Monday Morning Music Ministry

10-23-23

Two weeks in a row, a “life story” with a practical message and a spiritual meaning. This one obviously is personal, so I should get it right, despite being barely conscious during some of it.

Some of you know that I write more than a weekly blog. Other blogs; roughly one magazine article a month; newspaper columns and op-eds; and books. It was my seventy-fifth published book that took me to New York last week. I have been doing interviews, recently the Charlie Kirk and Rita Cosby national radio shows / podcasts. The semi-official Book Launch of The Most Interesting American, Post Hill Press, my third book on Theodore Roosevelt, was scheduled on the campus of Long Island University / C W Post College. Close to Sagamore Hill, the Oyster Bay home of TR.

In addition to LIU, the events – press conference, reception, book signing, speech, public Q&A – was to be covered by C-SPAN for broadcast on its Presidential Books series. The events were co-sponsored by Theodore’s Books, the terrific Oyster Bay shop run by former congressman Steve Israel. For all the resourceful people involved, the real angel was Bernadette Castro, one of the nation’s great natural resources – furniture heiress; onetime New York candidate for the US Senate; 12 years the New York State Parks Commissioner in charge of historic preservation; and an amazing role-model of civic virtue and activism.

In short: I woke up woozy the morning of the events (forgive the technical and medical terms), but I had not eaten much in several days except for a grand dinner the previous evening; I had flown a hurried trip the week before; deadlines plagued me… who knows. It could not have been “stress” about my speech, because I have always said that I could talk about Theodore Roosevelt in my sleep. Inadvertently, here was to be my chance.

At the event, I stumbled in late; I half-realized I was signing my name one and a half times, or just scribbling; I needed help getting to the dining room. It was all a strange sensation, but more so for those who beheld this, ahem, esteemed author. I am sure that the guests (many and distinguished) thought I was drunk or having a stroke. Bernadette assured them that I was quite sober, and if I were sentient I could have assured them… well, in fact, I was not sentient. Medics arrived; then an ambulance; and I blinked back to consciousness in the loving arms of St Francis (the wonderful hospital bearing his name in Port Washington, NY).

When the dust had settled, so to speak, the consensus was not demon rum (I scarcely drink) nor a stroke but a “simple” case of hypoglycemia. My blood-sugar level had dropped to 37. I am on two meds as a pre-diabetic (“pre”? I am never early for anything) and maybe the disruptions of the previous days put those meds into overdrive.

(I only had problems with hypoglycemia once before, but that was in a spelling bee in sixth grade. Seriously, my late wife had diabetes since age 13, so I should be aware of some of the collateral issues. I am more aware, again. I am dropping jokes here as often as nurses who wake you up to ask if you are asleep… but for the first time in my life I thought I was going to die.)

Several days in the hospital; canceled appointments to see old friends and hoped-for business partners; and, having been rushed from my events, no books or papers or laptop or even a phone-charger. But the word had gotten out, and almost 700 well-wishers reached out, between phone calls and texts and e-mails I eventually received. In my case, “well-wisher” usually means people who wish I would fall down a well; but this was very special, really touching.

Among all the outreach, my daughter Emily called from Ireland, once for 45 minutes. And my son Ted drove up from Washington DC, where he is a TV news producer, to “hang with Pop,” and drive me to the airport after a day in Manhattan, just like old times.

To the impatient reader who wonders where is the “practical message, the spiritual meaning,” it is here, thicker than a dose of glucose syrup. Jesus was real to me through this. Not only my faith and grounding, nor that I was in a Catholic hospital. He truly was present in myriad ways.

I had a friend who was a professional skeptic (a.k.a. wiseguy) who once challenged me after some troubles I had. He said, “You keep giving Jesus the credit for the help you got. That wasn’t Him… it was all your friends! Wake up!”

OK. Chapter 2: For all of our conversations about politics and TR, and common work on causes like fighting the attack on historic statues… my greatest bond with Bernadette Castro is when we share personal stories, frequently centering on faith. She showed her character again this week.

This week could have been National Anti-Cliché week, because many of those messages and e-mails were from people who left fervent prayers and shared encouraging verses… as we all are to do, sincerely; not throw off Hallmark-like “Feel Betters” in circumstances like these.

A new friend in Michigan had volunteered to drive me to and from the airport (of course not knowing these things would transpire), saving me parking fees for a week and – surely – a shaky solo drive home, otherwise. A blessing. A friend from another state, who had sent a “love offering” to help with expenses… could not have known how useful that card would be. A blessing.

The hospital staff… well, ‘nuff said. I had interaction with so many people those days who showed Jesus, it was a reinforcement about the Healer, our Ever-Present Help in times of trouble. The Holy Spirit, you see, is the means and the motivator when we share the Jesus who lives within us.

So, Chapter 3. To skeptics like my old friend who said it was not Jesus but merely nice friends who show themselves in such crises (and as he, sadly, must have learned by now) –

It is Jesus who “works” in these situations. The Savior often chooses to work through His people. What better way? – win-win for everyone who is touched. I was ministered to; friends yielded themselves to share Christ’s love; and – I pray – others who hear this Gospel message may be blessed.

Yes. Let’s “wake up!” indeed.

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Click: Where No One Stands Alone

6-28-21

Whoo, what a week. Surely it was not this way with every visitor or reader here, but it seems like everyone I know was coping with problems, challenges, and crises that are somewhere between bad and worse. Friends, myself, acquaintances.

I didn’t make a list, because I don’t have enough pencils, but… relationships; health; financial; a child in peril; employment; betrayal; bitter gossip; a neighbor child’s drowning accident; breakup of a family; addiction; clinical depression. Friends shared so many things with me, helpless but not hopeless; and I cried on a couple shoulders too.

Amazing. Maybe Satan is getting out of the lockdown too. I want to be careful not to wallow in self-pity, and, certainly, I despise “negative confession.” There were blessings this week, too – for all of us – and I, for one was refreshed and encouraged on the faculty of a (Zoom-virtual) Christian Writers Conference. Fantastic reports, the glow of fatherhood, about my son and daughter doing well in their callings.

We must always have clear eyes and remember the right priorities.

If there are times we don’t feel like praising God… let me state the truth, not if but when the times come when we don’t feel like praising God, THEN is when we must do it. Praising Him for, maybe, little and mundane things will lead us to remember greater blessings; and then we will humbly thank Him for the uncountable and unspeakable glories He has gifted us with; and – every time – we will soon enter into His courts with praise.

I have always thought that’s what that phrase means in the Bible – the “sacrifice of praise.” It does work. When you don’t feel like it, DO IT, and you will feel like it, very soon.

God’s arithmetic can be funny – naw; not funny, inscrutable. God’s ways are His own, and unknowable. And, frankly, having to seek the Everlasting Help in Times of Trouble; or trust Him when we cannot know what awaits us… keeps us on our knees, so to speak. Reaching out. Trusting. Exercising faith. Crying “Daddy!”

Here’s what I mean about His arithmetic. As I write this, called away from the closing session of the Writers Conference by the pinging-alarm on my cell phone, I learned there was a tornado warning in my town. I realized, then, I had been hearing unusual sirens. Subconsciously I must have thought that some oaf at town hall had flipped a wrong switch, but it was real. A friend a little south of me called and said there were car parts and a TV set strewn about his area; and a new warning (not watch) has been issued.

At such times we pray, “Keep me safe till the storm passes by,” literally and figuratively, right? And, as the challenges of my friends and me will pass – altogether, or slowly, or barely – it made we wonder how often do we thank God for the problems that never present themselves in the first place? Tornados that don’t touch down? Accidents that don’t happen? Relationships that don’t rupture? Hurts that don’t hurt? Hurtful gossip that is never spoken? Storms that pass by?

Well, it is next to impossible to thank God for things we don’t see in the first place.

… except when we praise Him for all things, seen and unseen; joy unspeakable, as we are promised, and full of glory.

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Click: Till the Storm Passes By

11-9-20

Yes, we need to be praying more than ever. And some of us have been, lately. We have been reminded that the best position from which to advance is from our knees.

We pray “believing,” as the Bible instructs. “The fervent prayer of the righteous avails much,” we are told. Yet if a billion of us – or merely two of us – pray for different results, can God grace us with the same answer? Or if two pray alike, will God’s response be the same for each?

We should pray for God’s Will to be done – His righteousness – and that our desires may then be pleasing to Him, and right for us, in return.

Sometimes, when we pray over an imminent event, God might say, You think the crisis is nigh, but wait; it is yet coming.

That is, we should trust in His timing. And realize that things can get even worse. And maybe we created our own crises!

Sometimes, in His wisdom, He sees that we only turn to Him in times of crisis. Shudder to think: would that persuade God to keep crises before us, so we turn to Him more? He desires our communion.

Sometimes God says I hear your prayers! But I will answer… in time.
We must learn to trust His timing, not our agendas. Maybe “no” is “not yet.”

“But God,” we cry, “Your enemies are loosed! Help us to fight them!”

Vengeance is Mine, saith the Lord. So are justice and righteousness. We are in His army; He is not our servant.

“God! You don’t understand! We are in the midst of a STORM!”

He understands. Better than we do. Must we endure more? Maybe. Storms are part of life; and God sends them, or allows them, sometimes. They clear the air; they wash away dead things; they rearrange things on earth. Sometimes He calms the storm. Sometimes He shows us shelter. All the time He is with us in the midst.

And behind the darkest storm clouds the sun shines. As bright as ever.

I would hasten to my place of refuge From the stormy wind and tempest. – Psalm 55:8

The Lord is slow to anger and great in power, And the Lord will by no means leave the guilty unpunished. The whirlwind and storm are His way, And clouds are the dust beneath His feet. – Nahum 1:3

Then the Lord rained on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone, and fire from the Lord out of heaven. – Genesis 19:24

When the whirlwind will pass, the wicked will be no more; the righteous have an everlasting foundation. – Proverbs 10:25

And remember, fellow believers and voters and warriors – not from the Bible, but good advice:

When Satan whispers to the warrior, “You cannot withstand the storm,” the warrior whispers back – “I AM the storm.”

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(For readers with hand-held devices, click (if clickable) or copy and paste: https://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=GrcvXUvyn44 )

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Click: Till the Storm Passes By

2-18-17

Many events, even minor ones, can inaugurate profound changes in our lives. How often do you play the mental game of What If? If you hadn’t joined that one group… If you hadn’t gone on that date where you met your eventual spouse? If you had decided against taking that job…?

When it comes to our faith life, each of us has a different story or stories.

All believers have a story, and sometimes many more than one, about our “walk” with the Lord. I ask these questions, and answer these questions, of myself, all the time. What were the wellsprings of my Christian faith?

Prayer? We prayed at home, every meal, when I was growing up.

“Explaining” Jesus? My mom would always answer the myriad of questions kids always ask, in the context of Jesus, His teachings, and what she thought He would say. If the theology was not always precise, she taught me to seek Him first in every way.

Teaching? I remember, at about age four, my Sunday School teacher, Mabel Schwartz. At Covenant Lutheran in Ridgewood, Queens, she communicated Jesus, also as Vacation Bible School leader, and she gave me my first Bible, with her name in it. I still have it and use it.

Hymn? My favorite Gospel song has always been “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” Also the first I remember hearing. In the same way, my favorite “church hymn” was always “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” Both still bring tears to my eyes, as much from the essential memories as the words.

Faithful Perseverance? I was conscious of moral commitment, a heartfelt pledge when it came home to me that my Godmother, Aunt Mildred, prayed for me, even through my skepticism and rebelliousness. God honors such prayers… or, rather, He answers such prayers. And He makes sure that we are conscious of the effective prayers of righteous people.

… and so on. I invite you to ask the same questions of yourself. If you are a fervent Christian, it will be good to remember the great cloud of witnesses who cheered your faith as it grew. Be grateful to those who cared, and maybe even sacrificed (including prayer and praise time) for you. Let your thoughts dwell on the people, the churches, the fellowships in your past – and think where you might be today if those encounters never happened.

Think back, too, and remember when you were a “new Christian,” and how often you prayed, how hungry you were for the Word of God, how exciting was faith in the Lord. Has time dulled those emotions? How long has it been?

And if you are reading this and are not a committed Christian, there are memories you can summon of someone – a friend, a tract, a sermon overheard on radio or TV – who shared the Good News of Jesus. Maybe you were curious for a moment; maybe you studied some, or read things afterward; maybe you still wonder what this Jesus thing is all about. Even those memories still live.

First encounters are never snippets of time that will die. They are all planted seeds, no matter when you first heard them, or from whom. Recently some seeds from Egyptian mummies’ tombs were planted, watered, and… have grown into plants. A mere interregnum of 4000 years.

Similarly, our memories can sprout. Our little lifetimes are nothing in comparison. How long has it been?

Let us all to cultivate the memories of when Jesus and His salvation were new stories to us. When our faith was fresh. When the Gospel message moved us in powerful ways.

And then, go forth and be your own Mabel Schwartzes and Aunt Mildreds. Plant this seeds!

Someone did that over your life, once upon a time.

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Click: How Long Has It Been?

6-10-19

It is hard to hear the voice of God when we are stressed.

This is something most of us know, especially in these days when stress is blamed – probably correctly – for myriad ills from emotional problems to actual physical afflictions. It is the epidemic of contemporary life in many societies.

My son-in-law Norman McCorkell recently delivered a sermon on this message. At moments of high stress, we can not only miss the wisdom of God, but the words of those around us, and even that “still, small voice” of our own convictions. Stress can be like the moon in a full eclipse, blotting out the sun.

There is a frequent reaction among the faithful who occasionally feel abandoned that God has grown distant. Well, He does not grow distant – we move; He doesn’t – but when stress somehow keeps us from hearing God, the problem is not God’s voice, and maybe not even our internal “ears”… but our eyes.

We can seek God, not only in prayer, but by reading His Word.

It is human nature (which we must try to fight) that we seek God less when things are going well. When challenges, problems, crises – stress – comes, then we despair. Do we blame God? We pray and seek Him in those times.

If that is true, then short of physical sickness, should we not think, or fear, that God might allow those things, even stress, to cross our path… if that is a trigger for us getting closer to Him? It should make us shiver.

My late wife Nancy used to say that the devil is not really after our minds. After all, through life we believe this and that, learn and forget things, follow old or new theories. But the devil is after our hearts. He hates us not because we have pulses, but according to the amount of Jesus that exists in our hearts.

Head-knowledge is nothing when compared to heart-belief.

When your heart is serene, you will find that frustration over “hearing” the voice of God, or of friends, or of your own feelings, is less demanding.

And. Less. Stressful.

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Click: Till the Storm Passes By

10-2-17

This month is the occasion for a grand remembrance. The last Sunday in October traditionally is observed by Protestants as Reformation Sunday, when, on All Saint’s Day, Father Martin Luther nailed 95 Theses – basically, theological complaints – to the castle church door in Wittenberg, Germany.

Extra special is the fact that his act was in the year 1517, so the 500th anniversary is now observed. Half a millennium, roughly 25 per cent of the age of Christ’s Church on this earth. Even unchurched people know the basics of the revolution that commenced with those hammered nails – Luther’s nails ironically recalling the nails that Christ endured as He offered Himself a living sacrifice for us.

I wonder how the church will observe the “anniversary” of the Reformation. I have noticed that package-tour groups are available to cities in Germany and places associated with Luther’s life. More than that, I don’t know. I made a pilgrimage of sorts to Augsburg, Germany, in 1983, the place and 500th anniversary of his birth. In the Augsburg Cathedral I had reasonable expectations of a grand worship service, and a stirring rendition of his great hymn “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.”

There was, however, a small service attended by mere dozens of worshipers, in a side chapel and a charming but very modest, ancient free-standing pump organ.

Martin Luther is honored only in the breach, as they say, in many of the lands where his spiritual revolution once seized the hearts of men. The reforms of the reform-ation are evanescent; or in dire need of revitalization. Brother Martin is, possibly, in 2017 more of a historical than a theological figure.

I have said that unchurched people know something of his life. That is, to be precise, only to the extent that anyone knows much or cares much about history these days. To paraphrase George Santayana, those who have not learned from history are already doomed. The young Luther, training to be a lawyer, decided after what he perceived to be a life-saving miracle to join the clergy, and became an Augustinian monk. God’s hand might have been in that choice, because there are clear philosophical and theological lines from Platonism to the early Church fathers to St Augustine to Luther.

As a faithful clergymen he made a pilgrimage to Rome, walking from Germany. At the Vatican he was repelled by corruption and open scandals. Even back in Germany, the Roman church was becoming an agency of money-hustling, famously among other acts selling “indulgences” that promised poverty-stricken givers that souls of dead relatives would be boosted closer to Heaven in proportion to their “donations.”

Other offenses Luther identified, such as non-Biblical cosmology, veneration of saints, and Mariology, also led to the 95 Theses. Local Catholic clergy, representatives of the Vatican, and the Pope himself were much displeased, especially as Luther’s critiques gained currency. Germany was a land of greater literacy and ecclesiastical freedom than other corners of Christendom. Rome, already making a practice of suppressing and executing other critics (Luther was not the first voice of protest) sanctioned Brother Martin; demanded that he recant his many writings (including, strangely, those that were quite orthodox); excommunicated him; and sought to imprison him.

Luther was certain that Rome intended to kill him for his ideas, as it had done with previous reformers like Jan Hus in Prague and John Wycliffe (posthumous excommunication of desecration of his remains) in England. But the rising spiritual sophistication of German princes coincided with their growing desire to be free of the Catholic Church’s political and military dominance.

Religion, culture, and politics coincided. So did another great factor: Literacy. The average German could read better, and with more depth, than other Europeans to whom words and ideas were anathema, as so decreed by Rome. Largely proscribed from reading their Bibles and having to sit through Latin church services, Christians outside the German states beheld Christianity as dear to their hearts but largely alien relative to their daily lives.

My Catholic friends will dispute my characterizations of the fervor of Catholics of the day, or of the spiritual hunger of Luther’s fellow Germans and Scandinavians, yet two counter-arguments stand: Luther’s foundation-stone, based on Ephesians 2: 8,9: “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God, Not of works, lest any man should boast,” which confronted the authority of the Pope and efficacy of indulgences and putative good deeds. And… the empirical evidence, the speed at which the Reformation spread through Europe. And the world.

A lightning lesson. We will visit some other aspects of the Reformation in coming weeks. When I refer to “literacy,” I mean more than Luther translating the Bible into German, and common believers having access to God’s Word. We must understand:

Suddenly, men and women could read the Bible themselves. And think for themselves. They could write, and publish, and exchange ideas. Literature, poetry, and philosophy flourished – contemporary works, and those of the past – and political ideas were exchanged. Luther became the patron saint of democracy and the Enlightenment (although he must be considered a Pre-Modern, just as his musical disciple J S Bach, two hundred years later, must be similarly regarded, theologically).

Not a Humanist, yet of the Age of Humanism; living during the Renaissance but not a typical Renaissance man, Martin Luther astonishingly bridged the worlds of total subservience to Word of God, and the absolute independence of the human spirit. The soul. By looking back, to the faith of Jesus Himself, he was able to portend the future.

Threatened in the Church’s kangaroo court in the city of Worms – knowing that torture, burning at the stake, and death awaited him – he nevertheless refused to recant any word he had written, any sermon he had delivered, any “thesis” in his list of complaints.

No.

“Here I stand,” he said. I can do no other.”

At that moment one of the great souls of Christianity, and one of the greatest figures in Western civilization, changed the course of history. Fortified by utter conviction, Luther was also secure in the fact that when when one stands by God, one never is truly alone.

Martin Luther challenged more than Rome – he challenged humankind. In the face of authority, in the face of injustice, he challenges us today.

How would we have responded? How do you respond today… because Authority and Oppression are ever present. No less threatening, even more dangerous.

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From the sublime to the ridiculous? Many readers might consider the knee-jerk reactions of football players during patriotic exercises, in relation to Luther. They kneel; he stood. Not an absurd contrast to discuss. We shall take it up.

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Protestantism has spread worldwide. More than one-fifth of South Korea, for instance, is Protestant. Here are the famous SoKo Christian singers “Golden Angels”: –

Click: Where No One Stands Alone