Batman, God - and The Joker: the Shooting in Aurora

(I don't know the author of this piece but thought it was worth posting/sharing.)

  By Paul Asay

It reads like the scene from a Christopher Nolan Batman movie.

A man, heavily armed and wearing a bulletproof vest, opens fire on a theater full of innocents, killing 12 people and wounding scores of others. Officials find signs his apartment may be booby trapped — trip wires tied to what appear to be homemade bombs. When police remove the killer’s gas mask, they discover the suspect — 24-year-old James Holmes — has dyed his hair red.

The Joker, he calls himself.

If only it had been a scene. If only the people in that Aurora, Colo., theater could’ve watched the horror unfold on screen, it would’ve made some sort of sense. It would’ve driven the plot forward, pushed Nolan’s brooding Dark Knight into action. And after Nolan called “cut,” actors and extras would’ve gotten up, brushed themselves off and walked away.

But there in Aurora, there was no Batman to stop the killer, no director to cut the scene. There was no plan to it, no plot — at least not that we can see. It’s just a tragedy — another senseless horror in a world that’s known far too many.

Of all the words that can be used to describe the Aurora shooting, “senseless” may be the worst word of all — particularly for those of us who call ourselves Christian. We claim to worship a good, just and all-powerful God — a God who loves us with a passion as broad as the universe itself. We are His children, we say. And God wouldn’t let any harm come to His children … would He?

And the question hangs in the air, waiting, pleading for an answer.

It’s sadly appropriate Holmes took on The Joker’s persona. He, among all of Batman’s archvillains, offers the worst possible answer to that hanging question: God? he chirps, brushing a hand through his caterpillar-green hair. How quaint. How precious. There is no God. There is no meaning. There is no reason in this cold, dark place. The only truth is that there is no truth.

“I’m not a monster,” he tells Batman in The Dark Knight. “I’m just ahead of the curve.”

The clash between Batman and the Joker is a struggle between meaning and meaninglessness. And that struggle goes to the core of our being.

We don’t know what sort of faith Batman has — what he believes in, if anything. But it’s obvious he believes in meaning — an overarching sense of purpose that transcends our biology and upbringing. For Batman, right and wrong aren’t just man-made constructs, but eternal ideals. He believes our lives have purpose: I believe that’s why he protects the people of Gotham with such verve and holds himself to such strict standards.

But the Joker, he doesn’t believe in any of that stuff. Right and wrong, life and death, it’s all part of the same cosmic joke. Meaning? Pish.

That’s why The Joker never goes away, I think — not for long, at any rate. His philosophy is too frightening to vanish completely. In his grinning visage, Batman faces his own secret doubt — doubt that many Christians like me sometimes face during the darkest moments of our lives. We wonder, in the wake of our Auroras, whether we’re behind the curve. Senseless tragedy hits us in the gut. Any explanation we might give, any words of hope we might try to offer, seem so inadequate: A joke that only the Joker could laugh at.

And yet there is hope. And we see a shadow of it in Batman.

The superhero’s fictional Gotham is a dark, brutal and often senseless place — a comic-book mirror of our own flawed and failing world. Batman knows it well. When he was just a boy, his parents were murdered in front of him.

I doubt Batman believes God was there in that alley that night when his parents were killed. And yet, a seed of a future hero was sewn in that awful moment. God didn’t pull the trigger. He didn’t “cause” that tragedy. But I believe God could’ve, in this fictional universe, worked through it. In the midst of Bruce Wayne’s darkest night, a Dark Knight was born.

I can’t say where God was yesterday in that Aurora theater. I’m no theologian, but personally, I doubt whether such evil could be part of God’s original, ideal blueprint. But I do believe this: That in the midst of such senseless tragedy, God is with us and, if we let Him, He can work through us. In the crux of our pain and confusion, He’s there—infusing this meaningless tragedy with meaning, offering hope in the midst of this helplessness.

**

Paul Asay is the author of God on the Streets of Gotham: What the Big Screen Batman Can Teach us About God and Ourselves. He works as a movie reviewer with the Christian outlet Pluggedin.com.

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May You Live Christmas

Do All NASCAR Drivers Go to Heaven?

Do all NASCAR drivers go to Heaven?

That’s one of the questions we’ll be talking about this week in our Sunday School class. Yes, in our Sunday School class.

We use a series, The Wired Word, in which we apply scripture to current events.

Anyway, with all of the recent NASCAR news - 20-year-old Trevor Bayne winning in Daytona and Jeff Gordon finally getting back in Victory Lane in Phoenix - I started thinking about the first time I attended a race. It was, as any South Carolinian might guess, at Darlington.

Ah, Darlington. Sometimes referred to as “The Lady in Black” and as “The Track to Tough to Tame,” Darlington’s egg-shaped raceway is legendary.

And that’s where I took my three children years ago as we experienced our first-ever live, in-person NASCAR race. The four of us were so excited – for a while.

For one thing, nobody ever told me to take earplugs. You think it sometimes gets loud in a football stadium? That’s not even close to loud compared to the stands at Darlington.

And nobody ever told me how to dress for one of these sporting events. There IS a dress code, even if it’s not in writing. You know how folks really dress up to go to the Carolina Cup and to other horse races, like the Kentucky Derby and such? Well, you do NOT dress “up” for the races at Darlington, although I believe shirt and shoes are required.

We arrived at the “Track Too Tough to Tame” all crisp and clean.

By the time we left “The Lady in Black,” I was another lady in black. We all were filthy. Where did all of that black stuff come from? It covered our clothes, our hair, our bodies. It must have been that so-called “bear grease sealant” they use on the tracks or the rubber burned off the tires.

(When my much younger sister Lorri was “Miss Southern 500,” she didn’t have to worry about getting dirty in the high-falutin’ section where she was stationed.)

NASCAR’s greats have prevailed at Darlington: Richard Petty, Dale Earnhardt, Cale Yarborough, LeeRoy Yarbrough, Bill Elliott, Fireball Roberts, David Pearson, Bobby Allison, Jeff Gordon and more.

I don’t know if all NASCAR drivers go to Heaven, but I know they all go to Darlington.

Some would say that’s one and the same.


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This Must Have Been an Embarrassed Mom

Art Linkletter was right when he proclaimed, “Kids day the darndest things.”

They really do. And some of the best examples surely come from children’s sermons in various churches. How members of the clergy keep from laughing is beyond me!

One incident took place several years ago in a large South Carolina church. It just so happened that this congregation’s services were broadcast live. (Wouldn’t you know it?)

When the minister sat down in the chancel area and called all of the children forward for their special time together, i.e. the children’s sermon, one little girl bouncingly walked forward, dressed in an extremely fancy and frilly dress. She plopped down right next to the minister.

While waiting for other children to come forward, the minister smiled at the little girl and remarked, “What a pretty dress you have on.”

And with the whole congregation listening and all of the broadcast audience tuned in as well, the little girl beamed up at the minister and said into the microphone, “I know, but my momma said it’s a b---- to iron!”

There was no report on how long it took to get the mother up off the floor.



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God.com

The following was forwarded to me, and I thought it was worth sharing.

TO: God.Com  (God-dot-com)

Every single evening

As I'm lying here in bed,

This tiny little prayer

Keeps running through my head:

God, bless all my family

Wherever they may be,

Keep them warm And safe from harm

For they're so close to me.

And, God, there is one more thing

I wish that you could do;

Hope you don't mind me asking,

Please bless my computer, too.

Now I know that it's unusual

To bless a motherboard,

But listen just a second

While I explain it to you, Lord.

You see, that little metal box

Holds more than odds and ends;

Inside those small compartments

Rest so many of my friends.

I know so much about them

By the kindness that they give,

And this little scrap of metal

Takes me in to where they live.

By faith is how I know them

Much the same as you.
We share in what life brings us
And from that our friendships grew.

Please take an extra minute

From your duties up above,

To bless those in my address book

That's filled with so much love.

Wherever else this prayer may reach

To each and every friend,

Bless each e-mail inbox

And each person who hits 'send'.

When you update your Heavenly list

On your own Great CD-ROM,

Bless everyone who says this prayer

Sent up to GOD.Com

A Little Bit of Forgiveness Might Be in Order

Yes, I know what the Bible says in Psalm 24: “This is the day which the LORD has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”


But some days are just harder than others for rejoicing.

Like this past Wednesday. I could tell it was going to be one of those days.

It poured rain from the time I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and worsened during the day. Local forecasts had ranged from isolated tornados to damaging winds and rains to flash floods and strong thunderstorms. As the morning rush hour started and continued, traffic reports showed loads of wrecks, flooded streets and traffic jams throughout the whole area.

And I sat inside listening to the hard rain, I suddenly remembered: my car has a leak in it. Not one through which things leak OUT. Oh, no; this is one through which the rain leaks IN.

Do I have a garage? Yes, but it’s so full of junk (and a few good things) that there is no room for a car! My garage just as well be called a “storage facility.” It’s even difficult for a human to walk inside.

So, since the garage is used for storage, the car with the leak in it sat in the driveway – likely with a wet interior. I knew I’d have to mosey on out soon to check the water level.

Thank goodness for umbrellas, I thought; I have three of them, maybe even four.

And then as I looked around, I realized that, unfortunately, all three (or four) umbrellas were out in that car with the leak. Along with my raincoat.

I hope the Lord forgives me. I was not rejoicing on Wednesday!

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I Am Totally Embarrassed

Boy, was I embarrassed! I mean really, really embarrassed.

First, a little background. Over the years I’ve had two back surgeries, including a fusion. Overall, both surgeries were successful and brought tremendous relief.

However, on occasion I have severe pain in the lower back, the left hip and down the left leg. This is brought on or aggravated by long periods of sitting in the same position, especially when driving a long distance. It is also aggravated by walking while toting heavy items.

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, I was involved in sitting in the same position for a long period as well as walking while toting heavy items, so I spent most of Thanksgiving weekend in excruciating pain.

By Saturday night, I decided to take something strong for the pain. This wasn’t late at night; it was only about 8 pm or so.

I zonked out – totally.

When I woke up again, it was 11:28 am on Sunday!! I slept through two alarms and a phone call.

I also slept through Sunday School and church. Usually I get up between 4 a.m. and 6 a.m., so 11:28 was like a whole extra night’s sleep.

So, what’s the big deal?

Well, the deal is that I’m the Sunday School teacher! And I slept through Sunday School!

If there’s a positive side to this, it’s that I teach a class of adults, not little children. There wasn’t much chance that class members would leave and run in the road or cause other problems or harm to themselves.

Still, I was totally embarrassed. I e-mailed class members to apologize and got all kinds of responses.

At least if they cut my pay in half, it won’t make much of a difference. After all, half of zero is still zero.

Just the same, I am embarrassed!

Have you ever done anything embarrassing like this?  What?  Share --  just so I'll feel better!

Oops! I Said WHAT???

Yesterday, I was assisting minister at our church for both morning services. 

I'm a Lutheran and have been a Lutheran all of my life.  I've played the organ for services of other denominations and have found so many similarities.  Anyway, having been Lutheran all of my life, one would assume I could remember the service.

Yet, yesterday, when I was supposed to say something like this: "Together, let us use the Apostles' Creed to confess our faith" I said instead "Together, let us use the Apostles' Creed to confess our sins."

Someone told me later that mistake was because I'm much more involved in sins than in faith!!!

Oh, well. 

Embarrassment in Church!

Being a substitute church organist can lead to embarrassment, and it certainly has for me.

So far this year, I’ve filled in at several Lutheran, Episcopal and Presbyterian churches. I’ve been a Lutheran all of my life, although I’ve been employed at various times by a Methodist church, two Lutheran churches, a Catholic school and a Baptist school.

Each congregation within a denomination has its own way of doing things. And that can be a problem.

In our church, near the end of the service, we have a closing hymn, followed by a brief dismissal by the pastor or assisting minister.

Another congregation, though, has the dismissal before the final hymn – except for one Sunday when I was the organist.

Oh, they meant to have the dismissal first, but, when it was time for the minister to say something, I started playing the hymn. No one was singing.


Well, it’s not so easy to read the music, play the organ and look around at the same time. When I managed to glance at the preacher, I noticed he was just standing there, facing the congregation with a smile on his face.


So, finally I stopped playing. He immediately had the dismissal, and then I started playing again, this time with the congregation singing.

After the service, I apologized to the pastor. He smiled and said, “Oh, that’s okay. I had all afternoon. I figured you’d stop playing sooner or later!”

Three weeks ago I filled in at an Episcopal church, which I had done several times previously. Typically the senior warden scans the hymns, then e-mails them to me a few days prior to the service. One of the hymns he e-mailed this time was unfamiliar to me.

This particular hymn was number 512 in their hymnal. Well, when it was time to sing that one, just before the sermon, the minister announced for the congregation to stand and sing number 521. I glanced back in the church bulletin; it had 512, not 521.

Panic set in; I didn’t know whether to play what I had been sent, which was also in the bulletin, or whether to play the one announced by the minister.

Guess which I played? Oh, you don’t want to guess? Well, that’s what that entire congregation had to do while I was playing. Not even one person went with what was in the bulletin – except me. Nobody was singing. So, after one verse, I quit playing.

The minister went to the pulpit and, as he was to begin his sermon, in a friendly voice he said, “Sherry, what was that you were playing?” He waited for an answer, so, from the back of the sanctuary where the organ was located, I apologized, saying that I played what was in the bulletin.
I played at the same church again yesterday; yes, they actually invited me back! When I walked in, the senior warden greeted me by telling me there was a mistake in the bulletin with one of the hymns.

This time, we got it straight before the service started!

Thank goodness, having played for hundreds of church services, weddings and funerals, I don't have many embarrassing moments to write about!!!

Declaration of INTERdependence?

Yesterday was full of celebrations. Fireworks, food, families, friends, music, flags. We Americans are proud of our independence, as well we should be.

Sometimes, though, I think we ought to recognize and celebrate our interdependence as well. We wave our flags and celebrate independence, but, in reality, we are truly an interdependent nation, an interdependent people.

In other words, we depend on each other.

We depend on the military to protect our freedoms and independence.

Think about just one routine day. Most of us depend upon the person who delivers the paper, the person who delivers the mail. Perhaps we depend on those who write the news articles in the newspaper. We depend upon those who deliver the news on radio and TV.

We depend on other drivers to travel with care.

Generally, we depend on teachers, firefighters, law enforcement officers. We depend on farmers, wholesalers, retailers.

We depend on friends and family to be there for us, in good times and in bad. We rely on doctors, nurses, hospital personnel; cooks and chefs in restaurants; employers and fellow employees.

We depend on architects to design and engineers to build safe buildings, bridges and roads. We rely on inspectors to look out for consumers. We depend on bus drivers, pilots, train conductors.

We trust and depend on counselors and religious leaders.


We depend on others and others depend on us. After my husband - The Dawg - died ten days ago, I depended on many people - and still do. In his last weeks, he depended on me to do things he had always done for himself. We depended on our own prayers and on the prayers of others.


It’s fine to celebrate our independence, but perhaps we ought to take time to reflect on just how interdependent we are as well. Can you think of several people who depend on you? How about people you depend on? Who are they and why you rely on them?

We can’t do without each other, can we? As John Donne wrote, “No man is an island.”

How fortunate we are to have each other! How fortunate we are to have not only our independence but also our interdependence.

In God We Trust

The following is used by permission from the author, Chaplain Glen Krans. He asked that I also acknowledge www.sermonillustrations.com. This "Thought for the Day" from Chaplain Krans is perfect for Independence Day.

This year the United States of America is 233 years old. That's a long time for a nation to remain free. But when you look at nations such as Egypt, China, Japan, Rome, and Greece who have been around for thousands of years, America's history seems short indeed.

Consider what a brief time we've really been here as a nation: When Thomas Jefferson died, Abraham Lincoln was a young man of 17. When Lincoln was assassinated, Woodrow Wilson was a boy of 8. By the time Wilson died Ronald Reagan was a boy of 12. There you have it. The lives of four men can take you all the way back to the beginning of our country.

We are young and yet we stand tall among these nations because of the principles on which we were established: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness”.

This is what we celebrate: the inalienable rights that we have and the fact that we believe they have been given to us by God. Both truths are important. We can debate whether God has blessed us with liberty and therefore we are free, or whether we have wisely and simply built our liberty based on biblical principles. In either case our freedom is from God.

When America was first established as a nation, the feeling was that God had given us an opportunity to do something great! Each person had value and rights. Our democratic society was to reflect that and be run by rules that embody those values. AND THERE WAS ALWAYS AN UNDERCURRENT OF DEPENDENCE ON GOD AND GRATITUDE FOR HIS DIVINE GUIDANCE. You will see that language in every major speech delivered by our founding fathers, in our Constitution, and in each and every preamble to each Constitution of each state in our union.

The difference between then and now is this: even though we still focus on the same values, many Americans have forgotten that God has given all this to us. The result of that denial is that it has become nearly impossible to have a moral conversation in our society. When we deny that this conversation is rooted in God, then it all comes down to “me” and we are left with no common language of moral discourse. That is, when we stop choosing one course over another simply because we know it to be the right thing to do; when we live as though freedom meant doing what we want because we have the “right” to do it; when we have no ability to talk about those principles and mandates beyond ourselves that determine what is true or false/right or wrong; then we have chaos.

19th century French writer, de Tocqueville, after visiting in America in 1831, said, “I sought for the greatness of America in her commodious harbors…and it was not there. I sought for it in her rich mines, her institutions of higher learning…and it was not there. I looked for it in her democratic Congress and…matchless Constitution…and it was not there. Not until I went into the Churches of America and saw her pulpits aflame with righteousness did I understand the secret of America’s genius and power. America is great because America is good. And, if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.”

This is an important part of what it means to say, “In God We Trust”. It’s not just a slogan, a tip of the hat to the good ole boy upstairs, a hopeful expression that God will continue to favor us as a nation and shower us with blessings as individuals. It means that our lives are built upon faith and trust; on respect for each other based on a goodness that God has taught us, and upon the belief that the very future of our free society is in God’s hands.

On this Independence Day weekend we confess that our freedoms and our blessings as Americans are gifts from God. These are gifts that cannot be repaid—that’s the nature of a gift. But there is a debt of gratitude that our hearts recognize and that we willingly take on. “In God We Trust” also speaks of that debt.

God Bless America!

Every Blessing,
Chaplain Glen Krans

Are There Horses in Your Life?

Jane sent the following. I liked it so much, I decided to share!

There is a field, with two horses in it.

From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse.

But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing. Looking into the eyes of one horse you will discover that he is blind.

His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but instead has made a good home for him.

This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell. Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field.

Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell. It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.

As you stand and watch these two horses, you'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse, and that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk to where the other horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray.

When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and looks back, making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.

Like the owners of these two horses, God does not throw us away just because we are not perfect or because we have problems or challenges. He watches over us and even brings others into our lives to help us when we are in need.

Sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those who God places in our lives. Other times we are the guide horse, helping others to find their way....

Good friends are like that... you may not always see them, but you know they are always there.

Please listen for my bell and I'll listen for yours.

And remember...be kinder than necessary - everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply, Love generously, Care deeply, Speak kindly.....Leave the rest to God...

Home-Cookin'

Sunday dinners aren’t like they used to be for many people, especially in the South. Families used to gather after church – often with extended families – for a big meal with lots of Southern-style “home-cookin’.”

Over the years, more and more families have changed their rituals and traditions; many are going out to eat for Sunday dinner or just picking up food to take home or perhaps just grabbing a quick sandwich. Probably because I just like food in general, I enjoy ALL of those options!


Yesterday at church we had one combined worship service instead of our normal two. Since that meant getting there about an hour earlier than usual for me, I decided to make Sunday dinner ahead of time in my favorite old standby, the crockpot.

I put in chicken breasts, French onion soup, and a variety of other odds ‘n ends, which is the way I usually cook. French onion soup makes just about anything better, and the odds ‘n ends? Well, I don’t know exactly what they do, but they help!

Silently, I considered whether or not to turn the crockpot on "high"or on "low" for the chicken to be completely cooked by meal time, but not overcooked. Finally, I decided to turn the knob to the low setting.


After church, The Dawg asked what I had cooked. As I described the food, I could almost smell the aroma of the cooked meal. I just knew this was going to be yummy in my tummy!

What a shock when we walked in at home: there was no aroma. None. Nada. Zip.

Yes, I had selected “low” instead of “high” – but I had forgotten to plug in the crockpot.

Oh, well. So much for Sunday dinner.

PhotoHunt: BOOKS

Wow! Where does one start with this week's theme - books?

My first thought was a set of World Book encyclopedias, which is what I grew up with; each volume has loads of photos, and this IS a photo hunt after all.

Instead, though, I decided to go with photos of three books.

The first is LUKE: Ambassador of the Word. It's the fourth book by a friend a mine, retired minister George Truett Moore. In fact, I was a reviewer for this and one of his other books. As I read this book, I felt like I was right there with Luke and pulling for him as he made important life decisions. It's a very interesting read and one that gives new insights into Luke's life and ministry. Luke is a good choice for anyone interested in religion, history, ministry and more.

Pastor Moore and his wonderful (and artistic) wife, Elizabeth, are coming to South Carolina; their plans include a local book-signing on June 10th. Click on the picture to find out more about him, his interesting background and his books.

Coincidentally, George Moore was born in Greenville, SC, which is the hometown of the author of the next book. She is Mindy Friddle, the daughter of a friend of mine. Secret Keepers is a delightful book for anyone but especially for folks fascinated by all things southern. Fabulous read for gardeners also. Mindy's first book was The Garden Angel. Click on her book's picture to go to the web site to learn more about Mindy and her books.

Don't you just love those old boots and that old typewriter on the cover?

The final book in today's threesome hasn't been published yet but it's due out in November. C://Mom Run, edited by Beth Feldman, founder of RoleMommy.com, is a compilation of "side-splitting essays from the world's most harried blogging moms." Yep, I'm one of those moms and looking forward to this book's publication. Full of humor, the book may be ordered in advance on Amazon; just click on the picture to reach that site for pre-publication prices.

How's that for promoting books during a photo hunt?

Other participants in the weekly PhotoHunt may be found here.

Photo Hunt: Hands

The Photo Hunt subject in blogland this week is HANDS.

How about the hands of time?

In this hand is a hand of cards. Was he dealt a good hand?

Here's another card hand, along with hands in the background.

Ah, the hands of love! This picture is from one of the weddings at which I officiated.

Sometimes gloved hands play the handbells, like these at our church.

Precious hands - another from our church.

And more from our church.

Finally, here's a photo of what I have hanging on my kitchen wall.

Did you know the human hand has 27 bones? According to Wikipedia, the "average length of an adult male hand is 189 mm, while the average length of an adult female hand is 172 mm. The average hand breadth for adult males and females is 84 and 74 mm respectively."

To see more participants in this week's Photo Hunt, click here.

After reading some of the comments left on the original post, I edited this to add the photo below. It's the full picture of the painting on my kitchen wall. Initially, I used only a portion to emphasize the hands, this week's theme. It is one of my all-time favorites.

Photo Hunt: Thankful -- for "F" Words?

The word for this week's Photo Hunt in blogland is "thankful."

I am thankful for much, but especially for the "F" words: Family, Friends and Faith.

Most of the family, Christmas 2008.

Mandy, Adam, Tree & Tiffany - on vacation.

(two daughters, one son, one son-in-law.)

More pictures of family and friends at the bottom of the blog page in a slideshow.

Click here to find more participants in Photo Hunt.

How to Keep From Dying

I’ve often said that how things are worded can make a big difference.
Just a few days ago, I read something that I think wasn’t what the writer intended. It was in Parade Magazine, the Sunday supplement in many papers across the country.
Dr. Ranit Mishori wrote an article titled “How Spirituality Keeps You Well”; it was about a study called "Annals of Epidemiology."

Here’s the sentence that really grabbed my attention: More specifically, weekly churchgoers have a lower risk of death than those who never set foot inside a place of worship.

How’s that again? People who go to church weekly have a lower risk of dying than do other folks? I don’t think so!
If that were the case, churches would be full every week. They would be absolutely packed, maybe even on weekdays. Push aside the medicines and miracle anti-aging cures; just go to church to lower chances of dying!
I’m certainly not downplaying the seriousness of the study or of Dr. Mishori’s article. There are some important findings following the research into the link between health and spirituality. Mishori points out the reasons for improved physical, emotional and mental health, based on the research. Nor am I engaging in a theological discussion because this article didn’t have to do with eternal life.
Nor am I going to write anymore; I don’t have time. I’ve got to get in one more church service today!
Here’s to a long life!
What a way to end one year and start a new one!

Have a Blessed Christmas

The War on Christmas: Happy Holidays, Season's Greetings or Merry Christmas

(The following is a serious article and written by someone else, but used with permission. Just one I thought worth sharing.)

Fight the real 'War on Christmas'

The buzz on talk radio and on cable TV describes a War on Christmas. It's true. There is a War on Christmas.

But it's not the war you'll hear the windbag pundits talk about. That false crisis centers on whether sales circulars and store banners proclaim "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas," and why store clerks salute you with "Season's Greetings!"

That's a war? Oh, come on. The real War on Christmas is not whether "Merry Christmas" gets edged out of the crass commercial marketplace, those houses of material worship where people spend way too much money on stuff they really don't need, or for people who already have everything they could possibly want.

The real War on Christmas is evidenced in the growing reality that the shopping and the decorations and the overconsumption is actually the major part of our culture's celebration of Christmas. Why get upset about "Christmas" being dropped from the commercial marketplace unless you think there is some intrinsic connection between the miracle of God's incarnation and maxing out your credit cards at the shopping mall?

The real War on Christmas has been waged for years by retailers and consumers who have degraded the meaning of Christmas to little more than a cheesy sales gimmick. In other words, we are all guilty. Christians can fight back. We can remind the world of the miracle of Christmas -- that God loves us so much, God came down to earth to save us, to dwell with us, to teach us. And God took the form of an ordinary human child born to an ordinary human family under dire circumstances and in the midst of violence. We can tell the Christmas story. And what a story that is! Matthew's Christmas story gives us terrorism in the form of Herod, a Saddam Hussein of his time and place. Insecure of his power, Herod is threatened by the arrival of an infant king, and he orders the slaughter of male infants of his own people, in his own land. Jesus and his parents flee for their lives! They become refugees on the run from their own government, much like the refugees in the Darfur region of the Sudan today, and like the people of Kosovo did in the 1990s. (For a mind-stretching exercise, imagine that if Jesus arrived today, he might be born to a refugee family in Darfur!)

Here's the miracle: The birth of Jesus, the arrival of God to save us, came in the midst of intense human cruelty, poverty and sinfulness. This was God's choice, through which God sent us a powerful message: God signaled, in effect, "I am with you, all of you, in the worst of the worst in order that you may have the best of the best. I am with you forever so that you may be with me forever." This is the meaning of Christmas worth fighting for. Let the shopkeepers call their silly winter sales what they wish. (In fact, why not keep Christ OUT of them.) Christians proclaim Emmanuel -- God is with us -- not only with their lips and shopping habits, but in their lives and hearts and souls.

-Rob Blezard, editor. Copyright (c) 2005, Rev. Robert Blezard, http://www.stewardshipoflife.org/. used by permission."

Saturday Sign (on Sunday)

Flckr photo by Martin Q.