Monday Morning Music Ministry

6-1-26

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Among the many popular phrases that we regularly employ and whose origins are obscure, this one has a logical source.

Its earliest recorded use actually quoted a saying that had already been in use.

The Church Father St Jerome writing around 400AD, in the Patristic Era, referred to a popular proverb Noli equi dentes inspicere donati – basically, “when you receive the gift of a horse, do not insult the benefactor by critically examining the animal’s teeth.” (You would appear ungrateful by checking if it were “long in the tooth,” another latter-day proverb.)

As is often the case, the Bible has its own version, a relevant application of the aphorism. In Luke 14 a rich man prepares a sumptuous banquet for his friends, only to find that many of his guests declined to attend. Worse, the flimsiest of excuses were proffered by those who bothered to RSVP. As Jesus related this parable, the rich man sent out for strangers to be invited; and then, to fill out the table, the highways and byways were combed for the poor and destitute to share in the banquet.

As I related last week, Mickey and I recently returned from a postponed three-week honeymoon in Europe. Adhering to today’s theme, we visited drop-dead gorgeous and famous sites, but did not look a gift horse in the mouth at any time (although there are butcher shops specializing in horse meat, for humans, in France and Italy…)

Horse meat, no. But we did enjoy beef cheeks in Ireland; frog’s legs in France; pig cheeks in Germany, where it was also white-asparagus season; smoked salmon and caviar (for breakfast!) in Florence; and exotic dishes like deep-fried baby artichoke chips in Rome. We loved it all – not exactly American picnic food – discovering odd-sounding but tasty dishes like pajata (the ancient Roman dish with little sausages made of the naturally filled intestines of unweaned calves).

Don’t look gift cheeks or lizard legs or veal offal or fish eggs in their so-to-speak mouths.

But in the parable of Jesus, the rich man’s friends did exactly that. They did more than answer his generous invitations with rudeness. They cheated themselves. In the story they did not turn up their noses, or mouths, at the esoteric menu of a rich man; surely he offered the basic meats and vegetables and breads and wines too. No, they were too rude, or lazy, or self-centered, to return their host’s gracious invitation. As I said, they cheated themselves.

They bypassed more than filling their bellies: They flouted basic courtesies. They missed fellowship, great relationships, and possible long-term personal fulfillments.

The truths behind the parable are obvious. Christ is the Rich Man who has prepared a wonderful spiritual feast for us all. He happily welcomes everybody – even those people frequently shunned by the world; the outcasts, the forlorn, the hungry. All are invited to the Banquet of the King.

To me, a major focus is the group of invitees who would otherwise consider themselves “first in the line.” How often are people too “busy,” or preoccupied, or self-centered, to respect the Host, the Invitation, the amazing fruits of the Master’s Table? Answer: Too often. All of us frequently are deaf to the Lord’s appeals to us.

His banquet table is open to us (we are part of the “all”!) Are we too good to respond to God, His gifts, His love? How dare we ignore His spiritual and material blessings!

Whether exotic fare or simple bread and wine, our priority must be the One who invites us, not the specific menu items!

Dinner is served!

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Click: Welcome Table

5-25-26

Memorial Day is as close as America can come to a non-sectarian holy day. Veterans Day, for instance, is a large and proper “thank you” to military veterans; but Memorial Day has been set aside for honoring those who died in uniform. Protecting us; sacrificing; sustaining injuries; willingly enduring much for family, friends, even strangers back home; dying.

We honor them not so much for hating enemies but for loving their homeland.

By “honoring” we are asked much less than was asked of them. We should pause, pray (by tradition at 3 p.m. local times), and share lessons of history. The holiday was originally proposed by Gen. John Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic, an association of veterans after the Civil War; and was for some years called Decoration Day. Celebrants were asked to decorate graves of late servicemen as a basic token of respect. I remember mothers in Ridgewood, Queens, in New York City where I was born, decorating baby carriages with red, white, and blue bunting, and marching in parades. Such observances occurred in towns across America then; I wonder how many places host such memorial events today.

Through the years the “official” date for Memorial Day has changed. Sad, but somehow appropriate, as the society has changed. A “holy day” has become a holiday. It has been moved to a certain Monday instead of a fixed date, so, as with other adjustments to commemorations, used-car dealers and Walmarts can smother patriotic impulses with commercial overlays. Memorial Day now is confused with Veterans Day and perhaps the 4th of July, Presidents Day, and maybe even 4/20, the day celebrated by drug users.

God forbid – whoops, too late to employ that cliche – that people think soldiers sacrificed themselves to secure Americans’ freedom to smoke weed and take cocaine; or have the liberty to abort their babies and have the government pay for the murders; or save a country that eventually would chill the free exercise of religious worship and free speech, by calling Bible “hate speech” and impose transgenderism and sexual perversions on students; and so forth. Are these what the stars on our flag have come to represent?

America is not the only country that honors its war dead; other nations do in their own fashion. Germany, for instance, whence I recently returned, observes “Peoples’ Mourning Day” (Volkstrauertag) which is a sombre commemoration of all people around the world, military and civilian, who died in armed conflict or as a result of civil unrest and oppression. In this way it expands, so to speak, the flags of countries and honors the larger communities of martyrs.

This is eminently proper. In Lincoln’s words, “It is for us the living… to be dedicated to the unfinished work which they who fought have thus far so nobly advanced.” In other words, to me, what we can memorialize on this holiday transcends flags and borders. We honor that aspect of the human soul that consists of love, sacrifice, and dedication. We honor acts of bravery, which is an instinctive reaction to threats or danger.

Moreso do we honor courage – a far superior characteristic. Courage consists of a conscious commitment, intentionality, and a certain disregard of personal consequences. It is why military forces sometimes plan elaborate burials of hard enemies: recognizing that humans can achieve nobility by fighting, even dying, for a cause. A larger fraternity. In Americans’ case at one time the causes were just, and courage inspired acts of bravery.

Let us honor those principles, and honor those whose martyrdom ennobled them, as the rest of us mortals went about our business at home, and still do – by God’s grace and the courage of exceptional people.

I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more that they can do to us. – Luke 12:4

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Click: Traurermusik for our times?

5-18-26

I return to the blog-essay field here after a hiatus of three weeks. I hope that some readers have noted it, and I hope even more that some have missed our posts. I know that I did; after 15 years of weekly MMMMs this is the first “vacation” I have taken, yet I continually am in the mode of seeing themes and inspirations for comments and thoughts to share.

I call the three weeks a Hiatus, but actually it was more: it was a Honeymoon. I married again a year ago, but a book deadline and my wife Mickey’s son announcing his decision to marry himself (not literally) at the time we might have honeymooned, postponed our trip till this Spring. We Sprung to Europe – Ireland, Paris, Germany, and Italy – and were mightily blessed by God with safe travels, seeing old family members, meeting new friends, train travel, famous monuments, obscure sights, beautiful scenery, gorgeous weather, spontaneous side-trips, and great food. Not necessarily listed in order of visceral delights. But God saw to all the connections, which always are a dicey proposition for travellers.

So I quickly will share some impressions from our adventure. This was my 69th trip to Europe; and Mickey lived in Germany for three years, but every journey even to familiar places holds promises of changed environments and new situations. And great food.

We particularly were impressed by our visit to the restored Notre Dame cathedral in Paris (in view from the window of my favorite room of my favorite hotel, the small centuries-old Esmeralda). Mickey and I had been to Notre Dame before the horrific fire, and I had cried like a baby when I watched the 24/7 coverage on France 24 television. Its renovation and restoration has been masterful. Things people had gotten used to – dark images, gray statuary, dusky paintings – are once again alive with brilliant colors and clarity. Stunningly “new” again after almost a thousand years. Among the throng of tourists there were some people praying too, in reserved seats.

For us, as uplifting as this was, as Christians we were sorrowful that this grand cathedral was constructed to honor “Our Lady” and not Our Savior, and so with many other churches honoring saints who themselves honored Jesus – Who is rightfully the proper object of our faith.

In Germany I renewed a connection with an old college friend (55 years since our last face-to-face) who was ordained as a Lutheran minister and moved to Germany. He is hardly a rebel, yet he suffered rebuke from his denomination and dismissal by a congregation for the offense of being too traditional, too Biblical, in his beliefs and preaching.

He occasionally serves these days with Catholic brethren – ironic, in the land of Martin Luther, that the protest-ant church has become “woke” and deserving of reformation itself.

In Italy we noticed a rather familiar role reversal, that churches have the feel, and often the function, of being virtual museums; and in museums and art galleries there is almost a spiritual atmosphere. Not heretical in itself, but the sense of awe and wonder once reserved for “holy” places is now found among hushed pilgrims practically worshiping paintings and statues.

In many European countries, there has been a radical shift over a mere generation. Many people frankly admit that they go to church three times in their lives: to be baptized, married, and buried. Under governments where clergy are paid by the state, pastors become regarded by people in the way that doctors, therapists, and plumbers are.

Returning to America, in person and in this essay, we take no joy nor even temptation to proclaim a clearer spiritual condition, nor superior exercise of Christian faith, back home. In a country settled by varieties of pilgrims committed to Biblical principles and long informed by faith-based standards, we have strayed far. This is now a secular society and a culture of death.

The suppression of religious expression; persecution of churches and sermons threatened by “hate speech” accusations; the acceptance of homosexuality and transgenderism; the advocacy and promotion of abortion; the “educational” establishment exercising in loco parentis “rights” over families’ children; the ubiquity of drugs, abuse, abortion, failed marriages… the West has no right to claim any superior spiritual standing.

But we know that Satan is the prince of this world. We do not look to the past, as marvelous as cathedrals and statues and illuminated manuscripts are (and, they are!) but we must always look to the Celestial City, the life of the world to come.

That is a real journey we must all take.

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Click: God Of Our Fathers