) is a father?  He's in bed with his children.  He's unwilling to grant the unreasonable request of the dude next door, and we always think he's a selfish grump.  But maybe he's just trying to take care of his children.  (Every mama knows what it's like to have the babies awakened by noisy neighbors.  Yeah . . .  you know what I'm talkin' about.  We can understand the fellow-with-the-bread having loads of love for his kids ... and no heart for the guy who's pounding on the door and disturbing the munchkins.)

Then comes the example of the human kids asking their human dads for something necessary, and how daddies take care of their kids instead of hurting them.

Then comes a heavenly Father who gives the Holy Spirit.

Dads.
Dads.
Dads.

A Post about Nothing

(I didn't watch Seinfeld, but I think that's the line people used about the show.)

I found the old Playskool wooden puzzles and brought them upstairs.  Zoe had a great time with them yesterday.  She's just the right age for it. 

Our Culligan water filters needed replacing.  The salesmen think our system is obsolete and should be replaced.  I think they're trying to sell something.  But there's the niggling fear: what if they're right?  What if I'm spending the bucks on new filters, and it turns out to be wasted because the system is too old.  Why, oh why, can't I buy an appliance once and have it last my whole life long??

I was mean to the septic system today.  I put bleach in the wash.  Those white bath towels were looking so grungy.  They're still not white-white, but they look so much better.  Story is that one of my grandmas prided herself on having the brightest whitest laundry around.  She would be horrified at me.

Andrew started full-time work as a CNA.  He works evening shift.  

I'm hungry.  I am SO looking forward to Tuesday or Wednesday -- and a happier gall bladder -- so that I can have soup or burritos or lentils or a pbj or a hamburger or my favorite tilapia recipe.  [drooooool....]

Poor little granddaughter.   Her daddy has crud feet.  And her momma and grandma and great-grandma have crud feet.  Really now -- bunions already when she was two?  Thanks to a generous soul at church passing along virtually new "hand-me-downs," Alia wore Birkenstocks last summer.  This summer she's been aching but unable to explain why -- unable to know that this ain't how it's supposed to be, folks.  But wise Katie managed to figure it out and bought special supportive shoes and inserts.  (Really?  Inserts for a preschooler??  Yikes!)  Child is much happier!

Andrew and I have been hauling wood chips from the town's compost pile.  My plan was to put down cloth in certain weedy spots and cover it with a hefty pile of wood mulch.  I need to cut down on the amount of work around here, and mulch seemed like A Plan.  I'm beginning to wonder, though, if the wood chips are already too composted.  There seems to be a lot of dirt in with the chips.  Maybe I'm just going to end up with shallow-rooted weeds. 

Black raspberries came up volunteer.  Yowza -- I thought red raspberries had prickly thorns.  Nothing compared to these black raspberries.  These delectable little guys are the kind of thing you'd want to plant around your castle, next to your moat.  Yup, a fence of these canes would be some serious protection. 

Met with the lawyer this week about guardianship for Maggie.  After reading the paperwork, it appears that there are less drastic ways of accomplishing what we need, such as Power of Attorney paperwork.  So we're looking into those matters.

If we used Divine Service 3 (aka "page 15") every Sunday for the next few years, I do not think I would get tired of the Lack Of Variety.

Things have been kind of slow at work while our road has been under construction.  I'm looking forward to business picking up again soon.  I hate sitting at work during those occasional 10 minutes stints without customers, knowing that there's plenty to do at home.

The other day, I saw a little girl at the grocery store that looked amazingly like Alia.  When she turned around, it WAS Alia.  You know what?  There's something incredibly joyous about bumping into friends and family at the grocery store.  Rather than leaving with my groceries, I bopped through the store again, just to grab a few minutes with Katie and the girls.  These chance encounters provide a dose of happiness that is unreasonably huge.  Love it love it love it!

We're trying to declutter.  The weekly trash piles have been huge recently.  The give-away trips to Goodwill have been more frequent.  The pile in the garage for a rummage-sale is growing!  "But we could use this for [fill in the blank]."  NO!  Fighting the urge to hoard!!

Maggie is on a Beverly Cleary jag.  I'm just a tad jealous.

Someone here purchased a Wii.  I have mixed feelings.  The other people who live here do not have mixed feelings.

That's enough "nothing."  I probably left out some major stuff from this update.  But my brain is pre-occupied with my tummy ache.  So this is all there is.  For now.

Used Furniture

A lovely little consignment store recently opened in Sussex.  Framed art.  Furniture.  China.  A few books and rugs and other items.  Good prices.  More expensive furniture than Goodwill, but it seems to be in better condition. 

It's on Main St, just west of the hardware store.  Great service.  Check 'em out.

Gall Bladder

(Notes to remind myself.  Nobody else will want to bother reading.)

Low-fat vegan diet for several days: no caffeine, no sugar, no gluten, no alcohol.  Raw fruits and veggies as much as possible.  Lots of cukes, beets, tomato, lemon juice.  Rice salad works well.

Day before and morning of cleanse:
No fat.  No, really -- NO fat: olives, avocado, coconut milk, nuts, crackers.


Day starting the cleanse:
2:00 p.m. -- begin fast.  Drink plenty of water because of the salt later.  Unsweetened herbal mint tea is okay too.
6:00 -- first potion (3/4 cup water or apple juice with 1 Tbsp epsom salts)
8:00 -- second epsom-salt potion; prepare another potion for morning and put by bed
9:15 or 9:30 -- get ready for bed, pj's and brush teeth
9:45 -- mix 3/4 cup olive oil with juice of 3 lemons or 2 grapefruit (1/2 or 3/4 cup juice); shake well in jar until thin and frothy; go to the bathroom
10:00 -- drink the "salad-dressing" potion; it may help to use a straw or to chase sips with honey; drink it quickly (within 5-10 minutes); immediately go to bed; do not clean up the kitchen; lie down on the right side in the fetal position and stay still for at least 20 minutes; okay to get up overnight to use bathroom if necessary

Day ending the cleanse:
6:00 a.m. or later -- another dose of epsom salts; go back to bed
8:00 (or 2 hours later) -- another dose of epsom salts (may skip if stomach is too nauseous), then relax for another two hours
10:00 (or after 2 or 3 trips to toilet) -- may begin juice
10:30 or 11:00 -- may have some fruit
12:00 -- may begin eating light food
supper -- simple and easily digestible food




Organic better.
Freshly juiced juices better than purchased.

Decorating Opinions?

Unlike me, some of you have, well, y'know, taste.  And some of you enjoy looking at decorating magazines.  So I'd like to ask for input.

If these are my [ahem] outdated kitchen cabinets,
and if I have no intention of updating them,
and if I'd like a lighter kitchen,

would it work to paint the cupboard doors?

1:  What's trendy is irrelevant.  If I accomplish this project within five years, I'll be patting myself on the back for speediness.

2:  If the cupboard doors were white or some other near-white color and the cupboards themselves remained dark, would the outline of the dark wood look super-tacky, or elegant, or some blah-in-between?

Unripe Avocado

Again?  We cut into an avocado, expecting to add deliciousness to a sandwich, and it wasn't ripe enough.  Let's get real -- it wasn't ripe at all.  When it happened last month, I chafed at putting a whole avocado into the garbage.  So when it happened again this month, I didn't want to waste another one. Time to start a google-hunt.

I decided to try an avocado hair mask.

Because the fruit wasn't ripe, I let it sit for several days.  I don't have the foggiest idea why it didn't mold.  But it didn't.  At least, not this time.  The cut edges dried.  The middle under the dried edges continued to ripen somewhat.  Eventually, I followed online instructions to mash/puree the avocado with olive oil, smoosh it through my hair, cover it with a shower cap, heat it with a blow-dryer for a couple of minutes, and then let it sit for an hour.  I washed my hair.  The next morning I rinsed it thoroughly again with plain water and let it dry.

And today I have sproingy-boingy soft curls instead of slight waves.  Nice!

"Luther on Vocation"

Wingren's book isn't what I expected.  Loads of people had recommended it as a fabulous book about vocation.  There are definitely good parts, but overall I'm not as impressed as I thought I'd be. 

From the title, I'd expected the book to be virtually all Luther.  It's not.  It's Gustaf Wingren, and he is explaining his take on Luther's take on vocation.  He also disputes other authors' take on Luther's take on vocation.



I also noticed the use of the word "vocation."  There is some disagreement among us about whether vocation is law or gospel or both or whatever.  And as I've been reading Wingren, I think part of the reason for this disagreement can be attributed to his book.  He keeps using the word vocation and "interpreting Luther" as it were ... but he substitutes the word vocation when Luther's word in that particular quote was station or office.

Vocation is from the Latin for "calling."  As in, "The Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, ...."   Vocation is the call to live by faith in whatever station or office God has placed you.  Yeah, so, when Wingren flip-flops "vocation" and "station" (and when we then do the same thing) discussions are muddied and convoluted. 


And then there's the section on prayer.  Wingren points out that we shouldn't be praying for things God has promised through means.  In other words, I can't sit on the couch and eat bonbons and watch Oprah, and then complain at 7:00 because God didn't give us supper.  God gave me a grocery store and money, and a garden and a knife and an oven, and that is how He gives us supper.  But then Wingren goes on to suggest that God will be hacked off at us if we pray for things and haven't done everything in our power to bring Whatever-We-Prayed-For into being.  According to that, I guess I'd never pray because I could never do enough to provide for myself.  Furthermore, he makes it sound like prayer is a last resort: when there's nothing left for you to do to solve the situation, that's when you can pray for help.  I just have to keep reminding myself that Wingren is trying to argue against prayer-as-a-magic-wand.

Good aspects of the book coming up in another post...

But They're WRONG

Jews have no dealing with Samaritans (John 4). 
The Samaritan (yeah, you know, the good Samaritan, the one in the parable) was somebody the beaten-up Jew considered an enemy (Luke 10). 

But let's think about it:  It was not okay for the Samaritans to worship someplace besides Jerusalem.  It was wrong for Jereboam (that long-ago king) to have set up a church that wasn't the temple in Jerusalem.  So the Jews were right to insist that worship belonged only where God had instituted it.

What was wrong was hating the errant Samaritans for their error.  "They screwed up.  FINE.  Just leave them to their badness.  FINE."

Nope.  Not fine.


"... Love to the loveless shown
that they might lovely be."

Serendipitously, this same topic

 came up on another blog this week.

The Lawyer's Version of Law

When the lawyer wanted to trap Jesus in His words (prior to the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10), Jesus asked, "What is written in the law?  What is your reading of it?"

Of course, the lawyer answered with a synopsis of the Rules.  And sure enough, that is in the law.

But what else is in "the law," the Torah? 

What if Jesus asked, "What is written in the law?  What is your reading of it?" and the answer was something like, "The Lord shall provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering" (Gen 22)?  Or "Stand still, and see the salvation which the Lord your God will accomplish for you this day" (Ex 14)?

The Good Samaritan

We self-righteous humans are prone to thinking the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10) is all about what we should DO. 

I find it interesting that the very next verses in Luke are the story of Mary and Martha.  Martha is fretting because there's too much to DO, and Mary isn't DOing.  She's sitting there, soaking up Jesus' preaching. 

I'm supposin' that these are not two disconnected stories.  The events at Lazarus's house shed more light on the parable. 

Yup.