Hezekiah

I've waded through the first nine chapters of Chronicles--the one part of the Bible that bogs me down more than Leviticus. I've gone over a rehashing of all the kings of Judah: So-and-so did right but... Then, so-and-so did wrong and...

Finally, I come to Hezekiah (II Chron. 29 & 30). After the sixteen very evil years of his father, Hezekiah immediately returns the people to worshiping God. But no one is ready. They have to put off the Passover for a month and it is still messy and chaotic. I can just imagine the questions from those who don't remember how to celebrate it. They fail to follow all the rules.

But they come eagerly, in honesty and sincerity. Some travel from the far parts of Israel despite the ridicule of their neighbors. They throw themselves on God's mercy and He forgives the messiness, the wrongness, even their sin. They celebrate. With joy. For two weeks instead of one.

What a picture of God's grace! What a story of hope for restoration.

And what an invitation to come - to a God Who now has offered the final Passover and made us ready so that no one need be "unprepared."

To-Do List

Some of my thoughts during church earlier today. It might be something of a bucket list. It might be suggestions to this year's graduates. Maybe it's just a philosophy.

1. Do something well.
2. Do it even better.
3. Do many things.
4. Do something new.
5. Do honest work that does not always receive honor.
6. Do it honorably.
7. Do what is good.
8. Do what is right.
9. Know the truth.
10. Do it—live the truth.

In a time of such bounty...

I was channel surfing the other night and saw a short clip from the History Channel's "History of Thanksgiving." After a little discussion about FDR trying to change the holiday's date, it passed on to celebrations during WWII. There were pictures of soldiers going down a food line. The narrator explained that this was the first meat they would have in a couple months. A veteran took over the tale and explained how their captain suggested they give their dinners to the local children.

As I watched the film clips of the children eating and the veteran still choked up at the memory, I found myself almost ashamed of our lame contemporary examples of "charity." When have any of us actually sacrificed to give a small piece of happiness to someone else? How many people have you heard complain about the state of our economy? Do any of them know hunger or real need?

The people in my life who have the least would still be wealthy in many countries. I feel guilty for the riches and comfort that I enjoy. It's not that I want to lose it, but I have a sense that we as a people are not up to the standard that generation reached.

I think that perhaps we have lost our way, that we no longer understand what matters, that we can no longer tell the difference between the important and the trivial. We need to relearn values. We need to accurately assess the elements of our lives, to assign their correct values.

We need to remember that we live in mansions. That we have more than we need, more than we can even use. We need to remember we are rich.

But more than that we need to remember that people are more important than things. That time around the table transcends what is on the table. That today is a gift, something we were neither promised nor could earn.

Perhaps then, if the future calls us to show the courage and grace of our ancestors, we will have begun to be ready.

Help! The house is on fire!

Lately, I've noticed the effect of instant information. The week before Thanksgiving, the house of some friends in Colorado burned down. We only see them about once a year, but I got the news the very next day via Facebook. Then, two days ago, I got up to this status message on a friend's Facebook: "P- is thinking of his neighbors... whose house is burning down right now!"

There I am, going about my day, knowing that someone's house is burning. It's a rather strange feeling. And overwhelming. I just know about too many people's struggles. I can get daily updates on the recovery of someone I've never met. I hear about job losses and personal struggles from all over.

It's like the old-fashioned prayer chain (of which my mother is still a part) on steroids. "Please pray for John's step-uncle's neighbor in Kalamazoo who just broke his ankle." I've become aware of persecuted Christians in the Sudan and China, of famines and natural disasters, of wars in every part of the globe.

And I feel like I become hardened to it. It's not that I don't care, however. It's just that I can't deal with it. There is so much pain. I can't pray. If I start the list, it never ends.

And I also find myself confused about how prayer works. To what extent does it "do anything"? If I pray harder, does it "force God's hand"?

So I find myself paying attention only to those situations directly in front of me, for the time that they remain there. And I pray for what seems to randomly come to mind. Hardly a plan, but it helps keep the vastness of this world's pain at bay.

At least until I figure out how to operate a firehose through the computer.

Joe the Plumber

Political figure, newest American icon, representative normal citizen. Yes, he is a little of all of these, but Joe Wurzelbacher is more than just someone who happened to land 15 minutes of prime time coverage. He is an American Hero. A guy who does a job, does a job well, and wants to make good by it. Why? Because that's what Americans do.

I think he deserves the only truly American expression of his achievement. I think we need *drum roll here* the Joe the Plumber Action Figure. It would come with all the right tools for the job and maybe a small book explaining plumbing (or, at least, naming the tools). I also propose dual outfits for him. The first would be classic plumber attire sporting the red, white, and blue True American Heroes [trade mark pending] logo. The second would include cape and mask for saving the public from those really bad liquid disasters.

I'm sure a web site would soon follow. Accessory kits with pipes and fittings kids can use to build their own water movement system would be the hottest item for Christmas. Then there are other Heroes to consider: Dave the Truck Driver, Mary the Waitress, Bob the Security Guard.

No politicians, though. Not in an election year.

On election day

God has given us many blessings. What good are they if we refuse them?

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2008/october/22.150.html

Nothing new under the sun

Have you seen the commercial? The one where they take Honey Bunches of Oats cereal and blow away the flakes. They call it New Just Bunches. The irony is that recently they published the history of the original cereal on the box. I hadn't realized it was developed in the late '80s. I sure don't remember getting it in those years. (Oh, that's right. Those were our oatmeal years.)

I read the account--mostly because it was written with words. I've always been a sucker for those. It tells how a Post worker thought that he could take a number of existing cereals and create an even better one. He used a couple kinds of flakes and some granola. After some experimenting, Honey Bunches of Oats made its debut.

Now what do we get? The granola by itself. The favorite health food of 20 years ago. And this in an election year advocating CHANGE.

Well, maybe Just Bunches makes sense after all.

ACORN

ACORN: The Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now, Inc.

Founded in the '70s, ACORN has worked to get low- to middle-income people in housing. They forced (by lawsuit, etc.) compliance with the Community Reinvestment Act that dictates banks to make loans to those with low incomes. In the '80s, Barack Obama was involved in these lawsuits in Chicago.

In the fall of 2008, the overwhelming impact of defaults on loans such as these destroyed major invesetment banks and forced the U.S. Congress to spend $700 billion of our money to bail out the economy.

At last, I know what a community organizer is!

Oh, ACORN is also involved in voter registration. They or their workers have been investigated for fraud in a number of states--including Wisconsin.