Monday Morning Music Ministry

2-21-22

I realize the invitation of this blog is to “start your week with a spiritual song in your heart.” And I further realize that it carries the implication of Uplift; a bright message to commence a positive week.

When we are inspired to be a latter-day Jeremiah – that is, reflecting on troubling signs in contemporary life, or addressing the many crises our culture faces – a realistic message is also a useful, even necessary, way to start our days and weeks, even if “dark.” We should not continuously be “Debbie Downers,” but neither should we be spiritual Pollyannas, thinking everything is rosy, or will be cheery when things soon straighten themselves out.

Jeremiah, as I said, was a prophet whose message was dark and threatening to those who needed to hear it: the whole nation that had gone morally wayward. Noah too. Moses too. Jonah too. In fact… Jesus, too, in many of His sermons.

The sweep of humankind’s history has been marked by the rebellion of individuals, for instance “those to whom much had been given” and much was expected; these notable figures, too often, squandered their gifts and blessings. No less frequently in the world’s history and Biblical accounts we learn of entire peoples – tribes, societies, nations – who strayed.

“Strayed” from what? Generally from the things that had made them great, or successful, or productive – Forgetting their foundational principles. Betraying their inheritance. Losing sight of what was unique to them. Falling out of love with the ideals they once cherished.

Ancient Rome comes to mind. And so does… contemporary America.

This critique is not novel – at least I hope most of you feel the same angst. Recent events brought these thoughts to me. No, not crime nor the drug epidemic nor the runaway economy nor the health scares nor “wars and rumors of war,” despite these news items screaming at us every day.

Sometimes a larger circumstance can be more indicative of our moral crises and spiritual challenges than are passing headlines and statistics. This clarity was apparent when I watched the recent Super Bowl. I don’t mean the game itself – well, yes, I do. Not the brutish contest with strange new rules and blown calls and gladiator-like ferocity, but the “game” behind the game. We now have the nation’s favorite sport (we can still include baseball under this umbrella) where drugs and politics play important roles, in the news and in careers of the players. Fans have come to know as much about salaries and pensions as they do about on-the-field stats.

Salaries spiral ever upward, and… that’s America, right? “Get what you can while you can.” But players increasingly receive contracts worth significant portions of a billion dollars. OK, “if the owners didn’t make it, they couldn’t pay it.” So the owners simply charge more for tickets (multiple thousands of bucks for a seat at the Super Bowl… when the fans in the stands probably watch the action on Jumbotron screens anyway) and charge more for commercial time. ($6-million per minute?) Advertisers pay so much by charging more and more for their products. All of which means the fan gets socked from every angle. Um, for guys playing football and baseball.

We think of Ancient Rome with its “bread and circuses.”

But more troubling to me was the halftime “entertainment,” this year entirely given over to hip hop and rap, which is listened to by only a sliver of the population. An array of performers rolled out their hits, and paid vague homage to Los Angeles, common home to some of the noise and to this year’s Super Bowl. Kendrick Lamar performed “Alright,” famous for its anti-police message… and by the way, that misspelling was his intention; I realize that many performers and song titles and the genre itself is one big typographical error. The one white star, Eminem, took a knee in evident homage to Kaepernick; and the one major female, Mary K Blige, strutted around the stage in the costume of L.A.’s many street-walkers.

An observer, attempting to understand the lyrics, made a list of words and phrases during the halftime show. The unofficial tally: The “N” word, 16 times. The “F-Bomb,” 13 times. The “M-F” phrase, four times. The “B” word (in these days of the Me Too movement), 24 times. Likewise there were obscene gyrations including groping and grabbing of breasts and crotches.

America’s favorite sport. Broadcast in early evening… partly so kids could enjoy the sport. (“Grandma, what’s an igger?”) Overpaid illiterates parading filth, the crowd noise cheering lustily, praised by NBC announcers, paid for by Pepsi. (And you, ultimately.)

Our culture, if such wildly endorsed events are barometers (and they are), is in a Stage Four level of decadence. Among many comparisons I could offer, and really none are necessary as proof, we have arrived at a point where parents are not supposed to have a say in children’s school curricula; where Bible passages are being censored as “hate speech”; but a spectacle like the Super Bowl halftime show is force-fed to 100-million viewers as appropriate.

We have entered a Pentecost of Calamity, and extrication by traditional families and Christian patriots seems daunting. Without God’s help… and a true grassroots revival… and a severe rejection of this Spirit of the Age…

Well… have a nice week.

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I was reminded of the great Gram Parsons song. Written in the late ‘60s by the late enigmatic musical pioneer, Sin City is widely assumed to be not about Las Vegas; not New Orleans; but (appropriately this week) Los Angeles. Or… America and the West as a whole.

Click: Sin City

4-19-21

Life goes on.

Easter is over; Memorial Day is next; Summer begins; will the lockdowns end? Oh, those politicians. Oh, those riots, Oh, those headlines. Best if I ignore TV news for awhile. Before we know it, school will start up again… or will it? I wonder if we’ll get more free checks by then?

It doesn’t always take “bread and circuses” to keep us distracted. Modern life, even without pandemic frenzy and political upheavals, presents a full agenda.

Life goes on; the sun rises, we tend to business, the sun sets, and we sleep till tomorrow. Things please us, and things alarm us… but there’s always tomorrow to worry, and, maybe, fix things. It has always been that way, right?

Just as it happened in the days of Noah, so it will be also [in the last days]: they were eating, they were drinking, they were marrying, they were being given in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed them all.

Jesus looked ahead to our times, and (in Matthew and, here, in Luke 17) spoke about complacency, sin, self-delusion, and people taking false comfort in the meme “life goes on.” Who did He think He was, the Son of God or someone, thinking He could prophesy? What gave Him the authority to warn people?

How much worse it will be for those who never really know the Truth – never heard it, or honestly never had it presented to them. But for Christians who came through Easter, who have known the Truth, who have “accepted” Jesus, how many go through the year in effect saying, “Jesus died… Whatever.” Or “He rose from the dead… Whatever.” Or “I’ll go to Heaven, no worries” … and then eat, drink, marry, give in marriage. Whatever.

The suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus gave humankind, in effect, a “Get Out Of Jail Free” card. That is so casual a view as to be near blasphemous, unless we realize how basically profound it is. As the saying goes, Salvation is free, but a great price was paid.

What Jesus said about the days of Noah, and our days, is that people putter about, doing this and that, when great things portend, if we would only see them. But we don’t.

Did Jesus die for your sins? Act like you know it, and thank Him!

Did Jesus rise from the dead? Act like it transforms your life too!

Did Jesus send the Holy Spirit? Act with guidance, wisdom, and power!

The Atonement was Jesus trading the punishment for your sins for the chance to live a life of love and service. The greatest deal in history, excuse my casual language again. It does not deserve a “Whatever” from those who have been redeemed.

If you do not act like your life has been transformed by Christ’s grace then, in fact… you have not been transformed.

One of the few things Jesus asked in a response was that we share the news of what He did. Can it be possible, then, to share without showing great enthusiasm? If you had a cure for cancer, and a friend or stranger had cancer, would you not share that? Even if it were “uncomfortable”? Even if they ridiculed you for trying to save their lives?

“Whatever”… and shrugging your shoulders cannot be your response.

We can have a thousand responses. But I suggest three:

1. Come (again?) to know the Truth – Jesus embodied the truth: “I am the way, the Truth, and the life.”

2. Repent of your “Whatevers.” In the St Matthew Passion is the prayer “Erbarme Dich” – Have pity, my God, for the sake of my tears!
Look here, how bitterly my heart and eyes weep before you.
Have pity, my God.

3. Share! “Go tell it!” Love others. Stay above the mundane. Rebuke the Whatevers. “Go into all the world…”

Life goes on. Act like it!

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Click: Have Pity on My Failings
J. S. Bach – “Erbarme Dich, Mein Gott”

6-12-17

A guest blog essay this week by my old friend Pastor Gary Adams of the Kelham Baptist Church in Oklahoma City. Gary and I went to high school together in Old Tappan NJ and shared, among other things, an admiration for William F Buckley. I could quote Bill, but Gary was able to add a dead-on impersonation and the distinctive pencil-tapping of the conservative hero.

Our most memorable adventure was the afternoon we got booted from Mr LaFemina’s Economics class. Our crime? Gary made a joke, and I laughed. The teacher was actually the funniest person in the entire school, so this must have been a bad day for him. Silver lining: we were banished to the History Department Office… where I cleverly (?) engaged its chairman, Mr Newman, in a discussion of our favorite scenes in Mozart’s Magic Flute.

We turned an embarrassment into a plus; climbed from the valley to a mountaintop that afternoon. Well, sort of. This is a segue to Gary’s guest column here, inspired, he suggests, by our Monday Ministry blog last week about life’s valleys. He wrote this for his church’s newsletter, Kelham Korner, and he packed a lot of Biblical history and Christian wisdom into an e-mail’s confines, better than I did.

In last week’s blog, titled “Are You Tired of Living in the Valley?” Rick mused on mountaintop experiences and mentioned a song by Dottie Rambo, “In the Valley He Restoreth My Soul.” The song notes, “Nothing grows high on a mountain, so He picked out a valley for me.”

I had never really considered that.

Some quick research revealed that in Colorado’s mountain communities “only three non-indigenous species (not native to the area) were found thriving above nine thousand feet,” the Piñon pine, Rocky Mountain juniper, and Green Ash. Food crops that grow at high altitude include leafy greens (lettuces, spinach, collards, turnip greens); root vegetables (carrots, beets, radishes, turnips, potatoes); peas; broccoli; cauliflower; Brussels sprouts; as well as various herbs. Some growers have had limited success with varieties of corn and pumpkins and Russian tomatoes (under cover). Food crops generally grow poorly on the mountaintop. Too little moisture, harsh conditions, and limited space to plant contribute to the difficulties of growing enough on which to survive when living on top of a mountain.

Mountaintop experiences draw our attention in the Bible: Noah and his family landing the ark on top of Ararat (Genesis 8); Abraham offering Isaac and receiving God’s promise of a Lamb (Genesis 22); Aaron and Hur holding up Moses’ arms (and staff) in the battle against Amalek (Exodus 17); Moses receiving the Ten Commandments (Exodus 32); David buying the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite (2 Samuel 24); Elijah and the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18); Peter and James and John with Jesus on the mount of transfiguration (Matthew 17). All draw us into visible signs of God’s presence.

Each mountaintop experience comes surrounded by valleys. The ark rested on Ararat after the greatest worldwide disaster in history in which all but eight people died. Abraham journeyed to Moriah knowing God had called him to sacrifice his only son. Moses’ experience against Amalek came after the people of Israel were on the verge of stoning Moses for having no water.

While Moses was on Mount Sinai receiving the Ten Commandments, the people of Israel were in the valley building and worshipping a golden calf, and three thousand Israelites died as a result. David bought the threshing floor to build an altar to God to stop the plague that came as a result of his foolish numbering of the people. Elijah’s confrontation with the priests of Baal on Mount Carmel came in the midst of widespread idolatry and suffering (a drought of three and a half years) and was followed by Elijah fleeing to the cave in the desert where he heard God’s still, small voice call him back to complete his service.

And Peter and James and John’s experience on the mount of transfiguration followed Jesus’ announcement of his coming betrayal and crucifixion, followed by rebuking Peter for acting in the place of Satan.

Then there was Mount Calvary.

Truly, that was a great mountaintop experience for us. We sometimes forget it was preceded by Jesus’ sweating “as it were great drops of blood” (Luke 22:44) in the garden of Gethsemane. We forget that on Mount Calvary our Savior paid the horrendous price of bearing our sin. Could Jesus have borne the sufferings of Calvary without the prayer of Gethsemane?

Just as few crops grow on the mountaintop, we cannot live on the mountaintop. Rambo’s song says, “The Lord knows I can’t live on a mountain, so He picked out a valley for me…. Then He tells me there’s strength in my sorrow and there’s victory in trials for me.”

While we might prefer the mountaintop, the conditions for growth lie in the valleys. If we were never tested, we would never know God’s strength. If we were never tried, we would never know God’s faithfulness. If we were never broken, we would never know God’s ability to remake us and mold us into His image.

Craig Curry’s song, Still, is a declaration of faith in the faithfulness of God affirming that we will still trust, we will still praise, even when we are broken and wounded and in the valley, because “we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. … to be conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom. 8:28-29).

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Click: Still

5-23-16

Back when I was a writer for Disney Comics, I was given a bible – not the Holy Bible, although it had the properties of life and death in its pages. Like “script bibles” or “story bibles” in filmmaking and TV series, it is a summary of characters, personalities, traits, and background data, to keep writers and artists on-target. The essence was plainly stated: “Stick as close to Barks and Gottfredson as you can.”

Many of us grew up with Disney comics, and the definitive creators, although they were anonymous at the time, were Carl Barks (“the Duck Man”) and Floyd Gottfredson, who drew all the Mickey adventures. What a dream: write and draw like Carl and Floyd (each of whom I was blessed to know), and get paid for it.

I had monthly conferences with my editors, and for a while things went swimmingly. I even bought a house from all the stories I wrote. But there was one major bump in the road that I remember, decades later.

Scrooge McDuck and his nephews often set out on adventures. Humor and suspense, mysteries and slapstick, conflicts and surprise endings – what fun to dream up those stories. Once I was excited to invent a premise that contained a “switch” on a famous historical legend. Just as the Spanish explorer Ponce de Leon sought the mythical Fountain of Youth, I wrote an outline with Scrooge, Donald, and the nephews coming across the Fountain of Age.

The story possibilities were great. Of course Unca Scrooge inadvertently would drink from it; his instant decrepitude would be more than dismaying; it would materially threaten their quest in that story – I think it was a race against his rival; the attempts to counter the guzzling could be funny; and so forth. I was surprised, for all the ink spilled over the centuries about the Fountain of Youth, that nobody ever utilized its opposite as a possible storyline.

One of my editors, in a meeting, rejected it out of hand. “A Fountain of Old? That’s nonsense; it can’t be possible.” No; other editors tended toward my point of view; there could indeed be minerals or properties that could speed the aging process. Maybe a local tribe of elderly looking people could warn Donald and company at the last minute.

But that one editor persisted. “It simply doesn’t make sense that there could be a fountain, or a lake somewhere, whose waters make you age rapidly.”

I remember the session. After a moment of silence, I looked around the room and said, “Wait a minute. We are dealing with ducks here – ducks that walk and talk and dress themselves. One of them is richest duck in the world, and we carefully make sure he has his top hat, spats, and cane, every story. Huey, Dewey, and Louie, each of whom speaks a third of a sentence. Talking ducks!!!” And we were stymied about a plot where a hidden lake’s water aged you quickly.

The larger absurdity – or maybe it was ultimate logic – was that a room full of grown men, indeed an entire industry, made careers out of creating a “universe” of talking ducks and mice. The logic rested in the fact that the American public (and the world’s population, deep down) likes fantasy.

I was struck at the time (by the way, the story did make print), and I still am impressed, by the fact that many of the world’s great stories and legends have to do with water. Of course water is elemental source of life, irrigation, navigation, and all manner of sustenance: no mystery. Considering the dramatic possibilities – but not to be over-dramatic – the great poets and artists and writers and dramatists did not enthuse over air in the same manner as water.

Yes, they breathed; and manned flight might have been more of a technical challenge awaiting these professions. But, for instance to my case, humankind could have ventured into the waters of the world to fish… and been satisfied. But rivers became roads beckoning elsewhere; seas and oceans were irresistible, if frightening, gateways to the unknown. And we are back to Fantasy’s role in humankind’s DNA. From the arts to commerce.

The first chapters of Genesis make seemingly disproportionate references to water and “the waters.” It was through a Flood that God first judged the human race. Water, throughout the Bible, is a “type” of the Holy Spirit over and over. Jesus turned water into wine… His FIRST miracle. When Christ’s side was pierced on the cross, it is reported that both blood and water flowed. Start searching for references to water in the Bible and you will be deluged, by the number of them, their variety, their significance.

Are any of them references to a Fountain of Youth?

In a way, yes. The fourth chapter of John records that Jesus encountered a Samaritan woman who was drawing water at Jacob’s Well. He asked her for a drink and she was surprised, since she was a despised foreigner. Nevertheless she was sarcastic when He said that she would thirst again from the world’s water but He offered water after which no one would thirst again.

She still scoffed, and then He identified her as an adulteress, and other facts that made her call Him a prophet. But He said of Himself that, more, He was the Christ, and His meaning became clear. As clear as pure water.

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”  The woman then said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.”

Augustine has explained that the woman was a “type” of the world, the coming Church, for whom Jesus came: gentiles, pilgrims, and strangers who needed the Living Water. “So the woman left her water jug and went into town and said to the people, ‘Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this indeed be the Christ?’”

Truly Jesus provides – and is – the Eternal Water of life. It occurs to me that we all, in a way, are drinking from a Fountain of Old without really intending to do so; and we scurry about, all our lives, looking for a Fountain of Youth – or some other elixir of life, happiness, or prosperity.

And we thirst again, and again. And again. What odd ducks we are.

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Click: There Is a Fountain

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