Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty Gates

We sing it every Advent. It's from Psalm 24:
Lift up your heads, o you gates,
and be lifted up, you everlasting doors,
and the King of Glory shall come in.

What gates?
Gates of heaven?
Gates of Jerusalem?
The doors of our hearts?
The pastors?
And where are these "heads"? On us or on the gates?
Even though I hear this often in hymns and sermons, I still don't know what it's about.

And then in Didache recently, we were discussing the Second Coming. In Mark 13, as He speaks of both the crucifixion and His coming at the Last Day, Jesus says, "When you see all these things happening, know that it is near -- at the doors!"

Doors, eh?

And then He tells them to watch: "Take heed, watch and pray; for you do not know when the time is. It is like a man going to a far country, who left his house and gave authority to his servants, and to each his work, and commanded the doorkeeper to watch." You have to lift up your head to watch for something.

Causes of the Civil War

Slavery versus abolition?
Nationalism versus states' rights?
You hear both sides.

Tonight as Andrew and I were listening to a presentation on the Civil War, I think I finally figured out something. Both issues brought on Southern secession.

Basically, the states that seceded between Lincoln's election and inauguration were the southern Southern states that wanted to protect the institution of slavery and even expand it by importing more slaves and making slaves cheaper to buy so that everybody could have one. But the northern Southern states were waffling; they were still in the USA when Lincoln became president. Virginia and the other border states bailed on the USA and joined the CSA after Fort Sumter. For them, nationalism could not overcome the thought of the federal government trampling states' rights.

This makes sense to me. That would be why you hear primary-source material which sounds, beyond a shadow of a doubt, as if the war were most certainly fought over the issue of slavery and because some Americans thought dark-skinned people weren't really people but property. And yet other primary-source material just as clearly and surely makes the case that the war was not about slavery but about political power. The viewpoint would depend on which part of the South we're talking about, and when they left the Union, and why.

Not Bored!!!!

So Maggie comments on how there aren't that many days until Christmas, but still Christmas seems So Far Away because, y'know, she doesn't really have anything to do ...

... and ...

... uh ...

"No! I didn't mean that! I'm not bored! I have things to do! Yes! I do! It's just that it seems so far to Christmas, but .... uh .... REALLY! I AM NOT BORED!"



Around here, "I'm bored" is met with plenty of suggestions. There's a bathroom to clean, dishes to wash, and a myriad of other chores. The look on Maggie's face as she realized, mid-sentence, what she was saying to her mom ... priceless!

Homeschooling: An Intellectually Stimulating Job

On Saturday I was chatting with a woman at Gary's company Christmas party. She had just started her job about five weeks earlier and had been very nervous, just as I am about my new job. She said that, the week before she started, she kept thinking of all the things that might go wrong. But after she started, she found the job to be so intellectually stimulating. She promised me I'd find the same thing after being at home with kids for so many years.

A job? Intellectually stimulating?

My job for the last couple of decades has been exceptionally varied. I have managed my own time and priorities. I have taught children with various strengths, weaknesses, skills, motivations, and learning styles. Just recently, I have played with exponents and graphed quadratic functions, read literature set during World War I, studied different economic systems, explored the causes and results of the Mexican-American War, and read about statistical analysis and how it can be abused and twisted for propaganda's sake. Over the years I have studied more about the Civil War and whales and mountains and Shakespeare than I ever dreamed anyone could know. I have repaired large and small appliances. I have delved into the intricacies of my daughter's birth defects, cardiovascular system, speech therapy, and learning disabilities. I took on gardening and canning. I have become a superb cook and bread-baker, and I know an awful lot about nutrition and a little about herbology and alternative medical care. If I'm not the Queen of Frugal, I am at least a contender for the crown, and that takes creativity and hard work. I stayed up on politics, testified at hearings at the state capitol on various pieces of legislation, and led homeschooling workshops for hundreds of parents. I have edited theology books and articles by Scaer, Korby, Bender, and Fabrizius.

And somebody thinks, in comparison to this (this just-a-housewife job), being a bank teller will be intellectually stimulating?

Seeing All Those Families

Gary's business celebrated yesterday with their annual Christmas party. I was struck again and again by how many employees said, "It's SO NICE to see all the families here, to see all the kids!" The owner, too, commented to us as well as to the whole assembly about how great it was to see all the spouses and the kids. Such a happy day!

And it is nice to see how the bosses and co-workers enjoy seeing each other's families. It is super that the company includes kids in the Christmas party and the annual zoo outing. I like it that they do this.

And yet, there's this little voice in me that says it's sad that families are separated so much of the time. It's sad that mommies and daddies are away from their children for their workday. It's sad that families are not working together in their cottage industry and the garden and the kitchen and the workshop, maintaining a home and business together.

Yes, it is a great blessing to have a job with an income, and a great blessing to be in a family-friendly work environment. But wouldn't it be lovely if families were together so that a "family-friendly work environment" seemed oxymoronic to most of us?

Scamming Yourself

No matter how much I convince myself to maintain a reasonable perspective, no matter how much I hang onto the Gospel, no matter how much I tell myself that everything's going to be all right (and think I'm believing that),

cold sores and an upset tummy show me up.


My doggone body betrays the reality of my unbelief when my mind and heart may think they are set aright.

Miscarriage and "The Necessity of Baptism"

So Wednesday morning in chapel (after Rachel called about the baby but while there was still a smidge of hope that the ultrasound might find a heartbeat), we prayed in the Great Litany for expectant mothers. And then on Thursday morning we had the story of Leah and Rachel and their children. And then during Bible class we discussed the article in the Augsburg Confession on baptism and how baptism is "necessary for salvation."

Bonnie asked about the thief on the cross. Pastor's mini-answer was that we don't know he wasn't baptized. But then the main answer: even if he wasn't, Jesus said, "Today you will be with Me in paradise." Jesus' word is what matters!! Pastor also pointed out that "without God's word, the water is plain water, but with the Word of God, it is a baptism, that is, a life-giving water." In other words, it is the Word which makes baptism what it is. It is the Word that has the power. It is the Word of God which saves, which imparts faith, which forgives sin.

I had to ask after class about little babies who die before baptism. In my intellect, I knew the answer. But I still needed to hear the answer.

Pastor re-spoke what he had said in class about the malefactor on the cross. He reminded me of God's desire to save the baby and that this child's lack of baptism would not thwart God's eternal plan. He reminded me that the baby had been hearing God's word. (And none of that "but the baby doesn't have ears yet." Go look at Romans 10:17 and all the stories where Jesus healed the deaf -- God's word creates hearing even when the person doesn't have the physical equipment to hear the gospel which is being preached to him.)

Pastor pointed out 1 Corinthians 7:14, where it says the unbelieving wife is sanctified by her Christian husband, and the unbelieving husband is sanctified by his Christian wife, and how their children are holy. He reminded me that "the Word of God is the only holy thing we have" and that is what Paul is referring to in his advice on marriage. But this also means that the Word of God spoken and sung in the lives of the parents is how the Holy Spirit is working faith in their children, "when and where He pleases, in those who hear the Gospel. And the Gospel teaches that we have a gracious God, not by our own merits, but by the merits of Christ, when we believe this."

And for the sake of my small brain which needs pictures and illustrations and simple explanations, he gave me an analogy. Nutrition is necessary that the baby might grow and live physically. Babies get their nutrition by suckling at the breast. But does that mean they don't get any nutrition before birth, just because they cannot yet suckle? Of course not. How silly. Things are different before birth. God provides nutrition in a different way prior to birth. In the same way, Jesus' blood is necessary to cover sin. God's Word delivers His atonement to us. But there are some differences in how that merciful blood is delivered to us before and after birth. (Okay, it's not a perfect analogy. But it's good. And it helps.)

Jesus took on human flesh in the womb of His mother Mary. He joined Himself to us that He might save His little brothers, even the ones still in the womb. "He was little, weak, and helpless. Tears and smiles like us He knew. And He feeleth for our sadness. And He shareth in our gladness." He became man and died for our sin that our babies might have the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. For the promise IS "to you and to your children."


Okay, y'all didn't need to hear that, I suspect. But I needed to write it out.

Loss

Sometimes, when you most need to hear "I'm sorry for your loss" and comfort and sympathy, that's when you don't want to hear it. When love and support are verbally expressed, your tough perseverance flies out the window.

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

After a long wait, Rachel and Matt were expecting a baby mid-summer. The baby died this weekend.

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

Sometimes it's hard to go to church when you're suffering. It can be emotional. Hearing the solid truth of God's love and tender mercy may make you cry. And yet, where else is there help and rescue?

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

Temples Made With Hands

Surely in temples made with hands
God the Most High is not dwelling.
High above earth His temple stands,
all earthly temples excelling.

Those lines from "Built on the Rock" have long bothered me. God does come to our churches. His preaching lays Him on our hearts. His body lies on the altar and is fed into our mouths. His blood washes over our children in baptism.

And yet, those lines from the hymn reflect Acts 7 and Isaiah 66. How can you argue with the Bible?

Pastor talked on Sunday how God had told David that his son would be the one to build the temple (2 Samuel 7:12-13). And his son Solomon did build a temple of cedar and gold. But his Son Jesus was the true Tabernacle, the true Temple, the eternal temple that could not be destroyed forever by Babylonians or by Roman soldiers. And when His body was destroyed, in three days He raised it up (John 2:19).

So God does not dwell in temples made with hands: rather, He dwells in temples made with His word. Our physical buildings are indeed His dwelling place -- but only when they are built by His word which flows forth to sanctify the place, the preacher, and the hearers.

Stephen's Sermon

In Acts 6, Saul/Paul and the other men from the Synagogue of the Freedmen stirred up the people so that Stephen was brought before the Sanhedrin. They said he was preaching this Jesus who wanted to overturn the Law. They said he wanted to change the customs Moses delivered.

Pastor pointed out on Sunday that
1) they didn't really know what the Law was; they saw it as a bunch of rules that they could follow if they tried hard enough; they didn't get it that the Law showed them their sin and that atonement was necessary.
2) their fathers hadn't loved Moses even "back in the day"; the Israelites murmured constantly against Moses and even tried to overthrow him.

The point is that sinners always reject the one who comes with God's salvation. God's messengers cannot expect to be embraced and loved.

Acceptance

Andrew was accepted into the RN program he applied for. He's in the process of updating his vaccinations. His program planning meeting is middle of next week. They'll have to do a criminal background check -- I think he'll pass. Now we just have to figure out a way to buckle down to the schoolwork again after Thanksgiving, while also making adjustments to having me gone to work so much of the time.

Advent

The Spirit and Church cry out:

Come, Lord Jesus.

All those who await His appearance pray:

Come, Lord Jesus.

The whole creation pleads:

Come, Lord Jesus.

Washer Repair

Having lost a pair of jeans, I went exploring in the laundry room. Ah ha -- a load of laundry was sitting in the washer. Since Wednesday. Ick. So I pour in a little vinegar and put it on a second spin cycle. When I come back later, the machine is sitting there, full of water, unable to drain and spin. Oh no!

I love the internet! I found possible causes for the problem. I found a video that told me how to take the cabinet off the machine. (I've taken the washer apart before to do repairs, but as I blunder my way through it on my own, I end up taking apart a lot of things that don't need to be dismantled. I love the videos that tell you where to start and what to do next!) We discovered which part was broken. Gary duct-taped the lid switch in place so that the machine is usable if we treat it gently and use it as little as possible. I ordered the replacement parts online, and they should be here in a week.

This is a whole lot better than a $70 housecall fee and $50-100/hour for the repairman.

(Crossing fingers in hopes that we don't still need to call a professional to install the parts.)

Shoe Shopping

If someone were on heart medicine or depression medication or a thyroid prescription, I suspect people would understand if the person was worried about going off his medicine. How is this going to work? What's going to happen to me? How will I cope with the changes? But I don't think the person would be told that the medicine was just a crutch or that "everybody else manages without it."

We have found ways to cope with Maggie's vcfs, poverty [well, y'know, American-style poverty], depression, foot pain, and assorted health problems that came from living in The House Of Mildew. Thing is, quite a few of those coping mechanisms are out-the-window with my starting a job. That makes me nervous. We've got some problems to solve. Hopefully, having the whole family pitch in with the work and cutting back on the standards will help resolve some issues. There needs to be some serious reconsideration of Maggie's education, goals, methods, resources, support, etc. Ack -- thinking! Ack -- decisions!

But I think one problem is solved -- the shoes. I have spent between 20 and 25 hours shoe-shopping in the last week. (I hate shopping.) I buy shoes, bring 'em home, wear 'em indoors for an hour, and take 'em back. Driving home from the shoe store again on Wednesday, I was ready to phone the bank and tell them to give the job to somebody else: it was too overwhelming to consider going back to the world of that much pain in my feet and legs. But hooray hooray -- I found something online that looks like it should work. The H.R. Dept at the bank okayed the shoes for being professional enough; the shoes are nearly as flat as my tennies; they are open-toed with adjustable straps in the vicinity of my bunions; and [ta da!!] they will accommodate the orthoses I wear in my tennies all day every day. I am utterly overjoyed at the prospect of wearing something that's not going to have me in tears at the end of the day, that's not going to require pain meds and ice packs every evening.

Somehow, this is a massive relief. The other problems no longer seem insurmountable. (Lord, have mercy: I sure do hope that these shoes turn out to be what I expect them to be, and not too short.)

Today's Laugh

This is lifted off the internet; it is about neither me nor my mother.

This is more embarrassing for my mother than for me because I wasn't quite four years old when it happened. My mother taught me to read when I was 3 years old (her first mistake). One day I was in the bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar. I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping napkins in the bathroom. Didn't they belong in the kitchen? Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts she told me that those were for special occasions.

Now fast forward a few months. It's Thanksgiving Day, and my folks are leaving to pick up the pastor and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone. Mine was to set the table. You guessed it! When they returned, the pastor came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my father, who roared with laughter. Then came mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw each place setting on the table with a "special occasion" napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tails in so they didn't hang off the edge. My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent the other adults into further fits of laughter. "But Mom, you SAID they were for special occasions!!

Today's Laugh

We visited our newly married daughter, who was preparing her first Thanksgiving dinner. Her father noticed the turkey thawing in the kitchen sink with a dish drainer inverted over the bird. He asked why a drainer covered the turkey.

She looked at me and said, "Because Mom always did it that way."

"Yes," I replied, "but you don't have a cat!"

(adapted from A. C. Stokers, Jr.)

The Spread of His Glory

The chorale version of the Sanctus goes:
Holy is God, the Lord of Sabaoth.
His glory fills the heavens and the earth.

(See also Isaiah 6.)

So, if the glory of God is seen chiefly in the love and mercy which moved Him to lay down His life and suffer for our sake,

then is His glory spread through the whole earth when Christians suffer for the sake of the Gospel? They may be martyred. They may be persecuted. They may bear the sins of others, returning love and forgiveness when they are mistreated. And that goes on through the whole earth, year after year, decade after decade, in little ways and big ways, filling up the whole earth with mercy. Granted, when we poor sinners suffer for the sake of the Gospel, it is a mere hint of Jesus' suffering, and when we show mercy we are still tainted by sin.

Remember in Acts where it says Luke's gospel was "all that Jesus began to do and teach"? It was because Jesus continued "doing and teaching" through the apostles, as recorded in Acts. Maybe the glory of His sacrificial love continues to spread through the world via His Christians.

Zion Hears the Watchmen Singing

The pastor --the watchman-- sings: "Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the night in which He was betrayed, took bread. And when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to His disciples, saying, 'Take, eat, this is My body' ...."

Zion hears the watchmen singing,
and all her heart with joy is springing.
She wakes, she rises from her gloom
for her Lord comes down all glorious,
the strong in grace, in truth victorious.
Her star is risen. Her light is come.
Now come,
Thou blessed one,
Lord Jesus,
God's own Son.
Hail, hosanna!
We enter all
the wedding hall
to eat the Supper at Thy call.

Her Lord comes down to the altar, to join Himself to us in the bread and wine.

And we sing Hosanna. (We do, don't we? That's in the communion liturgy.)



The pastors (the watchmen) are called to guard and protect us. Therefore they call to us in the sermon to awaken us that we might go forth to meet our Lord at the altar.

Now let all the heavens adore Thee,
let men and angels sing before Thee
with harp and cymbals' clearest tone.

"With angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify Thy glorious name ...."

Today's Laugh

Two men walked into a bar, the third one ducked.



From Glenda. :-)

Interview Results

The job interview went well. I liked the manager of the branch. But what I liked most is that this is a job that appears to have no ethical dilemmas for me. I'm sorry if this is offensive, folks, but I would have a very hard time working at McDonalds, selling pop and burgers on white buns. And I would have a hard time working at Kohl's, where you have to convince a certain number of people to take credit cards if you want to be scheduled for more hours. My heart leapt when the manager was describing to me that our bank does not push credit cards and push loans; yes, they offer them, and when people want those things we'd prefer they get them from us rather than a competitor. But we don't try to sell people on a product that will not be to their best interest. The manager and personnel director also talked about the importance of family and how the job should take us away from family as little as possible. And they told me that they are closed for holidays and will never open on Sundays as some banks are beginning to do.

They offered me the job. Training week (full-time) starts December 6. After that I suppose it will seem like a vacation to go to half-time.

Luckily I found a black blazer at Goodwill with unreasonably long sleeves; they actually come down to my wrist. But finding professional-looking shoes is going to be another problem -- orthotic inserts, plus something in my bizarre size. I think the entire paycheck for the full-time week is going to go for a pair of shoes (well, that and the taxes ...).

You know what? Every time we have a major change in life, it is preceded by a van wreck. Next time there is a huge change in the wings, I think I'm going to walk everywhere.