...but on the other hand...

....But on the Other Hand....
You know how the doctor walks into the room and says, "I've got good news, and bad news." Usually we are anxious to hear the good new first so that we will have a positive mental attitude to deal with the bad. I fear I have done the opposite. I have spent plenty of time examining the bad, so I thought we'd better look at the good. Oh yes. There is some to look at.

Right now I'm sitting in a comfortable, climate controlled environment with sophisticated technology at my fingertips helping to get my work done. I don't expect any burlymen to show up at my door wanting to take me away. Not today, anyway. It's 3:00 in the pm and the breakfast I had was so bounteous that it's still with me. If I get hungry for supper, it's already in the fridge. I am in absolutely no physical discomfort that rises above the trivial. I have the assurance of God's love in my heart. I have too many blessings to count, and don't kid me, so do you. I don't want God to have to apologize for giving me life because I didn't have a better time. If we choose to survey the good, it's there. Tut tut. You may not want to read on because the good doesn't titillate you. Most of us want to be scared. We think we can motivate and get motivated by fear. We think people will get off their dead center if they are frightened. They will, but just enough to feel safe again. 6 months later we have to motivate again. A person's heart must be in the effort. If his heart is in it, he will motivate himself.

The thing that precipitated my thoughts on counting the good was a new statistic that came out. "55% of Americans now favor gay marriage. 39% oppose it, and 6% are unsure". You may be aghast at this statistic. You may ask, "how can one see the good in that?" Now when I read statistics in a magazine, I immediately peruse the other articles. One can quickly discern the leanings of the publication, and all publications lean, including this one.  Evidence requires interpretation.   This magazine was leaning far enough left that one wonders why it didn't tip over, and the statistics were an average from many other liberal publications' surveys. So I adjusted for that and figure the truth is probably about 48% for, 46% against, and 6% unsure. Not all of the 46% are Christians. Many are just pragmatists who realize that Bible Belt ethics work. By the way, I don't think my opinion has ever been surveyed. Has your's? As well, we usually think of liberals living on the coasts and in our metro areas. Only 20% of Americans live in rural areas. That leaves at scores of millions opposed to gay marriage who are living in our cities.

If I were in a tennis tournament and had won 46% of 100 matches, and I went up against a player that had won 48% of 100 matches, I would say we were pretty evenly matched. Wagerers wouldn't stand to profit much.

Now I could write a dire warning because 48% approve of gay marriage, but I decided to write one of encouragement because 46% oppose it. I assume the survey was taken among adults, and there are 217 million over the age of 18 in America currently. Let's say roughly then, that 100 million American adults oppose gay marriage.

Do you know how many 100 million adults are? That's enough to fill 50,000 cruise ships. If we wanted to carpool and go to D.C., it would take every vehicle that is rolling down every piece of roadway in the U.S. as we speak! We would weigh in at 8 million tons! It would take 7 million head of beef to provide each of us a sirloin dinner! If each of us had a square yard to stand on, it would cover 35 sqare miles! That's about all that you could see if you were standing in the middle of the crowd on perfectly flat ground! The curvature of the earth would keep you from seeing any further. Have you been in the OSU horse shoe when it's full? It would take 1000 more of those stadiums to seat everyone! If you were sitting at the tracks and a train car load of soybeans tipped over in front of you, you would have about 100 million beans coming at you. My calculator is overheating and I think my brain is too. Let me go get a glass of iced tea and rest a bit.

There. That's better. To continue: I can take pleasure in the number that are with me on this. I didn't say I was "satisfied". The word "satisfied" implies that I can rest on my laurels, and we can't do that. We can take some pleasure with what we have, though, can't we? After I mow my back yard, it is time for a break. Even though I haven't mowed the front yet, I can take pleasure in sitting on the back porch with a glass of ice water and gazing out at what is done. Is it a sin to rejoice in the fact that 100 million adults in this country seem to endorse conservative moral values? Is there an intrinsic rectitude in looking like Wood's American Gothic all the time? Is that what it takes to please God? Perhaps I should have plastic surgery and have my face molded into a permanent scowl. Perhaps I should slump and walk as a beleaguered slave. Surely everyone would see me coming and remark, "SHHHH! Here comes a Holy Man of God! OH! Holy Man! Give us a word from the Lord!" "You're all going to Hell! Now leave me alone while I finish eating my lemon peel!"

Think about this for a moment. Why do those who endorse evil seem to have this compulsion to "strut their stuff" in public? Why do obscene graffiti artists and gay paraders and demonic rock bands and profane talkers all feel the need to do it so loud? To offend. To offend those who disagree with them. Why would you want to be that overt unless you wanted your stuff to fall upon the eyes and ears of those who don't appreciate it? You could do like we do in the church. We go inside buildings and sing our songs and pray our prayers with those who agree with us so as not to offend (when maybe we should go on the offense.) So when I see a gay couple slobber on each other or hear a man scream maledictions at the top of his lungs, I have to smile, because, you see, he wouldn't do it if I wasn't there to hear or see it. Somehow, it is a comfort to me that the wicked still recognize that there are 100 million people to offend, so they feel the necessity of being blatant.

You may say, "But Ken, all the things you mentioned are true for the other side too." Well, admittedly, if the odds were 20 to 1, or even 10 to 1, it would take more faith. But I have to remember, God doesn't even need 10% of the people to get it done. 1% was enough for Gideon. 1% would have been enough for Sodom. 1% were enough for Elijah. A basketful was enough for Jesus. It wasn't very long after I entered the ministry that I learned that I was probably not going to rise to a place of prominence where I could address the whole world with a message that would cause them all to become Christians. For 43 years now it has been one at a time. I guess the reason I have kept on is because I know what God can do with only one.

Hitler had an army with the most firepower ever amassed. After he blew through enough nations with his "blitzkrieg", a significant number of Brits, even those among the aristocracy got out their swastikas, practiced their goose step and salute, and prepared to welcome the Third Reich; but the slumbering allies finally woke up, got together, and shut him down. I could mention all the "miracles" of divine intervention that helped us succeed if I had enough paper. I have lived the largest share of my life during the "cold war". I was told at the age of 13 that I wouldn't make 17. I was never "gung ho" about High School. After all, a nuclear exchange was imminent. After I made 17, I was told I would die in Southeast Asia. Now I am told that I will be beheaded by the Muslims. The Doctor told me 3 years ago that my kidneys had about 2 months left. A vitamin D tablet and a little exercise every day brought them back on line and I'm certain God had something to do with it too. They are doing better than half and that's enough. I know a lot of prayer went up for me. There have always been the voices of doom, but right seems somehow to prevail eventually. Unless it had repeatedly prevailed for millennia now, the human race would be extinct. I don't take deliverance for granted, but I can't take the track record of right for granted either. I have taken more years off my life by worrying about bleak portents. I realize now that 90% of what I worry about are things I can't control anyway. The other 10% I can do something about. It's just a matter of gearing up, praying up, and stepping up.

Do you suppose God takes pleasure in the portion He has, even though it's not all? Or do you suppose that He's in a perpetual, cosmic snit, ignoring the millions who love Him? If so, I'd be shy about approaching Him; afraid I may get my head bitten off. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't work well under those conditions. I would just walk away.

I will say without reservation that Ronald Reagan was my favorite President. He may not have been the most able, but the man just beamed with optimism. I think the secret to his success was his ability to make at least half of us feel that we could do it; and we did. We did it with half.

Precious Wormholes

Precious Wormholes

Eph 4:6 (There is) One God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all , and in you all.

Paul’s prepositions leave me dizzy sometimes. It is because he is describing something that is not a physical thing that I can see, touch, or measure with a yardstick. These are abstractions, as opposed to concretes. For instance; the truth that Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father does not describe a concrete; as if God were sitting at a set of given coordinates in space and Jesus was at His right hand. It is a description of authority. The "right hand" is similar to the authoritative position that Joseph had with Pharaoh after Pharaoh placed his ring on Joseph’s finger (Gen. 41). When prepositions are used to describe abstract concepts, they are less precise. One person may say "I pray in the name of Jesus". Another says "I pray through the name of Jesus". Another says "I pray by the name of Jesus". Concretely, they disagree. If something is "in" something else, we mean it is enveloped by it. If something is "through" something we mean some of it is sticking out one side and some the other. Abstractly, however, we can agree that they are saying the same thing.


I prefer concrete. It tends to leave less doubt and does not allow a lot of room for debate. When I think of God I want him to be a concrete Entity Who is at given coordinates in space and time. No matter how much I want that, however, I know that He cannot be limited to that, or limited in any way unless He chooses to limit Himself by His promises, which are irrefutable. He "cannot" destroy the world by water. He promised.

I am sitting in an isolated farm house. It is 18 degrees outside and snow passes my window in horizontal streaks. Or is it that my house is flying through the snow? I have no frame of reference. Nothing but a light grey background. I may as well be drifting in deep space, in which case we could not say which was moving; only that one or both were moving relative to the other. I am pretty sure my wife is at work right now, concretely 5 miles away. My son is at work, concretely 7 miles the other direction. My daughter is schooling my grandchildren 250 concrete miles away. I visited my Dad recently, but the old Ford pickup put 750 concrete miles of road between us. I am away from him and it doesn’t feel as comfy as when we were sitting at his kitchen table playing Rummy. None of my family in Christ are concretely by my side presently. Only abstractly; but I guess I have not grown in the Spirit enough for that to fully satisfy. Only Sunday at the old concrete church bldg. will suffice.

Time and space. Time and space. I use that phrase a lot because it is my ever present prison guard sitting on a high horse with rifle in hand. His straw cowboy hat provides shade. His shirt sleeves flap in the breeze while I swelter in the quarry below. It makes my life difficult.

I heated a frozen Burrito with waves of electromagnetic radiation moving at the speed of light. That’s not cooking. Not like my wife does it at home. I feel better when my loved ones are concretely in the house with me. They make me warm and relaxed. I like to think myself independent enough to thrive alone, but I probably wouldn’t do well as a hermit.

Though I accept that Paul’s gaggle of prepositions, all used to modify the same object, are true, I have to accept that by faith. For now, it is somewhere between knowledge and imagination. Paul admitted as much. 1 Cor 13:12 For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

I think I feel much like David when he said Ps 51:11 Cast me not away from thy presence ; and take not thy holy spirit from me. David was insecure when he felt that God was distant. Like a child with his favorite blanket, David longed to hang on to the hem of God’s garment all through his life. So do I because I am a lump of matter, stuck. I need a passageway, a "wormhole" if you will, that I can go through and touch the hem of my Lord’s garment.

Now bear with a little musing here, for hopefully it paints a picture of a very real truth. People privy to more info. than I say that space is curved or folded. It only appears straight to us because the light of stars, the streaming rays of which may have been there since creation, are registering through our optic nerve as single points of light. It’s sort of like the discernable picture on your TV that has come through a tangle of wires. That’s not technically accurate, I’m sure, but serves as a rough illustration. We know there are "black holes" and near or inside these may be "wormholes" (Einstein-Rosen bridges). They could be a shortcut to another fold of space or to another dimension altogether. They are mathematically probable.



So how can we sense the nearness of God who permeates the whole universe, and all other dimensions that may exist; and Whose presence, wisdom, and power extends on infinitely?

Here is what I mean to illustrate with wormholes. God knows that we cannot comprehend the thicket of prepositions needed to describe true abstractions about Him; and He knows that we need to be assured that He is not dead or on a trip billions of light years away, but is concretely very near. That is why, bless His heart, He has already created a couple of wormholes for us. They are passageways to a more concrete realization of God’s presence. It is outside, inside, and through; but it is very close. As close as the breath in your nostrils. The passageways through which we draw near are none other than those tangible rituals that the church has observed for two millennia now. They are…..baptism and the Lord’s supper.

The older I get, the more precious these ancient elements of the Christian doctrine become.



Baptism. I have baptized in clean water and dirty water, heated water and water made clear of ice, still water and water flowing so fast that someone had to hold on to a tree root with one hand and my belt with the other. Splashing. Gurgling. Plunging. A solemn burial. The sinner takes one last breath of the stench of iniquities, and catches the first breath of an eternally pristine morning. The sound of the "bap" "ti" "zo" as the sinner hits the surface, goes under, and rises again as pure as the heart of our sweet Jesus. Coughing and sputtering mixed with laughter and joy. The wiping clear of new eyes that see things never dreamed of. The hugs and tears and "welcome brother". I do it into the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins and the receiving of the Holy Spirit. I hear the crack of lightning as His gavel strikes and the verdict is overturned. It is sealed with an authority that paralyzes every minion of Hell. I see Him surround the sinner with His own blood. For that brief moment, I have been jerked through a wormhole. I have touched the hem of my Lord’s garment.

The Lord’s Supper. An old wooden table spread with a simple meal. Now the noise is muted. Now the dust settles. Now time stops. Busy men are brought to a standstill; their heads are bowed and calloused hands are folded. Nothing matters except work that we could not do, a price that we could not pay. Deep groans of terror suffered by One. Deep sighs of relief breathed by many. Ruptured is a barrier that made all others pale. Vanquished. Obliterated. Forever sinking in a bottomless sea. Never to be remembered again. What is this bread? I break it between my teeth. It is not bitter. It is not sweet. It is just broken. I broke it. What is this violet libation that snaps me to absolute sobriety? It washes my mouth clean of the bread. It is only one swallow but it quenches like no other. I feel it sink deep into my chest. It pierces my heart and spreads through my members. It is pure. I am not. Like ice water pouring through a hot steel pipe. The reaction is violent but soon fades. The liquid quickly prevails. What was that He said? Matt 26:29 But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom. Is He here, with me? Yes; just over my shoulder. I show Him my wounds that are bleeding me dry. He shows me His. From them flows an eternal river that cannot run dry. For that brief moment, I have been jerked through a wormhole. I have touched the hem of my Lord’s garment. The panic stops. The kicking and gasping stops. The bleeding stops. He is here. He has filled me with His blood and I am sane again.

In, through, above, below, to, fro, beside, ad infinitum. How can you modify God with a preposition? How can you modify Him at all? If He says He is with you, oh my brother, believe it