Suggestions for ‘My Brother’s Keeper’

Recently President Obama announced his “My Brother’s Keeper” initiative, aimed at helping young minority men – particularly African-Americans and Hispanics – overcome formidable challenges. He’s recruiting a number of prominent minority leaders to become part of this effort.

I commend this emphasis since the President, our first non-white Chief Executive, has much to offer, not only from the clout of his office but also from personal experience. In announcing his plans, Obama stated, “By almost any measure, the group that is facing some of the most severe challenges in the 21^st century, in this country, are boys and young men of color.”

Statistics would bear this out. On average, black and Hispanic boys trail young white boys markedly in reading skills by the time they reach the fourth grade. Each year, young blacks and Hispanics comprise approximately half of the nation’s murder victims. And collectively, blacks and Hispanics make up nearly 60 percent of the U.S. prison rolls, while their ethnic groups total only one-quarter of the general population.

My Brother’s Keeper sounds like a long-overdue idea. I’m wondering, however, what message the President and others plan to use for motivating these boys and young men to achieve better lives. I’m privileged to have several African-American men as friends, so I have some understanding of the challenges they’ve faced and overcome.

The President hasn’t asked me, but I have a few ideas for him and the My Brother’s Keeper Task Force to offer the young men:

·       Learn to read, and read to learn. Whether reading books, magazines, newspapers, or content on the Internet, there’s a limitless wealth of information and knowledge readily available to help in pursuing one’s dreams and aspirations.

·       Take responsibility for your actions. If you’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people, don’t expect anything good to happen. Life is a series of choices, and if you make the right choices, good things will follow. “He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm” (Proverbs 13:20).

·       Don’t be a victim. Over the past few decades, someone decided it’s a good idea to blame failures on somebody else, rather than mustering the initiative to use failure as a teaching tool for learning how to succeed. I know many people who refused to be victims, regardless of their circumstances, and as a result have achieved much success.

·       Young women are not sex toys. Too often young men of any ethnicity treat sex as mere recreation, failing to respect the young women they are with and value them as real people with real needs and real feelings. When the Bible talks about women being “the weaker vessel,” (1 Peter 3:7), it’s not a put-down. It’s no more demeaning than saying exquisite crystal or fine china is weaker than an iron skillet or sledgehammer.

·       If you have sex and father a child, be a father to that child. Statistics tell us about three-fourths of black children are growing up in single-parent, female-led homes. Women are doing incredible jobs in trying to care for and nurture their children, but as in any endeavor, the job is much easier when there are two to share in the duties and responsibilities. As the Bible says, “Two are better than one, they have a good return for their labor” (Ecclesiastes 4:9). When God said in Genesis 2:18, “It is not good for the man to be alone,” I’m certain He was thinking the same about women.

·       Don’t expect the world to do for you what you can – and should – do for yourself. An entitlement mentality has invaded our times, people looking to government and society to provide for their needs and wants. And then they become angry because their expectations aren’t met. Why wait for someone to do what’s in your capacity to do on your own? “The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty” (Proverbs 21:5).

·       The path to success doesn’t pass only through pro sports and recording studios. Only an infinitesimal percentage of minority young men will even get a taste of the NFL, NBA, Major League baseball or entertainment world. Yet those that attain those levels often are built up as role models. Why not spotlight accomplished minority men in far more accessible professions – physicians and nurses, attorneys, entrepreneurs, business executives, retail managers, educators, tradesmen, engineers, scientists, and others? Dr. Ben Carson, who overcame extreme poverty to become a renowned neurosurgeon, is one glowing example. But of course, he’s politically conservative, so I suppose that would disqualify him from President Obama’s consideration.

We all have a unique purpose and design, given by God, and we each should pursue it. “For you created my inmost being…. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13-14). I hope the President’s initiative can be a big step in pointing deserving young men toward discovering how they can achieve fulfilling, meaningful lives and careers – what God has intended for them all along.

I’m certain we could think of some other suggestions as well, but these would be a good start. Yes, many of them have a biblical basis – but that shouldn’t justify dismissing them. After all, “my brother’s keeper” comes from the Bible, too (Genesis 4:9).

Strength Through Weakness

The life of faith – biblical faith – requires living with paradox: Finding strength through weakness. Receiving through giving. Living by dying. Seeing by believing.

Over the next weeks I’ll address each of these seeming contradictions separately. Today, the conundrum of becoming strong by being weak.

In our society – and the world – strength is glorified and weakness is anathema. (I like that word – anathema. It sounds strong. In case you’re wondering, it means, “vehemently disliked.” Thus endeth the vocabulary lesson.) Choosing weakness over strength is counter-cultural, almost anti-American. Strong is cool; weak is wimpy.

We don’t encounter the phrase much anymore, but people used to talk about “pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps.” If you’re a cowboy that might still make sense, but “pull yourself up by your own loafers (or sandals)” doesn’t have the same impact. Recently someone told me, “I’m not sure where, but doesn’t the Bible say, ‘God helps those that help themselves’?” Uh, no, the Bible doesn’t say that. But it’s a philosophy many of us follow.

This ad from decades past, courtesy of the U.S.
All-Round Weightlifting Association,
reflects our disdain for weakness. 

Angelo Siciliano, aka Charles Atlas, capitalized on America’s infatuation with strength. Nicknamed “the 97-pound weakling,” he overcame a frail childhood to become a champion bodybuilder in the early to mid-1900s. Magazine and comic book ads depicted him as a skinny guy having sand kicked in his face by some bully, then returning the favor after becoming a muscle-bound powerhouse.

Strength conquers all was his message, and it appealed to many people. Our nation has maintained that mantra in war and in peacetime.

So it’s paradoxical to read Bible passages that stress the virtues of weakness. “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth…. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:28-31).

Then in the New Testament, the apostle Paul carries on the same theme: “But he (God) said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

Talk about a paradigm shift! We occasionally pray for God’s help, but the Bible asserts things are best when we’re helpless. That doesn’t sound logical.

I’ve pondered this a lot, even in my own life. Strangely enough, it’s true. Times I’ve felt closest to God were when I found myself at the end of my rope, all my resources exhausted, and not knowing what to do. Depleted of my own strength, I had no choice but to turn to God to take charge. Whenever I’ve done that, He always seemed to be saying, “Good. I’ve been waiting. All you had to do was ask.”

Recent decades have seen our nation adopt a secularized, who-needs-God type of mindset. And that’s understandable. When it seems we have things under control, we don’t feel much need for God. “I’ve got this” is our attitude.

Since World War II, people in the United States have prospered materially unlike any other nation in history. Private home ownership became normative. Multi-car families also became common. Today many of us have more than one of most things, from TVs to bathrooms. Even the poor in our country would rank among the wealthiest in many Third World nations.

So when you have everything you need, who needs God, right? Self-sufficiency, not deity, sits on the altar of worship.

Perhaps that’s why weakness, not strength, fosters spiritual growth. Powerlessness makes us more receptive to the all-powerful God.

Reading through the Scriptures, we see this pattern repeatedly. Noah and his family escaping the flood only through the ark God appointed him to build. Job suffering various afflictions. Abraham and Sarah, aging and without hope of having children together. Joseph in prison through no fault of his own. Moses and the Israelites pressed between a sea and some angry Egyptians. David, the victim of his own sexual sin and murderous cover-up. Impulsive Peter, caught up in his own cowardice.

And then there’s Paul, whose unidentified “thorn in the flesh” kept him humble. At the end of his life he didn’t boast about great success, but rather of having persevered through hardship. “For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:6-7).

Oswald Chambers, in My Utmost for His Highest, notes, “The things we try to avoid and fight against – tribulation, sufferings, and persecution – are the very things that produce abundant joy in us…. A saint doesn’t know the joy of the Lord in spite of tribulation, but because of it.”

When we are forced to acknowledge our complete inadequacy, that our best efforts are wholly insufficient, only then can we discover God’s grace truly is sufficient.

Gluttony, the ‘OK’ Sin?

This photo, taken in Budapest, Hungary some years ago,
shows the problem of gluttony and overeating is universal.

Several weeks ago I I heard a sermon on the sin of gluttony for the first time. Over the years I’ve heard preachers speak on a multitude of transgressions, ranging from drunkenness to dishonesty to various forms of sexual misconduct. But I’d never heard anyone address the topic of gluttony, which is defined as “overindulgence and over-consumption of food and drink.”

It wasn’t served up as an entire sermon, mind you. But the pastor devoted a sizable portion of his message to this huge subject. He provided a lot of food for thought, a real smorgasbord of insight on the weighty issue of overeating. No question it was a hefty topic to handle, but he presented it in a very palatable manner. For some of us, the discussion left us hungering for more.

I’m sure that for others, however, gluttony wasn’t the most appetizing item on the sermon menu. “Hey, pastor, you done stopped preachin’ and started meddlin’!”

Why, I wondered, is gluttony so rarely discussed in a setting where other sins are so deftly lambasted? Maybe it’s because gluttony is such a pervasive, seemingly universal problem. In the United States, one in every three persons is obese – at least 35 pounds over a healthy weight – and the vast majority of people weigh significantly more than they should.

And it’s always easier to criticize sins we can’t identify with, such as abuse of alcohol if we’re non-drinkers, or greed among the rich if we’re among the many that can barely pay their bills from one month to the next. But overeating and unhealthy eating? Hey, doesn’t everyone do that? Even many among the poor in our nation wrestle with weight problems.

I’ve often chuckled when traveling evangelists would come into town. On average I’d guess they weight upwards of 300 pounds. There might be power in the blood of Jesus Christ, but apparently not enough to push away from the dinner table – or to find somewhere to exercise regularly.

Perhaps it’s a misunderstanding of Jesus’ statement in the Sermon on the Mount when He declared, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled” (Matthew 5:6, King James Version.) Because it seems right after Sunday services almost everybody’s racing to the nearest restaurant to chow down.

Or maybe 1 Corinthians 9:27 is to blame, where the apostle Paul stated, “I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage." (Unfortunately, his word “buffet” is pronounced “buff-it,” not “buff-ay.”)

One other “biblical” justification for gluttony might be 1 Corinthians 6:19, where Paul told believers in ancient Corinth, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit?” Yes, the apostle said that, but he wasn’t giving a directive to build bigger temples.

As someone has said, “If sin wasn’t any fun, we wouldn’t want to do it.” I can honestly say I’m never tempted to overindulge on liver, or Brussels sprouts, or turnip greens. Because I don’t like them, and they’re no fun for me to eat. But potato salad, coconut cream pie, grilled sausage or French fries, that’s different.

So, since virtually all of us struggle with this overwhelming sin of gluttony – and too often we lose the battle – let’s just ignore it and focus on more manageable sins, especially those we don’t practice, right?

Only one problem: In the latter portion of 1 Corinthians 6:19, Paul makes a troubling observation stripping away our excuse. He wrote, “your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God…. You are not your own….”

There we have it. We are not our own. We’re only stewards of what we have, including our bodies, so we don’t have authority to use and abuse our bodies as we choose. And since, as followers of Jesus, we do have the Spirit of God living in us, we do have the power to overcome this fascination with food.

In 1 Corinthians 10:31 we’re told, “whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all to the glory of God.” So the next time you pile on that third helping, or cut that second piece of gooey cake, or decide on potato chips and pop as a chaser for your pizza, just advise the Lord, “I’m doing this for Your glory.” And listen carefully to hear how He responds.

Living Life in Fast-Forward

Technology has provided us with countless wonderful advancements. Seems to me among the best is being able to record TV programs for viewing at a later time.

Some of our favorite TV shows start at 10 p.m., meaning we’d have to stay up until 11 (the curse of living in the Eastern time zone) and then get up at oh-dark-thirty for work. So it’s nice to record them instead, for watching the next day or whenever it fits our schedule.

Not only that, but we also can fast-forward through annoying commercials and promos for shows we have no interest in watching. Since a new trend these days seems to be repeating the same commercials multiple times during a single program, it’s even better not having to watch them over and over.

What if you could fast-forward through
the undesirable times in life?

For sports like football and basketball, you can speed through the pre-game commentary and mindless in-game chatter, saving an hour or more of viewing time that you can devote to other things. If you’re a NASCAR fan, you can record and speed-view the entire race in about five minutes, since all that matters are the crashes and the final lap anyway.

Yes, the fast-forward button for TV is great. Don’t you sometimes wish there were a fast-forward button for life?

You’re sitting in a mind-numbing meeting at work, listening to someone drone on about something you have no interest in. What if you could hit the fast-forward button until you found a moment in the meeting that was worth paying attention to?

Or it’s Monday, and you can’t wait until Friday afternoon when you’ll be leaving your desk and heading out on vacation, far from deadlines and your boss’s hovering presence. Just hit “fast-forward” and it’s Friday, you’re already in the elevator and bound for your car to drive home. Sound like a good idea?

Maybe you’re stuck in the waiting room at the doctor’s office, the minutes are moving along at snail’s pace, and you’d like to be anywhere but there. How about hitting the “pause” button, going out and doing something productive, and returning an hour or so later, fast-forwarding to the moment when the nurse calls your name?

Yes, that fast-forward option could be useful, but in so many respects our lives already are moving too fast. When you’re raising children time seems to move so slowly – until you wake up one morning and they’re practically grown. Whether it’s kids or grandkids, there’s a lot to be said for cherishing every moment. Too soon they’re taking that first driver’s test, attending college, getting jobs of their own, marrying and doing all kinds of other adult stuff.

We wait with eager anticipation for the arrival of special days – holidays, birthdays, visits from beloved family members and friends, concerts. Then before our eyes can blink twice, those events have already passed, morphing into memories. Instead of fast-forwarding, it would be better to press the “stop action” button and savor those moments more fully.

As the psalmist wrote, “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24). We spend so much time fretting about tomorrow or next week, next month or next year, we often fail to appreciate the day we have. As someone has said, “Today’s a gift – that’s why it’s called the present.”

I chuckle at how future-focused we can be. On National Signing Day, when college football fans wring their hands over which blue-chip players will commit to their favorite team, the fax machines have barely stopped when those same fans start debating who will sign with their team next year.

The Presidential election is held and the people’s choice has barely finished the acceptance speech when pundits already start commiserating over who will be the candidate for the losing party next time around.

Ephesians 5:16 advises we should be “(redeeming) making the best use of your time because the times are evil.” This doesn’t mean time itself is inherently bad, but it passes quickly. We can put it to good use; we can engage in unwholesome activities; or we can simply squander it through carelessness or indifference. In any case, each minute ticking away can’t be reclaimed.

Unlike your DVR player, life doesn’t have a pause or rewind button. So rather than wishing to fast-forward through life’s mundane, unspectacular moments, we should value each one. Who knows? In the midst of the monotony, perhaps something really special will happen, surprising the heck out of us. You wouldn’t want to miss it, would you?

The Faith of a Child – for Adults

As the official start of spring approaches, here’s a warm-weather image – especially for those of you who have endured much of the winter up to your eyeballs in snow and ice.

Picture a small boy or girl, not more than two years old, standing at the edge of a sun-drenched community pool. Daddy’s in the pool with arms extended, encouraging tiny Jimmy or Jill to dive in, promising to catch the little leaper. A bit wary, the child finally casts caution aside and makes the jump toward the inviting water. As promised, Daddy grabs mini-person and holds on securely.

Why does the child do it? Jumping into water over your head is dangerous when you can’t swim. What if the child slips through the father’s grasp and goes underwater? Or what if Daddy decides not to catch the little one? There’s just one reason the child does it: Childlike faith.

Little Jimmy or Jill might not jump into the arms of a complete stranger. Hopefully they won’t. But they know Daddy. A relationship has been established, built on love and trust. If Daddy asks them to jump, there’s no reason for fear. And they don’t have to stop and calculate the various risks – all they know is Daddy is totally reliable. He keeps his promises. There’s nothing to worry about. So they jump. And most likely, throughout the summer they will jump again, again and again.

On numerous occasions, Jesus talked about the faith of a child. He told His followers, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it” (Luke 18:16-17).

Another time Jesus used a child for show-and-tell: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:2-4).

Like a little girl hurling herself off the edge of a pool into a parent’s waiting arms, without gathering statistical evidence to confirm the likelihood of mom or dad successfully catching her, God calls us to exercise similar faith in committing to Him.

That doesn’t mean throwing all reason aside. Faith in Jesus Christ doesn’t require mindless, unquestioning commitment. God isn’t intimidated by our doubts and questions. They’re actually helpful in the process of spiritual growth.

At the same time, faith involves a willingness to proceed in trust when we being asked to venture into the unknown. Just as jumping into a pool amounts to a literal leap of faith for a toddler, many times God asks His spiritual children to take leaps of faith.

The first “leap” is receiving the gift of salvation Christ offers, accepting His death on the cross as the only possible atonement for the forgiveness of our sins. But that’s just one of many occasions when, like the trusting child, we must proceed even when the way seems unclear or uncertain.

That’s been the case several times in my career, changing jobs and moving my family as God directed. Sometimes He calls us to perform acts of charitable generosity that don’t make sense from a financial standpoint. “Put the calculator away,” God says. “Just do what I ask – and trust Me to more than make up the difference.”

There are countless other ways our heavenly Father asks us to follow Him with childlike faith, when “common sense” urges us otherwise. That’s why Proverbs 3:5-6 has become so dear to me over the years. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

Many times my “own understanding” raised red flags, cautioning, “You don’t want to do that – that’s silly.” But then God said, “Trust Me. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Thankfully, He’s shown that to be true more times than I could ever remember.

As adults we want to be “sophisticated,” relying on logic and reason. We prefer to walk by sight and not by faith, feeling too “grown up” for spiritual intangibles. But ultimately, that’s what faith is all about. It’s “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Another translation says it’s “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

For the little child at pool’s edge, staring at Daddy’s outreached hands, the leap forward isn’t based on hope-so but confident assurance, never doubting the parent will do as promised. God desires the same childlike trust from us. It’s like He’s saying, “Child, you’ve trusted Me before and I’ve always come through for you. Why would I stop doing that now?”

Struggling With a ‘Wait’ Problem

Apparently an aversion to waiting is as old as time. Note the facial
expressions on these statues at Walt Disney World's Epcot.

A friend and fellow blogger, Len Allen, recently wrote about what he called the Bible’s “worst four-letter word.” What was the word? Before you let your imagination run wild, it’s wait.

Statistics indicate eight out of every 10 Americans wrestle with their weight, but there’s another problem that’s even more universal: the struggle with “wait.” If we live in large metropolitan areas and use public transportation, we hate having to wait on the bus, the train or the subway. If we’re in a grocery store, we hate waiting in the checkout line. The same holds true in retail stores, restaurants, the department of motor vehicles, the doctor’s office, even churches when we arrive late and can’t be seated until the pastor finishes the opening prayer.

For whatever reason, I’ve found it most difficult to wait when career issues were involved. Years ago I was looking for a new job and had been interviewed by an executive recruiter. Rather than patiently waiting to hear from the recruiter, I called every other day to ask about progress. I never got the job offer – they probably were looking for someone with more patience.

Another time I was ready to move on vocationally, and some promising opportunities arose. As it turned out, however, several years passed before the right job became available. It was worth the wait – but I hated having to wait just the same.

Probably the greatest “wait” problem of all is waiting on God. We seek to know His will, and want to know what it is – right now. We present prayer requests to God and expect Him to answer on the spot. Someone dear to us, perhaps ourselves, is sick and we ask for healing – immediately.

But unlike weight problems that can diminish our lives, spiritual wait problems we struggle with often serve to enhance our lives. The Scriptures repeatedly speak about the need to wait on the Lord. In fact, at times He insists on it.

One of my favorite psalms, for instance, repeatedly talks about waiting on God: “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him…” (Psalm 37:7). In case the reader missed it the first time, the psalmist reiterates, “Wait for the Lord and keep his way. He will exalt you to inherit the land; when the wicked are cut off, you will see it” (Psalm 37:34).

A few chapters later we find another admonition to wait on the Lord: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Here are some similar passages:

“Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord” (Psalm 27:14).

“The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (Lamentations 3:25-26).

“Yet those who hope (wait) in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).

When we read passages like these, we nod our heads but our hearts want to complain: “Sure, God, that’s easy for You to say. You’ve got all the time in the world, but I’m tired of waiting. Why don’t You just do something?”

After more than six decades of living, more than half of them as a follower of Jesus, I’ve learned a difficult but enduring lesson: When God says, “Wait,” there’s always a good reason.

Perhaps He’s preparing to prove that like the old TV sitcom, “Father knows best.” You might be asking for the wrong thing, the timing isn’t right, or He has a different and better plan.

Maybe waiting is necessary for you to take the next step in your spiritual journey. As the verse above stated, “Be still, and know that I am God” – and know that you are not.

Or you need something stronger than a nudge to motivate you to exercise your spiritual muscles: “…because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4).

So if you find yourself in God’s waiting room, don’t think He’s forgotten you, or has become too busy, or doesn’t care. The Lord knows what you want. And even better, He knows what you need – because often what we want and need aren't the same. 

A wait problem can be a good thing.

What Will Your Verse Be?

I don’t know if you saw it, but recently Apple produced an intriguing TV commercial for its iPad. One reason I noticed the ad is it featured the Ohio State University marching band, along with people from a broad range of other pursuits, all using the tablet for their various activities. What stuck with me, however, was the question it posed.

The voiceover during the commercial stated, in part:

“Each of us has something to share. A voice, a passion, a perspective. The potential to add a stanza to the world’s story…. What will your verse be?”

Simple, concise words, but they pack a wallop of insight. We’ve become seduced by the superstar mentality, wrongly believing that only people whose names appear in news headlines or on magazine covers are those with something to offer. That is far from true. Our lives might not merit a segment on the evening news, but we all have unique gifts, talents and interests that can make a difference in the lives of people God has placed in our special spheres of influence.

This quote from Charles Lindbergh reflects the life
of a man willing to dare, to explore the limits
of human achievement. 

What is your voice, passion, or perspective? For some people, it’s endangered or abused animals. For others it’s children in poverty or confronting serious needs. There are many people who share a passion for the advancement of the arts. Then there are political causes, literacy, the environment, or countless other passions that can consume our thoughts, time and energy.

If you’ve read more than one or two of my posts in this blog, you have a sense of what mine are: Communicating the relevance and practical value of the Bible – which I believe to be the true Word of God – and challenging others to apply and integrate its timeless principles into every area of their lives. That’s my passion, my perspective, shaped over more than 30 years study, discussion and experience.

But the portion of the Apple commercial’s script that intrigued me most was the idea we each possess the potential “to add a stanza to the world’s story.” If, over the course of your lifetime, you can make a difference in the life of at least one or two people, you’ll be inserting your own stanza into the narrative of the world.

We often think of composers, poets, statesmen, scientists, inventors and entrepreneurs that have had that kind of impact. But what about a homemaker; someone performing clerical work; a sales person in a retail store; a server in a restaurant, or someone who sets aside an hour or two every week to befriending and mentoring a child from a low-income, single-parent home?

If we had the opportunity to engage in something big, to become a participant in a highly publicized enterprise, most of us would jump at the chance. Why not? We all want to make a splash, a tremendous difference, right? But the little stuff, those behind-the-scenes duties no one seems to notice – who cares about that?

Well, for starters, God cares. In a passage familiar to many of us, Jesus told the "parable of the talents," a story of servants entrusted with varying amounts of money to manage during their master’s absence. Upon his return, the owner asked each for an accounting of how they had used the money. As it turned out, two of the three servants had invested the funds and reaped a considerable return.

To both the master replied, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful with a few things. I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness” (Matthew 25:14-30).

God has uniquely and specifically equipped each of us for a particular impact on the world around us, to “add our stanza to the world’s story.” But individually we must take the initiative to ensure that stanza is written. The Lord won’t do it for us. He’ll provide the opportunities; He’s already given us the abilities, talent and expertise. Now it’s our job to put them all to use.

So the question that begs for our answer is the one from the Apple ad: “What will your verse be?”

As I write this, I think of several people close to me whose verses have been finalized. The ink has dried, but the stanzas they wrote continue to resonate. Parts of them were inscribed on my own heart. My hope is that for someone somewhere, a portion of my verse, my stanza, will remain indelible on their heart as well. Proverbs 27:17 states, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” God has used others to sharpen me over the years. My hope is that for someone else, I’ve been used as a sharpener.

So again I present the question of the day, one that ultimately can lead each of us to an assessment of whether we’ve lived a life worth living: What will your verse be?

Science . . . and Fiction

A sign looking over a western canyon proclaims God's majestic creation.

As a boy, I loved reading science fiction. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, among others, took me on adventures that stretched my imagination. Later I graduated to writers like Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury and Isaac Asimov. They envisioned other worlds, solar systems, galaxies and dimensions.

TV shows like “The Twilight Zone” “Outer Limits,” and “Star Trek” fed this fascination, which morphed into the wonderment of viewing films like “Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind,” “E.T.,” and the earliest installments of George Lucas’s “Star Wars” series.

Part of this intrigue was the unknown – not just the vast universe measured in light years, but even our own world filled with complexities and perplexities. Nobody would ever confuse me with Bill Nye the Science Guy, but the vast array of organisms that inhabit Planet Earth holds me in continual amazement. And the beauties of nature – whether a spectacular sunset, or an awe-inspiring glimpse of wonders like the Grand Canyon – dare even the most skilled writers to capture in words. Many have tried; none have fully succeeded.

Despite great appreciation for science – I'm able to write this today thanks in part to huge advances in medical science – it's troubling when science is equated with deity. Many kneel at the altar of science, convinced it holds the only answers to life as we know it, as well as what we don’t yet know.

I’m not among them. Even though various scientific disciplines have provided us with an ever-expanding storehouse of knowledge, we flirt with danger when confusing science and fiction.

Take, for example, medicine. We presume physicians will provide definitive diagnoses for all of our various ailments and maladies, but by their own admission, doctors often are limited to very educated guesses, hoping they’re right. Recently I underwent several tests to evaluate my heart functions seven years post-surgery. My cardiologist confirmed everything looks “stable” and “unchanged,” but he offered no guarantees.

Whether through a glorious sunset or a
frosted, snow-covered street, wonders
of science and faith can converge.

We hear of comprehensive studies reaching conclusions about everything from the value of having mammograms to the long-term effects of caffeine and alcohol. Then we learn of other research that concludes the opposite. Medical science’s certainties are anything but certain.

Or consider meteorology. Weathermen make grand predictions and then miss by a mile. “It’s going to snow!” and we get nothing. “We might get an inch or two,” and the next morning we’re digging out from more than a foot of white stuff. This applies to tornadoes, hailstorms and other potential disasters, too. It might be better to spell the profession, “whether-men,” as in “we don’t know for certain whether it’s going to do something or not.”

Some treat global warming/climate change as empirical, unquestioned facts, as others do in discussing the theory of evolution. But when emotion and dogmatism are extracted from the equation – if that’s even possible – we find credible authorities armed with strong arguments against prevailing opinion. The dividing line between science and fiction sometimes blurs.

At the same time, I’m not one of those that argue the Bible offers the last word on science. Most of all, the Scriptures are a vast collection of spiritual truth, revealing the God who is and who we are to Him. However, it’s interesting to consider the scientific acumen of the Bible. For instance, long before Columbus, Magellan and other explorers dispelled the notion of the world being flat, the Bible declared God “sits enthroned above the circle of the earth” (Isaiah 40:22).

Christianity is sometimes termed a “bloody religion,” but thousands of years ago the Bible asserted, “the life of a creature is in the blood” (Leviticus 17:11). If you’re ever in need of a transfusion, ask your physician if it would be okay to substitute tomato juice or red Kool-Aid instead of blood and see what response you get.

Too often science and spirituality are viewed as adversaries. Sometimes we see evidence of that – people hell-bent on rejecting the existence of God must embrace alternative explanations for life and the universe. But as a person of faith, I applaud science for seeking to understand the workings of everything the Creator God has fashioned.

The book of Genesis opens with four profound words: “In the beginning God….” How can the finite, temporal mind comprehend an infinite, eternal God? It can’t. But it’s easier for me to accept a God unfettered by time and physical laws than the proposition that all we are, all we see and all we can know had its “genesis” from absolutely nothing, and that we’re nothing more than the consequence of purposeless, cosmic chaos.

In the book of Job, God acknowledges our wish to discern matters of the divine: “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!... Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep?... Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell, if you know all this” (Job 38:4-18).

To me, science and the Scriptures need not merely coexist. They can complement, science gradually unraveling the profundities of creation, and the Bible revealing all we need to know about the One who created everything.

As the psalmist wrote, “Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom. One generation will commend your works to another; they will tell of your mighty acts…. They will tell of the power of your awesome works, and I will proclaim your great deeds” (Psalm 145:3-6).

Do We Really Understand Prejudice?

Someone on Facebook often posts comments and information related to his ethnicity. Recently he posted a link to a brief but touching story about a courageous black man that during his lifetime helped to free hundreds of slaves from bondage.

It’s a wonderful account of a determined man overcoming great struggle and adversity, one that could inspire many people regardless of race. But what gave me pause was it was labeled as an “I love black people photo.” Obviously the man posting is proud of his ethnicity, as well he should.

Such a reference is perfectly acceptable. But what if I – a Caucasian – were to post an image of a famous individual and label it an “I love white people photo”? Would that be regarded as “racist”? 

Can we really overcome prejudice and bigotry
by continually focusing on our differences?

I’m not trying to be argumentative. Really I’m not. It just seems if we’re ever to get beyond racism or any other form of bigotry, at last arriving at a point where we cease to regard or treat people differently, we should stop reminding others – and being reminded – of how different we are.

A few weeks ago a collegiate football player with NFL aspirations announced he’s gay. The sports media said it’s “no big deal,” but then for days talked about nothing else, even though the Winter Olympics was in full stride. As one collective voice, they lauded the player for “coming out” and implicitly dared anyone’s dissent, ready to pounce if it came.

Really, what does sexual orientation have to do with success in professional football? Whether a player is celibate, monogamous, polygamous, gay, or has a penchant for kinky stuff we wouldn’t want to know about, the only issue should be whether he can compete at the top level.

The point of the incessant discourse, of course, was to impress on everyone listening that gay people shouldn’t be regarded differently. But we know, should this player succeed in making an NFL roster, we’ll be constantly reminded he’s the first openly gay player in the pros. So he’s not different…except he is, right?

Back to the broader topic, as a boy I had little interaction with blacks. At my high school in the 1960s, even in the supposed “progressive” north, blacks and whites pretty much kept separate by their choice. And in college I had only a few black acquaintances, although not by intent. During my professional career, I started building friendships with African-American men who seemed to enjoy being with me as much as I did with them. One was a charismatic Jamaican police detective whose hands had been severed by a fugitive crime suspect wielding a machete. Ivan’s efforts to overcome such a disability were inspiring.

In my friendships with black men, I’ve strived to develop a kind of “color blindness.” And you know, it’s worked. My vision’s still good, and their blackness and my whiteness are obvious, but together we’ve learned we have more things in common than things that are dissimilar.

The Bible says, “The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). There’s the problem. Only by building relationships and getting to know one another can we succeed in getting past outward appearances, differences of skin color and ethnicity, and start looking at the heart.

We don’t often hear it taught this way, but two of Jesus’ most famous stories strike at the foundation of prejudice and bigotry in its various forms. Both accounts shatter racial stereotypes and biases.

The first is the so-called parable of the Good Samaritan, recounted in Luke 10:25-37. In the fictitious story, a man was attacked by robbers along a road, leaving him seriously injured. Two religious leaders avoided the man, ignoring his plight, but a man from Samaria – a people held in scorn and contempt by the Jews – stopped to care for the wounded individual and provide for his needs during recovery.

If Jesus were to tell this parable today, He might choose for the victim to be a Ku Klux Klansman and the “good Samaritan” to be an African-American.

The second story concerned Jesus’ encounter with a woman at the well in Samaria, described in John 4:4-42. A different type of bigotry was at work here. To begin with, she was a despised Samaritan – and Jesus was a Jew. The fact of her gender was another strike against her, since the culture of those times regarded women as second-class citizens, hardly worthy of a stranger’s attention. And lastly, she had been married multiple times and the man she was living with wasn't her husband, clearly contrary to moral standards of the day.

For Jesus to address such a woman was virtually unheard of. When His disciples saw it they were astounded. Yet He defied the cultural mores and not only talked to her, but treated her with compassion and respect, speaking with honesty but without condemnation.

If we are ever to rise above racism and bigotry, truly overcoming it rather than suppressing it by legislation and the edicts of political correctness, we need to follow Jesus’ example. Outward appearances mean nothing, He declared. They can mislead and be manipulated. Instead, continually seek out the heart. That’s where the true person resides.