The Interpreters

November 25, 2018 Leave a comment

A knock. Then two more. Peter opened his front door. There stood his neighbor Dimitri stomping the slush off of his Oxford shoes. Peter had invited his neighbor Dimitri over for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Come in”, Peter gestured. “Let me take your coat. Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.”

Dimitri eyes glanced around the room until he saw the bookcase. “Ah.” He walked over to the bookcase.

After a minute he muttered under his breath, “You might as well read coffee grounds, Peter.” Dimitri put the Bible back on the shelf and walked into the living room shaking his head.

“Is everything OK, Dimitri?” Peter queried.

“Ah, yes, ahem, yes. Have you read Voltaire’s Candide?…say, what is that wonderful smell?

“Roast carrots from our garden. Didn’t Candide say, “We must cultivate our garden.”?

“Ah. Ahem. Yes. My cultivated garden is right here.” Dimitri tapped his forehead with his index finger.

“Any head carrots ready to be pulled up?”

“Ah. You make fun. But I take my intellectual cultivation very seriously. Everyone must make rational and practical choices from a well-cultivated garden. You can’t rely on superstition and dubious dogmas.”

“Smell that. That’s the smell of the dubious dogma is in the air. Man cannot live by carrots alone. There is roast turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn and…”

“Ah. I discovered good food by the operation of my reason.”

“Was each mouth-watering experience an eye-opener?”

“It wasn’t a spiritual experience, if that’s what you are after. I tasted the food and found it to be reasonably good.”

“I see. You’ll get to operate your reason again when I cut into the turkey.”

“Is your mother-in-law joining us today?’ Dimitri asked.

“Yes. She is out on the patio smoking a cigar and reading Chekov.”

“Ah, Chekov, a doctor after my own heart. You said your mother-in-law is smoking a cigar?

“Yes. She likes Dominicans. She says it reminds her of her husband who passed away three years ago.”

“Ah, but smoking is bad for your health.”

“So is living with a woman who is miserable, my friend. Have a seat next to me.” Peter pointed to a chair at the dining room table.

Mary set the turkey in the center of the dining room table. The large bird was surrounded by hot dishes. Mouthwatering aromas spiraled upward. The kids were called from upstairs to “come and eat!” Mary knocked on the patio door and summoned Constance to the table.

When grandma entered the dining room, Todd, the family’s youngest exclaimed, “Grandma, whew! you smell like Grandpa!” Grandma smiled at Todd. “Grandpa liked his cigars. I miss grandpa.”

“And, I love my grandma!” Todd gave grandma a hug holding his nose.

When all were seated Peter gave the blessing over the food. Dimitri watched with arched brows and bared whited teeth as the family closed their eyes and bowed their heads. “Amen!”. Dimitri’s white brows recoiled.  Sounds of wine and water being poured. Clanking dishes being passed. Then the clash of forks and knives.

Peter set his napkin down on the table. He stood up with his wine glass.

“I want to toast another year of God’s blessings…

Everyone raised a glass. Dimitri lifted his glass just off the table.

“To the One Who holds all thing together and to my family – Mary, Todd, Charis, and my mother-in-law…

Constance looked up from her plate to see if Peter had winked at Mary. He hadn’t.

“…and to my neighbor Dimitri. Cheers!”

Dimitri bolted up. “I would like to make a toast, too.”

“To science and technology and reason that hold all things together and…to a well-cultivated garden. Cheers!”

Everyone gulped and then downed their drinks.

 

 

“I had a dream last night.” Peter passed the sweet potatoes to Dimitri. “I think it’s about being held back at my job. I want to do the project work the electrical engineers are doing.”

Dimitri put his forked carrots down, straightened up and arched his right eye brow. “Tell me about it.”

Peter proceeded to describe the dream:

“I entered a large mall-like area. It looked like my high school and the inside of a large mall at the same time. There were escalators and lots of people walking around in front of stores.

To my left I saw a stairway that went down to a lower level. I walked over to the stairs and went down.

The next moment I saw myself as a prisoner inside a prison. There were lockers like a locker room. And, prisoners walking around.

I looked up above me and saw a funnel-like duct work going up. I went up the ductwork thinking I was escaping.

The next moment there were guards catching escapees in the duct work. The escapees were forced to return. I was among them.

What do you think that means, Dimitri?”

“I think it means that you should have gotten your degrees like I did. Then you can show them you are like them – university educated. I have something to show for all of my time studying climate. If you had a degree then you would have status like I enjoy at the university. I am well regarded and have full tenure.”

Peter responded. “I can do the work. The thing is…I’ve been interested in so many things I could never settle on one course of study. I teach myself what I am interested in and in what I need to know. The way I figure it, if I can understand electrical theory and physics and economics and can paint and write stories, then all the better. When they said I couldn’t be given those projects I felt I was being pulled back down to my ‘place’.

“Ah. If you are looking for a way to be at their level. You need a degree to show that you have a background of knowledge equal to the status you’ll receive. One must become knowledgeable and proficient in one area and then… and then you can apply your well-cultivated mind to all areas of your life. They call me doctor at the university and for good reason. I am looked up to as someone who has achieved superior knowledge above theirs in a certain area. They respect my well-cultivated mind and seek my opinions in all areas of life.”

Dimitri went on.

“They know me as a man of science.  I see things as they are – objects, data – and not as I wish them to be. I write papers and they are peer reviewed and well-accepted. I am published in the Journal of Climate Consensus.”

The dinner progressed. Second helpings were passed

“I was sorry to hear about your father’s death this summer.” Peter looked over at Dimitri. Charis, Peter’s daughter, came and put her arms around her father’s shoulders.

“Ah. That. Yes. He took his own life by…”

“Little ears, Dimitri, little ears.”

“Ah, yes. I see…. My father decided that there was no reason to live after mom died. Sad business. I was never an optimist or a sentimentalist so I knew it was inevitable. He said he drank to deal with the loss. His drinking and thinking of her drove him to the loss of himself.” Dimitris gulped down his glass of wine.

Charis came over and rubbed Dimitri’s shoulder.

“May I offer you some more wine, Dimitri? Constance held the bottle of wine in the air. Dimitri accepted.

“So, you have never married, Dimitri?” Constance asked as she poured the wine.

“I don’t think any woman could live with me. My standards are very high.”

Looking back into the kitchen, Mary wondered if this man of letters would put two and two together and offer to wash dishes later.

“Constance, you read Chekov? And, you smoke cigars?” Dimitri looked over at Constance.

“Yes.”

“I find it surprising that a woman…”

“That a woman likes Chekov?”

“No, I mean…”

“That I read Chekov outside on the cold patio?”

“No, I mean…”

“That I like Dominicans?”

“Ah. Yes. Cigars?”

“My husband would read Chekov and smoke cigars. Memories, really. Both are a revelation about his life.”

Holding up a carrot with his fork, Dimitri looked over at Constance. “It was Chekov who said to his wife, ‘You ask what is life? This is the same as asking: What is a carrot? A carrot is a carrot and nothing more is known about it.’ Dispassionate and clinical observance is what I require for my life.” Dmitri ate the carrot.

Constance whispered to Mary, “I see the carrot served its purpose well.”

Dimitri wiped his white goatee with his napkin. “Mary, for all practical purposes, that meal was a gastronomic revelation!” Dried mashed potato flecks fell from his beard as he spoke.

Mary thanked Dimitri and offered him some pumpkin pie. Through an extended yawn, Dimitri said “Yes” to pie and coffee. After dessert, Dimitri fell back in his chair, yawned like a lion and looked at his watch.

“I must be going. Tomorrow is a long day for me. Computer models to program. Algorithms. Tomorrow night I am attending a cocktail party with my colleagues after an award ceremony.”

Mary handed Dimitri a bag with the dinner’s leftovers. Peter helped Dimitri on with his coat.

Peter opened the door. “It would have been unreasonable of me to let you spend Thanksgiving alone.”

Dimitri stepped across the threshold and paused.

“Ah. Damn! It is snowing again! Not the best of all possible days.”

As Dimitri headed down the sidewalk Peter warned, “Be careful my friend. There’s a layer of ice under that snow!”

 

 

 

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, All Rights Reserved

 

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Tis the Season to Be Partisan

November 4, 2018 Leave a comment

 

Despite the fact that Macy’s has their enormous Christmas tree lit up right now, signifying the coming season of glad tidings and of peace and of unbridled consumerism, the TV reminds us that it is knock-down-drag-out Partisan Season as candidates throw punches at their labeled-as-a-Grinch opponents. Democracy gives one the impression that with your vote, and with other’s who vote like you, that you can create a government in your image. Therein lies the boxing match. Campaign ads require a different metaphor.

As witnessed firsthand, the almost endless torrent of unbridled derogatory and prejudiced campaign ads spews like raw sewage from the digital spout. Based on the ads, hatred for the opposing candidate appears to be the biggest lure to pull voting fish out of the drainage.

I’ve come across those on Twitter who will vote for a Democrat because the other candidate is a Republican and therefore, based on the media narrative, is a tainted Trumpist. The Twitterer’s animosity towards Trump is stoked by a fight manager – the Leftist media. The combined one-two punch of hate and vote is meant to KO anyone on the Right.

“I do not know if the people of the United States would vote for superior men if they ran for office, but there can be no doubt that such men do not run.”
― Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America

Neediness for government to make their lives better (basically, government taking responsibility for their lives) feeds many folk’s compulsion to vote for the unctuous Democrat who is often Trumpian unctuous but vies for the anti-Trump vote amongst the media-fed lions as the “right thing to do” pol. Their candidate freely offers healthcare and untethered no-cost sanctimony regarding giving illegal aliens a pass on our laws. A free lunch is offered to all at no cost to the candidate.

One such candidate is a local Democrat. She is running against an incumbent Republican for a U.S. representative seat. She is an Africa-American female so she is definitely an unTrump figure. But like Trump her presence is ubiquitous. Her yard signs are everywhere. Her campaign volunteers wave her sign as they stand along the bridge I cross on my way home from work.

She is a healthcare candidate. This means she wants to give everyone government run healthcare. But like Obama’s ACA con game and Ocasio-Cortez’s socialism con game in New York, she has not provided the details of how to pay for the enormous bureaucracy to run your life and your healthcare. She does not talk about unintended consequences such as the lack of competition in the medical industry creating higher costs or the loss of incentive for doctors to practice because they become wards of the state or for the lack of desire for new doctors to enter the medical field. The consumer loses out when government chooses your options for you. Unlike the toothy candidate with the hope and change grin, government is impersonal. It is not altruistic.bureaucrat

Her campaign, her partisanship, is that she is not like the cold-hearted other guy who is hands-off in his approach to government and our lives. Her campaign, her partisanship, is that she wants your vote for government to be the cold-hearted hands-on entity to care for you.

 

 

So, in the spirit of the Season of Partisanship, I offer my own partisan views.

I am a conservative libertarian. That combination may sound like two terms which negate each other but I assure you it doesn’t. As a follower of the Way who walks on resurrection ground, I seek heaven on earth just as Jesus taught us to pray. That kingdom of God venture is not something I want to impose on my fellow citizens. Rather, I want them to have freedom to do as they please within the law and to receive the reward of their behavior. This, in essence, means that I do not want government to be a lifestyle safety net nor the means to bail you out if you decide to live your life with drugs or in sexual encounters or as parachute jumper. I want gravity and not government to be the force in our lives.

I am conservative with regard to social issues. And, again, I do not want to impose my kingdom view on others. I can impose that on myself and be the salt and light that the rest of the world will need when trouble comes knocking.

I am a small government fiscal conservative. Government has no business running my life or healthcare or bailing me or any industry or bank out. Taxpayer money could instead be used by the taxpayer to help his own neighbors and to pay for their medical care. The thinking that government has deep pockets if everyone was made to pay in denies the reality of escalating costs based on that assumption and the monopoly of government control you’ve created when vote that assumption.

“The American Republic will endure until the day Congress discovers that it can bribe the public with the public’s money.”
― Alexis de Tocqueville

 

Our government, as I define it, is a secular entity that provides protection from enemies foreign and domestic (including illegal aliens), provides transportation infrastructure and which enforces the Constitution and the laws of the land. Government is also to enforce contracts. The government is not to be a church dispensing Good Sarmatianism.

 The Constitution is the cornerstone of our republic. It aligns the foundation our nation is built on it. It should not be chiseled away by “living Constitution” jurists who put their finger in the wind for their opinions and judgments.

Having said all this, I want to further post my partisanship: I am by no means a Progressive. And you should know that there is no such thing as a Progressive Christian. Progressivism is a belief, not in God and His well-documented narrative, but in an ideology which requires that God’s well-documented narrative be changed for the Progressive to live his narrative. Progressivism negates Christianity.

I am follower of Jesus first and foremost. I vote libertarian-conservative. This means that I want to preserve what is good. I seek a small boring government and allowance for people’s freedom to do as they please within the law. I want people to take responsibility for the outcome of their choices. I also do not want to be forced to have to affirm their choices (the Progressive definition of “rights”).

I voted early. And, I did not vote for the statist or for her healthcare unicorn or for her “do the right thing” campaign. I have never voted for a Democrat. The fact that Democrats promote abortion is beyond the pale and is ironic for a party platform that promotes itself as “for the people” and wants you to “do the right thing” with your vote. Isn’t it telling that a Democrat woman can presuppose and visualize a problem for her future existence if she has a child and so aborts the child. But the same woman can’t presuppose and visualize her unborn child as a human.

Identity politics, created by Democrats, pits male against female and humans against those who choose to dehumanize themselves. There is also class warfare fueled by Democrats Obama, Sanders, Warren and Ocasio-Cortez. But Democrats want you to perceive something else. Democrat candidates would love to have you think they are the saviors from hate and discord (they have stoked) if you just give them control.

Democrats promise all kinds of bennies at the expense of others. So, let it be known that there is a major cost to the U.S. and to its people when illegal aliens enter the country with values that are not shared with Americans. Remember these aliens left countries they trashed with their values and votes. Many are victims of their votes.

 

In the spirit of the Season of Partisanship I leave you with a well-informed conservative economist – Thomas Sowell – and his three very important questions:

 

Tis the season to Be a Responsible Voter.

~~~

Filed under 2018 Current Events, Christianity, Political Commentary, Politics, Short Story Tagged with , , , , , , , ,

You Keep the Stub

May 28, 2018 Leave a comment

 

You Keep the Stub

a short story

The Anderson family decided to go to a movie after an early supper. Dad, mom, Katie and Kevin got into the family’s van and headed over to the Markhem multiplex on the other side of Markhem River. They hoped that a 6:30 showing they wanted to attend wouldn’t be too crowded. To their surprise, the parking lot was empty except for one car. They were even more surprised to be the only ones standing in line for tickets. They knew from the promos that the movie was “box-office smash hit”. Dad told mom that it was probably just a quirk that no one was there at that time.

At the concession counter each asked for a tub of popcorn, a soda and some candy.  The guy from the ticket booth was now behind the counter. Now Dad noticed that the guy’s arms were covered in black thorny vine tattoos. The jagged vines went up under his short sleeves and then appeared again on his neck and into his hairline.

“Wow, for such a big place I don’t see many employees.” Dad spoke trying not to stare at the guy’s arms.

The guy answered, “Many of my friends left to work somewhere else. Something about feeling claustrophobic.”

“I’m glad you’re here!” dad pointed at the concession guy and then opened his hand. “But where are all the customers?”

“You don’t see them?!”

Katie looked around and scrunched her nose. “Daaaad?”

“Don’t worry, Katie, he’s just joking. We’re in a movie theater. We’re here to be entertained.

When the concession guy heard that he broke a half smile. He then directed the family over to the velvet rope cordon. The Andersons followed.

“We meet again!” dad joked.

The concession guy now turned usher tore off the tickets and handed them the stubs. He told them to keep their stubs. He pointed them to theater 2 where the movie, A Future Worth Fighting For, was playing.

 

The movie was the topic of discussion the night before. As the Andersons sat around the dinner table, a promotional commercial came on TV. Kevin pointed to the screen. Katie left her chair, headed over by the TV and told her parents, “That’s the movie everyone in my class has seen. I have to see it.”

Dad and mom learned from the promo that the movie was another in the Clash of Eco-SuperBeings series. Kevin and Katie filled in the movie details after dad had them turn off the TV and come back to the dinner table.

Katie began by telling mom and dad about the main characters, Vinica Tru and Wither.

“They’re Eco-SuperBeings. Vinica Tru has the power to create beautiful gardens and forests with lots of color. She directs light to make things grow. Wither also uses her power to control the environment, but in a bad way. Wither hates color. Wither wants to control light. Whiter wants to control how people see things. The web site says she’s an anti-chromatic fiend, whatever that means.”

Kevin jumped in.

“I think anti-chromatic means that Wither absorbs light and won’t reflect it back. She wears all black and a black hood. Black absorbs light and becomes heat. I learned that in physics class.”

Now dad jumped in.

“That’s my boy! Go on Kevin.”

Kevin told his parents about the super powers of Vinica Tru and Wither.

“Vinica Tru has two green thumbs. She uses the power in her thumbs to cause things to grow, like fields of flowers and prairie grasses and crops. She has the power to create over a thousand shades of green. She can shoot emerald rainbows into the sky out from between her thumbs! The rainbow falls to earth and things grow!

When Vinica Tru and Wither are not fighting, they said Vinica Tru is a watercolorist. Bill’s mom told me that Vinica Tru is an artist who paints with watercolors.

Wither is the opposite of Vinica Tru. Wither has the power to suck color out of anything. After she sucks in color she can spray a hot black fog out of her mouth. She says that the world must be colorless, that nothing should have color. Nothing should stand out. It should all be black.

Wither can also cast weeds and thorns out from her black thumbs. She destroys beautiful things like flowers and sunsets and …”

Katie interrupted.

“Wither hates rainbows. A rainbow in the sky means that beautiful things can grow. Wither will spray her black fog at rainbows in the sky to stop things from growing. But Wither is OK with rainbows that are not in the sky or are like the ones I see in puddles. Wither is OK with rainbows that don’t make things grow. I don’t have to take biology to know all that. Katie stuck her tongue out at Kevin.

Mom jumped in.

“That’s my girl? Go on Katie.”

“Like I said. If Wither sees a sky rainbow she sucks in their colors and sprays out a black rainbow to replace it.”

Now Kevin spoke.

“Wither wants to control the environment. She calls herself an environmental activist.”

 

The movie was everything Kevin and Katie had said. And more. Dad and mom weren’t used to the earsplitting sound effects. Dad wondered why the only lights in the otherwise dark theater, the red “Exit” lights, would flash whenever Wither appeared on the screen. Mom wondered why Katie was fidgeting so much. Both mom and dad noticed that whenever Vinica Tru used her green thumbs the theater became cool and energized, like a breath of fresh air. And whenever Wither breathed out the black fog, the air in the room became stuffy, stale and suffocating, like they had been placed inside a tomb.

 

After about an hour into the movie, Katie could not sit still. Mom asked her if she had to go to the bathroom. Katie said no but then changed her mind ten minutes later. What felt like prickly heat on Katie’s arms had become unbearable. Both her arms now felt like they were sunburned. How could that be? She hadn’t been out in the sun much at all.

“Mom! I’m going to the bathroom.” Katie whispered as she headed for the aisle.

“OK, honey. Come right back.”

In the bathroom Katie looked in the mirror. Both of her arms were lobster red and they burned.

“Whaaa?! What is going on?!

Katie returned to her seat and quickly forgot about her arms. The movie had more effect on her.

 

When the movie ended they walked out of the movie theater into the main hallway. Dad and mom couldn’t account for why all four of them had the chills and why they all felt so exhausted. Mom said, “I hope there wasn’t something in the air.” The thought of that had them head straight for the parking lot. On their way out, they noticed that the theater hallways were empty again. Outside they looked at each other and saw what looked like sunburn on each of their arms. Dad said, Wow! That VirtualMax gets under your skin!” Mom didn’t smile.

Once in the car they headed home without talking. Their minds were in a fog. The hot glow on their arms was all that concerned them.

The next morning Katie was the first out of bed. She headed to the bathroom and turned on the light. She looked at her arms. What she saw made her jaw drop. Her arms were covered with jagged black vines!

“Mom! Daaaad!” Katie cried.

Mom and dad rushed into the bathroom. When they saw Katie they both jumped back. Then, they looked at their own arms and saw the same black jagged vines. Looking in the mirror, the vines appeared to be growing up into their hair.

After several minutes in front of a mirror where he was trying to rub off the black, dad tried to make light of what he couldn’t understand. He said, “Wow! That VirtualMax gets under your skin!” But nobody smiled.

Dad, ever the optimist, was now dealing with a situation of seeming Biblical proportions beyond his control. He began looking for a positive outcome.

“Remember last night? They showed the promo of the sequel, The Abiding Battle where Vinica Tru battles Wither to restore color once and for all? The promo said, ‘In the final showdown, Vinica Tru uncovers the source of Wither’s colorlessness. Wither was once green but will never be green again.”

Dad rubbed his arm again. This time with a rag soaked with rubbing alcohol.

“This is not coming off. I guess we’re going to have to wait for the sequel. I’ll buy the tickets as soon as they come on sale next year.

Mom, looking at her horrified self in the mirror said, “I’m not waiting! I am going to start a garden!”

The next morning the Anderson family began their garden. After digging up and turning the black soil they tossed their ticket stubs into a hole and buried them. What the Anderson’s later learned was that certain ticket stubs have a way of growing into thorn bushes. But, to their great relief, as those thorn bushes grew, the black jagged vines on their arms began to fade away. But the black jagged vines left their mark, as if a tattoo had been removed.

Seeing no further improvement in the coloring of their arms, Dad decided it was time to cut down the thorn bushes and dig up the thorn bush stubs and be done with them. As he did he placed the prickly branches and the jagged stubs in a pile. He then doused them with gasoline and stood back. The burning heap crackled and hissed and gave off Sulphur fumes. A gathering column of blackness billowed from the screeching blaze, its only course toward the blue sky to meet its eco-fate – Vinica Tru.

 

 

 

 

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2018, All Rights Reserved

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The Search ‘Engine’ Above the Cloud

January 28, 2018 Leave a comment

 

“So if you were raised to life with the king, search for the things that are above, where the king is seated at God’s right hand.” The Apostle Paul, Colossians 3: 1-2 

 

 

Studying Paul’s letter to the Colossian church this past week, I came across the above verse. It is one which is well-known to me. I’ve read it many times. Looking at it very casually over the years, the verse seemed to hold a nice greeting card thought, one that seemed more sentiment than prescription. But this time, words stood out. First, I wondered: what does Paul mean by “search for things above”?

Paul wrote this letter in prison. His limbs were likely aching from the dampness. His eyes, possible bleary with cataracts, saw dark figures of vermin looking for morsels of bread he may have dropped. The torch in the cavern flickered dark images onto the wall in front of his cell. Looking above his circumstances, Paul warns the Colossian church, with words preceding the above instruction, of placing faith in the temporal:

“If you died with the king, coming out from the rule of the “worldly elements,” what’s the point of laying down laws as though your life was still merely worldly? “Don’t handle! Don’t taste! Don’t touch!” Rules like that all have to do with things that disappear as you use them.”

Paul goes on to point out the pretense of these man-made rules: “They may give the appearance of wisdom since they promote a do-it-yourself religion.” Instead of a religion of here-today-gone-tomorrow works, Paul was pushing these Christians to live in the resurrection life they had received. Good works would flow out from them. And he knew that no DIY secular religion would honor King Jesus. So, in order to help them come out from “the rule of ‘worldly elements’”, Paul placed them under the rule of King Jesus.  Paul wrote, “So if you were raised to life with the king, search for the things that are above…”

Two things popped out at me reading the above verse. I mentioned the first. The second:  Paul writing “…where the king is seated at God’s right hand.” Immediately I remembered where I had heard something similar before.

“Look!” Stephen said. “I can see heaven opened, and the son of man standing at God’s right hand!”

These words are found in Acts chapter 7. There we find Stephen forced to address the Assembly of religious leaders. He provides the audience with a marvelous summary of Israel’s history. Stephen ends his discourse with some piercing words and the words above. The crowd would never forget those words, even though they covered their ears and yelled at him at the tops of the voices. So unsettled and angry was the crowd that they took Stephen out and stoned him to death. This was all done before a witness, a young man named Saul.

Who do you think Saul/Paul had in mind when he wrote, “…where the king is seated at God’s right hand.”? We don’t know for sure if Paul was in the Assembly that day Stephen spoke. Even if he wasn’t he would have been very aware of what was said. Paul was the Assembly’s appointed Inquisitor. He was ordered to stop the insurgents called “Followers of the Way”.

Paul, the witness and persecutor, was now Paul the prisoner and fellow sufferer in Christ with martyred Stephen. His relationship with King Jesus had taken him to new personal lows. But, Paul searched for things above and found them. They sufficed. Paul saw King Jesus sitting at God’s right hand.

 

What about our search?

Have you watched the TV series The Curse of Oak Island? Over the many episodes I’ve watched, the Lagina brothers search for buried treasure. In their search they have looked at maps. They have been to the library and to France. They have sifted dirt and information. They found both material fragments related to the historical period of the treasure and fragments of information also related. They have talked to many people who have knowledge of the island and the treasure. And, they dug and dug and dug. They are relentless in their pursuit of the treasure. They have a hope in what they do not yet see but visualize. What they do see are milestones that point in the direction of the fulfillment of their hope.

Have we stopped searching “for things above”? Have we stopped digging deep into the Word? Have we thrown away fragments of our character that would have pointed us to hope realized?

Does our search involve Scripture reading, studying Greek and Hebrew and history, praying and visualizing? Does our search involve hours and days and months and years looking for the pearl of great price? If you are looking at yourself and people’s reactions to you online then you will not find the treasure. Looking at the “worldly elements” won’t reveal it. Searching is lifetime, long-haul hard work. That is the Indian Jones adventure and romance of life. Except, we chose fantasy and the illusory.

In TV commercials one can see someone talking into an impersonal box. The ‘intelligent personal assistant’ box is connected to a search engine which is tied into a data cloud which is linked into a data storage island somewhere. But “the box” does not have the answer to life’s most pressing questions. As an engineer, I hold no grudge against technology. I just know that technology will not “search for things above.” You are responsible for that.

Many will use a search engine like Google to find information related to a certain topic. Now, consider searching “for things above” for answers to all of life’s “topics”. These ‘topics’ would include “Why is there pain and suffering?”; “How do I go on?”; “Who should I marry?”; “What about my wayward son? “How will I afford this surgery?”; What hope do I have when I can’t see things getting better?”; “What is my raison d’être?”; “What is God’s will and how will it be done on earth as in heaven?” Back to Paul and his words to the Roman churches about searching questions and seeing results.

“We were saved, you see, in hope. But hope isn’t hope if you can see it! Who hopes for what they can see? But if we hope for what we don’t see, we wait eagerly — but also patiently.” Romans 8:24-25

So, hope means waiting for what we do not yet see. But, are you uneasy when you can’t visualize the person you are talking to? Then learn to see Jesus sitting at the right hand of the father, with all authority in heaven and earth. Still struggling with searching “for things above”?

“In the same way, too, the spirit comes alongside and helps us in our weakness. We don’t know what to pray for as we ought to, but that same spirit pleads on our behalf, with groanings too deep for words. And the Searcher of Hearts knows what the spirit is thinking, because the spirt pleads for God’s people according to God’s will.” Romans 8:26-27

In prison and on the road, Paul tapped into resurrection life – into “the things that are above, where the king is seated at God’s right hand.” Paul was well aware that earthly and evil forces would love for us to remain in our petty, self-serving and secularly pious ways, embracing “worldly elements.” The Evil One wants us to focus only on ourselves and our material concerns. The Evil One does not want us to look above. Remember Satan’s temptation of Jesus in the desert. The Evil One wanted Jesus to acknowledge him, in effect, as the top Search Engine of the World. A ‘search engine’ that offered the world to his web-surfing devotees.

“Then the devil took him off again, this time to a very high mountain. There he showed Jesus all the magnificent kingdoms of the world.

“I’ll give the whole lot to you” he said, “If you will fall down and worship me.”

“Get out of here, you satan!” replied Jesus. “The Bible says, ‘Worship the Lord your God and, serve him alone!”

The Searcher of Hearts – the only Authoritative ‘search engine’-sits at God’s right hand. We are told to “search for the things that are above”, where our king “is seated at God’s right hand”. What are you waiting for? There’s a seat waiting for you.

 “This will be my gift to the one who conquers: I will sit them beside me on my throne, just as I conquered and sat with my father on his throne.” Revelation 3:21

Filed under Short Story Tagged with , ,

If You Call Now

January 22, 2018 Leave a comment

 

Mack had no one to blame. He blamed himself. His dream, well, just listen…

The other night Mack dreamed of being in New York. He didn’t know how he got there. He did remember driving around the Great Lakes. In New York Mack stopped along a highway in town, got out of his rental car and started to look for a store which sells maps. He returned and found that his car was gone. Mack became distressed.

Then Mack saw his car return but it was not working. The battery was missing. Someone stole it. Then Mack’s brother showed up because Mack’s mother was concerned – about both of them.

Mack asked his brother, “Is there a place where I can get a big breakfast?” Mack was hungry. His brother did not know where to get food or a map. His brother stood there. He looked like he wanted to help, but he didn’t offer any.

Then, both Mack and his brother were in a garage where things are fixed, batteries replaced. Mack received his car back working. He is hungry. The dream ends in New York on a highway in town with an able car and not knowing where to go next.

 

When Mack, whose given name is Macauley Andrew Naughton, applied at Central Commercial Chillers he was told that the job required 15 percent travel. But after his hiring, the on-the-road service schedule grew to near 80 percent at times. The fact that Mack had devised such good software to run the chillers within less than one degree of set point now meant that he had to go to the field and install it into every chiller sold by Central Commercial Chillers. After downloading the software, he had to commission the chiller and make sure it did what was promised. So, Mack spent a lot of time on runways, in rental car lots and in hotel rooms. The desk job had become a suitcase job.

Last week Mack was in Kansas. This week Mack was in New England servicing chillers. Tonight, he ended up at a motel in Connecticut. Tomorrow he would service a chiller nearby.

Mack entered the motel room and switched on the TV. He liked the ‘company’. It was all he had.  His ex-wife also sent him packing, something to do with pornography. Being alone was nothing new for Mack. And, loneliness came with the service guy turf, Mack figured. Fill the void with work, food and TV and hit “Restart” every morning.

After a shower and a quick burger at Friendly’s Ice Cream Mack came back to his room and settled into bed with the remote. Flipping through the channels he came a cross a show he liked. The show soon went to commercial.

“…If you call now, you’ll receive one free WonderPan with every order. Only pay for shipping and handling… A surface that cannot be scratched or matched…Someone is standing by now to take your call. Call now.”

The program returned after two minutes of commercials. But by now Mack’s eyes were heavy. He fixed a pillow under his head and watched the TV through squinting eyes.

Another commercial break came. There was a commercial for a sex chat line. Call them, it said, and they will make you feel “spontaneous”. Mack thought about sex on the phone. It seemed to fit his isolated lifestyle. And, sex seemed to be going on everywhere but not with him. His phone sex ears were wide awake but his eyes were almost sleep. The voice in his head told him don’t deny yourself. “But, Tanya, I’m tired,” Mack said and fell asleep.

“…If you call now, you’ll receive one free sex chat with one of our beautiful and sensual ladies. With each sex chat that you purchase receive one free chat the next time you call…. Someone sexy is waiting to talk to you right now…”

 

The chiller service trips had taken Mack to Sonora County Mexico, to Saskatchewan, to Rio De Janiero, and to most of the fifty states – wherever plastic parts were being injection molded and thermoformed. The unique plastic parts he came across were matched by some interesting characters Mack met along the way.

There was New Jersey Rick. NJ Rick was an intense smoker-guy, a middleman who contracted guys like Mack to service his clients. At night Rick liked to go to the strip clubs until the wee hours of the morning. Mack went along once thinking he owed it to Rick for the business. Mack knew better. He would not get those images out of his head. And the next day was brutal.

In Tennessee, there was the Tony, a proud Italian who also did service work. Tony liked to pick up women at the bar and bring them back to his hotel room. Mack found this out one morning. Tony knocked on his motel door and said, “Hey, Mack, you gotta come see this.” So, Mack went and saw a naked woman passed out on the bed. Mack kept his distance from Tony after that. He couldn’t get that image out of his head.

In Terre Haute there was Javier, a six-foot five Mexican. He serviced equipment and women. Javy would go to the dance clubs at night after work. He’d dance, flirt in his muy macho style and then take someone back to his motel room. Mack went along some nights because he was lonely and he was tired of Andy of Mayberry reruns. Javy needed the shared rental car every night, so Mack was dropped off at his motel room before Javy drove his new catch to a nearby bar. Mack couldn’t rid himself of these images.

In De Ridder Louisiana, waking up to the paper mill stench was enough to turn Mack’s stomach. Along with the awful smell, the behavior of his friend Ron unsettled him. Ron was a co-service guy with Mack. There were sites that needed a lot of mechanical help besides software upgrades. Ron did the mechanical work which involved a lot of walking. But this seemed odd to Mack since Ron had a hard time walking. Ron’s permanent limp came about after he fell out of a tree during an acid trip.

Ron, despite his home-grown defect, liked to think of himself as a man’s man – he didn’t just fall out of a tree, he FELL out of a TREE and survived! He would boast about his manliness to Mack and to the women he tried to dance with night after night after work. Ron, like Javy and like Tony, was married when he was at home. All the other times he was in compensation mode – find someone quick or die from loss of reinforced manliness.

During one meal Ron told Mack about his disorder – Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder – so Mack decided that he would drive the rental car from that point on. This meant that Mack was the chauffer for Ron Casanova’s adventures night after night. Mack now had his own flashbacks.

 

The chiller at Automated Plastic Parts worked just as promised – within one degree of set point. Mack had the client sign the service report and then headed back to his hotel room for a shower. After the shower Mack went to Friendly’s for his supper. He didn’t want to have to think or make another decision. He was flat out hungry and all thought out.

Back at his room Mack undressed and got into bed. The TV sputtered light into the space before him. Images came and went. The drone of constant noise weakened his resistance. Mack fell asleep.

 

Mack looked up and saw a stairwell with service men walking up and down the stairs. The men going down the stairs were carrying framed pictures which they dumped in a garbage can at the bottom of the stairs. The men going up received new batteries. And then suddenly, next to Mack stood a man. The man said, “I making a service call. Remember, “If you call now, I will give you a free map. You’ll be driving within one degree of set point in no time.” 

 

Mack woke up with a crick in his neck and vowing to move on with God’s help.

 

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2018, All Rights Reserved

Filed under Short Story, short story Tagged with ,

Jake’s Midnight Dust Up

December 29, 2017 Leave a comment

 

The last day of 2017 found Jake alone in the empty house. The movers had come and gone. Earlier that day Jake sent his wife Rachel off with their two kids to their new home in another state. Jake stayed behind to clean up the house for the new owners. The house belonged to them at midnight.

Rachel was Jake’s second wife. His first wife Leah divorced him after she found out about Jake’s cheating. And, so that there was no more cheating, child support for Jake’s and Leah’s six sons and daughter was deducted from his paycheck. Jake wasn’t proud of what he had done but he was a survivor.

His mother, though, who had taught Jake from his childhood to “get what is yours”, was proud of him. So was Jake’s manager Aram Fields. Aram liked Jake. Jake’s sales record chart was given pride of place in the break room – on an easel next to the water cooler. During the twenty years Jake had worked for Aram, he became Fields Pre-Driven Cars’ top salesman seven years in a row. Jake became family when he married Rachel, Aram’s daughter.

Jake could pitch like no other salesman Aram knew. And, Jake’s mark-up-the-interest-rate-2-or-3 % financing was his specialty. Jake also knew each car’s history and could promote each one as “slightly used but highly prized by its previous owner”. Jake had a way of convincing people to “get what is yours”.

 

Well, that night, while Jake was in the kitchen cleaning the oven, there was a knock on the front door. When Jake opened the door, there stood a man with a tool carrier.

“Hi…uh…I didn’t call you. I…what are you here for?’

“What is your name?”

“Jake.”

“I’m at the right place.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Yes, I am.

“No. I didn’t call anyone. This is still my house.”

“Your house?”

“Yes! Now I have to get back to work. Goodbye…” Jake tried to close the door but the man put his foot in the doorway.

“Hey! Now you are making me mad! Get out!”

“I’m here to fix what is broken.”

“What?! What is broken?”

“Are you sure you didn’t call me?”

“I would know if I called you, wouldn’t I?”

“I have the tools. Let me in.”

“I have my own tools. And, I have what it takes to fix things in my own house.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey you! You know what?! My manager Aram thinks I have what it takes. He pays me pretty good to make things happen.”

“You like to be rewarded for your efforts?”

“Yes, of course!”

“I am here to reward you for your efforts.”

“Huh?”

“I can fix what is broken.”

“What?! What is broken?”

“Are you sure you didn’t call me?”

“I would know if I called you, wouldn’t I?”

“I have the tools. Let me in.”

“I have my own tools. And, I’ve been fixing things all my life.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey! We just went through all this before. You are wasting my time.”

“I did offer to help.”

“I don’t need help. I am my own man. I’m not just another senior citizen you can manipulate. I’ve been around the block.”

“Look, you bicker with me and you bicker with others. You’re good at bickering to “get yours” and at getting other people ‘theirs’. Tell me your name again.”

“Jake! I told you!”

“I’m at the right place.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Yes, I am.

The back and forth between Jake and the man went on for what seemed like hours. Neither Jake or the man gave in. Jake, at last, became exasperated.

“Listen. I didn’t call anyone. This is still my house. I’m in charge”

“Your house? What time is it?

“Time for you to leave! Get outta here!” Jake pushed the door against the man’s foot.

When the man saw that Jake was not going to let him in he grabbed an envelope from the tool carrier and handed it to Jake. Then he asked, “You are Jake Houseman? You purchased 763 Peniel?”

“Yes.”

“Your new property…this is what the bank came back with. You purchased the foreclosure with cash but there is a property tax lien against it.

Jake opened it and saw the notice of notice of lien on his new property. His face wrenched.

“Hey, hold on!” Jake grabbed the man by the arm as he tried to leave. “We’ve got to work this out!”

The man said, “Let me go. I have to be on my way.”

“No way. You are staying until we get this business sorted out!”

“I will work it out. You have my word.” Jake loosened his grip and let go.

“Besides,” the man said, “you are no longer Jake Houseman. You are now Jake Newhouse.” The man winked and then turned and left.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“I knew your father and your grandfather,” the man called back from across the yard.

The man walked past the neighbor’s house and was then out of sight.

Jake stood in the doorway. The rising sun cast his long shadow onto the floor of the empty house behind him. Jake stood there stunned and tired and hurting. After several minutes of looking at the lien and rubbing his forehead, Jake went back inside. He picked up his tools and cleaning supplies. He placed the extra set of house keys on the kitchen table, walked out the front door and then over to his car.

At the sidewalk, Jake, with his face still wrenched, turned to look back at the house.

“I bought someone else’s lemon. What a ball-breaker that guy is! But, I’ll live. Lesson learned. Goodbye house on Jabbok.”

And so Jake saw the sun rise on another year.

 

 

 

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2017, All Rights Reserved

~~~

Chagall – Jacob Wrestling with God

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Schoenberg: Die Jakobsleiter: Friede auf Erden, Op. 13. Orchestral version

Filed under Holiday, New Year's Eve, Short Story, short story, Writing Tagged with , , ,

The Empty Box

December 3, 2017 Leave a comment

 

What?! Christmas morning?! Ryan raced to the tree. Mom and dad had left the tree lights on.

“Mom and dad!”  Ryan yelled from the living room. He wasn’t going to start without them.

Mom and dad appeared in the hallway. “We’re up. Go ahead, Ryan.”

Well, it didn’t take long for Ryan to rip through the wrapping paper on each package. He got almost everything he had asked for.

After all his presents were opened and he lined them up near the couch, Ryan saw something had hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, what’s this? It’s got my name on it.”

Mom went over and looked at the package. She shook it and looked at Roy.

“Did you put this under the tree Roy?”

“Um, No. I don’t remember a package that size.”

“Well, go ahead and open it Ryan,” Mom handed Ryan the present.

Ryan tore into the wrapping paper. A plain box appeared. It was stamped “Not as Fragile as You Might Think”.

Now mom was curious. Dad came over.

Ryan lifted one of the box lids and then the other. He looked inside. His mouth formed a “Wow!”

“It’s empty, mom, dad!”

Mom looked inside too. “Where did that come from? Did your grandparents put that under the tree last night when they were here? Roy, did your dad put that there?”

Roy called grandpa who was always awake at 6:00 reading the paper.

“Dad, did you and mom put a package under the tree? Ryan opened it and its…empty.”

“Roy, you know I don’t put empty packages under the Christmas tree. Are you sure its empty? Look again.”

Roy looked this time.

“Dad, I don’t see anything.”

“Have Ryan look, too.”

“Ryan, look inside again.”

Ryan picked up the box. This time it was bigger. When he pulled the lids back he thought he heard a loud pop. “Whoa, what was that?

“I didn’t hear anything Ryan, “Mom said.

“Roy, do you think that your parents forgot to put a present in?” Ryan’s mother asked.

“Anything is possible with my dad. C’mon. Let’s eat breakfast”

Ryan then remembered Swedish Pancakes with Lingonberry sauce. It was a Christmas morning treat in the Miller house.

 

 

That night, mom had Ryan pick up his toys and bring them to his room. Ryan filled the empty box and carried it to his bedside. He sat down on his bed. And that’s when Ryan’s eyes closed. And, that’s when the dreams began.

 

 

Dreams. How do you describe them? They are whacky and yet they seem to make sense. Here’s what Ryan told his mom about one dream:

“I was floating. It was all dark. Then there was a Pop!” Ryan used his finger and popped it out of his mouth. “There was a big cloud of dust all over me. I coughed and coughed.

“Then the cloud went thuup! and it was gone! And then things started flying all around me. They looked like tiny balls bouncing everywhere. Some of balls stuck together like they didn’t want to be alone in the dark. They were hissing and crunching and…I became scared when I saw a shadow that was darker than night. But the shadow was tossed away by a hand. Then I felt better.

“Did you know mom that numbers are alive? They all dance together!

Then, mom, the together-balls became dust balls. And they became huge, like bowling balls, like bowling balls of fire. Then they exploded and there were more dust balls. And the dust balls became marbles.

And the marbles became globes with smaller globes going around them. Then there was light coming right at me. It was so bright that I had to turn around. When I did, I saw a planet right behind me. The planet had a mouth.

The planet said, “Come and see.” So, I flew toward the planet. As I did, the planet handed me geodes and fossils and rocks, all kinds of rocks. Some were like the red quartz and Jasper that you and dad gave me for my birthday. Then I saw aquariums full of fish. I saw sharks, whales and guppies and Neons and Tetras and…

I looked down into one aquarium. On the bottom of aquarium, I saw belchers. They looked like what we saw at Yellowstone last summer. They sounded like your Christmas coffee maker. “Ururururhhhh Blup!” Urururururhhhh Blup!”

I saw…I think dad calls it… a ter..rari…um… full of bugs and worms and salamanders and lizards and then a brontosaurus showed up and then a Triceratops and then,…

Then I saw a plate. On the plate was Jell-O. But then the Jell-O was two Jell-Os and then four Jell-Os. There were globs of Jell-O everywhere. Do you know what happened next, mom? The globs of Jell-O became Gummy worms.

There was a lot more that happened mom, but, I can’t remember it… Oh,… yeah,… someone poked me and said, “Ryan, Little King, Come and see.”

Then, I was inside a temple, like the one in the picture you showed me one time, mom. Inside the temple were billions and billions of tiny temples. Inside each tiny temple there was a blue light stick. Crazy, huh, mom?

 

When Ryan’s sixth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a rock tumbler. Ryan had begun a rock collection during the family trip out west.

When Ryan’s seventh Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a microscope. Ryan’s dad was a biology teacher. He brought home slide samples of all kinds of microscopic life.

When Ryan’s eighth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a telescope. Not only did he get the telescope but his parents took him to an observatory during Christmas break.

When Ryan’s ninth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for an atlas, a map of the world and astronomy charts. Ryan’s mom and dad also gave him a barometer, a thermometer, a hygrometer and an anemometer. They did this so that Ryan could build a weather station in their backyard.

When Ryan’s tenth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a pair of binoculars and a book about birds. At that time his mother also began to teach Ryan about flora. She showed him how to press flowers into pages of a book.

When Ryan’s eleventh Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a mobile of the planets. He also asked for a compass and for a pencil and some drawing paper. He wanted to draw everything he saw in his head.

When Ryan’s twelfth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a book about the human body and a skeleton. He also asked for a ham radio kit.

When Ryan’s thirteenth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a periodic chart of the elements. He also asked for element 82 and for horseshoe magnets.

A Few of My Favorite Things 2

dad’s coffee

When Ryan’s fourteenth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a spectroscope. He received a prism, a magnifying glass, a physics book and a box of watercolors. 

When Ryan’s fifteenth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a Calculus book. Dad looked at him and said, “Are you sure?” Ryan replied, “I can’t function without it.” Ryan got his book.

When Ryan’s sixteenth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a book about genetics and a DNA helix and a set of keys to the family car. His mom and dad gave him the book. They also gave him pipe cleaners and colored beads and instructions how to build a DNA helix model. The car keys were handed to him after his homework and chores were done.

When Ryan’s seventeenth Christmas came around he asked his mom and dad for a chemistry set. Dad said, “I’ll give you the set but do the experiments in the garage”. Ryan moved his science lab to the garage. He also began to pack for college. He filled the “empty” box with as much as it could hold.

 When Ryan’s eighteenth Christmas came around he said to his mom and dad, “Thank you for everything. You know what? The world is not badly made. I’ll see you during Spring Break.”

 

When Ryan’s eighty-fifth Christmas came around he gave his grandson the empty box as a present and said, “Here, Mikey, you won’t be bored.”

 

 

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2017, All Rights Reserved

 

Filed under Christmas, Holiday, Science, Short Story Tagged with , ,

The Living Bird is Let Loose

November 23, 2017 Leave a comment

 

“And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying: “When a man has on the skin of his body a swelling, a scab, or a bright spot, and it becomes on the skin of his body like a leprous sore, then he shall be brought to Aaron the priest or to one of his sons the priests.  The priest shall examine the sore on the skin of the body; and if the hair on the sore has turned white, and the sore appears to be deeper than the skin of his body, it is a leprous sore.

The above quote is the opening to The Law Concerning Leprosy as recorded in Leviticus 13.

Leprosy: Chronic skin-disease characterized by ulcerous eruptions and successive desquainations of dead skin.

– Jewish Encyclopedia

~~~

In Luke’s gospel account, chapter 17 vs. 11-19, we learn of ten lepers who plead for mercy (“Have pity on us!”) at a distance from the crowd. Keeping a distance from others was in keeping with the law proscribed in Leviticus 13. Any leper who was examined after several specified intervals and then declared unclean was isolated, sent to the outskirts of a city. The “unclean” would be required to yell “Unclean!” to any passersby.

Most of us know from a Sunday School lesson what happens in Luke’s gospel account: ten lepers are completely healed by Jesus. The ten are sent by Jesus, in keeping with the Law, to a priest for examination. Only one of the lepers returns to give thanks to Jesus.

The_Healing_of_Ten_Lepers_(Guérison_de_dix_lépreux)_-_James_Tissot_-_overall

The Healing of Ten Lepers by James Tissot

“Is it really the case that the only one who had the decency to give God the glory was this foreigner?”

The healing occurs as Jesus passes along the borderlands between Samaria and Galilee on his way to Jerusalem. The formerly leprous foreigner, and not the nine formerly leprous Israelites, is the one who returns to Jesus to give thanks. Like the Samaritan women who would gladly eat the crumbs under the master’s table, this foreigner knew that Israel’s God was different from all other gods. How different, this foreigner would come to find out. The difference would make his skin tingle.

Jesus made it clear to his disciples that his mission on earth, his vocation, was to his covenant people, the Jews. The Jews were the people God chose to bring light to the nations. But the Jews failed in their vocation. Rebellion, idolatry, stiff necked obstinacy, you name it. The people resisted their calling even after witnessing the extraordinary events of the Exodus – the Plagues, the Red sea dividing, the cloud by day, fire by night, manna on the ground in the morning and water flowing from a rock. The Covenant people resisted their calling even when given a tutor-personal words from God-to keep themselves from sin and sickness and to bring healing to the nations.

One leper returned to give, “God the glory.” Did those hearing Jesus words to this foreigner think about their vocation? Did God’s covenant people, Israel, presume a right to be an entitled people of God’s goodness. Were God’s people like the nine newly restored lepers with a focus on themselves? (Imagine a people focused on a right to healthcare.)

As one can see, the ten-leper account is an analog of the Israel’s history through the centuries. Leprosy is an analog for sin. Sin is that chronic soul-disease characterized by ulcerous eruptions of wickedness and successive offenses and sins of the walking dead.

Early on, Israel was told to eradicate idols from their lives. They were to be a separate and distinct people from the nations around them. When Israel became like other nations and chose to believe that God is not all that He was proclaimed to be, God sent prophets.

The prophet Isaiah, in the presence of God, declared as “the foundations of the thresholds trembled at the voice of him who called out, while the temple was filling with smoke. “Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty.” -Isaiah 6:5

In God’s presence, Isaiah was made aware of his and Israel’s’ condition. Isaiah would prophecy against Israel-the Northern Kingdom. Corporately, Israel was rich and prosperous under the rule of Jereboam. But individually, Israel was very corrupt. Israel would be expelled from home. By 621 B.C. Israel would be conquered and carried into captivity by the Assyrians.

In exile, Israel pleaded for mercy (“Have pity on us!”).

 

Let’s return to the ten lepers. After healing them Jesus tells them, “Go show yourselves to the priests.”

The following quote is The Ritual for Cleansing Healed Lepers as recorded in Leviticus 14:

“Then the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, “This shall be the law of the leper for the day of his cleansing: He shall be brought to the priest.  And the priest shall go out of the camp, and the priest shall examine him; and indeed, if the leprosy is healed in the leper, then the priest shall command to take for him who is to be cleansed two living and clean birds, cedar wood, scarlet, and hyssop.  And the priest shall command that one of the birds be killed in an earthen vessel over running water.  As for the living bird, he shall take it, the cedar wood and the scarlet and the hyssop, and dip them and the living bird in the blood of the bird that was killed over the running water.  And he shall sprinkle it seven times on him who is to be cleansed from the leprosy, and shall pronounce him clean, and shall let the living bird loose in the open field. He who is to be cleansed shall wash his clothes, shave off all his hair, and wash himself in water, that he may be clean. After that he shall come into the camp, and shall stay outside his tent seven days. But on the seventh day he shall shave all the hair off his head and his beard and his eyebrows—all his hair he shall shave off. He shall wash his clothes and wash his body in water, and he shall be clean…

“Then the priest shall offer the sin offering, and make atonement for him who is to be cleansed from his uncleanness. Afterward he shall kill the burnt offering. And the priest shall offer the burnt offering and the grain offering on the altar. So the priest shall make atonement for him, and he shall be clean.”

Do you see any analogs in the above passage? What is it about the two birds? One is killed and the other set free. And, what about that earthen vessel in which one bird is killed?

 

In Leviticus 13, the priests were required to check the skin of the individual who was observed to have an ulcerous skin condition. The priest did this over several prescribed intervals. Each time the priest would examine the individual to determine if…

“If, after the scales of leprosy have spread over nearly the whole body, a bleeding and scaleless ulcer (miḥyah) is observed, the subject is unclean. Similarly, if the scales, having covered almost the whole body, fall off in one place and uncover an old bleeding ulcer, the subject is unclean.” – Jewish Encyclopedia

It is interesting to note that in the next verses following the account of the lepers, Luke 17 vs. 20-21, that Jesus refers to what is observed to answer the Pharisees question, a question which was on every Jew’s mind. He reminds them of what you can see with Kingdom eyes:

“The Pharisees asked Jesus when the kingdom of God was coming.

“God’s Kingdom,” replied Jesus isn’t the sort of thing you can watch for and see coming. People won’t say, ‘Look, here it is,’ or “Look, over there!” No: God’s kingdom is within your grasp.”

In giving the lepers a renewed humanity and by restoring them to their communities and Synagogues from exile Jesus was doing the work of the Kingdom on earth. He hoped the nine of Israel (and the crowd) would have grasped this. We are told that the only one to “give God the glory” was the foreigner. Do you think he kneeled and grasped Jesus’ feet in thanksgiving?

Filed under Christianity, Holiday, Kingdom of God, Short Story, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Tagged with , , ,

Nobody Does It Better

October 27, 2017 Leave a comment

 

It was almost 5 AM when Carl finished his workout. Carl headed for FoodNation to buy groceries for the day. Once inside, there was no mistaking the smell of freshly baked carbs. Carl smiled. He remembered an old cartoon where an enticing aroma was shown to lift a character off of his feet, draw him along and then place him in front of its enticing source. Carl decided not to be a cartoon character today.

Carl walked past his wafting imagination. He walked past the aisle of styrene-encased carbs and the men in knee pads reshuffling and restocking dated poly-packaged carbs. He walked past the sugar-covered carbs.

Carl walked past the frozen carbs, the cryopreserved carbs.

Carl walked past the aisle of processed ethnic food stuffs. Carl walked past the aisle of colorful billboard-boxed carbs. Each box proclaiming vast health benefits with every “great” bite. Carl walked past the cardboard-boxed dried carbs. Carl walked past the aisle of unembarrassed in-the-bag sugar. Carl walked past the aisles of incarcerated-canned vegetables and the hitting-the-bottle jars of preserved condiments.

And Carl walked past the fashionable colors of carbonation in the liquid sugar aisle.

Carl reached the water aisle and pulled a bottle of drinking water off the shelf. He smiled. Like James Bond he would live to die another day.

 

Carl had come to his health care senses a while back. At that time, he didn’t feel good or look the part of 00Carl. So, there was no doubt – he had to make some changes. And beside his own topology concerns there was one, no, there were many other prompters that changed his health habits.

Carl couldn’t help notice that many men and women were no longer walking. Instead, they were waddling. To go forward they would rock back and forth, shifting weight from one bad knee to the other in a slow, plodding fashion, as if pulling a sled full of lumber. Some of the living dead weight moved though FoodNation driving their immense form around in the motorized shopping carts with the appearance of a parody parade float.

When Carl reached the checkout counter that day he waited while up ahead liters of soft drinks, boxes and boxes of cereal, bags of treats and goodies and packaged preservatives force-fed the conveyor belts.

Once the motorized cart had been emptied of its contents, Carl placed the divider down on the conveyor. Behind the divider he placed his bottled water, a bag of walnuts, a carton of eggs, a bag of mixed greens and a salmon fillet for dinner. Carl had decided to invest in his future. He needed his legs to make a go of it.

 

The end. (But not for Carl.)

 

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2017, All Rights Reserved

~~~

When will a grocery store be designed for health instead of consumerism? Along the same line, have you noticed the horrible and often offensive background music?

Mission Impossible Theme>>>

Filed under Health, Health Care, Short Story Tagged with , , ,

Gulpture in the Park

September 24, 2017 Leave a comment

 

“… Abstraction came about through the ever-narrowing focus of aesthetic gaze.

The post-modern offshoots of abstract art may seem to be engaged in the same artistic project; but the appearance is, it seems to me, deceptive. Post-modern abstraction is really construction, in which abstract elements are combined ab initio, and without reference to the natural forms and perceptions which might have endowed them with meaning…. Their purpose is to glorify the sovereign role of the artist, who shifts and arranges them as would a child playing with colored blocks…The result has been a sudden narrowing of the artistic intention, and a launching of post-modern art towards bombast and doodling by turns.”

-Roger Scruton, An Intelligent Persons’ Guide to Modern Culture, Chapter Eight

~~~

Over many months now, during my morning contemplative walks in a local park, I have encountered objets d’déclin. Mother Earth needed tattoos to be in vogue.

A gaggle of local apparatchiks of post-modern persuasion decided at some point that nature’s exhilarating beauty-a body of narrative to be read over and to reflect on-should be forever ‘inked’ with the flippant constructionism of various ‘artists’.

The local approvers and inciters of inhuman aesthetics have ‘carnivalized’ a local nature preserve, a park and a paradise infused with wildflowers along a river, where, along such “springs in the valleys” (Psalm 104) “The birds of the sky nest by the waters; they sing among the branches.” No matter, though. By so doing, the self-appointed culture-mongers can connote their relevance and earn self-aggrandizement brownie points with the community.

Pictures at an Exhibition:

Entrance to St. Mary’s Park

PM Art vs. Tree Planted in Memoriam

Nature’s Way

Nature Sculpts

 

Nature Revealed in Sculpture

And, “Do Not Feed Post-Modern Artists”

The last photo, a #LGBT advert, fits the theme: the ‘carnivalizing’ of nature and nature’s compliment, Scripture. More about this in the next post.

Filed under Art, Christianity, Photography, Post-Moderism, Short Story Tagged with , , , , ,

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