Tag Archives: Faith

Some thoughts on Psalm 40

Pass it along



Been on a spiritual journey. Want to share some of my thoughts on my favorite Psalm 40. A psalm of David I identify with. A look at some versus, not necessarily in verse order.

Seeing is believing. Or is it hearing?

“And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the LORD.” Psalm 40:3

Paul says in Romans 10:17 “So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.”  And the old expresssion says ‘Seeing is Believing.’ And yet the children of the children of those led out of Egypt had such little faith in both what they saw and heard that by the fourth generation they were fallen away from God. So is it hearing or seeing? Besides: don’t believe everything you see. Even salt looks like sugar. 

Curious. You would think many would HEAR the song or praise. But King David said many would “see it.”  I pondered on this a lot. And after I read one of Paul’s accounts, I think I understand David’s words better now.

I’m sure people do hear praise and especially in song. In fact God says “So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” (Romans 10:17).  So we expect salvation from hearing. So David threw me for a loop with his, “many shall see it and fear.”

But I think you can see what I did if you’ll look at Paul’s experience in Thyatira just outside Phillipi at Macedonia. Paul and Silas were preaching in the streets the good news of the death burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. But it wasn’t until Paul loosed a ‘spirit of divination’ from a woman possessed that things got ugly. Those whose income depended upon this ‘psychic’ stirred up the Jews and Romans in the city, and sent the magistrates after Paul and Silas. And without even hearing a word in defense commanded to have them beaten. They laid many stripes on Paul and Silas then threw them in jail. Not just in jail, locked in stocks and sent to the innermost cell in the dark. (Acts 16:16-24)

But did they cry, or curse or moan in anguish or pain? Did they complain or protest or condemn their abusers or jailers?  No. They rejoiced. They sang hymns and cried out praises to Jesus. Paul as joyful as he was may have even explained salvation in his selections of song and praise. Everyone in the jail: other prisoners, guards, jailers all heard the joy and enthusiasm that lasted well past midnight. (Acts 16:25)

Then it happened. The singing was interrupted by an earthquake that shook the whole jail apart, loosened bars and stocks and gates. The jailer who was about to lose his life with the escape of these prisoners prepared to take his own life when Paul called out to cease. He told the jailer they were all there that none had fled. (Acts 16:27)

It was then that the jailer could “see,” Paul’s praise and his peace. He heard salvation with his ears and saw love and peace that transcended pain and placement. He dropped at Paul’s feet and wept “What must I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:29-30).

The jailer and “his whole household” heard the gospel message after that and were saved and baptized. Because he “saw” the reality of it in Paul, and feared. There is much more to this story; the magistrates feared as well, and it would be great if you could read this with spiritual vision and see as I did, how some “show praise and song” with much more than their voice. 

I would hope, like David, many could one day say of me, there was a new song in his mouth, even praise. I saw it. I trembled and then called on the Lord. That is the greatest thing one could do, show a real Jesus so clearly that others can see him in your praise and call after him. 

Gratitude

“Many, O LORD my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee: if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.” Psalm 40:5

God does so many wonderful works in my life, I barely recognize them sometimes. In the last week here in Central West Virginia we have had nothing if not abundant sunshine. It did rain and we needed it. But rain came only in the middle of the night. I can’t remember a time I ever thanked him for perfect weather. It is a wonderful work and a gift. Often, David says, we don’t even know the things he blessed us with today. He turned a drunk driver down another road before he encountered one of my family members. An inconvenient delay we want to moan about might be the very moment he led us away from a tragic event or purposely into the path of another he needed us to meet. And then there are those things we are aware of: things we know He did for us. If we contemplate them, thanking Him for everything that occurs to us today: our salvation, the salvation of our spouse and children, grandchildren and great grandchildren (for me this is 50+) naming each, them moving on to our health, our home, our resources. I could be more than all day at this. David rightly said they are more than can be numbered. One last memory on this subject. In 1993 when daughter Lorna married Aaron Frye I bought a wedding gift for them from Pilgrim’s Progress in South Charleston. It was a book titled “10,000 Things to Thank God For.” It was the closest I could come to a similar book I read in the Marines in 1972. It was the four day Labor Day weekend and having drawn the short straw I was the only one on base at Camp LeJune North Carolina that weekend. Got kind of quiet. Lonely. Boring. Guarding the base alone. However there was an advantage. I had the keys to the kingdom. I let myself into the library and spent an hour or more “guarding” or better yet, “inspecting” row after row of books. I found one that fascinated me, and I ‘borrowed’ it for the remainder of the holiday. It was titled “5,000 Reasons to Thank God.”  Let me tell you, if I were wallowing in self pity, two pages in and I was suddenly grateful. It started out by saying that the first thing that separates man from his creator. The first thing to go is gratitude. Sometimes out of ignorance. Sometimes because we don’t want to retain him in our thoughts. The first page of 5,000 reasons read something like this:

“You had the wisdom to select this book. Second, you can read. Third you can understand what you are reading. You are intelligent, educated and share a small amount of wisdom. Fourth I suspect you were aided by a living mother who gave birth to you. Fifth you had a loving father as well. Just as sixth there is a loving God who is directing you to this now. Seventh you likely had a teacher, who with your parents taught you to read. You have, if all this is true, or just most of it, beaten the odds for most of the world. More than half the world cannot read, some forbidden too. They don’t have the freedom to read or inquire about a living God. Governments separate children early and use them as labor or to supplement armies. And we haven’t even identified freedoms you have to read, to select, to follow or not. Page One. You have much to thank God for already. Please take a moment to put this book down. And Thank Him.” I Have never forgotten the book that got me through a holiday weekend with such joy. Got it back to the library. Never saw it again. Made me grateful. David was right. Our blessings are more than can be numbered. By the way in the book I gave Lorna the last line reads: “It has probably already occurred to you that there are more than 10,000 more reasons to thank God. I don’t need to list them hereafter. Thank Him as they come to you.”

No longer stuck in a rut

“He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.” Psalm 40:2

Have you ever seen West Virginia clay? When wet it looks mild to nearly fully red and kind of like glue. It sticks to everything. Rather it sticks you to everything. It makes even the best tires spin or get stuck. Even a brief rain can turn a short piece of road into a navigational horror. That is what miry clay is. Clay that sticks you to the ground and makes it difficult to even raise your legs. 

I have never been in a horrible pit. Joseph was. I’m sure he was terrified down there in the dark perhaps listening to what his angry brothers intended to do with him. I’m sure he prayed fervently. (Genesis 37:24-28) 

Daniel knew. He was thrown into a lion’s den. (Daniel 16:6) Can that get any more horrible than that? Well maybe. Friends of Daniel: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, were cast into a firey furnace, and with courage and conviction spoke these words: “If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” Daniel 3:17-18. 

King David had been in a horrible pit many times in his life. He pulled a lamb out of a bear’s mouth (1 Samuel 17:34-36). Nothing stood between him and the giant Goliath except Goliath’s armor and some rocks, gravel and rubble (1 Samuel 17:45). He was hiding in the very same cave where Saul his father-in-law stopped to use the bathroom as he and his army sought to find and kill David in the wilderness (1 Samuel 24:2-8). There were other pits too. The death of his first son Absolom who tried to tear his kingdom from him (2 Samuel 18:33) ; the death of his first son with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 12: 16-17).  

I have had horrible pits in my life.  Some of my own designing and digging. And for years I was stuck in a miry rut trying over and over again to do things MY WAY and questioning why He wasn’t helping me do what was right. I am so ashamed of myself for that now. As I turned that around and sought after Him and His way, He lifted me out and set me upon the ROCK Jesus and led me down a new path. Why?  Because after decades of failure I finally did this:

Call upon the Lord

(To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.) “I waited patiently for the LORD; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.” Psalm 40:1

The hardest thing in the world to do is wait. So. I wasn’t waiting. Instead I spent hours reading the Bible (especially directed by aquaintences who know what they were doing) I started attending church and praying even as I let go of trying to control everyone and every thing in my life.

One night after midnight while jogging between the Elkhurst Bridge and Hartland. I collapsed on the ground. All I could do for the longest time was weep. I was crying out to Jesus and yet I couldn’t even articulate what I wanted. I had been saved as a child but in the intervening years had not only had I stepped out of fellowship but had seized control of every aspect of my life, directing it as I saw morally fit. Here I was a humbled heap. Weeping. Calling out for help. He heard me. As I gained strength to stand and cross the bridge and jog back home, everything was different. Beginning thereafter miraculous things began to happen to me and members of my family and I wasn’t even involved in their occurance. I was no longer the controller. Instead I learned to be grateful. Beginning with my wife, who saw a peace in me, wondered what it was. I gave her a copy of the Gospel of John. She called me later that night to say she had decided to set down the bottle for good (she was self treating bipolar with alcohol and drugs). A few days later she told me she had seen Pastor Ralph Davis and said she was going to his church Trinity Missionary Baptist Church in Maysel Sunday and would I come with her. I had been going to a church in Elkhurst close to home, but I said ‘Yes’ and took our children with us. Joyce and my two daughters got saved that day and eventually so would our boys. We were all baptized together as a family in ice cold water (the baptismal had forgotten to be heated) on January 9, 1993 by Pastor Ralph Davis. Life for our family and the three generations that followed, changed forever. Joyce had initiated an avalanche that swept our entire family into salvation. He heard my cry. He heard hers too. Joyce sought treatment for bipolar and did very well to manage it for the next 29 years until her death. She never picked up a bottle again to self treat, just as she said she wouldn’t. The Holy Spirit worked mightily in her. And he continues to bless me.

Gratitude in Practice

“Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire; mine ears hast thou opened: burnt offering and sin offering hast thou not required.” Psalm 40:6

King David recognized that those things we traditionally expect God wants from us falls way short of what He wants. You know many people think they ‘sacrifice’ if they show up in a church for a few hours. Sacrifice their time, their sleep even their money if they fork over a few bucks. What arrogance. They don’t know the sabbath  was created for their benefit. That the time they spend in church gives them fuel and more to survive out in the world. I have an article on this blog site WHY REAL CHRISTIANS MUST ATTEND CHURCH and I will not relitigate it here (look it up and read it) 

Paul in Hebrews tells us God covets our praise. “By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.” Hebrews 13:15.  God tells us over in Psalms: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” Psalms 51:17.  “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” Psalms 34:18. Even Isaiah says God resists the lofty but saves the humble and contrite (57:15).  Praise him. Thank him daily. Now that is real sacrifice if sincerely meant. 

King David also spoke on the need and joy of going to the House of the Lord (Psalms 122:1). I myself am pulled there every Sunday. Why?  Gratitude in action. After all he blesses me with, how could I not show up to worship him. To learn what he wants me to learn, be fed spiritual food and find encouragement from my church family or offer love and hope in times of joy or great sadness. You cannot out give God. First: He gave the only sacrifice that counts. He accepted the blood of His only son as the ultimate sacrifice that ANY who would believe on him might have eternal life. (John 3:16).  Trust him. And you too will be blessed. 

Change your world view

“Blessed is that man that maketh the LORD his trust, and respecteth not the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies.” Psalms 40:4

I am a blessed man. I trust in the Lord. He sustains me even in adversity, trials or journeys through the Valley of Death. Some trust in the government. Some trust in education. Some trust in scientific unproven theories. Some trust only in themselves. All these worldviews, God laughs at. He proves them all false ‘lies’; some already, others in times to come as man learns more and more about things he thought once was true. (Psalms 2:4, 59:8, Proverbs 1:26).  If you are not being blessed: reconsider your worldview. Trust ONLY in him. 

Pass it along

Joyce’s 2022 Journey

Pass it along

At 1:02 am on December 10, 2022, two days after posting this blog, Joyce Stuber went home to glory. Right now she is kicking up gold dust in heaven in what is probably her greatest time. Whole. For the first time in her eternal life not suffering any physical or mental limitations.  Free. REALLY free. I may be sad but cannot be unhappy for her. The day she went to the alter in 1992 and dragged Lorna and Leona with her, she started an avalanche that would transform not just one, but two, maybe three generations of our family for eternity. 


Joyce’s story

It is probably time I write this story. I haven’t posted any blog in some time. I have been distracted by a medical crisis that my wife has been suffering through, pretty much all year. Even as I write this my wife is trying to recover from two emergency left side brain operations. 24 hours and only no purposeful movement or response. But then her head is still swelled from traumatic surgery. I am patiently waiting.

If anyone can survive brain surgery it is Joyce. May 6, 2003 Joyce had a brain tumor removed from her right temple. Spent two weeks in a coma and bounced back better than ever. I have seen so many miracles with this woman I don’t have enough fingers and toes (or even body parts) to list them all. I am also mindful that I must temper what I write so if she suddenly regains awareness and reads what I have written , if it is embarrassing or too personal she will kick my butt and give me and the world an earful. If there is anything YOU can do it is pray. Join an army of prayer warriors. 

How this all started

Joyce had been coughing all winter, living on cough drops. Her primary doctor sent her to a Pulmonologist Morgan Meeks who could find nothing. Except. She had unusually high eosinophils. Those are specialized white blood cells that go after allergens. She tested her for every allergy and could find nothing. Meantime, a heart doctor was consulted. Dr. Mitchel Rashid did a heart cath and said she was pretty good except the finest blood vessels around her heart where veins met arteries (capillaries) were partly blocked so he put her on a mild nitrate to unblock them. A few months later on May 5th they called her into his office for an echo with Doppler. She told me as we were leaving that they literally called every tech, nurse and person in to see it since “they had only seen this in text books.”  When she asked what was going on she was told: “Liability. We can’t say. But your doctor will call you when he sees this.”  (Note: He never did call). We left his South Charleston office directly to our youngest daughter, Leona’s house in Beckley. That was May 5th. Joyce was to stay at her house feed dogs and cats while their whole family left for Virginia Beach.  That was a Friday and I was to return to Clay County and work Monday thru Wednesday and then join her. She had breathing problems and was so weak she was mostly bed ridden that weekend, and the entire week, really. I stayed the week to feed animals. She refused to see doctor using her nebulizer when it was hard for her to breathe. I told her I would just wait till she passed out and call an ambulance. Leona was due back Saturday but I finally talked her into going to Med Express a few miles from Leona’s house on Friday the 13th. Andrew had arrived home early as we were headed out. I got her there and asked for help getting her in. She needed a wheel chair. She never made it in the door. As I was filling out paperwork, they checked her oxygen which was 22% and called an ambulance. When it arrived I was asked this question: Raleigh General or Beckley Appalachia Regional Hospital? I asked which is closer to here?  BAR-H. So we went. It was 5 miles from Leona’s house. 

The BAR-H Experience

Friday the Thirteenth in the ER. Do I have to say more?  There were eight guernies ahead of us in the hallway waiting to get admitted to ER. It was a five hour wait. Once we got in the ER they did a chest x-ray and put her on oxygen. Then another four hour wait. As a nurse came by I asked about the doctor and the x-ray. I had seen the x-ray as they took it. Many big white blotches all connected with what looked like spider-webs. Nurse said, “The doctor is on his way and has seen the x-ray. It looks like Covid.” My heart sank. Seemed like a death sentance for a woman who had refused the Covid vaccines and had survived Covid twice in 2021. Two hours later the doctor arrived. “We are admitting her,” he said. “Covid?” I asked. “No.” He said, “Double pneumonia. She is lucky to just be alive.” After 12 and a half hours after arriving at the ER, Joyce was admitted.

It was touch and go the next two days. On Monday, with Leona back, they decided to drain out fluid from under her lung. 600 ml under one lung. 400 under the other.

600 ml of fluid under only one lung.

They also gave her a heart echo and advised us they found a blood clot in her heart. This was the anomoly they found in Rashid’s office. He had never called us. We asked the hospital to call him. They said they tried, wanting records. Maybe I could. I did. Ended up arguing with a ‘Kim’ about the urgency of having Rashid call us back. He never did. She spent 15 days at BAR-H recovering from Double Pneumonia mostly on steroids and anti-biotics.

They released her to Leona’s house five miles away. She was so weak from loss of muscle tone we had to lift her off the bed and help her walk to the bathroom. Yet she refused physical therapy coming to see her. She insisted she would do this on her own. We scheduled appointments a week from release with both Meeks and Rashid. We requested both get her BAR-H hospital records prior to us seeing them. Joyce was stepped down from antibiotics and steroids. That was a mistake as you will see. She was sent home on oxygen. 

The interim doctor experiences

We saw Meeks first. She, we discovered, is only a PA working for what doctor we never knew. She still could not explain the super high eosinophils but wanted to do a ‘parasite’ blood test. We did the blood test. Next day we saw Rashid. Correction. We saw his PA Holly. Apparently Rashid was too busy to see a heart clot patient recently released from the hospital. They had neglected to request records so I gave a verbal account. She scheduled a ‘tele-med’ appointment with herself for a month away. 

The CAMC Memorial Hospital experience

Exactly a week later Leona rushes her mother who can’t breathe back to the ER. But this time to CAMC Memorial in Charleston, Joyce’s hospital, where all six of her doctors, including her primary doctor all practice. In the ER they would lose her oxygen tank and it would be a week before I could recover it. She had double pneumonia again. In the ER where I met her doctors, one of them (staff called an odd duck) was a young doctor Moorehead. He said: “I know what this is. West Virginia doctors have never seen this. It’s very rare. Hypereosinophilic Syndrome.”  He had checked Meeks parasite test which was negative. Rare indeed. Only 1 percent of 1 percent of the world ever get this. The eosinophils when they don’t find allergens can attack blood vessels (like capillaries around her heart) the lungs (like infecting tissue causing double pneumonia) and the heart (creating a blood clot in the heart). If it goes on to the gastric and stomach it is too late and you can die. Luckily it had not gotten to that stage. He had trouble convincing others but they consented to his suggested treatment: the ‘atomic bomb’ of steroids. 125 mg three times a day for five days. It did the job. Killed out all the eosinophils. But. She went scitzophrenic and paranoid. She would have lucid waking dreams of a war going on outside. She would see nurses attacked and killed in the hallways. She would see dogs and cats wandering about. It took six nurses to hold her down to knock her out so they could put her on a ventilator and keep her unconscious for the four remaining days on the steroid ‘bomb’.

The 10 million dollar woman (6 million adjusted for inflation.) has at least 10 monitors in this photo.

She had three teams: three pulmonologists; three hematologists and three heart doctors and the only thing they could agree on is that she was doing better on steroids by killing out the eosinophils. Nine doctors could not agree that it was Hypereosinophilic Syndrome.  I saw the clot now a second time. Heart doctors there put her on Eloquis a blood thinner to mitigate its growth. It was bigger and clinging to the side of the heart chamber. All nine agreed to this: transferring her to Ruby Memorial in Morgantown where they could confirm the rare illness with a heart biopsy. So after fifteen days they packed her up and sent her to Morgantown. During her first Charleston stay I slept on a long bench in the Surgical ICU waiting room. This would change. 

The Ruby Memorial Hospital Experience

Ruby Memorial had asked for her to be transferred so when we got there and spent the first couple of days in Surgical ICU I asked the heart team when they would do the heart biopsy to confirm the Hypereosinophilic Syndrome. The lead heart doctor laughed, “Lord no. We know the diagnosis is correct. We have seen all the echos and the MRI. We have seen the steroids do the job. We don’t need a biopsy to confirm. But we are glad you are here with this very rare clot so we can use this to teach a whole lot of young doctors.” Again she had a team of three heart doctors, three blood doctors and three lung doctors. It is impossible to get nine people to fully agree on anything. They added a tenth doctor: Dr. Pepper. Seriously. He was an immunologist and his job to keep eosinophils out of her body by a combination of adjusting steroids down and adding a Nucala infusion. (Upon her release she would get this infusion on the sixteenth of every month up to the present time at Summersville.) Over the next seventeen days she would be seen by multiple ‘classes’ during rounds. I signed permission for them to use these images and data in future classrooms. The blood team wanted to rule out a rare cancer so they did a bone biopsy on her hip. The poor Asian doctor had to almost stand on her to penetrate the bone. No osteoporosis in this woman. Her bones are STRONG. No bone cancer. Meantime I had arranged to stay at the hospitality house at the hospital. My church picked up the small nightly Rosenbaum House fee for which I am grateful. No sleeping in the car this time. Doctors took Joyce off Eloquis and had her on a blood thinner Heparin but transitioned her over to Warfarin (cummoden) before release. They said it had ‘more successful data’ than Eloquis. They also gave us Lovenox injections to inject into her stomach twice a day. They released her back to Leona’s because it was five miles from an emergency hospital. Our home in Clay County was 65 miles from a hospital. She was in danger of bleeding with a fall. And she was weaker than ever now. 

Life away from her own home

She insisted upon getting up on her own to go to the bathroom but we wouldn’t let her. She was too week. But in the middle of the night if we weren’t watching she did anyway. One night she got up and after using the bathroom fell and banged her head and ribs on the bath tub. The next day we took her to the ER to get checked. Bruised but fine. Her right eye looked awful. She fell a number of times after, but on soft carpet or furniture. She insisted on going home. She loved her grandkids but activity was too much for her. Besides she missed her dogs. But my greatest fear is that she would get cut and bleed out (she was on cummoden a strong blood thinner) or have a possible stroke if a piece of the clot broke off and migrated to lung, a limb or brain. And if so, we would be 65 miles from a hospital in a place where Clay County ambulances are undependable. The day our tallest son Greg died in April 2020, both Brandy his wife and I called the ambulance and it took them 90 minutes to come seven miles. I didn’t want Joyce to die waiting on an ambulance. 

A test of fath: the REAL test

Youngest daughter Leona had a serious conversation with me about faith. If you took mama home, do you think God would just kill her? Of course not. You do think He is sustaining her even now? Yes. Well, take mama home. If the worst happens He will allow her to survive it. So I took mama home. Our youngest son, Chris and wife Melanie were staying at our property (in a camper they had moved in) feeding our dogs, their dogs, mama’s cats, Guinea pigs, two goats and 13 chickens in our absence. They weren’t really responsible for keeping our place clean and tidy and with our dogs in charge of our bedroom it looked like dogs were in charge. So upon our arrival mama, weak and frail started cleaning the house. I was muscle and gofer, moving furniture so she could sweep out under. We did three rooms. By the third day I was exhausted. When Sunday came up I told her I hadn’t been to church since this began so I wanted to attend. I gave her breakfast turned on tv, and asked her to stay in bed till I got back. 

The worst realized

Little more than an hour later I got a text as the preaher began his sermon from my son Chris. “Joyce fell. Think she’s having a stroke. Arm curled and talking funny . . .” I left church immediately and drove home as fast as I could.

On the way I called Chris and asked him to call an ambulance. He said he tried and couldn’t get through. So I called. “I’m sorry.” The young male dispatcher said, “There are no ambulances in Clay County right now.” My worst fear was realized. “I can call one out of Kanawha County.” I said do it, I can meet them on I-79 at Clendenin.  Once home Chris helped me lift her dead weight into the passenger seat and I flew as fast as possible through Elkhurst, through Clay, through Maysel and up Route 36 to I-79. I was approaching the Clendenin exit when I got a call back from the dispatcher. “Kanawha Ambulance is preparing to leave now. It will take them an hour.” I screamed back at him. An hour? I’m at Clendenin. I will be at the hospital in about 15 minutes. He said I will cancel the call just get her in. I did. My fastest time ever I arrived within the hour of placing the call to Clay Ambulance. I must have been doing more than ninety and I was hoping someone would stop me. I wanted an escort. When I pulled up to the door at CAMC Memorial ER a nurse who met me said “This woman is having a stroke. Where did you come from?” I said Clay County. She asked angrily: “Why didn’t you call an ambulance?” As much as I wanted to berate her, I let that go. Within 20 minutes without giving her anything (they couldn’t: she was on blood thinners) she started improving. She got some strength in her right leg. Her face improved a little and we could understand as she talked. Of course they admitted her and sent her upstairs. Back to Surgery ICU. However I learned quickly I could not sleep inside the building, let alone in the waiting room. A resurgence of Covid this spring had forced new policies for summer. At first I was sleeping in my car but one of the Social Workers found me accommodations at the local Hospitality House. My church again was willing to step up and help me, but the facility waived the fee, bless them. 

A shocking image of old glory

I was aware that Dr. Lauren Searls was Joyce’s primary doctor at the Med clinic I always took her to see her at this hospital. But Searls is a resident. Joyce’s primary doctor (according to her insurance) is Dr. Andrea Stark. I met her for the first time at Joyce’s bedside as she took the helm of the team assigned to her. Joyce had a number of bleeds in her brain due to the stroke. They had to take her off blood thinners for five days while they waited for bleeding to stop. Those five days in July were intense as we were aware more strokes could happen. Basically they did nothing but wait. Well. That is not exactly true. She continued to show improvement from stroke damages. All but her right arm eventually. The third day there they sent in a young tech who had a portable Echo Imager with Doppler. As he looked at her heart, we watched the screen. What I saw was shocking. Images I saw before were of a big clot, but it always clung solidly to the wall of the upper left ventricular. Now, not only was it bigger, but it stuck out from the wall of her heart, and like a ‘ragged old-glory flag’ was waving in the chamber with every beat of her heart. The shredded stripes moving about on their own hanging tenuously as if they could break off at any moment. He was stunned and looked over at us. I told him, we knew about the clot since May. He was relieved. But this was NEW so we were stunned. It certainly explained the stroke. Some of the fringes had broken off and went to her brain. And could happen again. Actually it did, while she was hospitalized, and during a time when she was therapeutically on cummoden. After five days and the brain bleed had stopped, they first put her back on Heparin, and doing regular CT’s to see if brain was bleeding.

Shortly after she was on cummoden and at perfect range when she had a clot move to her thigh and cut off blood to her leg. They did emergency surgery to remove clot and save her leg. But we were at square one again. The only thing left to try was Pradaxa. They needed at least two doses in her before they could release her. Again with no guarantees she wouldn’t throw another clot somewhere. I remember the day well. I sat on the edge of Joyce’s hospital bed and Dr. Stark sat with me. She told me it would take six months to see the effectiveness of Pradaxa. I asked what are her odds of surviving six months. She said: “15 percent”. I said that is not good. She said, “You said you had an army of prayer warriors praying for her and it has worked so far. Count me in. I will be praying too.” She released us and we went back home. 

Granddaughter Annabelle does mamaw’s nails during a visit to see Joyce after her stroke. This is her unaffected left arm. Already her face was improving from the droop.

Learning a new way of life

I was chief cook and  bottle-washer, as well as butler, servant and perpetual company. And sometimes I had to do this while being berated. You see, Joyce had been manic depressive (bipolar) most of her life and managed well on Prozac. However the playbook went out the window after the stroke. She was mostly stuck in a manic (angry) phase. Occasionally this was a mixed phase as she would transition quickly to depression and remorse. It would take months to readjust her meds out of this and make her more even keeled. In the meantime she had a huge fall. And while I tried to get her seen upstairs for this by Dr. Searls, when she saw her she sent her downstairs to the ER there at Memorial. There she spent three days before being admitted and ‘watched.’ The bumps on her head were severe but ultimately did no damage. They did this out of an abundance of caution. Her fifth admittance was only five days in length there in September. She was sent home. 

Finally hope restored

I had a one day surgery of my own having a spinal stimulator put in my spine, courtesy of the VA but surgery performed at Spine and Nerve center in Charleston. Finally I could do all this work mostly pain free. Later I would confirm with my own visit to the CAMC ER I had a hernia on my right side. I had first reported this to my VA doctor last spring. But he told me I did not. The VA Hospital arranged for CAMC Memorial physician Dr. Walker to see me on December 13. Joyce had an Echo with Doppler on October 20 that Holly at Rashid’s office had set up. So we went to CAMC Memorial Cardio Imaging and they did the echo. Eleven days later in Rashid’s office he himself told us the heart clot was gone. We were elated and told all the family the good news. 

Why the setback? 

But eight days later Joyce’s eyes went cross-eyed one morning. She couldn’t focus and it made her dizzy and nauseous. We took her to the local Primary Care but they urged us to go to Charleston and the emergency room.

One eye looks to the right as requested. The left eye cannot and is stuck. This photo helped Doctors diagnose a stroke

We did. We were expecting an eye doctor. We got a whole trauma team. This was in fact another stroke. The eye righted itself but she was admitted where we discovered in a new Echo with Doppler that not only was the clot not gone, it was three times the original size. The November 8 event saved her life. We would have been ignorant of this till it killed her. She was they said, weeks away from a heart attack or congestive heart failure. Worse. Pradaxa the last miracle blood thinner failed her. Now, we were told that the same risky operation they were unwilling to do in August was her only chance of survival. Open heart surgery. She told doctor Kister yes. But a little more than an hour later another surgeon introduced himself, Dr. Alwair. He said he had a casual conversation about this surgery with Kister and had a different proposal: minimally invasive surgery going in from the side between ribs and he is right there at the top left ventricular. A small slice and can scoop the bulk of it out. Again she said yes. He said we need to get past three weeks ( November 29) from the stroke and would like to do surgery first week of December. To go past that was dangerous every day we delayed. But between the 14th and the twenty-ninth we had a Thanksgiving Day holiday. Suffice it to say (without assigning blame to names) people directly involved with applying to insurance and then scheduling surgery dropped the ball.  No surgery was scheduled.

Straw that broke the camel’s back

The first weekend in December Joyce was both nauseous and had a massive headache. Monday December 5 it was all I could do to get her to the car by 9:00 am and grab my go bag and head to the CAMC Memorial ER. There again they said this was a stroke was largely unresponsive and transfered her to CAMC General to their Neurological Surgery department. She was immediately admitted. I slept in the car that night just outside in the parking building. Glad I did. I got the call at 2:16 am on Tuesday morning to come back inside.

Just before surgery Joyce was ventilated and could only squeeze my hand as a response.

I met a Nerosurgeon Dr. Orphanus who told me they needed to do emergency brain surgery on her left temple to take the pressure off her brain. He described everything I could expect in twenty minutes and I signed consent papers. Apparently it was not due to a stroke or fall but a weak blood vessel that burst. This aneurism is what caused the bleed and pressure. Likely her own blood thinners were the cause. We may never know. At 2:44 am they took her into surgery. It was the last time she would squeeze my hand after I squeezed hers. She was ventilated and could not speak. I waited in the waiting area. And he came out at 4:30 saying he did not leave a flap (a piece of bone out of the skull). He was hoping this would do. I got to spend 15 minutes with her before I had to go back to the car and sleep. At 11 when visitation resumed I was there. She looked worse. Swollen. And some of her wound was bleeding. I asked the nurse to ask her neurosurgeon if this was normal. They sent a Neuro PA who once she saw it called in Doctor Orphanus. He decided to take her first to CT than surgery where he did the operation again about twelve hours after the first. We had a long talk after about managing expectation for someone her age. Afterwards there was little response so I left her room early to sleep. I got there early on Wednesday December 7 and was told that new CT is good. Brain has expanded back. Worst source of blood was blocked. Neuro pathways are open and no pressure on the brain brain. He had left a flap this time and while she still looked swollen she should be getting conscious. Again how much she will gain back is the question. And, how soon. By the end of the day I got no response. No finger squeeze. Not a rise in blood pressure. Nothing. Only God knows if she is just taking a break or preparing to go home. Emotionally I am all over the map, but I am not hopeless. I have seen her turn around in situations as bad as this. 

I am not in charge

Finally got a call from Dr. Alwair, her heart surgeon this morning. Says he has been following the case. Says heart surgery is off the table unless there is a miraculous recovery soon. He confessed he was dreading the surgery before because he imagined the surgery would have put her in the position she is in now. He does not expect her to recover. Her doctor say by Monday they have to remove ventilator and want to know if they can put a feeder in her stomach and an air vent in her throat. I will need to have an answer by Friday. But we had this prior discussion, Joyce and I: she did not want to live as a vegetable. We are following the Lord’s plan. I know this: he is doing what is best for her. As I write this December 8, 2022 there is still time. Still hope. And I wait. And I will see if she goes home with me, or home with Greg. We had discussed this many times, Joyce and I. Either way is a win-win for her. And that makes me smile. 

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Top 10 Reasons Why Real Christians MUST Faithfully Attend Church

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Let’s work backwards from the least to the most important.

But first this disclaimer: there are not just 10 reasons. This is but the tip of a great big ice burg hiding away from the secular world.

10. Join the club

Christ is the only Son of God, but He was not alone. He was not the Lone Ranger. He surrounded Himself with not just twelve apostles but literally hundreds of disciples. He positioned himself to speak to thousands at a time. And made sure the inner circle learned and remembered everything important. Christ first created the word “Church.” He said it would be built upon His foundation. The Apostle Paul further explained that the church was ‘people’ connected to one another like bricks. In another place he likened church to a body with people representing various members and parts. One whole; many members. Christ was not separate from it. He was the head. So, let’s say for argument sake, as a fellow Christian that you are a pinky finger on the right hand. Are you of any use to Christ, to God, if you are lying on the ground in the backyard, while the other hand is wrapping a bandage on the wound where you should be? God never compares us to bees where unthinking hive creatures are manipulated by a queen to go out and accomplish various predetermined tasks. The queen bee does not love her workers and expects that many will simply die off and never return. Your God created you with love, loves you still, and allows you free will to make your own choices. But you are a finger not a bee. But you are of no use to Him separated from his body. You’d not be a Christian member. You’d be a dead used-to-be finger of God.

9. One big happy family

Remember the Sabbath and to keep it Holy. That is the 3rd Commandment. One day a week set aside to rest and reflect on Him. But was this just for HIM? Or was the day set aside also for you? We know from both the old and new testaments that it was not done alone. First families and then congregations gathered together to share this rest and reflection. After all this was a God who created families because it is not good that man should be alone. As men began to share worship, He began to give them direction and comfort through His priests and prophets. The modern day equivalent of the prophet today is the pastor, preacher and evangelist that prepares and then delivers God’s word to us that edifies, encourages or convicts. Messages that stir or bring to remembrance our Lord and Savior. Why do we need this?

8. Spiritual checkup

While as Christians we are never to compare ourselves one to another. We are asked to measure ourself in God’s mirror: His commandments. Seeing our shortcoming there we seek salvation first, and after salvation, restoration of fellowship when our sins separate us. Our separation from other Christians can widen that gulf or worse: lead us into a false sense that we can be Christian ‘our way’ and often without having to face other Christians. Then, like the body with a member missing, how does a missing finger touch a brow? Christians need other Christians to comfort or be comforted. To chasten or to edify. To bless or be blessed. He uses our hands and hearts and the hands and hearts of others in our local church as HIS hands. We touch one another, being one body.

7. Safety in numbers

Animals all gather together in the presence of a predator. We call them herds. And while predators do kill animas out of herds, think how many animals would be vulnerable if they travelled alone. Even lions, tigers and bears don’t go it alone. Why wouldn’t you ally your self with people of like interest? Especially in a world where old fashioned ideas like love, fidelity, forgiveness and family seem to be at odds with the culture. The first ‘church’ at Christ’s resurrection all worshiped of ‘one accord’ and with that kind of love and like-mindedness accomplished many, many miracles. God is still in the miracle business for anyone still willing to gather in His name in one accord.

6. Safety in understanding

Cults are created by the absence of the daily-checked but non-evolving, forever settled written word of God. Agnostics, doubters and atheists are more often created by unenlightened readers of scripture without the Holy Spirit trying to discern spiritual things. Churches have been splitting for centuries over slights, or evolving mistranslations. Some more liberal churches use cultural mores no longer even preaching from the inspired word of God. A good bible-believing, whole word preaching church is a Christian’s only defense for keeping his own spirit and those of his family clean from the influences of this world.

5. Faith is contagious by contact

Many children of the sixties, who stopped reading bible stories or praying when these things were taken out of public schools, never sent their own children to church. We have four and five generations now removed from God. If you are a Christian with children who does not attend church you are showing them just how unimportant Christ is in your life. I can look back to a time before I was a Christian and remember sitting in a pew with my father and mother. I remembered the seriousness, the occasional furrowed brow, even a few tears. These are as vivid to me today as the moment I saw them. Even before I accepted Christ in my life I KNEW there was a real God. I witnessed Him served. Why should your children ever bow before a God you won’t even leave the house once a week to go hear about. Why would they want too? He will be as real to them as Santa and the Easter bunny. And they did go see them once a year until they knew they weren’t real either.

4. Peace that passes all understanding and a dozen more almost unbelievable benefits.

Those stay-at-home Christians who rarely, if ever attend church, don’t even know what it is they are missing. Mostly because they find it hard to believe. They are saved. Lately they wonder about that too. They live defeated lives. Wondering, worrying, hoping, doubting, fighting, crying and pleading with no power behind their prayers. They see faithful attending worshipers and wonder why they can’t get that peace that happiness they see. They wonder if it is an act, or worse, a delusion. How can anyone be that patient, that joyful that trusting that God has everything in control? They’ve gone a couple times, suffered through. How many times does it take? Then. Like a sudden summer rain, or a sheet ice wall suddenly crashing down, it happens. The eyes see. The heart opens. Things that seemed non-existent are now daily mini-miracles. Faith builds upon faith. Why wasn’t I living like this before? Abundantly. My cup running over.

3. Peter, Paul and all the apostles, and past prophets say so.

Forsaking not the assembly of one another. And the more so as THAT day approaches. Yes. That day. The day when everything is done. For some that was yesterday. For some tomorrow. And a few of us Christians will be here when Christ raptures his church away. Every major and minor prophet and every writer of the New Testament has suggested more than a ‘casual’ assembling of the congregation during our brief lifetime. Don’t treat their word casually.

2. Jesus says so.

If Christ says so, do we actually need more reasons than this? And He did spell it out a number of times. But the number one reason is:

1. God says so. (Commandments 1, 2 and especially #3)

God not only says this many, many times, He speaks this through His prophets, His patriarchs, His priests, His apostles and through His only begotten Son. Given the gravity of all of this: if you really ARE His, shouldn’t you absolutely be obeying His instruction to be in church?

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Happy Birthday Bertha Elizabeth Brown

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imageimageOn November 2nd of this year my mother-in-law Bertha Elizabeth Brown, had she lived, would be turning 86 years old. I miss her. I’m sure my wife misses her even more.

We’ve heard them. The crass jokes about the mother-in-law. I don’t participate. While I didn’t always agree 100% with everything my mother-in-law did, I loved her like I would my own mother. That was easy, she treated me like her son. She is gone now, and at the time, I couldn’t see what appears to me now: the resemblance to her youngest daughter, my wife, Joyce.

Welcome to the family

imageI was just Joyce’s pen pal when I dropped in to meet her that first week in November 1973. I didn’t know it at the time but two days before I met Bertha she turned 44. She was born in the same year as my father. When I met her it was with a smile. Her and her husband liked me from the moment I met them. They liked the idea that I loved their youngest daughter and treated her with respect: we had been pen pals for two years.

imageIn fact that next morning her husband and oldest son would invite me to help them butcher a hog, an event that would involve the whole family and end that second night in a family meal. Since that day, they treated me as if I were already part of the family.

Part of the Blackfoot tribe

If there is any American Indian in my mother-in-law it is remote. But she and my wife do share one trait: going barefoot winter and summer. My mother-in-law taught my wife to use her toes like fingers. Not only can she pick up marbles and coins. She can pinch hard enough with her toes to leave a bruise. They both wore callouses on their feet which seemed always black with usage. Not that they kept dirty feet, but going without shoes, you pick up dirt all day.

Joyce and her sister, her Aunt and three cousins all Sunday dressed. Can you spot Joyce, Bertha's youngest. (Hint: the child on the far right isn't wearing shoes)
Joyce and her sister, her Aunt and three cousins all Sunday dressed. Can you spot Joyce, Bertha’s youngest. (Hint: the child on the far right isn’t wearing shoes)

All of the photos I have of my wife as a child are without shoes, even when other children in the family wore shoes. The only photo I ever saw of my mother-in-law as a teen she was barefoot sitting on the hood of a truck. Since I came into her life when her daughter was a teen I have only seen her wear shoes (and some times these were flip flops) when she had to go to the doctor.

I’ll be alright

Another thing my mother-in-law, Bertha Brown, shared with my wife was her ability to be content in what ever state she found herself. That is not the same as saying she “settled” for whatever she got. She expected much. She just didn’t “fret or regret” if her expectations didn’t always meet her desires. In fact, I always thought she was too casual about some important things. A funny story I always tell is what would happen when she was sick. She went to the doctor frequently. Unless she was really sick. And if the effort to wash her feet and put on shoes seemed too much of an effort for her, she would say: “I’m too sick to go to the doctor.” Ironic. Yet, I have heard this a few times these past few years from her daughter. “I’ll be alright, she’d say. She wasn’t, but she would try to convince you she is.

The kids come first

If there was one area I strongly disagreed with Bertha, this was probably it. Maybe it’s a motherly thing. Maybe it’s a West Virginia thing as we tend to be clannish. In fact, I am a West Virginia resident because Joyce insisted that to marry her I would have to live close to her mom. These two women put the needs, desires and wants of their children over themselves (and their husbands). I might even observe that this goes down to grandchildren as well. Men have their place in the family; and an important one. But children, without the resources that their fathers have, need extra protection, attention and support that force mothers into the role of advocate. This can be hard when father’s expect discipline and mothers expect mercy. It is also hard when on birthdays and holidays, wives will accept no gifts of personal nature they can’t share equally among their children (or outright instantly re-gift to the children). These husbands must learn, giving generously to their children IS giving their wives what they desire most. This is a life-long, multi-generational commitment.

A funny thing happened on the way to eternity

Another thing I see in my wife came from her mother: her wit and her humor. Neither of them completed high school and all of their life labored under the illusion that they aren’t “smart” as others. Nothing could be further from the truth. Noting escapes their observation, and they were brutal with their wit, sometimes expressing itself as sarcasm, sometimes as irony or expressed as puns. This is not capable among morons or dim-wits but requires not only keen observation, mastery of language but creativity in its use. She was a very funny woman who brightened the life of those around her. She passed this on to her youngest daughter.

Graduate of the school of mountain engineering

Apparently Bertha came from a long-line of ‘make-doers’ that didn’t believe in honey-do lists. This too she passed on to her daughter who after her GED, graduated from the Bertha Brown school of mountain engineering. This is also why every West Virginia tool box contains duct tape, crazy glue, coat-hanger wire and ‘shootin’ wire.’ Other resources include cardboard, furring strips, wooden pallets, used nails, tacks and various pieces of plastic (black, clear) or blue tarp. With these resources, porches have been built and then converted to rooms and much, much more. Without the knowledge, consult or help of husbands who were away at work. They don’t just build rooms and furniture: they invent tools and completely new inventions that in a couple of years become indispensable constructs of convenience (sometimes needed by grown children who can’t live without them at their own places). Funny. If we were a family who wrote wills I could see some of these things contested by multiple multi-generation inheritors. I often wondered if this need to build is a ‘nesting’ instinct. And if it was, why the perpetual need to move furniture around? That would seem counter-effective and confusing among ‘nestlings.’ Unless it too is a perpetual need to either create or re-create. This too Joyce got from her mother.

From bread baker to bread winner

Bertha and Husband
Bertha and Husband

Bertha baked bread for every meal. Pan bread. No white sliced bread for this family. Not for family meals anyway. When she was young before marriage and children she had worked. Hard work without a high school education. She told a tale of getting her driver’s license using one of Bill Pearson’s log trucks. (Yes. She even parallel parked it). That was back when she was Bertha Bishop and one of the Bishop girls at Maysel. But she hadn’t worked since early in her marriage when her and her husband moved briefly to Buffalo, New York and worked the farming fields up there in the early 1960’s when the mines were closed. That was brief and they soon relocated back in Clay County, West Virginia where Jim took a job at the Wards coal mines at Elkhurst until they closed. He would spend nearly the next twenty years mining at Valley Camp Coal mines in Kanawha County as Bertha raised five children in their Blue Knob Road, Maysel, West Virginia home. But as her coal miner husband’s health began to decline, she began to take on more chores. In fact, his lung would collapse, and he would have surgery both on his lung and liver. He would never work in the mines again. While waiting on Black Lung Income that woukd take a long time to come, Bertha became breadwinner for the family. She took on a paper route for the state’s largest daily newspaper that would take her on a hundred mile daily round trip every day of the week. It was a family business. Her oldest son helped, my wife helped. Sometimes her other children helped as well.

Wearing a full cast
Wearing a full cast

After an auto accident left her mother with a broken leg, Joyce would take over the route for her for good until another accident several years later would force Joyce to give it up as well. Even as Bertha’s own health began to decline, she continued to head her household, even being full time mother to two of her own grandchildren and one of her great grandchildren. She always put the needs of others over her own.

The greatest thing a friend can do

imageIf there was one quality that my mother-in-law exuded more than any other it was family loyalty. As I said, she taught my wife to put kids first. She would not eat the last bite or take the last portion of anything. Sometimes she would not eat till everyone else at the table left with their fill; just in case she might incidentally eat something someone else needed. She was absolutely loyal to all she loved. She kept everyone’s secrets, good or bad; even from each other. She loved all of her family all of the time. She took the good, the bad, the worse and hid it in her heart; all of it like precious jewels locked away as a treasure. Sometimes I wonder if that was what shortened her life. I think now that we all should have carried more of her burdens and let her carry less of ours. Her disabled husband out lived her. Jesus said the greatest thing a friend could do was to lay down their life for their friends. By that measure we were more than sons, daughters, husband or grandchildren. We were her friends.

I will see her again

She was a saved woman, and thanks in great part to the efforts of my oldest daughter, so was her husband before his death. So I know I will join them someday in Heaven with my own parents. But on this, what would have been Bertha Brown’s 86th birthday, I want to say that she is still alive and well in her youngest daughter, Joyce Stuber, who continues to be more like her mother every day. Happy Birthday Bertha.

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This Thanksgiving Have a Treat You’ve Never Had!

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My grandfather remarried almost a year after his wife passed. Orthello Fout, my mother’s mother was my favorite grandmother. Maybe that is why I was biased against Gladys my new step-grandmother. Maybe because she divided my family. Maybe because I never knew a hypochondriac until then. But I will disparage her no more. She is long gone. But if there was one good thing she left in this life it is this: a Thanksgiving tradition that continues this day in my own family.

I love Thanksgiving. It is my favorite holiday, for many reasons: it’s about God, and gratitude and family. I often think it is the fulfillment of a commandment: remember the sabbath and keep it holy. You DO realize that commandment is about US and not Him. Our assembling before our Heavenly Father is about maintaining family. It was in the days of Moses. It is now. In a way it is reflected by another commandment: honor thy father and mother. We honor our Heavenly Father and it makes it easier to honor our earthly father and mother, then we pass this down to our children. The American tradition known as the Thanksgiving Holiday is the fulfillment of this. It is as much about us and our family as Him.

It is one of our national holidays still uncorrupted by commercialism. It is opportunity for reflection and family. And when you have six children who each have spouses and twenty three grandchildren and five great-grandchikdren, it can be a big event. Couple that with the fact that not only have I been bread-winner in my family but chief cook and bottle-washer.

Thus, for forty-three years I have been largely responsible for Thanksgiving dinner. Daughter-in-law Brandy is taking over that role. I am good. I do great gravy, better turkey and from real pumpkins eleven scratch pumpkin pies. But possibly the best thing I do on Thanksgiving is something I learned from Gladys: Incredible Roast Duck.

imageWhat follows is a non-typical recipe for roast duck. I searched the web for years to find something similar. I found nothing. So I offered one to the manufactures of Sno-floss Sauerkraut. They thanked me and may have published it last year. I offer it here. If you make this you will not be disappointed it is a real delight.

Incredible Thanksgiving Stuffed Duck

Ingredients

1 Duckling (thawed if frozen)
2-3 cups sauerkraut
1 cup sour red wine
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 – 1/2 cup sifted flour for gravy
Water as needed

Instructions

Set frozen duck in refrigerator overnight to thaw, or leave fresh duckling in refrigerator over-night.

Meantime, open 2-cans or one large bag of sauerkraut. These must be drained. But try to catch and reserve in a cup or jar, some of the liquid. Preserve this for the next day. Squeeze as much liquid as possible out of the kraut. Place the kraut in a deep bowl and fluff. Pour in up to a glass full of a dark red sour wine. Use whatever brand or type you may like. Or you can do what I do, since as a Christian I do not drink: show up at your local mart and buy something small and cheap. Locally, my local Rite-Aid Pharmacy sells cheap wine in a sealed bottle equalling a single glass full for $1.00. (This is for flavor not for drinking, cheap is fine). Cover the bowl and let the kraut marinate overnight.

Thaw duck and rinse thoroughly. Rub with salt inside and out as you would a turkey. You will need to place the duck breast up on a wire rack that will allow drippings to fall into the pan where they will not touch the duck. Duck generates a lot of fat while roasting. It is this natural oil and fat that makes a duck ‘waterproof’ living on the water all year.

imageDrain the bulk of the wine out of the kraut but do not squeeze. Reserve some of this liquid (like you did the kraut juice) for later. Put the thawed duck on the rack in the roaster, breast up and open the cavity (where the giblets were) and stuff full with the kraut. As you pack it tight, some of the wine/juice will leach into the bottom of the roaster where the fat will go. That is fine. Use tail, legs and twine if preferred to close cavity or just leave it open. Lightly dust the top of the duck with salt and pepper.

Set oven to 350. Cover roaster with a lid (or with aluminum foil) and place into the oven for at least an hour. Ducks, like turkey are roasted by weight. The bigger they are the longer they roast. After the first hour, check. If using a lid, replace. If using foil, loosen and recover but leave loose at edges.

By this time the smell will be making everyone in the house hungry. Even those who won’t touch wine, or say they hate kraut will ask, “What smells so good?” Use a meat thermometer or, for us old-school cooks, keep checking for doneness. As that time approaches, remove the lid or foil so that the top of the bird can brown. It is fine if some of the exposed kraut darkens or even crisps. Continue to brown duck and check for doneness.

Lift the rack out of the roaster and place on a serving plate. The oil and wine in the bottom of the pan will contain too much fat to use for gravy. So most of this will be poured out and discarded.

imageRemember fat floats to the top so watch as you pour. Leave at least a cup of liquid (fat-wine drippings) to make gravy. Pour this into a gravy pan and put on a burner on your range. Add enough flour to this fatty dripping and stir to brown flour. To this you will add one cup of cold water, a quarter cup of the reserved kraut juice and a quarter cup of the kraut-wine marinade. Stir as it begins to warm. Add water if it becomes too thick. Stir in more water if necessary to thin to a good gravy (do not use milk in this gravy). This becomes a yummy sauce for mashed potatoes or the duck meat as you prefer. Discard remaining kraut juice and marinade.

imageLet me tell you how good this is. You will have leftover turkey (sometimes for days). You will have leftover green beans and yams. You’ll even have left over pie. But. You won’t have leftover duck or sauerkraut, or duck gravy. You better eat what you want at this first sitting. There won’t be any left for later.

This is why, if you make this for Thanksgiving, you WILL make it again at Christmas (and maybe without the turkey this time).

imageBefore I close, many people have asked me about my pumpkin pies. They seem to taste better than everyone else’s following the pretty much standard recipe (i.e. The back of a Libby’s Can). And while I peel and cut down whole pumpkins rather than using canned pumpkin: that is not the difference in taste.

imageHere is my, heretofore secret ingredient: every pie has at least two tablespoons of black strap molasses and one teaspoon of maple syrup mixed into it. Mmmmm! (Not my original idea. Got this out of an 1820 cook book).

May your Thanksgiving Holiday be as blessed as mine. God bless America.

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If You’re a Scientist, You Must Be a Superhero

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Marvel believes intellect and super powers go hand in hand with responsibility and moral compass. Thus today we look at Marvel scientists as superheroes. And heroes as ambassadors of divinity.

Pym
Pym

Of the original five founding members of the Avengers, three were scientists: Tony Stark, Hank Pym and Bruce Banner. Dr. Donald Blake, Thor’s Earthly alter ego was a Physician and Janet Van Dyne was a technician.

imageGreat minds, great powers, great need brought them together to keep Hulk (whose alter ego is also a scientist) under control.

Richards
Richards

The Fantastic Four’s fearless leader, Reed Richards, was a top notch astro-physicist and even the creator of the X-Men, Charles Xavier held multiple degrees and doctorates but preferred a role as professor.

imageStephen Strange was an accomplished neuro-surgeon who after a crippling accident studied Eastern disciplines and archaic occult manuscripts to supplement science with ‘magic’ as Doctor Strange.

Parker
Parker

As a rule the preferred profession of scientist in the Marvel Universe seems to be superhero. Whether amateur (like Peter Parker/Spider-Man) or professional (Dr. Hank McCoy/the X-Men’s Beast). About a third of the superheroes also carry the title ‘Doctor’ whether because of their educational degree or because they practice medicine.

McCoy
McCoy

The hero without a degree is rare (Wolverine comes to mind. Or maybe Ben Grimm/the Thing) and more often than not these educationally-impaired heroes become “grey area heroes” (or are tricked into participating as bad guys by bad guy scientists).

There might be a Marvel moral here: stay in school, get a degree, save the world or dropout and get mind-gamed by bad guys smarter than you.

Marvel has always been an advocate for education. (Some people think this is ironic, being in the comic book business) with heroes being Doctors and Lawyers and such. Lord knows, this generation could certainly use heroes of noble pursuit!

Part of the reason for this is the noble class of writers and artists who brought these creations to life. At first glance comic books would appear to be at odds with intelligence, knowledge, education and especially religion. This is not necessarily so.

imageBack in 1939 (and continuing through the 1960’s) comics were written and drawn primarily by Jews who held absolute belief in American standards of education, hard work, opportunity and especially an Almighty God. The two Cleveland teens Siegel and Shuster who created Superman and single handedly ushered in the era of the superhero comic book in 1938 were Jews. (And the origin of Superman actually parallels their belief that God would send his savior son Messiah one day to Earth).

imageSimon and Kirby (two of Marvel’s best artists in the thirties) were Jews who created Captain America. In fact, this Jack Kirby and Stan Lieber (Lee) in 1961 revived the superhero industry with their creation of the Fantastic Four, Hulk, Ant-Man, Iron Man and a whole host of heroes that now dominates the world.

imageStan and Jewish artist Steve Ditko created Spider-Man. As Jews they all held this belief: God created the world, holds dominion over it, and demands the moral imperative that His good will always triumph over evil. Superheroes are by extension, His arm of righteousness. In the early Marvel Comics all characters acknowledged God and His sovereignty.

imageMany stories involved scenes with praying characters and sometimes divine intervention. Even Thor and Asgard’s residents acknowledged they were gods (with a small “g”) and not the supreme being of the universe.

imageSo why does it appear in this current generation that superheroes are sometimes anti-Christian or at the very least agnostics? God himself saw this happen over and over in early Israel among the Jews. Where, every third or fourth generation from a miraculously saved generation would fall away from Him and He would have to rescue them and the cycle would happen again. Same with our own nation. While our nation was conceived by devout Christians, we have fallen far from those ideals since.

That is what happened at Marvel, too. A generation of artists and writers with no religious background and dubious moral compass began to create ‘anti-heroes’ (bad guys who did good out of their own need) Wolverine comes immediately to mind.


imageOr bad guys turned heroes like Punisher, Magneto, Venom, Dr. Doom, Electra (even Thanos briefly became a savior shortly after his resurrection from his death at the hands of Warlock, Captain Marvel and the Avengers). Or real heroes began to experience radical turns of morality entering gray areas or even briefly doing evil (I won’t forgive Marvel for letting one of their writers turning Hank Pym into an abuser and murderer just to feed a storyline in the late seventies early eighties). These anti-heroes now reign over the universe.

While Stan’s X-Men where born in the early sixties with “God-given powers” a move was made later to define them as evolved humans to bring them into current and popular scientific theories of evolution.

imageMany Marvel heroes were caught praying in the early sixties and (depending on the writer still do). Daredevil comes to mind. He is devoutly Catholic (and Netflix has kept this as a part of the series).

imageKitty Pride is a Jewish superhero. As America goes, so does its heroes. For God to get a grip on Marvel’s heroes again, he must first get a grip on our nation and the current agnostic generation.

Even education has fallen by the wayside in an effort to make superheroes more “down to earth” they are sometimes little schooled or uneducated, drop outs and even reformed delinquent criminals. They get addicted to drugs, suffer PTSD, tempted by the lusts of this world and in general fall way short of the ideals of traditional superheroes. Yeah, more like sports heroes and reality stars today. Sad state of the world we live in.

Pass it along

Sincere (Chapter One, Part Two)

Pass it along

imageSanctuary

By Gary Lee Stuber


imageincere had a fitful night. His emotions flowing up and down like a raging river. On one hand he was excited about reading; learning for himself what secrets were hidden in the scrolls and books in the library he was working in. And, the possibility that somewhere among those secrets was the one he needed the most: how to earn salvation from his present state of damnation to hell. Contrarywise, if ordained as a priest, he would be forced to practice those things that he felt had continued to plague the members of his own class. He didn’t know if he could do that. He fought that persecution all his life. But one thing he knew for sure: Sebastian would have the determination to make all of this happen, with or without his cooperation. He rose early, since he wasn’t getting much sleep anyway, and went down to the library, unlocking the door with its only key. It had been his first night away from it and in his own bed. Sebastian had insisted. He moved inside, bringing the fire with him, that he would need to illuminate the mostly darkened enclosure. He was completely stunned when Sebastian showed up early, barely before he had the room well lit. But more so for what he saw in Sebastian’s attitude. Was that happiness?

He had seen Sebastian happy on occasions, but NEVER when he was tutoring clerics or fellow priests. Then he was always sober, even bitter sometimes when his frustration was showing. But this Sebastian, he was unsure he had ever seen. Sebastian walked right up to him and threw his massive arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze before jumping back. “Today,” he said loudly, with a broad smile, “We begin a new relationship with God.” He held in one hand a priests cloth and mantle. It drew Sincere’s attention even as he spoke.
____”Relationship?” Sincere asked, somewhat puzzled.
____”I know the answer to your question — how a sinner earns salvation.”
____”Tell me quickly.”
____”You cannot earn it.” Sebastian said with a smile.
____”I am damned then.” Sincere shrugged, helplessly.
____”No. No, you are not.” Sebastian said, giggling like a child. “Salvation is NOT something you earn. Nor can you bribe God to get it with ransoms or good deeds no indulgences. It is something you are given – it is a gift of God.”
____”And you have this gift?”
____”Yes!” Sebastian shouted, and tears punctuated his joy. This only served to confuse the young student. “And you can have it too. It’s free – it truly is a gift…”
____”How do I get this gift?”
____”Well, it starts with remorse. It starts with a contrite heart. You must feel such sorrow and regret for your sins that you beg God to forgive you for them.”
____”Sebastian, this I have done a number of times,” Sincere said, “If I had the power to undo the things I have – I would. If I could but bring back to life just one of the people who died because of me I would give my life in his place.”
____”Good. Good.” Sebastian said eagerly, “Christ said, confess your sins and they shall be forgiven you.”
____”Theft?”
____”Yes.”
____”Murder?”
____”Yes.”
____”Why? How?”
____”Because someone a long time ago prayed that you would remember your sin and your guilt, and in your sorrow, you would ask God to forgive it. So God told that someone that if He would pay for your sins right there and then that He would not hold yours against you if you asked for forgiveness in His name. He agreed and He paid for those sins the very next afternoon.”
____”How much did he pay?”
____”Everything a man could possibly pay – all of his tears and all of his blood.”
____”And because of this man,” Sincere began, a sudden rush of tears to his own eyes, “all I have to do is ask God to forgive my sins and I won’t be damned to hell for all eternity.”
____”You will be,” Sebastian said, his voice trembling with joy, “a beloved brother of Christ, welcomed into Heaven!”
____”Forgiven? Welcome?”
____Sebastian, too overcome to speak, only nodded.

Sincere was overcome with a a weakness in his stomach. He didn’t think he could hold himself up and he dropped to his knees. Feeling a little faint, he dropped forward on his hands, trying to hold up a nearly numb body. Then, as if in pain, he began to sob great tears. He began to cry out between the sobs and the labored breathing, “Great God of the universe forgive me of my sins – my most innermost secret sins too. I stole from my parents, I think something I did caused my father’s death. I never knew – I never went back. I held hatred and contempt for all those who knew me and felt envy for those who had power over me. My selfish, arrogant, prideful acts landed me here and caused the deaths of so many men and women and orphaned so many children. Please God forgive me of these awful sins in the name of the one who paid for them, who prayed for me, even though I did not know his name…” After a moment or two of sobbing, Sincere composed himself, rising on one knee to ask:
____”What was the name of the man who took away my sins?”
____”His name is Jesus, the Christ, the only begotten Son of God,” Sebastian sobbed now, as well, “And we will both come to know him well.”

True to his word, Sebastian began to teach the young charge how to read, teaching him daily from scripture which they discussed with a new found enthusiasm. Sincere began to think back to those days when he looked out over the balcony and questioned the existence of God. And somewhere deep in his soul he was still looking for confirmation. He was seeking some miracle that would happen that could suddenly make him believe beyond question; beyond doubt. He was growing however in faith and knowledge. He discovered that he absorbed reading and writing easily. That somehow it was linked with his lifetime skill of being able to see or hear and remember and then recall anything he heard. Suddenly, with his memory he could put sounds to the the marks and scribbles on the parchments and scrolls. And he could link sounds to make words, and remember those words with ease. Sebastian found him an excellent student and his rapid growth was remarkable. He even had a skill that Sebastian had not. He could read, then remember and quote whole passages of scripture; even whole books. Sebastian began to teach him the trade too, the doctrine, rituals and practices of the church. Sebastian without the authority of the church, nor even seeking confirmation, bestowed upon the young Sincere, the title of Priest, and insisted that he dress in the robe of the church and wear on his shoulders the mantle of priesthood. His first day at morning prayers he stunned all the other clergy, but none of them dared to raise an objection. Eventually, each accepted him as one of their own.

Sincere had noticed a change in his mentor as well. Sebastian began to lose girth, spending more time and energy working with the poor than setting at the table. He spent inordinate amounts of time teaching clerics and priests from the books of Romans, Ephesians and Hebrews and lectured incessantly. He watched as Sebastian began sharing the message of hope and salvation to the poor and ill while dispensing food and medicine. He counseled the weak and those without hope and all of this without demanding a reward or the indulgence – the typical bribe for his services. This did not go unnoticed by the other priests in the abbey. But attitude and circumstance within the abbey had grown so positive, the joyous change was welcomed by most of the clergy and if there was talk of “heresy” or “blasphemy” was only in random whispers within the walls.

Between his prayers, duties and studies of scripture in four languages: Latin, Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic, Sincere spent week after week meticulously copying and checking marks from the tablets onto a single leather scroll. He found not only the energy, but a newfound interest in not only doing God’s work, but doing ALL work in the name of Christ. When asked, he even found time to clean livestock pens and carry water, he did so with a Psalm, or a grateful prayer on his lips. If he were ever looking for a miracle for confirmation that should have been it.

Often he would rise in the middle of the night, paranoid that he had gotten a mark or two in error on the leather scroll from the original tablets and go down to the library and check and tirelessly recheck his work, which was always without error. Sebastian too, proof read all the work and could hardly believe that it was proceeding without any human error at all, almost as if God had a divine finger upon the work itself. Two years passed, and the work proceeded.
____”What do you think this is?” Sincere asked one day as Sebasting was perusing his work.
____”Well, it’s not Hebrew, but does share some characters.”
____”No, Sebastian, I don’t mean the language. I mean, what do you think these tablets are?”
____”I think they constitute a single piece of work.”
____”Exactly,” Sincere said, realizing his mentor was on the same thought track, “And written by the same author.”
____”What makes you say that?”
____”This character,” Sincere said, “from the first to the last tablet was made by the same person. Note, no matter where it is, it is made with the same pressure, the same depth. The same slight push to the left that makes the clay rise here. The penmanship is perfect. A perfect man with perfect penmanship.”
____”Or a perfect God.” They both laughed. Neither of them at that point was willing to concede that God wrote this himself. But they did agree it was done by a single author. Sebastian asked, “Anything else?”
____”Well, after carefully studying the lines of text, it doesn’t seem to be arranged like a story or narrative. It seems to be arranged like some kind of..”
____”List.” Sebastian finished for him. “I thought the same thing myself, But a list of what? Men? Generations? Places? What Places? The Bible does speak often of other books: like the Book of Remembrance, or the Book of Wars, if these were they, I would hardly think they would be written out in list form. But I don’t think so, I think these are older from where they were found.”
____”Are you ready to tell me, yet.”
____”No. I am sworn to secrecy.”
____”There does seem to be some kind of order in their arrangement.”
____”What does this mean?”
____”I don’t know, I wish I did, but I have been working on something else.”
____”What?”
____”Pronunciation. I mean, you noted that it looked much like Hebrew. Maybe it is Hebrew. Just older. Maybe a more complex Hebrew than what emerged later. I gave Hebrew sounds to characters that looked like Hebrew characters and experimented giving new sounds to new characters that looked similar to what might become Hebrew characters.”
____”Why would you do this?”
____”I mean if I pronounce this in my slurred version of Hebrew I get: ‘koraff-fravdah-tah-moyhev.’ Nonsense. But listen, I mean really listen as I slur it again. Listen to the sounds, not the words. what does it seem to say to you?”

Sebastian struggled. It kept sounding like the gibberish it was, and then, suddenly he seamed to hear it.
____”The great proud one.” Sebastian said, “Yes I heard it. But what does it mean?”
____”I’m not sure. There are other lines just like it.”

Sincere began to read random lines from the tablet, but clarifying them for Sebastian in to what he thought they sounded like without the slur in Hebrew. Here is ‘Chief of the mountains‘. And another, ‘green tree in spring‘, and ‘lovely white peace‘ and even ‘flower from the sand‘… and…”

Suddenly, right in the middle of his reading, Sebastian’s white dove, leaped from the shoulder of his master and onto the forearm of Sincere who was still reading lines.
____”White One?” A stunned Sincere stroked him.
____”I don’t know,” Sebastian shrugged, “Maybe she’s beginning to like you. This has never happened before.”
____”Do you like my words? Do you like my voice?” Sincere continued to stroke the dove that made no effort to move on. “Or do you just like the language? Maybe it makes more sense to you than it does to me.” He laughed.
____”It doesn’t make ANY sense. But you may have struck on something. If the list is nothing more than thousands of nonsensical phrases then how practical or how sacred could this list be?”
____”Maybe if I knew where it was found.” Sincere tested.
____”No.”
____”Well, maybe I have to see the bigger picture. If I memorize the whole document, I can see how they relate to each other. Do you think these could be names? I mean we know they are not geneologies, since they don’t repeat a father to son in the way the Hebrews do, line to line. But maybe they are place names? Places precious to God.”
____”Flower from the sand?” Sebastian said. Then they both broke out in a laugh. They couldn’t help it, considering a place with such a name. Sebastian got serious for a moment. “You know the work is almost completed. A couple more weeks and we will have to return the tablets to Graysant.”
____”Do you think we should suggest our verbal translation?”
____”Not until, or unless it begins to make more sense,” Sebastian retorted. “There is already talk within these walls that I am crazy. I don’t need your theory to confirm it.”

The days passed, and the work was completed. An armed division of church soldiers, sent by the Vatican left the abbey with the crate on its way to Rome. The scroll, however, it’s existence unknown to Rome, remained with Sebastian until the secret group who commissioned it, would return to claim it.
____”Has it ever crossed your mind that after all these years, especially with my service to the community, that if I did slip out that no one would have the time or interest in hunting me down? That in effect I could just slip out and disappear some night?”
____”Yes, I thought about that and have often wondered why you didn’t.”
____”Maybe I was waiting on the scroll. Until it was completed.”
____”So you could steal it?” Sebastian laughed.
____”Yes, so I can steal it.”
____”Sincere. You cannot steal that which you already own. I know you have memorized the scroll. In fact, you have memorized every scroll here. You know all the scriptures by heart. You could, given the time, write back ever written work in this building. Without error, I might add. The scroll is not what keeps you here.”
____”I had to watch out for you, old man. I mean, there are rumors in this abby that you are crazy.” He grinned.
____”I would be flattered if that were true. But what kept you here was Christ. He beckons you, he calls you to his service and you hear the call. Why is it that you resist?”
____”A red sea. A burning bush. A whale come to swallow me.”
____”What?”
____”I once imagined that God was sitting back laughing, pleased that I was parcelling out stolen goods. That was my imagination. If there was laughter it was from the Lord of Chaos – whom I had served in my youth. I guess I just want to know there are real miracles and that they can change lives.”
____”Is not your own story not such a miracle. The children you helped raise, whose parents your ignorance helped to kill – do not these young people now love you and show you the respect they would any other priest? A young thief, and murderer, like the one that hung on the cross beside Christ – did he not redeem you like him? He spared your life, made it useful to Him, and to others – and has provided for you an eternity in Heaven.”
____”I know, and I am grateful, and sometimes I am so convinced he has a great plan for my life. But every now and then, I wonder, where is God, when will he deliver those around me from the persecutors. I wonder why he does not act. I wander what he waits for.”
____”Perhaps,” Sebastian said, “He waits for you.”

Sincere laughed, but deep inside he knew Sebastian’s record of being a modern day prophet and wondered if God still had some hidden fate, some hidden surprise that only a miracle would launch.
____”You need to make an early night of it.” Sebastian said, “Some of the council are arriving in secret tonight so they can take the scroll out of here without the fear of its becoming an event. So – off to bed with you early – some on the council still think of you the way they saw you dragged in here – as an unredeemable criminal. You can’t be down here when they arrive.”
____”Would you mind terribly if I just sat up in the library and studied?”
____”No. You are welcome to, but keep it quiet, lock yourself in and under no circumstances should you come down stairs while the council is here.”
____”Understood.”
____”And keep this bird with you.” Sebastian said, pulling White One off of his shoulder, “You know how Graysant hates him. He calls all fowls dirty and disgusting. Keep him in the library with you. Besides you know he likes you. Study your scriptures, make an early night of it. The Lord has need of your services in the morning.”

He did as he was bidden. He took the dove to the library with him, he lit several lamps and sprawled out on the tables a number of the sacred scrolls. He took out a small cloth bundle and unwrapped a small piece of bread. It was warm when he first wrapped it but was now cold. He ate a small piece and shared the rest with White One. A number of wild doves and pigeons voiced their objection in the rafters with their cooing. He pulled down in front of him one of the unrolled scrolls and began reading. It wasn’t very long before something caught his attention and the hairs on the back of his scalp began to stand up. He read the passage out loud:
_____”And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them; and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof.

Suddenly like a man possessed he began to write down phrases he could recall from that day when he introduced his theory to Sebastian. He began to write from the beginning, “great proud one. chief of the mountains. green tree in spring.” and as he wrote he pronounced each in the slurred Hebrew aloud, “lovely white peace.” Again, as if by command, White One flew up from his spot on the table and onto the forearm of Sincere. Sincere sat back in amazement, stunned by the move. “Lovely white peace,” he said again, louder this time.

The bird only sat there and looked back at him. But another unusual thing happened.   Another white dove, a wild one, quietly hiding among the rafters flew down and joined White One on his arm. “Lovely white peace.” he said a third time, a little louder this time. A stranger thing happened. Two doves sitting in the trees outside flew into the room, through the open window and lighted upon his arm. All four birds bravely sat there watching as if waiting for instructions. “Fly to the window.” He said, in his own native tongue. All four birds as if discerning his strange words flew to the window sill and sat upon it.”Return to my arm,” he commanded, his excitement barely containable, and they returned to his forearm. “Return to your places unless you are summoned.” Immediately, the two doves flew out the window, the third to the rafters and White One leaped onto the table to nibble at the remaining scraps of bread.

Sincere stood up and pushed away from the table and suddenly dropped to his knees; he had been swallowed by his whale.

Great tears dropped from his eyes and he felt shame because of the doubt he had expressed so recently. “Oh Great God,” he uttered between sobs, “He who numbers the hairs on the heads of all men, who knows when a single sparrow drops or commands it to do his bidding with but the utterance of its name…Great and Awesome God as I promised, I am thy servant. I will do your bidding and live all of my life in your service. I do not understand why you make innocent men to suffer, just as Christ did. I do not pretend to know why evil men prosper, and your own church sometimes persecutes the poor or the powerless, but I promise my life to your service. Do with me what you will…”

He spent an undetermined time in prayer and the utterance of gratitude but rose when he remembered what this would mean to Sebastian. He knew that he had been instructed not to go downstairs, but now, he felt that he must. He felt compelled to go down and to share with Sebastian and with those who were taking possession of the scroll its meaning, and its power and its testimony to the sovereignty of God.

He unlocked the library doors and flew down the stone steps to the great hall. His heart was light and joyful as he approached the table before the great fireplace. He was not prepared for what he would find there. In front of the fire, on the stone hearth, lay the body of Sebastian in a pool of blood. The room was filled with strange soldiers who stood guard – motionless while Graysant, turned towards him, wiping a short sword clean of its blood with the leather scroll that he and Sebastian had spent many years preparing.
____”Good.” Graysant said, motioning his men from all directions toward him. “This spares me from the massive search of this place to find you.” With a causal toss he threw the scroll into the great roaring fire in the fireplace. Graysant crossed to Sincere. ” I don’t think you have any doubts about what I am prepared to do if I don’t get what I want.” He held the blade up under his throat.
____”What do you want?”
____”Don’t pretend with me, you insolent thief, how dare you wear the robe and mantle of priesthood. You will show me the proper respect – take that attitude out of your voice or I will cut it out of you. Give me what I want.”
____”What DO you want, YOUR HOLINESS?”
____”Give me the SCROLL?”
____”The scroll? You held the scroll in your hands, you threw it into the fire.”
____”You test me thief.” Graysant give him a couple of stabbing pricks in the throat with the point of his sword just to make his point,” I mean the REAL scroll.”
____”That was the REAL scroll. It is the ONLY scroll. There is no other.”
____”Don’t lie to me boy. I can tell when someone is lying. You are lying.”
____”That is the truth.”
____”You’re a thief and a liar. That was not written in Sebastian’s handwriting. I know it well. It was something that you scrawled out, so that you could steal the real scroll.”
____”Sebastian’s hands were crippling. He had me spend years transcribing that scroll. He only checked my work. The handwriting was mine, I admit, but, it was the one and only scroll. You destroyed it.”

Graysant released him throwing him to the great wooden chair that sat at the head of the long wooden table in the room in front of the fire. “Bind him there,” he instructed his men, then turned his attention back to Sincere. “Good,” he smiled, “I hope for your sake that you are not lying.” He called at the guard. “Search the place, kill all that you encounter. Leave none alive.”
____”No, you can’t do this!” Sincere cried, “For God’s sake.”
____”Why don’t you know? Thief, Murderer. YOU did this. You lay in wait all these years until time and opportunity presented itself, then you killed your keeper and all his household. Such a tragedy. But after this you took all the treasure out of the abbey and fled, you hid the treasure which was never recovered. But you were chased down by a valiant and righteous army who killed you and dragged your body back here where is was posted in the square to rot in shame and disgust.”
____”You will never get away with this!”
____”Oh, but I already have. You see, whether or not there is another scroll, this will come to pass, just as I have said.

They bound him in the great chair, putting chains around his wrists behind him and closing them with an iron lock, throwing the key in front of him on the great dining room table as if to taunt him with it. Already the screams and cries of servants and staff began to filter down from the upper chambers as the soldiers accomplished their devious work among the unarmed residents of the abbey.
____”Why are you killing for a scroll you destroyed?”
____”You think that I left the tablets here these past few years without first making my own scroll?” His eyes lighted up as he spoke. “Sabastian didn’t tell you? This is interesting. He had you transcribe it and you didn’t even know what he was doing with it or how it got here?” Graysant sat down close to him. Filtered cries continued to pour in from the hallway.
____”A number of years ago a great warming came upon the world. And a goat herder came upon a huge find at the top of a tall mountain in the east. A ship, a great boat — yes, Noah’a ark was recovered. The Church sent an army out to survey it. Aside from wood and waste, dust and old straw, the only thing of any value left in it were these tablets. There were indications that another set of tablets had been there too. But they had been removed with the occupants. It was Sebastian who suggested to me that Noah and his family took those with them as genealogies of both the earth and the families. And these were passed down to Moses who translated them into the Hebrew history we now know as Genesis. But the tables we found were what Noah left behind? Why? Why would he do that?” Graysant waved a hand, “I don’t really expect you to know that. But I had tasked Sebastian to find out what it was that Noah left behind. They seemed older and to me very important.” He looked down at the old priest’s body. “He told me that he did not know what it was, he never discovered what they were. And I have been telling him for years that I always knew when he was lying. I gave him a chance to recant. And now it comes down to you. Before you try to lie to me I will give you a chance to think about this. I will be back shortly, but I will have to leave soon. After all I was never here.” Graysant left the room.

Sincere’s head was swimming. He knew exactly what the tablets were. In fact they may have been written down by Adam as he named each of the kind brought unto him in the garden. He knew also why the tablets were left behind. No one should have the power to call a creature to divinely suffer a task for sinful mankind. He knew God himself must have demanded Noah leave the tablets behind, redefining man’s relationship with all of God’s created creatures on the Earth. He could even recall the verse from Genesis. The words God spoke to Noah about his future on the Earth with his creatures:
And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; into your hand are they delivered.”

Where once man held dominion and command of every creature by calling it to task by the name given to it by Adam, now they would be meat and sacrifice, slave and fearful quarry. And with the secret left behind they would no longer serve as compliant servants to man. Sebastian, if he didn’t know this, must surely have sensed it. Now this information would also shorten his own life. But it was a secret worth keeping. A secret worth dying for.

Sincere began to pray, crying out to God, as tears began to fill his eyes for the victims once again he might be responsible for killing. In the moonlight just outside a window near to him he caught a glimpse of movement. It was a hummingbird flitting in and about the nocturnal flowers, He thought about it for a moment and seemed to recall a phrase from the scroll which aptly seemed to fit it. He cried aloud in his prayer: “flower song stitcher.”

Suddenly before his face danced an eager hummingbird, he could barely make it out between his tears. “Get behind my back,” he quickly shouted before Graysant or one of the guards could witness it. The hummingbird quickly complied with his instructions, but the remark drew the attention of others in the room. They started to move towards him to see whom he was instructing. “Get behind me Satan” he shouted again as they came toward him. He quoted the words of Christ to his enemies.”
___” Satan?” Graysant, who was coming back into the room, suddenly stopped to laugh. “You think I am Satan? And who are you? A Priest? You wear the mantle of priesthood. I’ll bet that good old Sebastian even taught you the scripture. I’ll bet you can do more than copy marks on a scroll. I’ll bet you can read and write. Ironic isn’t it? The thief and murderer becomes a priest; the priest becomes a murderer and thief, again.  You’ll wish I were Satan or one of his demons before this ends for you this night. A demon would be more merciful.
____”I’m sorry I can’t be here for the most pleasurable of activities yet to come, but the rest of the council expects that I am somewhere else and thus I must be there. But don’t worry, my soldiers will carry out my word to the very last jot and tittle.”

He moved the the captain of the guard, “Scourge the house. Be sure that the scroll is not here and that no one is left alive to tell a different tale. And then, well…” A delirious smile came over the captain of the guard’s face even as Graysant was suggesting it. “Well, you know…enjoy yourself.”

But as they talked and Graysant moved toward the doors and the only other exit other than the window, Sincere looked about the room trying desperately to think of something, anything that would help. The key, he thought, is on the table. The hummingbird could bring it to him, but he would need a distraction so that none would be looking his direction. Then he saw it. A small mound in the corner of the stone hearth. It was an anthill. What did Adam call them? “Glorious Dark Foundation of the Earth,” he shouted. This got the attention of the officers, especially the captain. “Come rescue me,” Sincere called, “Strike at my enemies, burn them, strike them, bring them to their knees before me.”
___”Now he commands the forces of Darkness as well as the powers of Heaven!” One guard laughed, misunderstanding his statement. It was apparent that the emotional utterance made a few of them contemplate such a thing and they looked about them for an invisible enemy. It was not long in coming.
___”Oh! OH!” The captain of the guard screamed as he was bitten by a great host of black ants that were crawling up inside his leggings up under his armor. He flailed at them at first with his hands, and then with his sword and danced around staggering back closer to the hearth until he fell back against the roaring logs. His vest and great mane of dark hair was immediately ignited. He screamed, trying to stand and move away from the fire, but he brought the fire with him. His whole body now engulfed in flame, he fell forward nearly on the body of Sebastian.

This had an immediate reaction on the remainder of the guard in the room. They threw down their weapons and fled in terror chased out by their own guilt and sense of impending doom.
____”Flower song stitcher,” Sincere called as the room cleared. The hummingbird quickly presented itself before his face. “The key, on the table. Put it in my hands.” The bird flew off in obedience and snatched up the key bringing back to his cupped hands locked behind his back, gently placing it in his fingers. It flew back to his face for further instruction. “Now save yourself,” he commanded, “Fly away.”

About that time, the burning mass that had been the captain of the guard, pulled itself up and crawled toward the chair that Sincere was bound into. Sincere desperately clutched at the lock trying to fit the key into it with one hand in a very awkward angle. At the same time the lumbering smoky mass pulled itself with a single arm in his direction. Moment after moment met with failure and frustration as he tried first to fit the key and then turn it. He did this while praying, “Father of the precious Son, Jesus Christ. If you have need of me, use me. And if you need me to live and serve you then make it possible. If you require my life as sacrifice, then take it, I freely offer it to you.” And with those words the key fell to the floor. The sound of it it bouncing on the stone floor echoed over and over in his ears.
____”Blessed be your will.” He breathed and went limp in the chair.

The blackened hand grabbed at his ankle and the hot metal burned itself into his skin. Sincere screamed as the pain penetrated his body. And a miraculous thing happened. The lock fell open and the chains fell off from his hands. With his fingers, he pried the hot, charred, dead hand from his ankle and rose from the chair limping to the widow. The chair where he had been sitting burst into flames, igniting the dining table as well. The heat in the room pressed at him from his position near the window and he moved out as far as he could through it. Outside the window in the moonlight he could see there was a drop the height of many men to a cobbled stone walk. and a small creek beyond too far to leap to in safety. He did consider jumping anyway. He saw them, lining the roof and parapet, and in the trees – doves, pigeons and turtle doves. He called at them, “lovely white peace, help me, save me.” His strength giving out, he fell through the open window toward the stoney ground but never struck it. Nearly a hundred doves grasped at his clothing and his hair, and his fingers and carried him softly to the ground beyond the gate and the creek. When his senses came back to him he saw them. “Thank you my brethren, now save yourselves. I release you.” The birds flew away obediently.

He rose up in the darkness and moved way from the clamor behind him. The dark horizon behind him suddenly burst into orange light as the abbey went up in flame. The frantic yelling of the dying and the desperate shouts of terror and fear from the escaping guard gave him direction but in the dim light he stepped into a creek bed, tripping onto his face. He rose up on his knees there. “Thank you great and glorious one for rescuing me. May I live to see your will done. ”

He washed off the burning ankle in the creek. The stinging fire in it seemed to let up with the splash of cool water on it. He found he could even walk on it somewhat better. He fled deeper into the woods.

By daylight he knew why he was walking better. The charred flesh of his ankle had been completely restored almost as if he had never been burned. Like the chains that had fallen off of him, he knew it was a generous gift of God and there was no earthly explanation for its mystery. Thus he shared a prayer of gratitude as he moved along in the forest.

Near the end of that first day, he stopped a couple of times to pray. He wept once, not for himself, nor his plight, but for the memory of Sebastian whose life and ministry had ended in the hands of a fellow minister. As hunger came upon him, he remembered how God had commanded the ravens to bring Elijah both bread and water, by day and night. So when he saw a raven he called to it. “harbinger of ominous news, I am hungry, bring me something to eat.”

The raven came back in an hour, and two others with it. They brought four worms, a grub and two locusts. He wished he had been more specific. But, he thanked God for the bounty, which did indeed give him the energy to press on.

Two days later, he came into a clearing where a path led him to a hamlet he had never seen before. He tried to exercise some of the stealth of his youth and pass quietly across a barley field without notice, but was spotted by some local peasants who rushed to him.
___”Father,” they cried. He still wore the mantle from the abbey he had escaped from. “Come, Let us take you to our village. We have food and clothes and you need rest. Besides this,” they said, “The Bishop resides at our abbey and he is a just and kind man who exercises his power over the rest of the abbeys in the country. Whatever has been done to you, this man has the power to set it right.”

So he went. He indulged them. They fed him, washed his clothes and mended the holes that the forest had made in his robe. And after a few days rest, they brought him to the abbey to meet Bishop Aekain. There he could file grievances against whomever wronged him.

He arrived at the great hall inside the abbey and waited for his host. But what would he say? “I once was a thief and murderer but I was ordained by a Priest who is now dead, who some such as Priest Graysant – would tell you I killed. And now I seek refuge from the church I serve so that I can save the poor from it’s evil clutches?” Poor argument. He thought about leaving, and began to turn to the door. A familiar voice called out.
____”Guards. Stop that man. He is a murderer and thief.” Sincere turned back to see Graysant. The guards moved to block the exits.
____”I don’t know what you are doing here, Graysant,” Sincere said, “But we are about to get to the truth of all that has transpired. You might want to flee.”
____”Really?” Graysant cooed. “Maybe I will just stay.”
____”Not everyone in the church is as callous and evil as you, Graysant.” Sincere warned. “The truth shall be revealed, and the truth shall set me free.”
____”Who will hear this truth?” Graysant asked.
____”The Bishop Aekain.” Sincere challenged.
____”Bishop Aekain Graysant?” Graysant asked, motioning to a servant who brought him the headpiece worn by a Bishop. He put it on and all those in the room bowed to him except Sincere.
____”In the name of truth,” Graysant shouted, “In the name of justice, in the Holy Name of our Lord, I command that you take this man, this murderer, liar and thief and throw him in the dungeon pending his execution.”

The guards rose off their bowed knees and pressed in on him, restricting all his movement. He could barely breathe, but he could pray. And the guards could hardly believe their ears as they closed the door, leaving him in the darkness. He was praying, but not that God would rescue him, but a prayer of gratitude.

End of Chapter One

You are responsible for Chapter Two

Rules:

  1. Use your imagination, sense of drama
  2. Use scripture, and biblical principals to advance your story and the cause of Christ
  3. Use 5,000 words or less and leave your character alive at the end of the chapter
  4. No hurry.  Have Fun

Suggestions:

  1. Use your ability to call creatures to task, sparingly. Be cautious of their limitations. Be considerate. Reward them if you can.
  2. Try not to exercise divine gifts when others can see it. This will be seen in a superstitious world as occult or witch powers and will certainly not advance the cause of Christ.
  3. Goals should be centered around helping others, and self second. Remember, you are a superhero without superpowers. Integrity rules.

Keep in mind:

  1. There will be no trial. Graysant would not allow the truth to come to light. He is even hiding this from the council.  You probably ruined his plans. Some of his guard died where they should not have been.
  2. He probably thinks you have the scroll, or know its magic, or both. Surviving guards would have told him you called upon the darkness.
  3. Thus, he probably won’t kill you.  Not, at least, until he extracts this power from you.

Final note:

I told you in my original letter (a previous post) that this was originally written in 2002 for my youngest son.  He did not write Chapter Two.  So, I did, and thought quite seriously about turning this into a Christian novel. Some day, in a future post, I may share my version of Chapter Two. For now I leave this in YOUR hands.  Give it a shot. Your digital Chapters of 5,000 words or less can be emailed to me at gary_stuber@yahoo.com if you want to impress me with your creative story-telling.  No hurry. Take your time. Do your best.  In a future blog, I may publish exerpts from the best submissions. Or, for those less wordy who want to comment on the story thus far or speculate on where it should go: leave your comments below.

Pass it along

Sincere (Chapter One, Part One)

Pass it along

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“Sanctuary”
By Gary Lee Stuber

imageis name was Sineer, the son of a Sin-Eater, and he was a petty thief. He was very young not yet out of his teens, and thin and somewhat lanky. His wirey form was what gave him his nimbleness and dexterity as he found himself under the cover of darkness slipping into houses and purloining the valuables of the residents of those homes. To look at him he would have seemed quite natural placed against the background of a servant son, or the son of a peasant; not having the distinguishing charm of nobility or wealth. Rather he was raised with the fundamentals of the poor and wanting: full of the curiosities of the world and what spoils that slyness might gain him. His fear of God was limited to what was brought onto him by those in authority within the church. He bowed, now, in the presence of the priests, after his first smack across his back because he looked one in the eyes with his stiff-necked stare. His moral values somewhat less defined he did have a consuming sense of fairness for his fellow peasant class. He was always ready to jump into a fight when he felt someone was treated unfairly. In some quarters, his face was at this young age already posted as a wanted man, who for assault should have been packed off in a warship for military service.

I called him a petty thief, even though, when he tried, he was very good at his craft, but, it seems that his ambitions were never more than petty — bread, meat, a bottle of ale or two — sometimes a warm blanket or coat. These he accumulated successfully and often. Unless, his theft resulted in some one poorer than himself who would be left without a coat for the winter. His sense of fairness then would force him to break back in to return it, or replace it with something similar lifted elsewhere. He was content with life as it was, that is until his last and greatest act of crime.

An Abbey nearby seemed the most improper of targets, however, it was known to have the richest of treasures. The abode of a half dozen clerics, monks and priests and those who served among them; this was the house of God where the souls of the guilty and the lost went to bribe back the favor of God and the hope of admittance into Heaven. And because of the sins of the wealthy lords nearby, the anterooms were filled with indulgences — that proper bribe from the poor that God, through his priests expected for the forgiving of sins. Livestock of all types: horses, goats, swine, sheep, chickens, poulette, quail, doves — all slept quietly in barns. Bread, meats, wheat, barley, oats, ales, wine, salt, brine, all rested on dry floors. Metals: gold, sliver, bronze, iron and more mixed with generous portions of agate and precious stones or gems sat behind locked doors. And while it all belonged to God, it was the priests and clerics which used it, somewhat generously for their own comfort.

Getting behind locked doors was somewhat easier when accomplished through the roof. Waiting out the fat clerics who occupied the treasure rooms as part-time guards was another matter. And the two beneath him, while indulging in some bread and meat, engaged each other in conversation, reading from scrolls as they ate.
____”God would let murders get away with it?” one said.
____”Well, not murderers, exactly. But if you accidentally or perhaps unintentionally killed someone, then yes. God gave you a method to avoid the death penalty.” said another.
____”How is this possible?” asked the first. The second pulled out a scroll and brought his finger through it until he came to a place where he began to read.
____”Here in the Book of Joshua, it says: the Lord also spake unto Joshua, saying, speak to the children of Israel, saying, appoint out for you cities of refuge, whereof I spake unto you by the hand of Moses: that the slayer that killeth any person unawares and unwittingly may flee thither: and they shall be your refuge from the avenger of blood. And when he that doth flee unto one of those cities shall stand at the entering of the gate of the city, and shall declare his cause in the ears of the elders of that city, they shall take him into the city unto them, and give him a place, that he may dwell among them. And if the avenger of blood pursue after him, then they shall not deliver the slayer up into his hand; because he smote his neighbour unwittingly, and hated him not beforetime. And he shall dwell in that city, until he stand before the congregation for judgment, and until the death of the high priest that shall be in those days: then shall the slayer return, and come unto his own city, and unto his own house, unto the city from whence he fled.” When he finished reading both looked at each other as if in amazement, one with a mouthful finally saying.
____”Killing somebody without punishment.”
____”Not exactly,” said the other. “It is punishment enough, having to live there for the rest of your life, so long as the high priest lived.” The second laughed.
____”He’d have to kill him.” They both laughed and their laughter caught the attention of someone outside the door. Abruptly, they were called away, leaving Sineer alone with his booty.

It was like a dream: he dropped from the rafters swiftly moving about the treasure selecting only that which he could carry and lift through his crawl space along the roof. Mostly practical stuff or that which struck his fancy. Long before dawn he had managed to accumulate more than he could carry and had packed it into a hollow tree some five hundred steps east of the main gate. He left the stuff that would not spoil and carried off the food towards home.

Whether it was his conscience, or perhaps the burden — or just the solitude of the woods — but he began to contemplate the consequences of his act. His own now deceased father had made a career of taking on the sins of the wealthy and he imagined him now in hell paying for the sins of many men. Was he robbing God? Would God punish him for this selfish act? How would the poor eat? There were those whose only meals in some weeks was the bread and wine offered at communion meal. His burden grew greater with every step; with every thought. It was as he passed a hamlet in the glen that he realized that his burden could be somewhat lightened. With a new heart, he began to take sack after sack of meats and vegetables and bread into the homes in the twilight, leaving it at the hearth for the occupants of find in the morning. He chuckled at himself as the thought about his theft in reverse, breaking in to leave instead of take. Oh, he imagined, how God must be laughing too, pleased with him now. He returned home in such joy with the remaining spoils.

Two days later, it was his fortune, no — his duty — to return to the abbey with the other residents of his own hamlet to bribe God. (it was also opportunity to quietly collect the remains of his spoils out of the hollow tree). As he passed through the hamlet he had benefited, he was stunned to see it burned down. The houses and barns and shacks in ashes, everything gone, but his own compliance in its demise did not strike him until he saw them, the men and women hanging just outside the small village and on their bodies were words written that he could not read:  thief, liar, robber of God, blasphemer, and Servant of Satan.

He had a sick feeling as he walked in through the outer gate where armed soldiers everywhere held crude pens of men, women and children awaiting sentencing. The Lord of the kingdom sat in the judgement seat, erected in the square of the abbey, his expression one of intolerance. His own royal guard stood taller than the abbey guard, which looked shabby and smaller standing close to them. He had a number of small, dirty children detained in front of him as he addressed the crowd.
____”Even the children have been taught to lie! They speak of a good generous spirit who came in the night and brought them food from God. Like their parents, they refuse to admit their sin — their own act of theft or that of others on their behalf and instead indulge us with lies.
____”Or perhaps they are not lies. Perhaps they serve a malevolent spirit who lies and steals for them what they cannot. Either way, they too, like their parents are beyond redemption. They too must be punished for their many sins and crimes…”
____”Please,” shouted one of the fat priests, one in a robe which also covered his head so that only his red beard emerged from it. “These are children. Surely they are not beyond redemption.”
____”They are liars and thieves and blaspheme against Christ and the Church.” The Lord, whose name escaped Sineer, shouted with such venom that it silenced any further rebellion among the clergy.
____”Wait!” Sineer shouted, almost instinctively, defending those of his class being treated unfairly. “Perhaps they do not lie. What if someone — someone else — did this awful act and then, without their knowledge, shared it with them?” All eyes turned in his direction. This was an unheard of act. A peasant addressed the Lord of the Kingdom without bowing, or petitioning for an audience or following proper etiquette or protocol. A priest as an emissary of God, might get away with this but not a peasant. Worse, his words contemplated by the emotional audience had aroused both their curiosity and their suspicion.

The Lord’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the peasant boy, who quickly averted his stare. He even had to raise a hand to stop some of the dark garbed soldiers from moving in his direction.
____”Please, your highness.” the boy said, more humble now as he looked at the ground, “Consider this as a possibility.”
____”What is your name, insolent one?”
____”Sineer, Sire.”
____”Sin-ear?” The angry man rose to his feet, “Tell me, Sin-ear, insolent and rebellious one, what man would blaspheme God, rob Him and then place the sin upon the heads of innocent men, women and children?” Sineer thought about at first, just keeping his mouth shut, but the guilt of his conscious would not let him.
____”Perhaps, your highness, one who thought he was doing God’s will by sharing food from a pantry that sat molding while those locked outside went hungry. Perhaps such a man would do this.”
____”God’s will?” the Lord continued to vent. “And what do you know of God’s will? Do you know anything of Christ’s sacrifice for you — for the world? Can you utter any of the seven things he uttered from the cross? God’s will indeed. You expect me to set justice aside and give to these people what YOU think they deserve. Because it is God’s will?”

Sineer held his peace, relieved that perhaps no others might die for his sins.
____”Sergeant, give these people what they deserve.” The Lord said almost casually as he sat back down.
____”SIr?” the confused officer asked.
____”For the wages of sin is death!” He clarified, “Kill all the prisoners?”
____”No!” Shouted the priest who had interrupted earlier, “This is improper. Even Christ himself…”
____”WAIT!” Sineer shouted above the groans and shouts of the crowd, above the priests and clergy and the noise of the crowd, “These people are innocent. They did not steal the food.” The noise of the crowd hushed as they waited for an answer.
____”Sergeant, hold your men,” the Lord was standing again. “And how do you know this?” The guards instinctively moved from their prisoners to Sineer, nearly surrounding him.
____”Because, I did it.” The crowd breathed in with his revelation. “I did this thing and then I parceled out the food to those who did not know I had stolen it. I thought I was appeasing God. I imagined him laughing, happy and pleased with me for feeding his poor. And now, I am guilty of killing them, even as I had no intention to do it. I alone deserve death. Spare them. Take only me.”
____”Such a noble act and out of character for one so guilty.” The Lord brushed his own short scraggly beard. “Do you think your confession now absolves you of your crime and your sin?”
____”No.” Sineer mumbled, “Only that others do not die for my sins.”
____”Maybe you feign this so that your partners can go free. Or maybe you are yourself innocent and just give over yourself because these are family as well as partners. One for the many? Where is your proof?”
____”I came a good distance,”Sineer explained, “and I could not carry all the spoils. So I hid them in a tree barely five hundred steps from the east gate, toward the creek. I meant to come back to claim them today. If I had partners among your prisoners, they would have escaped your wrath, and found a way to warn me away. Or if they knew of the treasure would have stolen my loot and fled. The loot is my proof that I acted alone. Go and see and you will know I alone am responsible. I did not know I was sharing my guilt with others or ruining their lives. I thought my act was feeding the poor.” With a wave of the Lord’s hand, some of the guard were out of the gate in the direction that Sineer indicated.They were soon back and nodded to the man on the dias.
____”Your sin has only brought the vengeance of God upon the people you tried to help. You, not me, not the church, were responsible for what happened to these people. God will punish you for your sin. God will pay you back for what you have done this day. I can only offer earthly justice as slim as it is for your crimes.
____”For your crime of theft,” the Lord continued without a pause, “I absolve you of this crime, this sin against Christ and his church, just as He pardoned the thief from his own cross. But for your crime of placing the crime on others who suffered because of your crime, losing their own lives, you will be tied to a stake here in this place until you perish from the lack of food and water. None shall give you aid, none shall give you food. None shall give you water, except the spit of those whose families you have killed here today. But after death, God will see to it that your soul is damned to an eternal hell, where you will never see comfort or peace again but only the living, burning flames of torment.”
____”Please, your highness,” The red-bearded priest interrupted again, this time pulling the shroud off of his head to reveal his grey-templed red hair, balding at the top. “Are you speaking now for God, too? There has been too much blood spilled already.
____”Many of us have pleaded for these people before this man arrived.” He continued to a stunned Lord. “You have ignored all of our pleas for mercy and have arrogantly pursued your own form of justice. You cannot absolve your own part in this by putting your sins, then your judgement, upon the shoulders of one who admits to only an act of theft with good intentions. Barely more than a child, he admits to his sins, and offers himself for proper punishment. He cannot utter Christ’s words, because we have failed him, but with his heart he reaches for Heaven’s forgiveness. What sins do you confess?”

The Lord, much to the shock of the crowds around him, dropped to his knees and raised his arms toward Heaven. “Lord forgive me my sins. In my zeal for justice I have made your square run red with the blood of the innocent. Forgive my zeal and my ignorance. Make me your servant again, worthy to rule your people righteously.” For a moment everyone held their peace — servant, soldier, priest and peasant — all stood motionless barely knowing how to proceed.
____”Let the innocent prisoners go,” the Lord shouted, “And divide the spoils found in the tree among them. I will make up the difference to the Vatican from my own treasury back to this church, and a great generous gift for my part as well.”
____”And what of the thief?” The arrogant priest wanted clarification.
____”He must die. He must pay the just price for causing the deaths of so many.”
____”Father forgive us as we forgive those who trespass against us,” The priest quoted, “You would ask that God forgive you and punish only your enemies?”
____”Sebastian,” the Lord said, rising from his knees, “Would you have me set free one who set into motion so much sin and death? And what of justice to the families standing here who want his head?”

Then it happened. The moment that changed everything. Before Sebastian could even open his mouth to speak, Sineer opened his mouth and spoke. it was a gift he had as a child; the ability to recall word for word what was spoken to him in another place, another time. The words caught the attention of both the Lord and Sebastian:
____”Appoint out for you cities of refuge, whereof I spake unto by the hand of Moses: that the slayer that killeth any person unawares and unwittingly may flee thither; and they shall be your refuge from the avenger of blood. And when he that doeth flee unto one of those cities shall stand at the entering of the gate of the city, and shall declare his cause in the ears of the elders of that city, they shall take him into that city unto them, and give him a place, that he may dwell among them.

The Lord and Sebastian just stared at him incredulously. Did he actually know what he was saying. Was it perhaps coincidental or intentional and partially divine. After a long uncomfortable moment, Sebastian turned to the Lord and spoke.
____”Let the punishment fit the crime. He asks for sanctuary in the Abbey under the old testament principal of refuge. Confine him to the church, to this Abbey where he will serve the poor whom he wronged for as long as I live.”
____”A good and prudent punishment.” The Lord said, “Thus I give you the punishment given unto the children of Israel whose act in ignorance ended in the killing of someone who was innocent. Fly ye to the church and it will be for you, your walled City of Refuge just as in Canaan. And you will remain there for as long a child of Israel was to remain — for the entire life of the high priest. Now go…”

Sebastian and some of the other priests moved to Sineer and pushed him toward the inner gates of the abbey. As prisoners were being released they and the crowd began to understand that this young man, this prisoner, was the reason for all their misery and that he was going away unpunished. The crowd clearly didn’t agree with the judgement and began picking up stones and threw them. One priest who still stood on the platform pulled back his cloak as well, revealing a bald head, and yelled to the crowd. “Only the man who could make it alive to his walled refuge was allowed to remain within. It was the right of the family of the dead to try to kill any man so found guilty before he could escape punishment.” His sentiments were clearly with the crowd and he didn’t need to say it more clearly, the vengeful crowd, without the forceful show of the guards who stepped out of their way, rushed the gate, pressing in on Sineer and the few priests who protected him. Sineer now began to run toward the abbey and made it inside with but a minimum of cuts and abrasions from the rough stones thrown from the streets. Sebastian came in after him. His temple was bleeding, the accidental target likely of the mob trying to extact what revenge they could on Sineer before it was too late.
____”Why did you save me?” Sineer asked.
____”That I did not do.” Sebastian said, wiping the blood from his temple. “That I cannot do. Only Christ can do that, if he will. What I did do was to make your punishment more severe. You will work, and work hard long hours – long nights – until you have restored to these people everything you have taken from them: their homes, their livestock, their clothes, their harvests, their trust in God almighty and His sovereignty!” HIs voice was rising and his face became as red as his beard “Before you count this as a blessing, you may well wish that you had died on the stake.”
____”And how long would that punishment last?”
____”Forever” Sebastian said, and as he did a white dove from the ceiling of the great hall they stood in, flew down and lit onto his shoulder, resting there as if it were home, next to the grey-streaked red beard of the portly priest.
____”I mean, how long am I a prisoner here?” Sineer asked, his eyes on the dove.
____”You heard the punishment, you took sanctuary in a Refuge City.”
____”What does that really mean?”
____”I’m sorry!” Sebastian looked frustrated and then shook his massive locks, almost dislodging the dove. “I often forget how ignorant the masses are of scripture. Anyone who took refuge in a refuge city could remain there without retribution for as long as the high priest lived. That would be me. And I expect to live a long, long time. When I die you’re a free man, unless you kill me and then Heaven help you!”
____”And if I just slip out?”
____”Then every man, woman and child out there whom you wronged could hunt you down like a dog and kill you on the spot. Justly, with the blessing of God.
____”I suggest you stay.”

Sebastian may have been a priest, but he might as well have been a prophet. For he predicted the next three years so accurately. Sineer gained twenty-five pound of muscle as he worked all but four hours out of every twenty-four. He bred livestock, he fed livestock, he milked livestock, he butchered livestock. He cleaned livestock pens. He carried water; he carried wood. He cut wood. He planed wood. He drilled wood. He built furniture, mangers, plows, tools, bins and buildings. He thrashed grain, he ground grain, he sifted grain, he separated grain. He mixed flour, he kneaded bread, he baked bread, he served bread. He served water, he served food, medicine, and spent many nights comforting wounded and orphaned children who rose in the night in screams. He even fed and watered “White One,” Sebastian’s pet white dove who was treated with the respect of a priest within the abbey.

He was tired, but proud, and not once did he say to himself, ‘I don’t deserve this…” In fact, sometimes just about sundown when the priests were in prayers and he was left to himself and his chores, he would look out over the balcony at the setting sun and the woods beyond and wonder why God had let him live that day. The words still rang in his ears, “For the wages of sin is death.”

Sometimes at night, he imagined that he had died and felt the licking flames burn at his body, or the smell of charred flesh and melting brimstone. Sometimes in these nightmares he saw them again, the bodies of those whom he was responsible for killing, hanging over the flames, and the words once written on their bodies that he could not read, they cried at him: Liar, Thief, Blasphemer.  He would awake in fear, which would soon change to gratitude that he was still alive and still cheating the fate that waited for him.

If he deserved death, or damnation as the Lord had suggested, why then was he just grateful to be alive. Even though he wondered if there really was a God, and not just some elaborate scheme built by the priests and Lords of this world to extract the livelihood of the poor for themselves. At times like during these sundowns he secretly wished there was. He imagined a good and merciful God – not a vengeful and hateful God trying to extract revenge.

And if there was such a merciful God, and he had the power to to move mountains and men, “then, Lord God Almighty, bring justice and deliverance to the poor, instead of sitting back and letting men rob them, and kill them all in your name. Then,” he thought, “I would know you are real and I would serve you. “Otherwise,” He believed, “God is no better than the men who now serve him.”

One day, sometime during his fifth year as a prisoner, life changed somewhat for the young ex-thief. There was a gathering in the small abbey of some nobelmen and fellow priests. After seeing to their meal and their comfort he stayed pretty much out of their way. The less he interacted with them, the better. There was a number of them who are pretty much silent. Some were genuinely charming, but one among them, a certain bald priest whose name he discovered was Graysant seemed to be both somber and demanding, and was thus accorded the most respect from the rest of them. They brought with them a huge wooden crate, the contents of which were secret, and they did not speak of it when servants like him were within earshot.

A day later, they were all gone, but the crate and its contents remained, sealed into one of the libraries. Sineer had not inquired after the crate but Sebastian like a true prophet, knew of his curiosity in it.
____”What valuable treasure do you think is in it?” Sebastian baited.
____”Who cares?” Sineer tried to feign disinterest.
____”Oh, right.” Sebastian said, “It’s much too large to carry off, even to hide in a tree.”
____”Those days are over” Sineer said angrily, offended, “I’m not a thief.”
____”No? Then what are you? A tradesman perhaps? A carpenter? I know, a miller. No, a baker. No, that’s right: you are a nurse…”
____”Yes. All these and more. At least it’s a more noble calling than priest.” He regretted at once that he said it. There was a moment of silence. Only White One broke the quietness with a coo, perhaps speaking for the large one on whose shoulder he sat.
____”To you, a robber and thief should be given more respect than a priest?”
____”Yes. At least you expect and deal with loss from someone you know fears and hates you, and sneaks in and takes everything you own. But a priest, why, you rob and steal and extract pain while saying, ‘I love you – God loves you’…”
____”You are right!” Sebastian admitted, “There are such priests as these. Do you think I am one of them?”
____”You concern yourself with the poor, so no – not really. Yet, your girth grows wider every day, so your stomach seems to be of greater concern to you than the poor.”
____”For such a remark I could have you scourged.” Sebastian lamented, feeling hurt himself. “Yet, it is the truth and a man should not be beaten for the truth. So, what other truths have you learned here?”
____”The priest Graysant, he’s not like you or some of the other priests. He drives himself for gain and the approval of other men. He tramples the poor underfoot. He uses them like tools. Perhaps if you were in his way, he would trample you too.”

Sebastian laughed out loud so heartily it brought the attention of a number of monks who entered the room to see what was transpiring. Sebastian waved them away.
____”Aren’t you the observant one. You know Abram got a new name change to Abraham and Jacob to Israel. God knew they were much more than the names their father’s gave them. Thus it is that I bestow upon you a new name. You saw sin that day in the square and addressed it. You saw sin in me and you’ve addressed it. You saw sin in Graysant, and that, well is something that may have yet to be addressed. Thus I name you ‘Sin-seer’,  or rather Sincere, for your gift is a good one from God, the perception to discern truth. With a little direction maybe you can put it to good use.”
____”My name is Sineer.” Pride in the youth, made him object, even though he did not find the name objectionable.
____”What is ‘sneer’ anyway but a proud and haughty look. I know your father named you ‘sin-eater’ after himself, but pride is a better name for your sin. God calls pride sin. Yes, ‘sneer’ was a good name for you, back when you looked on every man outside your own class with disgust and disdain while you tried to out-sly them with your craftiness. But Sincere is much more fitting now, and it is the only name I will address you with or let any of my staff recognize you by from this moment on.”
____”Sincere?” The confused youth breathed.
____”Yes.” Sebastian said, “For you see the truth in all you encounter. Now, about that crate. It is a very special treasure and I am entrusting it to you.”
____”To me?”
____”Unpack it in the library and see that nothing happens to it.”

It was a chore that was accepted with joy and with intrepidness. To think that Sebastian actually trusted him. And yet, he wondered if this was a test – or worse – a trap. He opened the crate carefully. Inside were fifty heavy square stones of three fingers in depth by a forearm in length and bredth. Some kind of marks were on one side in parallel rows and filled the entire side, having been cut deep into the stones He knew these were not natural, but some kind of man-created stones. He laid them all out carefully in order on the wooden tables and for two days, kept a constant vigil upon them as if someone were lurking about trying to steal them. On the third day, Sebastian came into the library.
____”Is this all of them?”
____”Did you not count them before the crate was opened? I have not stolen or lost a single thing left in my care.”
____”No, no, my young charge, I did not mean it that way. i was just inquiring if there were more that needed to be unpacked and there was no more table room.”
____”This is all of them.”
____”Wonderful.” Sebastian said, walking along the tables examining each.
____”Pardon my ignorance, sir,” Sincere said, “How do rocks get such uniform shapes and such markings.”
____”Before these were ‘rocks’ these were clay; soft clay, shaped into that which you see them now. Then someone with a sharp stick, called a wedge, pressed it into the clay and made these marks, which are words and numbers. And when they were done, they baked them like bread making the words last forever like rock on these tablets.”
____”How old are these “tablets’?”
____”Old. Very Old. Probably the oldest in the world.”
____”What do they say?”
____”I don’t know.” Sebastian admitted with a sigh. “No one knows.”
____”Graysant?”
____”No. Not even Graysant. The language is lost. No one know what any of these tables say. Perhaps, if we could read them, we might know the great deeds of someone long ago, or maybe we would know more of the world when it was new and God first made it. We might know some of God’s greatest secrets, revealed for the first time to mankind.”
____”Really?”
____”Oh yes. We know whatever these tablets say it must be very sacred and very important. We know this from where they were found, but I cannot say more about that.”
____”What is to become of them?”
____”They must go to Rome. The church will dispose of them?”
____”Dispose?”
____”I suppose. No one ever knows what happens to that which is sent to Rome and is never seen again.”
____”What are they doing here?”
____”Because, some are convinced that they come from God, that they are indeed divinely inspired if not handwritten by God himself. That is why they are indeed import enough that the truth of them – history, knowledge or power – must be known before they vanish from the earth.”
____”Graysant.” it was more of a statement than a question.
____”Yes,” Sebastian nodded with the word, and “White One” ruffled his feathers at the mention of his name, “And I ageed. These must be studied and copied before they are sent to Rome.”
____”And you can do this?”
____”If I were younger with young nimble fingers. For you see, these tablets must be copied to a scroll so meticulously. There is no room for error in a single stroke. No, this is a work for young hands.”
____”Such as the other priests or monks in this abbey?”
____”No.” Sebastian answered almost too quicky “For their work is important too, maybe much more important than this. They copy the scriptures, keeping the Word of God alive, and duplicate copies of it so that every priest has his own scroll with the revealed Word and the Law of God for his instruction, his edification and for the salvation of others in the world.”
____”You can spare none?” Sincere asked, “or you trust none?”
____”You are aptly named my young student,” Sebastian smiled. “I apologize for trying to conceal my real concern from you. This is a valuable work, but a secret one. None other, outside those who brought these tablets here, myself and now, you, must know of the existence of these tablets. This library I have made off limits to all others but myself and you.”
____”Me? Sir, but why?”
____”For this is the work of young and nimble dexterous hands – your hands.”
____”What???!!?”
____”It is a noble work.”
____”But I don’t know letters, I don’t know how to read or write.”
____”No need. You need not know letters to duplicate them. As I said, I don’t know these letters either. No one does. But that aside, you could be taught to read and write. You have an incredible memory, you quoted that day in the square something that you heard only once. Few men have this power. You can memorize these letters, you can duplicate them with ease. It would be easy to teach you to read and to write. However, that is a skill that only a man of the cloth needs to know.”
____”Why should only the priests learn to read?”
____”Unless you are royal or noble born, it is forbidden for any outside the church to have or possess the Word of God that they might learn or teach it in error. This is how the many cults rise, that the church must crush.”
____”So it is forbidden for all but priests to copy tablets such as these?”
____”Oh no,” Sebastian laughed, “You won’t get out of this chore so easily. If need be I will ordain you myself as a priest so that you will do the work.”
____”A priest who does not read?”
____” I will teach you.”
____”But these tablets, if they are the work of God, what right do I – a thief and a blasphemer – the builder of the evil that fell the hamlet of Owen – and damned for all time for it – what right do I have to even touch these tablets?”
____”Is that what you believe? That you are damned for all time? Do you think because you stole bread and shared it with the poor that God holds you in damnation for all time for your mistake?”
____”The overlord said it..’For the wages of sin is death.’ I have earned damnation. So, how do I earn salvation?”
____”Beg God for your life, offer him you life and service…and then, just as I did, he will forgive your sin and permit you a small corner in Heaven.”
____”Sebastian?” Sincere inquired, “Does this men, you serve God because you need his forgiveness.” Sebastian hung his head.
____”It was a lifetime ago. I can’t discuss it.”
____”Cannot these Words of God that you copy, and read – can they show you how to earn salvation?”
____”Perhaps.”
____”Then teach me to read them, and I will find it. And in exchange, I will do this work for you.”
____”Good. We will begin reading at the beginning in the morning.”
____”Must we begin at the beginning?”
____”Where would you have me start?’
____”We could start where the words are written, ‘For the wages of sin is death‘…”

He had been a servant of the church since he was but a youth himself but that night Sebastian became a servant of Jesus Christ. Perhaps it was because he had busied himself all his life with duties and tasks; but for whatever reason he had never read the Book of Romans, written by the Apostle Paul with spiritual eyes until this night. At least, had never read or contemplated it in it’s entirety. Or perhaps he had, but until this moment, had not read it with his eyes and his heart and mind wide open. He found these words staggeringly profound. “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ.’ Gift? He would spend the remainder of the night contemplating that question, as he read the rest of the book through tear-filled eyes. He would face the rising sun with joy, and the secret burden on his shoulders fell to the stone floor around him. He attended morning prayers with hope, zeal and a renewed heart. And it was with joyful anticipation that he was eager to meet with his young student in the library. He learned the secret his student wanted to know: how to earn salvation. You don’t. It is a free gift. One gift he was eager to show Sincere.  He ran to the library like a giddy child.

End of Part One

(I really hate to break this here. I really do, but this is the halfway point and while the incredible stuff is still to come, you need a break. Continue on to the next post for Chapter One, Part Two. It will be worth your effort.)

For those who think I am participating in bashing the Catholic Church, I am not.  The church in 900 A.D. bears no resemblance to today’s Catholic Church. After 1521 A.D. Thanks to Martin Luthor the Catholic Church cleaned up its doctrine, returning to principals laid out by Christ, and holds to those doctrines that ALL true Christians do: (1) the Bible is God’s true inspired word (2) Christ was born of a virgin, lived a sinless life, gave up his life in exchange for our sins, rose alive on the third day and now sits at the right hand of God  (3) Paid for our sins, and belief in this is thereby our only access to Heaven  (4) that Christ is God, as part of a triune entity that is only one God.   Thus any differences between Catholics and other Christian denominations, such as Protestants or Baptists are mostly tradition in nature and do not conflict with the bigger picture in the four doctrines presented above.

 

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Silverlining; A Christian Role Playing Game

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imageA game Introduction

by its author Gary Lee Stuber

imageome of the greatest stories of hope and courage, of strength and power, of faith and adversity, lie buried forever; never to be remembered. They lie not in secret chambers of buried civilizations covered in sand and stone and earth, nor in the lost chamber or caverns deep into the sea cliff mountains, but rather they lie quietly mapped and charted, wrapped and sealed, and packed and placed into the dusty alcoves of the impervious library catacombs below Vatican Hill.

These stories, some of them only myth and legend, some the designs of devious and controlling minds, and still others, biographies, written in the blood of those who chronicled their own experiences, lie as if dead, quiet and still. But whether myth, legend, truth or history — none of them residing in these libraries were ever meant to see the light of day, or to be read nor contemplated of men again. The darkness owns them. Why? Because some men, pious men decided a long time ago that they conflicted with the best interests of the church. Because they challenged church dogma, doctrine, tradition or just history as they meant for it to continue. And, because the darkness owned some of them too.

For the history of the church was one of blemishes, bruises and blackeyes. For Rome, was at one time, an enemy of Christ. Then suddenly in 312 A.D. with the almost instantaneous conversion of Emperor Constantine to Christianity the two at enmity were at once thrust together like bride and bridegroom, forming the Holy Roman Church of Jesus Christ, a curious mix of Christianity and the sovereign rule of the Roman Emperor Constantine — as if it were his right to pick and choose the traditions and sanctions of the church, Christian leaders once persecuted and punished for their beliefs were now promoted by the Emperor but at a high price — the Emperor called all the shots.

This new Holy Roman Church declared that it was the ONLY legitimate Christian faith and that anyone outside the sanctions of their own heirarchy were heritics, blasphemers, and driven by demons or by Satan himself, and therefore self-declared enemies of the church. Thus, other Christian sects, even some whose origins went all the way back to the ministry of Jesus Himself or of HIs Apostles were hunted down and forced to accept Rome’s version of doctrine or perish. Many of these “true” Christians, like the Anna-Baptists, the forerunners of the Baptist religion in the world, scattered throughout Europe and Asia, hiding themselves in the mountain ranges. Other sects were not so lucky. They were cut in two by the sword or hung, or burned alive, or tortured to betray others or forced into confessing that they were heretics and the servants of Satan. Their scriptures, some just pieces of scrolls, were confiscated. Their histories and other written records taken and returned to the Vatican or burned upon the bodies of the victims who carried them. This then, was the real definition of the “Dark Ages”as the so-called “Holy Church” became the enemy of Jesus once again trying to burn or kill or crush Christians out of the earth. The Church itself became obese and bloated and power mad and hungry; it was saved a second time by the graciousness of Jesus Christ.

This was accomplished over many centuries through many of its own priests, including and especially the priest Martin Luthor, whose lifetime war within the church finally began the change both within and without the church. As the church split into Protestant factors the number of enemies became so great that the original church could not fight them all. It eventually came to make within the church the same return to practices and doctrine written in Holy scriptures that were established by God before, during, and immediately following the life of Christ that these other Protestant and Baptist factions had been following.The new Holy Roman Church, with the Pope as it’s head, still largely follow this doctrine today.The Pope and other church leaders still sit, some unknowingly, like ignorant guardians, over the secret histories of its former enemies.

For reasons, politic — or – for reasons, other: these documents remain now and forever in darkness. They are kept by the darkness and owned by the darkness. That is, until, some curious one, some powerful one, within the Vatican — out of curiosity or by some other, perhaps divine motivation — finds one and begins to peruse the old languages. And, being moved of the spirit, trying to move the document out of the darkness and into the light meets with adversity. Over the course of fifteen hundred years many a priest have been martyred, murdered within the subterranian walls because they stumbled upon and wanted to free such a story from the darkness.The jealous darkness consumed them. Thus it has been rare when such a story could make it out — and always at such a cost. Even when this happens there is no possible way to verify its authority, whether true or false. Nor whether, even if it were truly from the recesses of the darkness below the Vatican, if it were a true account of the faithful, or merely myth or legend.

Thus it is with such intrepidation that I now offer this account. A story of faith, courage, power, and mystery — a story which reads like myth, but rings true as if history, a story that lifts the heart and soul and yet cannot be verified by any other fact or history or evidence existing. A story told to someone close to the one whose story it tells, who left this record of faith, hope and courage during a time of miracles. The story takes place during the Dark Ages sometime after 900 A.D. when Rome is exercising a stranglehold over the world through its church while battling the new enemy of Islam to it’s east. A time when true Christianity exists side by side with paganism to Rome’s north and west hiding in plain sight, waiting for a true Christian hero to emerge and bring light once more into the darkness of the world.

“And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be manifest, that they are wrought in God.”

The tale begins here.

To the adventurous gamer:

(The preceding was your intro to the setting of the game, it’s parameters, as it were. What follows is a narrative Christian fictional story introducing your character. Let’s call it ‘Chapter One’ of our joint fictional adventure. Because of its length I am posting it in two posts: Chapter One. Part 1 and Chapter One, Part 2. They are all one chapter that for ease of posting has been broken. At the end of chapter one you will have been introduced to your player character, know his skills, and powers and possessions and be thrust into a great hazard that you must resolve with your own imagination, principals backed up by scripture and your own sense of great story telling. There are things that cannot be understood till you read the chapter so a note with more clarity will follow at the end of chapter one.)

To the non-gamer, curious Christian fiction reader:

(Don’t go anywhere. Proceed directly to the next post. You will be thoroughly entertained by the Christian fiction that follows. You will be inspired and maybe challenged and maybe even see a little bit of miraculous magic, if not similar, at least as inspired as that created by C.S.Lewis. You have nothing to lose, and only inspiration to gain.)

This game was referenced in a previous post here at Gary’s Incites,  it was a posting of the original letter that accompanied this introduction and Chapter One that I sent to my son, Christian. You can find it on this site under the Gaming category titled, “The Need for a Good Christian RPG”

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Alternative History: Disney Wolf Brings Nation to its Knees

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Disney Resorts the Largest Christian Ministry in America

Disney as a Christian ministry? Millions of American families every year flock to the Christian themed Disney vacation playgrounds of California, Florida, Missouri and the recently opened Buffalo, New York resorts. Looking back on the 50 years of Disney resort history that started with a mouse, probably wouldn’t have gotten where it was without a wolf.

Disney Characters: Beloved or Scary

While Mickey Mouse was Disney’s first big screen hero, and while children will always love Minnie, Donald, Clarence, Clarabell, Pluto and others, it was Snow White that thrust Disney into the movie making business. Pinnoccio, Dumbo, Sleeping Beauty showed American movie makers that children’s animated stories could reach adults with romance and adventure equal to any live action movie. Perhaps Walt was taking a tip from Cecil B. Demile when in 1958 he began production on what was to become the turning point in Disney history: Little Red Riding Hood. Everyone knows this story. And we know it’s villain. We saw him years earlier in Disney’s Silly Symphonies ‘Three Little Pigs.’ As a child he terrified me, that Big Bad Wolf. Who knew he would transform the American culture?

Little Red Riding Hood (1959); Disney’s Greatest Movie

Disney always takes liberty with their stories. I mean, do we really want to see a Brothers Grimm version of Cinderella? Dark and gruesome. (I must confess a little desire to see crows eat the eyes out of the wicked stepsisters). Disney is a master at taking gruesome material and making it G-Rated material. More than that. With its heart-touching drama, swelling, inspiring music and eye blasting color and art, Disney movies are emotionally transforming. And this was never more so apparent than in The Little Red Riding Hood movie released in 1959 and winning Disney an unprecedented 8 Academy Awards for a single movie, beating Ben Hur for Best Picture. And winning over audiences as the best Christian movie, ever.

As Only Disney Could

Yes, typically Disney, we had our plethora of new talking forest animals who did their best behind the scenes to protect the naive and innocent Mary from falling prey to the evil wicked Big Bad Wolf. Biblically themed throughout the movie, the animals weren’t the only ones quoting scripture. Grandma did a tremendous job holding her own in an argument with the wolf using the bible as both a sword in the literary sense and as a literal one too.

Beginning of a Revolution

But it was the final scene that is remembered most fondly by those who love Disney movies. After a hopeful expectation that the woodcutter would rescue Mary and her animal partners, when the woodcutter was accidentally dispatched, we lost all hope. Disney is a master at this too. Emotionally on edge we watched an evil, hungry monster approach her. Our fear was real. Then, calmly, Mary turns, down on her knees in prayer, soft and earnest. She is joined by her friends. Maybe because she forgave him, maybe, because we in the audience were praying too. Maybe, just because Disney is master at this as well, we saw the monster transform. We saw him confront his own mental image, his wickedness, and melt into regret. There were no dry eyes in the darkness as we watched a former monster get down on his knees as Mary helped him become a child of God. We left the theatre that day not only happy and complete, but transformed ourselves.

Wolf Replaces Mouse as Iconic Figure

Not only did the movie break attendance records in 1959, but it generated 18-theatrical shorts featuring, ‘The Good Wolf.’ And 8-theatrical shorts featuring the ‘Gospel Animals.’ The success of the picture had a lot of cultural fallout, the least of which was America’s need for Christian vacation resorts. Disney transformed its California Park from a mouse theme park to a Christian themed park. How can we forget the iconic statue of the humble wolf on his knees at the foot of the cross. Demand created more theme parks in Orlando, Florida; Branson Missouri and Buffalo, New York as well as 5 international parks overseas (but then I don’t have to tell you Disney’s history)

Spiritual Fruit of the ’60’s

What I would like to bring to your remembrance what it did for America. Not only did Disney start doing more movies from great Biblical stories. And even help create the first Christian educational channel for cable, but other movie studios and networks picked up the trend. In fact, good family entertainment was a staple of the 1950’s. Disney influenced that trend to continue well into the sixties and seventies, during a time when there was potential for great turmoil and spiritual corruption. Can you imagine what the 60’s and 70’s would have been like without the great Christian revival initiated by Disney?

What 1960-1970’s Could Have Looked Like: A Scary Picture for America

Let me paint you a scary picture. After the close of World War I when America was recovering from its wounds. Americans began to question the existence of God. Prosperity, mobility, humanism, needs of greedy men generated an era known as the ‘Roaring Twenties.’ We can easily see where America would be in the 60’s and ’70’s without the Evangelistic Revolution. What would America have looked like in this alternate version of history: anti-tradition rebellion, an increase of sexual abandon leading to a generation of fatherless children, a pervasive need for selfishness. abandonment of Christian ideals: parenthood, charity, responsibility. Perhaps a willingness to kill unwanted fatherless children (which would be a financial ruin to a selfish nation) or terminate the physically or mentally ill, or aged. Or like the return of the twenties: a proliferation of drugs and alcohol. Aren’t you glad that did not happen? Can you imagine what an America today would be like if we lived through an era like that?

A Grateful, Thankful Nation Should Thank Disney

Next Sunday when you take your family to church you might want to thank God for a wolf that kept Christianity alive and vibrant in your nation. The majority in this nation are faithful and still live by principals erected upon the foundation of America. And we continue as a nation of faith, families, prosperity, with goodness in its heroes, its media and its news. We exist as a nation that still upholds Christian ideas as our platform and maybe this began when we watched a bad wolf become a good wolf and knew if that could happen to the most wicked thing we knew, it could happen to America.

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