You Shall See Greater Things Than This...

The Appointed Time

2012-01-27T10:32:00.000-05:00

Have you ever experienced an unexpected jolt of adrenaline, as you suddenly remembered an important appointment? Perhaps your mind had been elsewhere, engaged with the issues of life, when your awareness was invaded by the memory of a previous commitment, the time for which was rapidly approaching. I was reading in Psalm 102 recently, and my attention was similarly arrested when I read the following words in verse 13:

Thou wilt arise and have compassion on Zion;

For it is time to be gracious to her,

For the appointed time has come.

I came away with the distinct impression that it was as though God had reached a particular item on His to-do list, and He wanted to me to participate. Or, to put it in other words, a moment previously designated for some purpose – the extension of grace and compassion to Zion – had arrived, and I was invited to cooperate.

Although most commentators believe this passage to be a reference to the 70-year Babylonian captivity at the time of Daniel, I thought of the beginning words of Isaiah 40: “Comfort, O Comfort My people…speak kindly to Jerusalem.” The passage goes on to prophesy the arrival of John the Baptist, foretell the ministry of Jesus, and explore the immeasurable greatness of God. Notably, though, is the compassionate nature of this description of Jesus’ objective: “Like a shepherd He will tend His flock, in His arms He will gather the lambs.” It is interesting to note that only 13 chapters later, Isaiah describes the ministry of Jesus in similar themes, but with strikingly different roles. How immense Jesus’ compassion must have been, to lovingly shelter the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and then become as vulnerable as a defenseless lamb when they turned against Him.

We all know that, by and large, the lost sheep of the house of Israel rejected their Shepherd’s ministry. However, Zechariah prophesies that a remnant will be preserved and will – at the appointed time – be in a position to receive the compassionate Spirit of grace, look upon Him whom they’d pierced, and repentantly mourn for Him (Zech 12:10). Paul affirms this end-time revival in his analogy of the olive tree, noting that “God is able to graft them in again” (Rom 11). He adds, later in the same chapter, that, after the fullness of the Gentiles has been grafted in – at the appointed time, all Israel will thus be saved.

Two other aspects of Psalm 102 are worthy of note. The 15th verse indicates there are some pretty significant consequences to the gracious extension of compassion on Zion: “So the nations will fear the name of Jehovah, and all the kings of the earth Thy glory.” This juxtaposition of Divine attention on Israel, followed by a global movement towards repentance, is reminiscent of the 7th chapter of Revelation. In this account, John observes twelve thousand from each tribe set apart for some purpose, and a short while later, he witnesses an innumerable host, including members from every nation, tribe, and tongue – indeed, every ethne – standing before the Lamb and worshipping with a loud voice. Could it be that the gracious compassion extended to Zion in Psalm 102 represents the first of the final steps in completing the Great Commission? Is it possible that the latter-day revival foreseen by Zechariah is the key that unlocks repentance from every people group, resulting in the production of an inheritance truly worthy of our Savior’s glory?

If indeed the appointed time is upon us, look no further than Psalm 102:17 for some practical advice: “He has regarded the prayer of the destitute, and has not despised their prayer.” When Daniel determined that the days allotted for his people’s exile were about to elapse, he “gave his attention to the Lord God to seek Him by prayer and supplications, with fasting, sackcloth, and ashes” (Dan 9:3). Daniel was no spectator; he saw the promises of God from afar, mixed them with his faith, and somehow, in some mysterious way, cooperated with God in returning His people to the Promised Land.

This is the call for us today. The appointed time has come for God to be gracious to Zion; the time has come for the nations to fear the name of God, and all the kings of the earth to see His glory. Let us bestir ourselves to give our attention to the Lord God, to seek Him as Daniel did, using every expression of faith at our disposal. May we then cooperate with the Creator of the Universe and see Him as the Savior of all mankind.

The All-Purpose Cleaner

2011-07-21T20:07:00.001-04:00

Did you know that a five-pound bag of wheat flour can have as many as 3,000 insect fragments? Or that a 1.5-ounce chocolate bar could contain up to 30 microscopic insect parts? Although none of us would choose to make insects a regular part of our diet, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration kindly reminds us that “it is not possible, and never has been possible, to grow in open fields, harvest and process crops that are totally free of defects.” Thus, while we might have a natural aversion to dining on such things as aphids, unless we restrict our consumption exclusively to Twinkies and Cheese Whiz, we have undoubtedly eaten many such creatures inadvertently over the years.

Supposedly, the FDA’s Food Defect Action Levels are set such that the natural or unavoidable amount of insects contained in our food do not present a health hazard to humans. So, while we may consume some amount of aphids or other insect larvae, no remedy is necessary or even desired (except, perhaps, refraining from reading the FDAL handbook!). However, there are things out there that all of us encounter in our experience that are more serious and do present a hazard to us, and consequently, must be addressed effectively. Chief among these are sin, and the effects of living in a world full of iniquity.

James tells us that pure and undefiled religion is, among other things, keeping oneself unspotted from the world. (James 1:27) If it is desirable, then, that we keep ourselves unspotted from the world, we must posit therefore that it is possible to become spotted from the world. The question is, how does this happen? I think we would all agree that our own sin creates undesirable consequences: the wages of sin is death. But what about the cumulative effect of other’s sins? We are certainly not held responsible for other’s actions, or inactions, but could this be how one would become spotted from the world? Isaiah observed that the world is polluted by its inhabitants, because they have disobeyed God. (Isaiah 24:5) It is encounters with this pollution that, I believe, causes us to otherwise become spotted from the world.

Peter recommends that we make every effort to be spotless, blameless, and at peace with God. (2 Peter 3:14) But how can we do this with so much iniquity in the world? Encounters with the moral pollution around us are just as unavoidable as the inadvertent consumption of insect fragments. It is possible, therefore, I would suggest, to be blameless, but not spotless. To paraphrase the FDA’s caveat quoted above, “it is not possible, and never has been possible, to live in the world and keep oneself unspotted from it without the application of some remedy.” But, thank God, there is a remedy! A remedy which is effective and, when applied, makes us spotless, blameless, and at peace with our Creator.

This remedy is, of course, none other than the blood of Jesus. John reminds us that the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7), and even though it probably goes without saying, it is worth noting that the blood of Jesus is superior to any other spiritual cleansing agent – there is no stain, spot, or blemish that it cannot remove. The seventh chapter of Revelation speaks of a particular group of people that had “washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” They were not strangers to the unavoidable pollution found in the world, but they had made liberal application of the remedy – the remedy that kept them spotless, blameless, and at peace with God. May we, too, make daily application of this Divine Remedy and keep ourselves unspotted from the world.

Guard Your Heart

2011-06-24T06:44:00.001-04:00

The sixth chapter of 2 Samuel tells of the triumphant story of the return of the ark of God to Jerusalem by King David. This historic event comes itself on the heels of several successful military campaigns by the nascent leader. He had captured the stronghold of Zion, despite its seemingly impregnable defenses, and he had executed the ground breaking defeat of the Philistines at Baal-Perazim. It was against this backdrop – of the house of David steadily strengthening – that David went to the house of Obed-edom to retrieve the ark of God “with gladness.”

Things were looking up for David, and he knew it. But he recognized that his success was a result of divine favor. He realized that God had established him as king over Israel and that his kingdom would be exalted for the sake of the nation. Moreover, his breakthrough of the Philistine armies came about after receiving strategic counsel directly from the Most High. So when he realized that God was going to favor his efforts to bring the ark of God to Jerusalem, he had every reason to be jubilant.

As is often the case with expressive people, David knew how to be jubilant. After the first six steps of the ark-bearers, he offered a sacrifice of thanksgiving to God. As the procession entered the city, he leapt and danced before God with all his might. Indeed, the whole house of Israel was with him, shouting and playing trumpets. When the ark of God arrived at the tent that had been pitched for it, David offered further sacrifices of thanksgiving, and even gave gifts to all the multitude that were there, celebrating with him. Needless to say, I think it is safe to conclude that this was widely viewed as a joyful occasion.

But not by everyone, unfortunately. David’s wife Michal – who was also the daughter of King Saul – had taken in the parade from her window and was apparently embarrassed by her husband’s behavior. In his celebratory actions, David had put on the priestly garment and, presumably, shed his royal vestments. This bothered Michal, but the Scriptures don’t tell us clearly why she was upset.

Perhaps her personality was more reserved, and she felt disconcerted by David’s unmitigated expressions of joy. Perhaps other activities had kept her busy, keeping her from fully engaging with the celebration and therefore understanding its significance. Perhaps she was feeling the effects of pride in her heart: “My father was never that undignified when he was king…”. We don’t really know. But we do know that she allowed, tragically, this difference to transact something far more serious than a mere personality difference might otherwise suggest: she despised him in her heart. This, as we know, went on to have severely debilitating effects on their marriage.

Undoubtedly, none of us are stranger to the periodic encounters that highlight differences of personality or expectations. These occurrences are not, in and of themselves, wrong or necessarily indicative of a problem. But we should do everything we can to avoid the fate of Michal, who allowed them to develop into something which eroded the effectiveness of one of her most important relationships. A key antidote to this fate is given for us in I Peter 4: “Keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins,” and, I would add, a sea of idiosyncrasies and a mountain of quirks. As we navigate those seas and mountains especially, may we each be diligent in expressing the love of Christ to those around us.

In Your Debt

2011-06-10T11:27:00.002-04:00

One of the hottest political potatoes presently before the United States Congress is the debate over the so-called debt ceiling. The Constitution places within the Congress the sole authority to authorize spending of the federal government and, in cases when there is insufficient income with which to finance that spending, the Congress must also authorize the U.S. Treasury to borrow funds and how much. The current statutory limit, or, maximum amount the Treasury is allowed to borrow, is an unimaginable $14.294 trillion. This limit was reached on May 16, so the Congress must now decide whether to increase the limit and if so, by how much. Opponents of an increase argue that the deficit spending of the past decade has placed the nation on an unsustainable course and only drastic measures will preserve its viability. The Secretary of the Treasury, Timothy Geithner, however, is warning of unpredictable and potentially catastrophic consequences if the federal government is not authorized to borrow additional funds within the next couple of months. In my humble opinion, I think they’re both right.

Without delving into the pros and cons of the political considerations, though, perhaps it would be helpful to evaluate this issue in the light of Scripture. The Bible clearly speaks to the issue of national and personal debt, and the wise observer of current events does well to put the loquacious arguments of his fellow man in the context of God’s Word. Against this true plumb line, it is often easy to see what is out of balance or erroneous.

Consider the promises of Deuteronomy 28 – that familiar passage where God outlines the blessings of obedience and the consequences of disobedience. If the country is aligned with Godly principles, than the nation will be in a position to lend to many other nations, and not have to borrow. But if the nation is disobedient, the alien will lend to instead of borrow from the nation. Today, the United States is currently borrowing at least $10 billion from each of 53 foreign nations and many smaller amounts from dozens of others countries, plus nearly $2.5 trillion from various individuals and investors. Furthermore, although the U.S. gives billions of dollars of aid every year, it does not lend to anyone. Clearly, having to borrow money is not an indication of God’s blessing and, clearly, the United States is coming down on the wrong side of that equation.

But why is debt a bad thing? As Solomon pointed out in Proverbs 22, it introduces an unhealthy dynamic into the relationship between the borrower and lender, and as Jesus further clarified in Matthew 6, it handicaps the relationship between the borrower and God. One who borrows money is subject to the demands of his creditor; he “becomes the lender’s slave.” God did not design money to be a tool for gaining social leverage in this way, and we do well to recognize – and avoid – its impacts. Furthermore, when the borrower is servant to the lender, he is unable to fully devote himself to being God’s servant. He is then forced to navigate the impossible task of serving two masters. Again, we do well to recognize – and avoid – this handicap to our relationship with our Savior.

So what ought we – and the United States – to do? We need look no further than Romans 8:13: “Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another.” Interestingly here, the original Greek includes an emphatic double negative (In Greek, unlike English, multiple negatives are used to increase emphasis.). One should not allow indebtedness to develop with anyone, for any reason. It is also worth nothing that no economic exceptions are given; not for governmental or commercial enterprises, neither for large expenditures or those outside of one’s price range. The only exception is the debt of love we owe each other in fulfillment of the requirements of God’s law.

The solutions to our national fiscal problems are complex, but the problem is clear: we should not be in debt. Let us pray for our country to be realigned with Godly principles and thereby warrant the kinds of fiscal prosperity promised in Deuteronomy 28. And let us make sure our own fiscal houses are in order, owing nothing to anyone except the unconditional love of Christ.

Nature in Commotion

2011-05-26T20:45:00.002-04:00

According to Dr. Jeff Masters’ WunderBlog, the United States has experienced seven billion-dollar weather disasters so far this year. The most billion-dollar weather disasters to occur in one year was in 2008, when there were nine. But so far this year, billions of dollars of damage has been caused, not to mention hundreds of lives lost, by the Groundhog Day blizzard, several tornado outbreaks, the Mississippi River flood, and the drought in Texas. And this isn’t the only place where nature seems to be in upheaval. There has been significant flooding in Brazil, Angola, and Australia, and an epic dust storm in Kuwait; Japan alone has experienced close to 1000 earthquakes since March 11. Is the recent increase in significant weather events merely a product of climate change, or is something else going on here?

After reading about several of these events, my thoughts were directed to the 7^th chapter of Revelation. In this passage, there are four angels who have apparently been given the authority to harm the earth and the sea. Before they can do their thing, though, another angel comes onto the scene and holds them off: “Do not harm the earth or the sea or the trees, until we have sealed the bond-servants of our God.” He then proceeds to seal 144,000 people – 12,000 from each of the tribes of Israel – for some undisclosed purpose or reason.

But maybe their purpose is hinted at in the following verses. Immediately after these things, John sees “a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb,” worshipping God and giving Him glory. Some have speculated that there exists a connection between the sealed 144,000 bond-servants and the countless multitude. Indeed, perhaps it is these 12,000 from each of the 12 tribes of Israel that go into all the world and bring to fruition the Great Commission to make disciples of every ethnos.

How fitting it would be for the people group into which the Redeemer of mankind was born, and was the first to reject Him, became those primarily effective in pushing the Good News to the ends of the earth. Of course, before they can do this, they must, as the prophet Zechariah foretells, mourn, in the spirit of grace and supplication, for Him whom they pierced, and find cleansing in the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness (Zechariah 12:10,13:1). May this happen in our day.

The Bible has further advice for those facing the uncertainty of climatological distress. “When these things begin to happen,” Luke writes, “straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Let us not be like those who are in dismay, perplexed at the roaring of the sea and waves, or those who are fainting from fear because of their expectations of what might be coming upon the world (Luke 21:25-26,28). Instead let us live in faith for the fulfillment of every step needed to produce that countless multitude, and in glad anticipation of the revelation of Him for whom we have waited.

Look up...and Live

2011-05-13T13:03:00.000-04:00

In the band Coldplay’s signature ballad, “Viva La Vida”, the band’s lead singer, Chris Martin, paints a picture of a ruler that has been deposed by revolutionaries and faces the prospects of an uncertain future. Although he had possessed unparalleled sovereignty – “I used to rule the world / Seas would rise when I gave the word” – he’s now the low man on the totem pole: “Now in the morning I sleep alone / Sweep the streets I used to own.” Apparently, he had angered his subjects somehow: “People couldn’t believe what I’d become / Revolutionaries wait / For my head on a silver plate.” Most disappointing – and alarming, though, are his conclusions regarding his fate in the afterlife: “For some reason I can’t explain / I know Saint Peter won’t call my name.”

Although the song isn’t intended to be autobiographical, Mr. Martin has alluded to having strayed from his Christian upbringing in several interviews. And perhaps unintentionally, he has succeeded in capturing the sentiments of many would-be followers of Jesus. Anyone that has ever tried to share the good news of the gospel with someone has no doubt heard the despairing response: “I’ve done too many wrong things…God wouldn’t want to save a person like me.” Of course, this conclusion is not supported by the Scriptures and we recognize it as evidence of deception. But to the person living in darkness, not having yet seen the great light, the desperation is real.

As gospel priests, though, it is our responsibility – and privilege – to be transmitters of that great light and proclaimers of the good news. That good news begins with the heart of God, opened up for us in Ezekiel 18:32: “For I take no pleasure in the death of anyone…therefore, repent and live.” A story from the annals of Jewish tradition tells of what happened in heaven when the Egyptian army was drowned in the Red Sea at the time of the exodus. The angels and hosts of heaven began to rejoice and celebrate the miraculous victory, but God rebuked them. He said, “My creatures are being destroyed, and you rejoice?” Indeed, “He is not wishing that any should perish,” and that ‘any’ includes everyone from the most upstanding and moral citizen to a terrorist that has taken the lives of thousands of innocent people. Rather, He wishes for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).

The good news goes even further. Not only does God desire that His creatures repent and live, He has provided them with the means to do so. He has made it clear in His Word that whoever will call upon the name of the Lord will be saved. There is no distinction between Jew and Greek, between Christian and Moslem, or between American and Chinese; neither are there exceptions for the most egregious of offenders; the same Lord is Lord of all, abounding in riches for any – any who so choose – who call upon Him. It really is just that simple: if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you shall be saved (Romans 10:9, 12-13).

Would that his truth would see the light of day in all the desperate hearts and dark corners on this planet. Eventually, we know, it will: the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea (Habakkuk 2:14). Let us live in faith for that day, and walk in such a way that we shine the light, and the good news of the gospel, wherever we are.

Sorrow and Love

2011-04-14T22:32:00.000-04:00

In his well known hymn, “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” Isaac Watts makes use of several interesting paradoxes. The first verse speaks of “the wondrous cross.” How can a cross – an implement of tortuous capital punishment – be wonderful? Crosses were designed to be fearsome and terrible, but for the believer, the wonderful nature of the cross lies in that it was the vehicle by which our Savior gave His life for us. Also in the first verse, the author aspires to “pour contempt on all [his] pride.” This interesting turn of phrase includes the thought of holding in low regard the tendency we all have to hold ourselves in higher regard than we ought. The paradox that recently caught my attention the most, however, is in the third verse: “See, from His head, His hands, His feet / Sorrow and love flow mingled down.” What an interesting juxtaposition of emotions – sorrow and love – is found here.

I’m sure that we can look back on our experiences and remember occasions when we’ve felt the conflicting emotions of pain and love at the same time. One such event that stands out in my memory took place a couple of years ago while vacationing with the family in Georgia. I had taken the children to a local playground for the afternoon and the three oldest boys quickly found a large mound of earth they quickly deduced to be a massive fire ant hill. Being that sanctification is a work in progress, they invited their innocent and naïve sister to come over and “kick this dirt hill.” She did, and I’m sure you can imagine what happened next. She was immediately swarmed by hundreds of fire ants who, presumably, were not too pleased about this sudden invasion.

Rachel was not too pleased either, when she found herself covered with hundreds of angry fire ants. She called out to me and when I arrived on the scene, I found her standing in the fire ant bed, paralyzed with fear. I quickly picked her up and placed her in safer territory, and then began the process of removing her socks and shoes and brushing away the fire ants. Miraculously, she wasn’t bitten a single time despite being covered with hundreds of fire ants. Yours truly, however, sustained dozens of bites on his fingers, hands, and arms. Sorrow and Love.

It was love for my daughter that made me glad to unhesitatingly place myself in harm’s way so that she could be rescued. And even though her rescue was successfully secured, it was rather painful for me. This incident, I believe, is a microcosm of the sorrow and love Jesus experienced when He secured our redemption. Obviously, He has so much more love than I and, clearly, His pain was much greater than anything I’ve experienced. But that notwithstanding, it was His love for each of us that made Him glad to endure the death on a cross in order to rescue us.

A fitting response to this expression of love through sorrow is given in the fourth verse of Watts’ hymn: “Love so amazing, so divine / Demands my soul, my life, my all.” I trust that we’ll each find an attitude of gratefulness for Jesus refreshed in our spirits, and a desire to commit all to Him renewed in our lives.

Don't be Fooled

2011-03-31T19:39:00.001-04:00

In perhaps one of the most epic April Fool’s hoaxes of the modern day, thousands of Brits were duped into believing that Swiss farmers were enjoying a bumper spaghetti harvest. During the April 1, 1957 edition of the BBC’s news show Panorama, the revered and trusted anchor, Richard Dimbleby, discussed how the current year’s spaghetti crop was unusually successful due to the mild winter and “the virtual disappearance of the spaghetti weevil.” His comments were accompanied by footage showing a Swiss family harvesting pasta from a spaghetti tree and placing it into baskets. When hundreds of viewers phoned the station to learn how they could grow their own spaghetti tree, the BBC answered, “Place a sprig of spaghetti in a tin of tomato sauce and hope for the best.”

As humorous as this and many other examples of April Fool’s hoaxes can be, certainly no one in their right mind relishes the opportunity to be deceived. Few people wake up in the morning and top their to-do list with the intentional pursuit and belief of that which they know not to be true. Yet deception still happens, and with alarming prevalence. Such is the nature of deceit: that which is false poses as that which is desired to be true. Then the human heart, being deceitful, desperately wicked, and never known for its objectivity, bridges over any gaps in consistency and deception, as we understand it, quietly and often unknowingly takes root.

During my morning prayers recently, I have found myself earnestly seeking for deliverance from deception. I am not thinking of any specific vulnerabilities, but I can relate to what Paul said in 2 Corinthians 11:3: perhaps the serpent, who deceived Eve in his craftiness, could lead some of us astray from that which we’ve come to know as true. Of course, this would be terrible, but to ignore or deny the risk is to put too much faith in our own ability to avoid that which, in our human weakness, we are not always able to identify.

So what are we to do? I believe Paul gives us an indication, by identifying that from which the serpent attempts to leads us astray: the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ. Loving the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength does not need to be all that complicated and neither should it be compromised with pursuits of supposedly equal importance. This “main thing” only becomes complicated when we want it to include something we know it shouldn’t; therein lies the trap door to deception.

Personally, my rule of thumb is to seek alignment with three short phrases taken from the Scriptures. The first two come from Psalm 24:4: Do I have clean hands, and a pure heart? In other words, is my conscience clear, and are my motives unimpeachable? The third is found in 1 Timothy 1:5: Is my faith sincere? Am I believing God, without any allowances for doubt, that He will perform what is best? I believe that our safe harbor from the threats of deception lies in maintaining, by the grace of God, clean hands, a pure heart, and sincere faith. I trust that each of us will find such things to be true in our experience – and therefore, also, the absence of deception – by keeping to such simple, pure devotion to Christ.

The Gospel Priest

2011-03-10T22:27:00.001-05:00

My children know that for work, my job is to “take care of God’s money.” To hear them describe it, this means that I count it, make sure none of it gets lost, and I hand it out when someone needs to buy something. Oh, and I spend a lot of time “checking my e-mail.” After hearing that, who wouldn’t want to be employed in the financial services industry?! Of course, one of my sons would still rather run an ice cream shop. Oh, well. As simple as their understanding of my job description is, though, the recognition of the One who is the owner of the assets I steward is something I take very seriously. Furthermore, the position of acting as an agent for God in this specific way is something I view as a rare and unique privilege.

My respect for the treasury office is borne out of the first few verses of Leviticus 22, where the priestly class is exhorted to approach the gifts of the people with the utmost respect and carefulness. Indeed, the privilege of serving as the contact point between the gifts of the people and the God who receives them, transcending both the natural and the supernatural, is a calling not to be taken lightly. Consider the example of the sons of Eli, members of the priestly class by birth, yet they were men who “despised the offering of Jehovah.” They took advantage of their position, and it ultimately cost them their lives.

Today, the privileges of the priestly office – and the sobering responsibilities attached thereto – are no longer limited to the biological descendents of Levi. Where the priests and Levites were to stand before God on behalf of all their brethren, thus making the sons of Israel a peculiar people amongst those of all the earth, those who today have been purchased unto God with the blood of the Lamb are to stand before the Most High on behalf of the whole world, thus producing an inheritance for our Redeemer that is worthy of His glory. No longer are the priestly functions limited to the house of Aaron, or is the Levitical service restricted to the sons of Levi. Not only are all those who call upon the name of the Lord saved to the uttermost, they are also enjoined to that which is being made unto our God a kingdom and priests. And someday, they will reign upon the earth.

A vital service the priests of the gospel perform today is to merely exist as believers. When the nation of Israel entered the Promised Land – by crossing the Jordan River on dry ground – the priests of Israel executed a vital step in the process by merely standing and ostensibly, believing. God told Joshua that when the priests that bear the ark stand in the river, the water would part and the nation could cross over. Despite the water swirling round their ankles and the questioning looks of bystanders, they stood firm. And because they believed and obeyed, they invited a divine manifestation of the supernatural.

Today, we are exhorted to put on the full armor of God so that we, too, may stand firm. The world around us is full of streams of iniquity and uncleanness, rushing in at us from many directions. But Jesus tells us that rivers of living water flow from the hearts of those that believe in Him. This living water overcomes every worldly obstacle and invites a connection with God that would not otherwise be possible. Be encouraged – despite the streams of filth often swirling round our ankles and the confused looks of the children of the world, our obedience to believe, and stand, has significant ramifications for our world.

There are many other functions of the priests of the gospel, but one other worth noting in this column is the occasional opportunities that arise to join with other gospel priests to believe, worship, or otherwise stand before God. Just as the priests of Israel gathered several times a year for those same purposes, priests of the gospel have similar opportunities. Whether it is meeting with a local congregation on a weekly basis or joining with a larger association of believers several times a year, none of us should forsake the assembling of ourselves together. Just such an opportunity will be available next week at Fairwood to all those who have been so called as we join together to celebrate the Passover and consider the progress of the Christian pilgrim. You don’t want to miss it: it is our responsibility, and our privilege.

The People Doth Protest

2011-02-24T16:53:00.002-05:00

Last December, while reading through a magazine article full of predictions for the coming year, I don’t recall any of the prognosticators foreseeing the political protests and civil unrest that has unfolded across the world these last two months. Of course, no one can anticipate every possible future event, but it seems that many of the persistent demonstrations – and the success of them – have caught some world leaders by surprise. A populist uprising in Tunisia deposed the authoritarian President, Abidine ben Ali, who had ruled for 24 years. In Egypt, protests against President Mubarak’s system of governance eventually resulted in his resignation. Neighbor to Tunisia and Egypt, Libya has descended into civil war, a tragic development of demonstrations against Colonel Gaddafi. Elsewhere in the world, protests – and rumors of protests – are under way in such places as Bahrain, Yemen, Djibouti, Iran, and China. In Wisconsin even, state employees are vehemently protesting proposed changes to their benefits and employment agreements.

It was against this backdrop – this apparent spirit of intransigence sweeping the globe – that I read recently of the events in Numbers 16 commonly called “Korah’s Rebellion.” But before Korah and his fellow protestors enter the scene, there is an intriguing account of a man caught gathering wood on the Sabbath. The man was taken into custody and, after word came down from above, publicly executed. As I read through this account, I found myself coming to the man’s defense: So he was gathering wood. You’re not supposed to work on the Sabbath, but what if he had a good reason? What if his children were cold or he had just received some unexpected guests? I realized however, that although the man’s motives are not disclosed to us, God knew the man’s heart and the complete circumstances of the situation. Furthermore, Sabbath desecration was a capital offense (Ex 31:15), so although the punishment struck me as severe, God’s sense of justice – and love – dictated that it be the necessary outcome.

Perhaps we are given a hint into the man’s motives in the following verses. Immediately after the man’s execution, God instructs Moses to have the people wear tassels on their garments as a reminder of His commandments and that they “not follow after their own heart and their own eyes.” In fact, there are three reasons given: 1) to remember God’s commandments, 2) by remembering, to keep the commandments, and 3) to be holy. Indeed, the temptation to do what is right in our own eyes necessitates frequent reminders of what is right in God’s eyes.

Enter Korah and his comrades. In a scene reminiscent of some large-scale intervention, Korah and 250 national leaders confronted Moses about his perceived abuse of authority. He needn’t exalt himself, they argued, because “all the congregation are holy, every one of them.” Perhaps they thought the wood gathering man’s punishment was unnecessary. Perhaps their pride was wounded by having to wear those silly tassels on the corners of their garments. We don’t really know, except that their grievances mounted, and so they protested.

We all know the end of the story – Korah and his colleagues were consumed by the earth and Moses was vindicated. Their protests were in vain, and the voice of Moses retained as much, if not more, authority than before. May God save us from following in their footsteps and being so distracted by what we perceive to be injustices that we fail to remember God and keep His commandments.

So what should our posture be, in these days of discord and division? Consider the words of Jesus: blessed are the peacemakers. Note that no such blessing is reserved for those who protest, demonstrate, or overthrow governments. Certainly, there is a big difference between standing up for righteousness and mob-driven demonstrations, but personally, I don’t wish to have any part in the spirits of protestation and rebellion causing so many to rise up in various parts of the world. May each of us find the grace to view and respond to the situations we encounter in life from God’s perspective and therein find the means to be peacemakers instead of protesters.

What is Love?

2011-02-10T18:15:00.001-05:00

As those of you who are regular users of the Holiday Countdown iPhone app are no doubt already aware, a major American holiday is rapidly approaching on the calendar. This February 14, countless couples will celebrate Valentine’s Day with flowers, confections, and greeting cards. I, and many others, used to refer to this day as Singles Awareness Day, but for various reasons, I no longer find that necessary. How interesting it is that although nothing is known of the ancient martyrs from whom the holiday received its name, we have come to have a day devoted entirely to the celebration of love and affection. The executives at the Hallmark Corporation must be especially grateful.

“Love” is perhaps the most used, and abused, epithet in the English language. I’m sure we’ve all heard people speak of their undying love for a particular brand of shampoo, the latest technological gadget, or even sports teams. While I usually wouldn’t wish to evaluate the merits of the object of anyone’s affections (Hey, I love salads!), I think we’ll find that a consideration of the nature of true love will reveal a more significant degree of commitment is present.

My working definition of love (modified from Dave Murray) is thus: Love is the commitment of my will, energy, and resources to your needs and best interests, regardless of the cost to me. It means that love does not evaluate the worthiness of its recipients, or attach conditions to its liberality. It means that love is not a feeling, dependent upon transient emotions, but a decision and a conscious act of the will. Upon further examination, I can’t honestly say that I feel this way about a plate of lettuce greens and vegetables. But I can say, by God’s grace, that I have made this commitment to my family and those whom God brings into my experience.

A review of several verses from I Corinthians 13 yields some valuable insights. The most impressive oratory, without love, is mere cacophony. Faith and prophesy are powerless when offered from a loveless heart. Generosity, absent love, results in emptiness. Love is kind and patient, unselfish and longsuffering. Love is always supportive and loyal, hopeful and trusting. Love doesn’t keep score, or rejoice in evil. Love never fails!

As we aspire to emulate such lofty concepts, remember the example of our Divine Redeemer. We were in need – a serious need of existential proportions. Were this need not met, we would be finished. But Jesus saw, and had compassion; He devoted His will and available resources to meeting our need, even though it cost Him everything – His status, His position, and ultimately, His life. That is love, and more than anything else Valentine’s Day might recognize, it’s worth celebrating. May the same Spirit of love that drove our Savior to the cross be in us as we interact with our families, friends, and colleagues, and as we intercede for a world in need of redemption.

Notice

2011-02-10T18:11:00.002-05:00

My church publishes a weekly newsletter, and during the next six months, it will be my turn to write half the articles. So, about every other week, I'll be posting my columns on these pages as well.

Death by Snow, Anyone?

2011-01-08T10:58:00.002-05:00

There is a thin line marking the often blurry demarcation between punishment and entertainment. The ancient Celts had devised a form of tortuous punishment for their worst villains, many of the aspects of which are too gruesome to consider in detail on these pages. Needless to say, it included exposure to the elements, subjugation of the senses to unexpected and unpredictable forces, and, in the worst cases, large amounts of processed cheese. They called this fate worse than death “Snowboarding.”

In these United States, however, snowboarding is often a form of entertainment, even for its participants. The risk of death and serious injury notwithstanding, many Americans seem to thrive on exploring the elements, especially in their extreme form and, as any 6 Flags employee will tell you, subjugating their innards to forces capable of making them outards. There is clearly only one reason for this: the ancient Celts were sissies.

So, in keeping with the highest traditions of American foolhardiness, I recently went with my sister-in-law Jane to see what this “snowboarding” stuff was all about. The location that we chose (since it was chosen for us) was the Cataloochee Ski Resort in the Great Smokey Mountains of North Carolina, which are neither great nor smoky. It is worth noting, however, that the letters of Cataloochee can be rearranged to spell “A Cochlea Toe.” Now, yes, I realize that, in the informed opinions of serious injury experts everywhere, there are better options for risking one’s life. One could, for example, go snowboarding in downtown Miami. But hey, when you live in the land of Sherman’s March to the Sea, one’s options are severely limited.

Neither Jane nor I had been snowboarding before, and upon arriving at the ski resort, we began to suspect that the mountain which rose before us was more than capable of causing death or, worse, serious injury. So, being the rational and sensible Americans that we are, we immediately turned our vehicle around and located a community center where we could enjoy safer forms of entertainment, such as checkers. Ha, ha! Of course not! We mustered, from deep within ourselves that “can-do” spirit Americans have come to be infamous for, and determined that we could risk our lives just as thoroughly as everyone else around us. They of course, were all thinking the same thing, too.

We determined that it might be helpful to take a training class, so that, as beginners, we could educate ourselves as to the most appropriate ways to fall down the mountain. In the snowboarding community, there is no greater faux pas than falling down incorrectly. However, when we found the line to sign up for the training classes, we discovered that the line also included persons wishing to access ticketing, general information, the women’s restroom, and the local department of motor vehicles. I suspect that, if the line had been straightened out, it might have stretched all the way from the Ski Resort to the Atlanta airport. After a few minutes of standing around in the same place, we determined that we would just have to take to the mountain ourselves and figure it out on our own. This, incidentally, is also a trait for which Americans have come to be infamous.

And figure it out, we did, I think. Despite not losing our lives, or even sustaining serious injuries, we did figure out how to fall down the mountain, sometimes at a very high rate of speed. In fact, I would even venture to say that, at times, it was fun. I enjoyed it; I just might consider doing it again sometime. As Uncle Hub astutely pointed out, “You’ve got to die of something.” No offense to my ancient Celt ancestors.

So, if you ever find yourself in Maggie Valley, North Caroline during the winter months (note to this blog’s southern readers: December through March), forget the shuffleboard courts down the street, grab your snowboard, and prepare to risk your life in proper American style.

Part 7: Epilogue

2010-12-09T14:56:00.002-05:00

The illness that was chronicled in the 6-part expose on these pages recently is more or less concluded. I still have a twinge of discomfort from time to time, and I’m not to the point where I’ve started exercising again, but I am free of pain most of the time. I’m supposed to take an anti-inflammatory medication for another month, but it’s a small pill and I forget to take it half the time anyway. Besides, I had my wisdom teeth out two days ago and have other things to think about.

At such a time as this, I find it helpful to pause the normal routine of life for a moment or two and reflect upon the effects (and maybe even benefits) of having been ill. Several effects come quickly to mind, such as gaining 15 pounds, feeling cold all the time, and not having sustained any minor injuries from rough-housing with my children. These are not the ones I’m thinking of though, so I’m going to gloss over them rather quickly. Pause here for glossing. There, that was quick, wasn’t it?

Somewhere around Day 30, someone asked me what they admitted was a stupid question. I mean, he prefaced it as a stupid question, but then proceeded to ask it anyway. This makes me wonder sometimes, though, if, as the saying goes, there are no stupid questions, what sort of questions do stupid people ask? But you needn’t be bothered by the sort of things that keep me awake at night. The actual stupid question was whether I would rather have been healthy and thereby able to execute my responsibilities during the recent weeks, or been ill according to the status quo. Of course, according to the (not really) stupid person’s calculus, any rational, sane person would have chosen to be healthy. But I wasn’t so sure.

I wasn’t so sure then, but I’m positive now. I would much rather have been ill. Had I been healthy and ostensibly executing my responsibilities (they just won’t die!), I would theoretically have missed out on several specific benefits which might not have accrued to me otherwise. In other words, the benefits outweighed the costs. It was worth it. I’d do it again.

Somewhere around Day 17, a friend of mine suggested I read The Practice of the Presence of God, a short book by Brother Lawrence. The essence of the book can be summarized by this quote: “The Time of business, said he, does not with me differ from the time of prayer; and in the noise and clutter of my kitchen (he was a cook) while several persons are calling at the same time for different things, I possess God in as great a tranquility as if I were upon my knees at the Blessed Sacrament.” These were thoughts I had heard before, but this time, these sentiments became a point of demarcation in the illness. No longer was this just some strange illness to endure, or a quirky pain in my chest to annoy me. God had something bigger in mind.

That something bigger was the simple concept of being closer to Him, something I never would have had time for had I been busy scurrying around executing those pesky responsibilities. But He wanted me closer and was willing to strike down my health to get me there. It was a small price to pay for a blessing, the value of which cannot be overstated. The possession of God and more specifically, His presence, despite our physical presence on the heights of the earth or the valley of the shadow of death, is an asset more valuable than anything or anyone else.

The apostle Paul expresses the same sentiments when he writes of “momentary, light afflictions.” That was his description of being beaten, shipwrecked, stoned, and other such encounters most of us would rather avoid. These afflictions, he says, are producing a weight of glory beyond anything else we could imagine. If we really comprehended the beauty of the glory, would we be so quick to avoid the momentary, light afflictions? Not I, for my brief illness has afforded a glimpse into one small aspect of that glory – the beauty of His presence. It should not be so easily traded away for comfort, painlessness, or whatever other accouterments of life we perceive the need for.

This doesn’t mean that the road ahead is nothing but smooth sailing. The long-term diagnosis for ensuring the pericarditis doesn’t return is well nigh unto impossible. It’s not something I can do, yet is something I’m still somehow responsible for. I wonder if the apostle Paul felt the same way, when he sought God for relief from his own impossible situation. But God told him, “My grace is sufficient for you and, furthermore, My power is most effective when you are weak.” Hey, these are encouraging words. I’m okay with being weak, because I’m not the end of the story. Let me see His grace and let us all see His power, and that will be enough for me.

Grill it like Teppanyaki

2010-11-14T16:30:00.005-05:00

Recently, I partook in the time-honored American tradition of eating foreign foods. Eating ethnic food, as they call it, has been popular in these United States ever since the Pilgrims arrived at Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts many hundreds of years ago. After unexpectedly arriving at a rocky New England coastline (due to GPS error) and finding the natives (Indians, as they called them) chewing on corn husks and fish heads, our brave Founding Fathers determined that the first order of business, after signing the Mayflower Compact, would be to find out if the local Taco Bell would deliver.

And so, in a brave attempt to follow in those estimable footsteps, I went with my friend Nate to a Japanese steakhouse called Yuki’s. It is worth noting, for the benefit of those generations that will follow in our meager footsteps, that the name of the aforementioned restaurant does not rhyme with ducky. At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it; we did not actually confirm that with the management. It is also worth noting that Yuki’s restaurant contains a section entirely devoted to the time-honored Japanese tradition, since the 1940's and really only in America, of teppanyaki.

Nate and I were led to a large back room, which looked like it could pass for a surgical laboratory in medical school. There were large beds, which actually turned out to be grills, surrounded by lights and chairs. The kind hostess directed us to two chairs in the back and then invited two other families to sit with us. We did not know these people, although we could deduce, simply by their very presence at this restaurant, that they were also true patriots, bravely attempting to follow in the estimable footsteps of our Founding Fathers.

After a few minutes of checking our blood pressure and other vitals, the kind hostess brought us water, which is not technically a foreign food, per se, and soup, which consisted primarily of water. It also contained the unidentifiable remains of some unfortunate creature, or plant – I could not really tell which, but was surprised to find it to be the best tasting water soup I’ve ever had. Our kind hostess also brought us an appetizer, which quite ironically, was the same one Nate and I had selected a few minutes before: salmon asparagus rolls. In preparation for this particular dish, salmon are fed a steady diet of nothing but asparagus and Sauvignon Blanc, then harvested and rolled into a ball. I found them to be, in a word, interesting, although they did go well with the teppan sauce, a traditional Japanese sauce made out of leftover grills.

I took a few minutes to examine the menu and, as is the case with most foreign food restaurants, found it to be entirely unhelpful. There were a few pictures, but they were accompanied by words in Japanese script that may or may not have had any English influence along the way. As a side note, this is why I never go to Welsh restaurants. For one thing, the menu is hundreds of pages long: the Welsh word for fish is “Llanfairpwllgwyngllgogerychwyrndrobwlllantysiliogogogochggorsafwddachaidraigodanheddogle-ddollonpenrhynareurdraethceredigion.” So anyway, I simply told the kind hostess I would have the chicken, hoping against hope that it would not be served if the form of the chicken noodle soup I’d heard of from the Orient. In Taiwan, the recipe for chicken noodle soup is very simple: Open pot, insert chicken, noodles, and water. Some versions allow for killing the chicken first.

Then the fun began. The grill master came out with a cart of food, spices, sauces, and grilling implements. The first thing he did was to set the entire grill on fire in a massive fireball which resulted in the loss of two of my eyebrows. Then he covered the entire grill in a blanket of rice and various meats and spent the next few minutes moving it around (the rice), flipping it (the meat), and tossing it (the grilling implements) into the air. He also spent a great deal of time tapping his grilling implements against the grill surface. And when I say “tapping,” I mean hitting in such a loud fashion as to make conversation impossible. It was a fascinating experience. When the food was ready, he deftly scooped it up with his grilling implements and placed it directly on our plates.

When the time came to eat, I discovered why there are no obese Japanese people: chopsticks. In Japan, silverware has not been invented yet, so food must be transferred from the plate to the mouth by means of two clumsy sticks, which are often held in the same hand. In India, a nation also yet to discover the most basic eating implements, they simply use their hands, but the Japanese are more dignified than that. Anyway, the two-stick method does not lend itself to rapid food consumption and, in many cases, causes would-be consumers of food to simply give up in desperation, or boredom, and pursue other interests.

Fortunately, Yuki’s provides forks for their customers, thereby dramatically reducing the amount of time each visitor must spend in the restaurant. I found the food to be delicious, although not really all that different than the Japanese stir-fry and rice that this blog’s wife will sometimes prepare at home. Though, I must say, I have often suspected my wife of being a secret Japanese agent (as Bill Cosby says, of his wife, “...she took a yardstick, and held it like a samurai warrior…”), so maybe there is a reason for this similarity in food quality. If you’re ever in the area though, forget the cow loving chicken restaurant next door and give Yuki’s a try. Your eyebrows will never be the same.

Part 6: Great Scott!

2010-10-27T14:44:00.003-04:00

After about a week of somewhat unsteady lack of improvement, this blog’s wife had a suggestion. This is why she is kept around, you know, for her worthwhile suggestions: “No, I would suggest not playing hopscotch on the roof, dear.” Or, “Yes, honey, I would suggest you stop antagonizing that large man with a barbecue fork hiding in the closet.” This time, her suggestion involved me branching out to a section of the Medical Care Establishment somewhat, as they say, off the beaten path. “You should go see my chiropractor.”

Chiropractors are, to put it politely, the laughingstock of the Medical Care Establishment. It is their premise that, by simply “adjusting” the location of various vertebrae, a whole host of ailments can be corrected including, but not limited to, headaches, colds, influenza, indigestion, Marburg hemorrhagic fever, and low gas mileage. Indeed, there is no condition to which the human race suffers that a simple, chiropractic manipulation cannot solve. Or so they say. In fact, some extreme members of the chiropractic community believe that even Jesus Himself was initially a chiropractor before He changed careers and pursued other interests.

The selection of the right chiropractor is also a sensitive matter, since it is tantamount to the establishment of a life-long relationship, not unlike a marriage. There is a joke which illustrates this concept very helpfully: How many chiropractors does it take to screw in a light bulb? Only one, but it will take him seven visits to do it. So this decision is not to be taken lightly, or made after one has consumed large amounts of expensive medications.

But this blog’s wife’s chiropractor comes highly recommended, as you would expect, and specializes in pediatric and pregnancy-related chiropractic care. So she seemed like a perfectly natural and obvious choice to me. I went to see her on Day 31, and although the historical record will likely decide that it was the right move, it is interesting to note that when I first arrived and was greeted by the sight of several small children running around and the sound of an infant screaming, I began to wonder.

I lay on the chiropractor’s bench, and she began poking and prodding, frowning, and occasionally asking me questions: Does this hurt? Can you lift your leg? What is the capital of Nebraska? Soon, however, she found something which caused her to exclaim and, no doubt, entertain visions of extended vacations to the Caymans. Apparently, one or more of my ribs were severely misaligned, and my sternum was torqued in and to the left. This was not normal, she noted, and indicated that it would require weekly visits until I either died or started collecting Social Security to fix it.

Starting on Day 32, and continuing to the present day, I have perceived something more or less absent from the first month: improvement. Although I haven’t usually been able to discern a difference from one day to the next, I am feeling much better. One doctor told me that improvement from this particular illness should be measured in increments of weeks, rather than days. It seems he was right. Oh, goody. Presently, on Day 58, I find myself back to about 80-85% of my “normal” capacity, and looking forward to the day when I’ll be able to run, jump, bike, swim, and double-flip back handspring. Hey, I’ve never been able to do one of those.

So what was the final, official diagnosis, you ask? In piecing together the professional opinions of cardiologists, emergency department personnel, and yes, even chiropractors, it appears as though on the morning of August 31, I over-extended myself, causing one or more ribs to become misaligned. Over a short amount of time, this caused my sternum to torque in direction God had not had in mind at Creation. Over time, this misalignment of the rib cage either caused or exacerbated an inflammation in my ribs, lungs, or heart, or some combination of the above. At the moment, the inflammation appears to be mostly calmed, and my bones appear to be mostly in their correct places. Thank God.

There you have it. The Medical Care Establishment, at its finest.

Part 5: Not Funny, Bob

2010-10-16T16:50:00.002-04:00

Although this blog is somewhat hesitant to admit it, we will tentatively concede that the culinary offerings of the local Medical Care Establishment which we found before us for lunch on Day 19 were actually quite delicious. And when we say delicious, it is also worth noting that we had not eaten for 18 hours and, at that point, according to food scientists around the globe, even a bowl of overcooked mushrooms will taste like filet mignon. This is why many of your finer restaurants will have you sit at your table with nothing but a glass of water and a bottle of ketchup for several hours on end before even starting to prepare your meal. They know the customer is not in a position to truly enjoy their offerings until the second or third furtive glance at the condiment dispenser.

After I finished my entire meal, including the contents of the ketchup bottle, the very helpful emergency department personnel returned to my cell to give me an update on my condition. Apparently, in the calculus of diagnosing causes of chest pain, the Medical Care Establishment first attempts to identify problems that, if left untreated, will kill the patient. If death is not imminent, they will dismiss the patient and keep their collective fingers crossed behind their respective backs. Then, if the patient does not improve and, in fact, is so ornery as to return to the emergency department, the proverbial book is thrown at them. This was the case with me, and explains why I was subjected to further testing, which included rechecking for those things which could cause immediate and sudden death, and also checking for things which could cause problems later on, when you least expect it.

Finding no problems, though, presents another problem. I mean, you have to diagnose the patient with something, especially when aforesaid patient is a healthy 32-year old young man who eats healthily and exercises regularly but who suddenly can’t go up the stairs without becoming short of breath and is kept awake at night with intense chest pain in his chest areas. So, in these situations, there is a secret list of diagnoses, usually kept in a safe in an undisclosed location in the medical care facility, which are then pulled out and, were it not for my tremendous respect for the many qualified members of the Medical Care Establishment, I would say that one is selected at random. As it is, though, they use a strict, rigorous process not unlike the popular pub game involving darts.

So, my official diagnosis is pericarditis, which is an inflammation of the pericardium, the lining of the heart. The very helpful medical care personnel allowed that it could be pleuritis, which is an inflammation of the pleura, the lining of the lungs, or costochondritis, which is an inflammation of the costal cartilage in between the ribs and sternum. Fortunately, and this is the clearest evidence to date that someone in the secret diagnoses department was thinking clearly, the treatment for each of the above –itisis is the same: you take the maximum amount of ibuprofen allowed by the FDA, or more if they’re not looking, and you don’t do anything that makes your pain worse such as activities including, but not limited to, sitting, standing, walking, running, laying down, eating, fasting, talking, or thinking. Oh, and you don’t think or talk about or do anything stressful. Ha, ha! I promise I am not making this up.

I went back home the afternoon of Day 19, after 25 hours in the emergency department of the local Medical Care Establishment facility, secure in the knowledge that the expert medical personnel, using every test and piece of knowledge at their disposal, could find nothing wrong with me. But at least I had a diagnosis and a prescription. I could go home, take it easy, take the drugs, and get better. And for a week it worked; I horked down enough ibuprofen to have caused a significant number of laboratory experiments involving rats, and I tried not to do or think anything that made my pain worse. After carefully adhering to this regimen for seven days, I could confidently report, with a tremendous amount of secure optimism, that I felt no different than before. Perhaps even a little worse.

Part 4: "Move, Sloth!"

2010-10-11T15:29:00.003-04:00

Early the following morning, on Day 18, I was scheduled to partake in the time-honored Medical Care Establishment tradition referred to colloquially as a cardiac stress test. This is a procedure that involves being injected with a nuclear radiotracer and walking, or running, on a treadmill until either your target heart rate is achieved or you experience a heart attack or some other potentially fatal complication. I swear I am not making this up.

Of course, the preparation for my stress test began much earlier, at about 6pm the previous evening. It was at about that time that I swallowed the last morsel of my “dinner;” a few hours later, I was told that I couldn’t eat or drink anything until after the stress test. So there were no late-night snacks, no glass of water right before bed, and no wandering down to the refrigerator in the nurses’ station in the middle of the night and drinking straight from the orange juice container. It was a harrowing experience. Then, in the morning, the nurse returned and reminded me, with a smile on her face, that I couldn’t have anything to eat or drink until after the stress test. I mentioned that I was really thirsty and could I maybe, please, just have a small sip of water if I get it myself. She said she would go ask the doctor, but she hasn’t come back yet, even to this day, so I’m guessing not.

At about 8:30, or maybe at some other time – it was all an ethereal blur, the Transportation Department (motto: We built the hospital like a labyrinth on purpose.) came to transport me via wheel chair to the secret cardiac stress test location, buried deep within the bowels of the local Medical Care Establishment facility. The first step in this process was to have a very thorough and detailed picture taken of my heart. This involved laying on a bed that was about as comfortable as slab of concrete, only not as warm, and holding my arms above my head in a very casual, yet uncomfortable fashion. Then a mammoth “camera” swooped down and very nearly swallowed me whole. This took about 15 minutes.

After the camera finished digesting my heart, and it was my turn for the stressful part of the test, I was removed to an ante room for further preparation. At this point, the friendly personnel, with smiles on their faces, removed all of the EKG sticky pads and put on new sticky pads for a slightly different device called an ECG. ECG is a slightly different Latin phrase than EKG, but it means about the same thing. As alert readers of this blog will recall, an EKG is a device which medical care personnel attach to people to see if they have a high tolerance for hair removal pain. Under the right conditions, the ECG will also check to see if one’s heart is malfunctioning, although in a different way than the EKG. Then I was connected to all manner of wires and probes, including a large, thick one that made me think of umbilical cords. Finally, I was led to the chamber.

Inside the chamber were three doctors, and when I say three doctors, I really mean two doctors and one nurse. The nurse, of course, was smiling, and looked like she just desperately wanted to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies for me, if she could just find the time in between measuring my blood pressure. One of the doctors looked like he could be my little brother, and was just as nervous as I should have been, had I not been severely drugged. The other doctor was the one who was clearly in charge, and obviously had been since the Dark Ages. She was clearly a secret agent of the KGB, for she spoke with a foreign accent and had one of those Russian names that have about nine syllables, one vowel, and is pronounced, “Smith.”

Anyway, KGB doctor led me onto this platform, connected all of my wires and umbilical cords to her computer, and then pressed a large red button that was nearby. At about the same time, and quite coincidentally, I might add, the ground beneath me began to move and I was forced to walk in order to remain upright. It was then I perceived that I was on a treadmill. The KGB doctor explained that she was going to attempt to raise my heart rate to something like 169 beats per minute. “Or kill me,” I’m pretty sure she said, under her breath.

After several minutes of strolling on the treadmill and my heart rate not getting anywhere near the target, the KGB doctor exclaimed, “We just might be here all day!” Then she rubbed her hands together, laughed in a manner not unlike that undoubtedly demonstrated by Josef Stalin when he took over Eastern Europe, and pressed another large red button which was also nearby. At about that time, and quite coincidentally, I might add, I found the ground beneath me moving at A Very High Rate of Speed. And it became quite steep. For those readers of this blog familiar with my brother-in-law and my driveway (which are two things I’m not always able to use in the same sentence), imagine doing the Jeff Turner Death March up my driveway, for about five minutes.

Sidebar: it was at this point in the stress test that I thought of those words which are also the title of this post. It was originally a quote from the movie Ice Age, but is now a quote from my son. James, when once attempting to race upstairs to answer a call of nature, found his brother plodding up the stairs very slowly. After waiting patiently for several moments, he yelled these words. It was just about the funniest thing ever, though I dared not laugh in the presence of the KGB doctor.

Well, after five minutes of the driveway death march, I reached my target heart rate and the nervous doctor reached for my IV Harpoon of Death and injected a nuclear radiotracer. This was so they could get an effective “After” picture of my heart that they could compare with the one before. At this point, the KGB doctor mercifully stopped the treadmill and I collapsed in heap and very nearly passed out. Then they laid me on the concrete slab and took pictures of my heart again with the mammoth camera. After all this excitement, I was led back to my cell where I found a curiously delicious lunch waiting for me.

Oh, the stress test showed everything to be normal. No problems there. “He sure is an ornery one,” the doctors all thought, in unison.