It is dark, restful and quiet here. It is safe, I feel at peace. Ah, sleep.
Monday, February 28, 2005
An Apology for Sleeping in Church-Part 1
To sleep, to dream, perchance.
HarleyDad has a God given gift. It is to sleep. It all began as a baby when I had what my parents called gasoline cholic. I could not go to sleep at night unless my parents took me for a ride in the car. Then off to beddy time I would go. Now as a sometimes adult I find I have the ability to go to sleep in cars, trains and automobiles. I generally try not to be driving when this happens. After a few yawns from HarleyDad, Brokerbelle begins to look nervous. She takes over driving the vehicle and off to slumber time HarleyDad goes. My finest hours are when I am asleep in the car.
There is one other place that I love to sleep. It is in church. The rumor is that HarleyDad sometimes attends church at St. Mattress of the Springs.
Now the general wisdom is that you should not go to sleep in church. This is generally a myth propagated by preachers, ministers and other men and women of the cloth. After all if HarleyDad goes to sleep in church, then others may soon follow his leadership. There is nothing like a minister pounding on the pulpit and a HarleyDad asleep like a baby in the third row to cause the minister not to be taken seriously. Who knows where it may lead. Pretty soon everyone will be sleeping in church. Those trying to listen to the pastoral wisdom will not be able to because of the loud snoring. Further snoring may be confused in some charismatic churches with speaking in tongues; but then those people trying to interpret the tongues get all confused. For this reason many churches refuse to classify sleeping as one of the spiritual gifts.
Nonetheless, HarleyDad has found sleeping in church to be the peaceful gift. It causes no harm. It is not disputatious. It accepth all.
However, it is a well known fact, that when the offering is taken, those who sleep do not contribute. This could spell disaster for the financing of the modern church.
Then there is the falling off the chair syndrome. Pretty soon if you are asleep you fall off the chair and hit the floor. Now if you are in a Pentecostal church they may think you are being slain in the Spirit. If you are in a more traditional church they may wonder if you are drunk and question why you are lying in the aisle. To say the least to have some one rolling around the aisles of the church is very disconcerting and may cause the church to loose its reputation due to the fact that there are “holy rollers.”
Sleeping in church is also considered to be in bad form because it suggests that the sleeper has been frequenting bars all night. This however is manifestly unfair and those who sleep in churches are often victims of the sermon as opposed to being victims of drink. In short, pastors have them selves to blame. Well, may be not. I guess if you are sound a sleep, you can sleep even though a good sermon although a good sermon might cause you not to go to sleep in the first place.
For those unable to come up with good sermons, simply shouting at the sheep generally will work. If that doesn’t work, they might try something like” “Brother HarleyDad are you sleeping?” When HarleyDad does not respond appropriately, they can say “Brokerbelle, is your husband HarleyDad asleep?” At which time Brokerbelle or Princessbelle jabs HarleyDad sharply in the ribs and HarleyDad replies: “Huh, where am I-Oh you mean the sermon isn’t over yet.”
Pastors will point to a number of good reasons why you should not enjoy a good nights sleep in the middle of their messages. The first story they like to tell is the story of Eutychus. The Scripture goes like this beginning in Acts 20:
v.7 On the first day of the week, when we were gathered together to break bread, Paul began talking to them, intending to leave the next day, and he prolonged his message until midnight.
v.8 There were many lamps in the upper room where we were gathered together.
v.9 And there was a young man sitting on the window sill, sinking into a deep sleep; and as Paul kept on talking, he was overcome by sleep and fell down from the third floor and was picked up dead.
v.10 But Paul went down and fell upon him, and after embracing him, Do not be troubled for his life is in him.
v.11 When he had gone back up and had broken bread and eaten, he talked with them a long time until daybreak, and then left.
v.12 They took away the boy alive, and were greatly comforted.
According to the Pastors, Ministers and Priests, the lesson is simple: Fall asleep and you are dead meat.
However HarleyDad takes a closer look at Scripture and here are my conclusions:
The issue is where do you go to sleep. Never sleep on a window three stories up. It is simply too far to fall. Go to sleep under your chair or crawl under the pew. In either case it is closer to the ground and less dangerous.
Paul healed the sleeper. So no harm –no foul. This illustrates that God is full of grace and his mercies extend to those who sleep
Third, the only person that got embraced by Paul was Eutychus. God loves a good sleeper and so did Paul.
A good sleeper will not interrupt a good preacher even if he dies on the spot.
A good sleeper will not even slow a good preacher down. Paul healed him, had a snack, and preached on to day light.
Back in those days, they really knew how to preach. No more Mr. Nice Preacher that lets out on time for Sunday lunch. Paul just kept on going. At midnight he was preaching. When morning came he was preaching. He was like that pink bunny that beats the drum-he just a kept on going. So good sleepin’ does not get in the way of good preachin’.
So I end with the prayer of Eutychus:
Now I go to church as a sheep
Help me during the service well to sleep
And I pray that I my not learch
And fall to the floor from my pearch.
And if I fall upon my face.
A good minister will me embrace.
Amen.
HarleyDad will deal with more Scriptures regarding Sleeping in Church in the near future.
HarleyDad has a God given gift. It is to sleep. It all began as a baby when I had what my parents called gasoline cholic. I could not go to sleep at night unless my parents took me for a ride in the car. Then off to beddy time I would go. Now as a sometimes adult I find I have the ability to go to sleep in cars, trains and automobiles. I generally try not to be driving when this happens. After a few yawns from HarleyDad, Brokerbelle begins to look nervous. She takes over driving the vehicle and off to slumber time HarleyDad goes. My finest hours are when I am asleep in the car.
There is one other place that I love to sleep. It is in church. The rumor is that HarleyDad sometimes attends church at St. Mattress of the Springs.
Now the general wisdom is that you should not go to sleep in church. This is generally a myth propagated by preachers, ministers and other men and women of the cloth. After all if HarleyDad goes to sleep in church, then others may soon follow his leadership. There is nothing like a minister pounding on the pulpit and a HarleyDad asleep like a baby in the third row to cause the minister not to be taken seriously. Who knows where it may lead. Pretty soon everyone will be sleeping in church. Those trying to listen to the pastoral wisdom will not be able to because of the loud snoring. Further snoring may be confused in some charismatic churches with speaking in tongues; but then those people trying to interpret the tongues get all confused. For this reason many churches refuse to classify sleeping as one of the spiritual gifts.
Nonetheless, HarleyDad has found sleeping in church to be the peaceful gift. It causes no harm. It is not disputatious. It accepth all.
However, it is a well known fact, that when the offering is taken, those who sleep do not contribute. This could spell disaster for the financing of the modern church.
Then there is the falling off the chair syndrome. Pretty soon if you are asleep you fall off the chair and hit the floor. Now if you are in a Pentecostal church they may think you are being slain in the Spirit. If you are in a more traditional church they may wonder if you are drunk and question why you are lying in the aisle. To say the least to have some one rolling around the aisles of the church is very disconcerting and may cause the church to loose its reputation due to the fact that there are “holy rollers.”
Sleeping in church is also considered to be in bad form because it suggests that the sleeper has been frequenting bars all night. This however is manifestly unfair and those who sleep in churches are often victims of the sermon as opposed to being victims of drink. In short, pastors have them selves to blame. Well, may be not. I guess if you are sound a sleep, you can sleep even though a good sermon although a good sermon might cause you not to go to sleep in the first place.
For those unable to come up with good sermons, simply shouting at the sheep generally will work. If that doesn’t work, they might try something like” “Brother HarleyDad are you sleeping?” When HarleyDad does not respond appropriately, they can say “Brokerbelle, is your husband HarleyDad asleep?” At which time Brokerbelle or Princessbelle jabs HarleyDad sharply in the ribs and HarleyDad replies: “Huh, where am I-Oh you mean the sermon isn’t over yet.”
Pastors will point to a number of good reasons why you should not enjoy a good nights sleep in the middle of their messages. The first story they like to tell is the story of Eutychus. The Scripture goes like this beginning in Acts 20:
v.7 On the first day of the week, when we were gathered together to break bread, Paul began talking to them, intending to leave the next day, and he prolonged his message until midnight.
v.8 There were many lamps in the upper room where we were gathered together.
v.9 And there was a young man sitting on the window sill, sinking into a deep sleep; and as Paul kept on talking, he was overcome by sleep and fell down from the third floor and was picked up dead.
v.10 But Paul went down and fell upon him, and after embracing him, Do not be troubled for his life is in him.
v.11 When he had gone back up and had broken bread and eaten, he talked with them a long time until daybreak, and then left.
v.12 They took away the boy alive, and were greatly comforted.
According to the Pastors, Ministers and Priests, the lesson is simple: Fall asleep and you are dead meat.
However HarleyDad takes a closer look at Scripture and here are my conclusions:
The issue is where do you go to sleep. Never sleep on a window three stories up. It is simply too far to fall. Go to sleep under your chair or crawl under the pew. In either case it is closer to the ground and less dangerous.
Paul healed the sleeper. So no harm –no foul. This illustrates that God is full of grace and his mercies extend to those who sleep
Third, the only person that got embraced by Paul was Eutychus. God loves a good sleeper and so did Paul.
A good sleeper will not interrupt a good preacher even if he dies on the spot.
A good sleeper will not even slow a good preacher down. Paul healed him, had a snack, and preached on to day light.
Back in those days, they really knew how to preach. No more Mr. Nice Preacher that lets out on time for Sunday lunch. Paul just kept on going. At midnight he was preaching. When morning came he was preaching. He was like that pink bunny that beats the drum-he just a kept on going. So good sleepin’ does not get in the way of good preachin’.
So I end with the prayer of Eutychus:
Now I go to church as a sheep
Help me during the service well to sleep
And I pray that I my not learch
And fall to the floor from my pearch.
And if I fall upon my face.
A good minister will me embrace.
Amen.
HarleyDad will deal with more Scriptures regarding Sleeping in Church in the near future.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Lone Wolf
Lone Wolf
Even as a child the “Lone Wolf” was my nick-name.
I preferred being by myself, and reading-being alone.
Although I love people, I was probably most happy when I was alone.
Not that we are ever truly alone.
I believe that the person who loves God is loved by God. Perhaps more accurately, the person who God loves is loved indeed.
That person is never alone.
So when I write this late at night
Or am riding my Harley into the light
I am never truly alone.
God is there in the room.
He is with me on the computer as I write.
He goes with me as I ride my Harley into the night.
Even as a child the “Lone Wolf” was my nick-name.
I preferred being by myself, and reading-being alone.
Although I love people, I was probably most happy when I was alone.
Not that we are ever truly alone.
I believe that the person who loves God is loved by God. Perhaps more accurately, the person who God loves is loved indeed.
That person is never alone.
So when I write this late at night
Or am riding my Harley into the light
I am never truly alone.
God is there in the room.
He is with me on the computer as I write.
He goes with me as I ride my Harley into the night.
Friendship
Some lessons about friends and friendship:
1. Friendship is built upon truth.
2. Friendship is a two way street-not a one way street.
3. Sometimes the pain of a friend's heart requires you to change your schedule.
4. What is despised and not valued is often lost.
5. A kind response can save a friendship from breaking up.
6. It is not always clear where friendship ends and love begins.
7. Friendship involves listening. But it is not just about listening-but also about sharing.
8. Friends share secrets.
9. Friends share both heartaches and joy.
10. Friends open their hearts to their friends. They take risks in sharing.
11. The writings of your heart are like children. When they are rejected and despised, it is like somone rejecting your own children.
12. Friendship requires time.
13. Sometimes one important friendship trumps another friendship and a friendship is broken.
14. A good friendship is like a rare and precious jewel.
15. Friendships are deep and of the heart. They involve a covenant relationship and pledges.
16. Friendships require confidentiality. If there is not confidentiality, there can be no sharing.
17. Friends believe other friends.
18. It is bitter when a friend betrays a friend.
19. Consideration is a two way street.
20. Friends should not be overdemanding.
21. Friends should not be overly possessive. The other friend should have the opportunity for other friendships.
Proverb 17:17 says: "A friend loves at all times."
H.D.
1. Friendship is built upon truth.
2. Friendship is a two way street-not a one way street.
3. Sometimes the pain of a friend's heart requires you to change your schedule.
4. What is despised and not valued is often lost.
5. A kind response can save a friendship from breaking up.
6. It is not always clear where friendship ends and love begins.
7. Friendship involves listening. But it is not just about listening-but also about sharing.
8. Friends share secrets.
9. Friends share both heartaches and joy.
10. Friends open their hearts to their friends. They take risks in sharing.
11. The writings of your heart are like children. When they are rejected and despised, it is like somone rejecting your own children.
12. Friendship requires time.
13. Sometimes one important friendship trumps another friendship and a friendship is broken.
14. A good friendship is like a rare and precious jewel.
15. Friendships are deep and of the heart. They involve a covenant relationship and pledges.
16. Friendships require confidentiality. If there is not confidentiality, there can be no sharing.
17. Friends believe other friends.
18. It is bitter when a friend betrays a friend.
19. Consideration is a two way street.
20. Friends should not be overdemanding.
21. Friends should not be overly possessive. The other friend should have the opportunity for other friendships.
Proverb 17:17 says: "A friend loves at all times."
H.D.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
How about a Donut?
I do not know where this came from. I found the story below saved on my wife's computer. I suspect someone needs to know this and so I reproduce it below. It is not mine-but I wish I had written it.
Would You Like A Donut?
There was a certain Professor of Religion named Dr. Christianson, astudious man who taught at a small college in the Western United States. Dr.Christianson taught the required survey course in Christianity at thisparticular institution. Every student was required to take this coursehis or her freshman year regardless of his or her major.
Although Dr.Christianson tried hard to communicate the essence of the gospel in his class, he found that most of his students looked upon the course asnothing but required drudgery. Despite his best efforts, most students refused to take Christianity seriously.This year, Dr. Christianson had a special student named Steve. Steve wasonly a freshman, but was studying with the intent of going onto seminaryfor the ministry. Steve was popular, he was well liked, and he was animposing physical specimen. He was now the starting center on the school football team, and was the best student in the professor's class.
One day, Dr. Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he couldtalk with him. "How many push-ups can you do?"Steve said, "I do about 200 every night.""200? That's pretty good, Steve," Dr. Christianson said."Do you think you could do 300?"Steve replied, "I don't know... I've never done 300 at a time.""Do you think you could?" again asked Dr. Christianson."Well, I can try," said Steve."Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I have a class project in mind and I needyou to do about 300 push-ups in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it?I need you to tell me you can do it," said the professor.Steve said, "Well... I think I can...yeah, I can do it."Dr. Christianson said, "Good! I need you to do this on Friday. Let me explain what I have in mind."
Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of theroom. When class started, the professor pulled out a big box of donuts. No,these weren't the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind,with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend with a party in Dr. Christianson's class.
Dr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked,"Cynthia, do you want to have one of these donuts?"Cynthia said, "Yes."Dr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve, would you doten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?""Sure." Steve jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Stev eagain sat in his desk. Dr. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia's desk.
Dr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, "Joe, do you want a donut?"Joe said, "Yes."Dr. Christianson asked, "Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?" Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut. And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten pushups for every person before they got their donut. And down the second aisle, till Dr. Christianson came to Scott.S cott was on the basketball team, and in as good condition as Steve. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship. When theprofessor asked, "Scott do you want a donut?"Scott's reply was, "Well, can I do my own pushups?"Dr. Christianson said, "No, Steve has to do them."Then Scott said, "Well, I don't want one then."Dr. Christianson shrugged and then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve,would you do ten pushups so Scott can have a donut he doesn't want?" With perfect obedience Steve started to do ten pushups. Scott said, "HEY! I said I didn't want one!"Dr. Christianson said, "Look, this is my classroom, my class, my desks,and these are my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don't want it."And he put a donut on Scott's desk.
Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow. Dr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students werebeginning to get a little angry.Dr. Christianson asked Jenny, "Jenny, do you want a donut?"Sternly, Jenny said, "No."Then Dr. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would you do ten more push-ups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn't want?" Steve did ten....Jenny got a donut. By now, a growing sense of uneasiness filled the room. The students were beginning to say "No" and there were all these uneaten donuts on thedesks. Steve also had to really put forth a lot of extra effort to get thesepushups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved.
Dr. Christianson asked Robert, who was the most vocal unbeliever in the class, to watch Steve do each push up to make sure he did the full tenpushups in a set because he couldn't bear to watch all of Steve's work for all of those uneaten donuts. He sent Robert over to where Steve was so Robert could count the set and watch Steve closely.
Dr. Christiansonstarted down the fourth row. During his class, however, some students from other classes had wandered in and sat down on the steps along the radiators that ran down the sides of the room. When the professor realized this, he did a quick count and saw that now there were 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Stevewould be able to make it. Dr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a roughtime. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set. Steve asked Dr. Christianson, "Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?"Dr. Christianson thought for a moment, "Well, they're your pushups. You are in charge now. You can do them any way that you want."
And Dr.Christianson went on.A few moments later, Jason, a recent transfer student, came to the roomand was about to come in when all the students yelled in one voice, "NO!Don't come in! Stay out!" Jason didn't know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, "No, let him come."Professor Christianson said, "You realize that if Jason comes in youwill have to do ten pushups for him?"Steve said, "Yes, let him come in. Give him a donut"Dr. Christianson said, "Okay, Steve, I'll let you get Jason's out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?"Jason, new to the room hardly knew what was going on. "Yes," he said,"give me a donut.""Steve, will you do ten push-ups so that Jason can have a donut?" Steve did ten pushups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.
Dr. Christianson finished the fourth row, then started on those visitors seated by the heaters. Steve's arms were now shaking with each push-upin a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. Sweat was profusely dropping off of his face and, by this time, there was no sound except his heavy breathing, there was not a dry eye in the room. The very last two students in the room were two young women, both cheerleaders, and very popular. Dr. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, "Linda, do you want a doughnut?"Linda said, very sadly, "No, thank you."Professor Christianson quietly asked, "Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn't want?" Grunting from the effort,Steve did ten very slow pushups for Linda.Then Dr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. "Susan, do youwant a donut?"Susan, with tears flowing down her face, began to cry. "Dr.Christianson, why can't I help him?"Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, "No, Steve has to do it alone, I have given him this task and he is in charge of seeing that everyone has an opportunity for a donut whether they want it or not.
When I decided to have a party this last day of class, I looked at my gradebook. Steve, here is the only student with a perfect grade. Everyone else has failed a test, skipped class, or offered me inferior work. Steve told me that in football practice, when a player messes up he must do push-ups.I told Steve that none of you could come to my party unless he paid the price by doing your push ups. He and I made a deal for your sakes. Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Susan can have a donut?" As Stevevery slowly finished his last pushup, with the understanding that he hadaccomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 push ups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.Dr. Christianson turned to the room and said. "And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, on the cross, plead to the Father, 'into thy hands I commend my spirit.' With the understanding that He had done everythingthat was required of Him, he yielded up His life. And like some of those in this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten."
Two students helped Steve up off the floor and to a seat, physically exhausted, but wearing a thin smile. "Well done, good and faithful servant," said the professor, adding "Not all sermons are preached in words."Turning to his class the professor said, "My wish is that you might understand and fully comprehend all the riches of grace and mercy that have been given to you through the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He spared not only His Begotten Son, but gave Him up for us all for the whole Church, now and forever. Whether or not we choose to accept His gift to us, the price has been paid. Wouldn't you be foolish and ungrateful to leave it laying on the desk.
Would You Like A Donut?
There was a certain Professor of Religion named Dr. Christianson, astudious man who taught at a small college in the Western United States. Dr.Christianson taught the required survey course in Christianity at thisparticular institution. Every student was required to take this coursehis or her freshman year regardless of his or her major.
Although Dr.Christianson tried hard to communicate the essence of the gospel in his class, he found that most of his students looked upon the course asnothing but required drudgery. Despite his best efforts, most students refused to take Christianity seriously.This year, Dr. Christianson had a special student named Steve. Steve wasonly a freshman, but was studying with the intent of going onto seminaryfor the ministry. Steve was popular, he was well liked, and he was animposing physical specimen. He was now the starting center on the school football team, and was the best student in the professor's class.
One day, Dr. Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he couldtalk with him. "How many push-ups can you do?"Steve said, "I do about 200 every night.""200? That's pretty good, Steve," Dr. Christianson said."Do you think you could do 300?"Steve replied, "I don't know... I've never done 300 at a time.""Do you think you could?" again asked Dr. Christianson."Well, I can try," said Steve."Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I have a class project in mind and I needyou to do about 300 push-ups in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it?I need you to tell me you can do it," said the professor.Steve said, "Well... I think I can...yeah, I can do it."Dr. Christianson said, "Good! I need you to do this on Friday. Let me explain what I have in mind."
Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of theroom. When class started, the professor pulled out a big box of donuts. No,these weren't the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind,with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend with a party in Dr. Christianson's class.
Dr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked,"Cynthia, do you want to have one of these donuts?"Cynthia said, "Yes."Dr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve, would you doten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?""Sure." Steve jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Stev eagain sat in his desk. Dr. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia's desk.
Dr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, "Joe, do you want a donut?"Joe said, "Yes."Dr. Christianson asked, "Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?" Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut. And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten pushups for every person before they got their donut. And down the second aisle, till Dr. Christianson came to Scott.S cott was on the basketball team, and in as good condition as Steve. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship. When theprofessor asked, "Scott do you want a donut?"Scott's reply was, "Well, can I do my own pushups?"Dr. Christianson said, "No, Steve has to do them."Then Scott said, "Well, I don't want one then."Dr. Christianson shrugged and then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve,would you do ten pushups so Scott can have a donut he doesn't want?" With perfect obedience Steve started to do ten pushups. Scott said, "HEY! I said I didn't want one!"Dr. Christianson said, "Look, this is my classroom, my class, my desks,and these are my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don't want it."And he put a donut on Scott's desk.
Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow. Dr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students werebeginning to get a little angry.Dr. Christianson asked Jenny, "Jenny, do you want a donut?"Sternly, Jenny said, "No."Then Dr. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would you do ten more push-ups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn't want?" Steve did ten....Jenny got a donut. By now, a growing sense of uneasiness filled the room. The students were beginning to say "No" and there were all these uneaten donuts on thedesks. Steve also had to really put forth a lot of extra effort to get thesepushups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved.
Dr. Christianson asked Robert, who was the most vocal unbeliever in the class, to watch Steve do each push up to make sure he did the full tenpushups in a set because he couldn't bear to watch all of Steve's work for all of those uneaten donuts. He sent Robert over to where Steve was so Robert could count the set and watch Steve closely.
Dr. Christiansonstarted down the fourth row. During his class, however, some students from other classes had wandered in and sat down on the steps along the radiators that ran down the sides of the room. When the professor realized this, he did a quick count and saw that now there were 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Stevewould be able to make it. Dr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a roughtime. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set. Steve asked Dr. Christianson, "Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?"Dr. Christianson thought for a moment, "Well, they're your pushups. You are in charge now. You can do them any way that you want."
And Dr.Christianson went on.A few moments later, Jason, a recent transfer student, came to the roomand was about to come in when all the students yelled in one voice, "NO!Don't come in! Stay out!" Jason didn't know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, "No, let him come."Professor Christianson said, "You realize that if Jason comes in youwill have to do ten pushups for him?"Steve said, "Yes, let him come in. Give him a donut"Dr. Christianson said, "Okay, Steve, I'll let you get Jason's out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?"Jason, new to the room hardly knew what was going on. "Yes," he said,"give me a donut.""Steve, will you do ten push-ups so that Jason can have a donut?" Steve did ten pushups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.
Dr. Christianson finished the fourth row, then started on those visitors seated by the heaters. Steve's arms were now shaking with each push-upin a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. Sweat was profusely dropping off of his face and, by this time, there was no sound except his heavy breathing, there was not a dry eye in the room. The very last two students in the room were two young women, both cheerleaders, and very popular. Dr. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, "Linda, do you want a doughnut?"Linda said, very sadly, "No, thank you."Professor Christianson quietly asked, "Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn't want?" Grunting from the effort,Steve did ten very slow pushups for Linda.Then Dr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. "Susan, do youwant a donut?"Susan, with tears flowing down her face, began to cry. "Dr.Christianson, why can't I help him?"Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, "No, Steve has to do it alone, I have given him this task and he is in charge of seeing that everyone has an opportunity for a donut whether they want it or not.
When I decided to have a party this last day of class, I looked at my gradebook. Steve, here is the only student with a perfect grade. Everyone else has failed a test, skipped class, or offered me inferior work. Steve told me that in football practice, when a player messes up he must do push-ups.I told Steve that none of you could come to my party unless he paid the price by doing your push ups. He and I made a deal for your sakes. Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Susan can have a donut?" As Stevevery slowly finished his last pushup, with the understanding that he hadaccomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 push ups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.Dr. Christianson turned to the room and said. "And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, on the cross, plead to the Father, 'into thy hands I commend my spirit.' With the understanding that He had done everythingthat was required of Him, he yielded up His life. And like some of those in this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten."
Two students helped Steve up off the floor and to a seat, physically exhausted, but wearing a thin smile. "Well done, good and faithful servant," said the professor, adding "Not all sermons are preached in words."Turning to his class the professor said, "My wish is that you might understand and fully comprehend all the riches of grace and mercy that have been given to you through the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He spared not only His Begotten Son, but gave Him up for us all for the whole Church, now and forever. Whether or not we choose to accept His gift to us, the price has been paid. Wouldn't you be foolish and ungrateful to leave it laying on the desk.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Dinner at Antoine's
It was my first BIG date. The City was New Orleans. The Year-- so long ago that I do not want to think about it.
But where to take her? How about Antoine's one of the finest restaurants, if not the oldest and best restaurant in New Orleans. Antoine's was founded in 1840 by Antoine Alciatore on St. Louis street.
So I went down and made the arrangements. I spoke with the Maitre' D and tipped him well so that I would be greeted by name and given the best table. I took a copy of the menu. The problem was that it was in French.
Back in the dark ages only French menus were used and there were NO English translations. But HarleyBoy had a plan. My next door neighbor was a very nice individual who spoke with a heavy Cajun accent. So heavy that you could almost not understand his English.
So my next door neighbor, Thibodeaux, was my ticket to romantic success through fine dining. I bring my Antoine's menu to Thibodeaux who says in his thick Cajun French accent: "The menu is in French." Of course it is , I reply, I need you to translate it. Thibodeaux replies: "Ernie, I don't read French." But you speak with a French accent, I reply. Thibodeaux says: "Ernie, I just speak this way, I don't know any French." Romance derailed.
Finally I get the menu translated, went out and we had a wonderful time.
Antoine's was my introduction to fine French cuisine and I have been an affecianado for years .
New Orleans is known as the City of Fine Eating with wonderful French-Cajun cuisine. It has many fine restaurants including Arnaud's, Emeril's, Commander's Palace, Gallatoire's and many more.
They are all great. But I will always remember my first Dinner at Antoine's.
But where to take her? How about Antoine's one of the finest restaurants, if not the oldest and best restaurant in New Orleans. Antoine's was founded in 1840 by Antoine Alciatore on St. Louis street.
So I went down and made the arrangements. I spoke with the Maitre' D and tipped him well so that I would be greeted by name and given the best table. I took a copy of the menu. The problem was that it was in French.
Back in the dark ages only French menus were used and there were NO English translations. But HarleyBoy had a plan. My next door neighbor was a very nice individual who spoke with a heavy Cajun accent. So heavy that you could almost not understand his English.
So my next door neighbor, Thibodeaux, was my ticket to romantic success through fine dining. I bring my Antoine's menu to Thibodeaux who says in his thick Cajun French accent: "The menu is in French." Of course it is , I reply, I need you to translate it. Thibodeaux replies: "Ernie, I don't read French." But you speak with a French accent, I reply. Thibodeaux says: "Ernie, I just speak this way, I don't know any French." Romance derailed.
Finally I get the menu translated, went out and we had a wonderful time.
Antoine's was my introduction to fine French cuisine and I have been an affecianado for years .
New Orleans is known as the City of Fine Eating with wonderful French-Cajun cuisine. It has many fine restaurants including Arnaud's, Emeril's, Commander's Palace, Gallatoire's and many more.
They are all great. But I will always remember my first Dinner at Antoine's.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
One True Word
I like the writing of Ernest Hemingway.
One day many years ago I was reading The Old Man and the Sea and I remember saying to myself: "This is great writing. What a great book." That realization sneeks up on you like the soft glow that follows a wonderful meal where everything was right.
And speaking of a good meal, I am reading "A Movable Feast" by Hemingway. In it Hemingway writes:
"I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know." I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say."
One true sentence. Hemingway always knew that one true sentence.
My goal is just to write that one true sentence, to speak that one good word. Solomon said that a word fitly spoken was like apples of gold on a plate of silver (Proverbs 25:11). The New American Standard Version translates it like this: "Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word spoken in right circumstances."
The goal then is to write or say the right thing at the right time. To write or speak the true word. A true word brings blessing, hope, comfort and love. There is an excellence in it. It is the arrow rightly shot. It is a golf ball truly hit. It is not done to win the game. Instead it is done as worship to the true God and Maker of the Universe. It is the sacrifice of excellence.
May both my written word and spoken word contain hope, encouragement and love. If it does not, then may my mouth be mute and my hand broken.
My choice is to speak the one true word to write the one true word. And may that word be delivered in the right time. It will take practice and sacrifice. I hope I have it in me.
That is all I want-just one true word. One.
One day many years ago I was reading The Old Man and the Sea and I remember saying to myself: "This is great writing. What a great book." That realization sneeks up on you like the soft glow that follows a wonderful meal where everything was right.
And speaking of a good meal, I am reading "A Movable Feast" by Hemingway. In it Hemingway writes:
"I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know." I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say."
One true sentence. Hemingway always knew that one true sentence.
My goal is just to write that one true sentence, to speak that one good word. Solomon said that a word fitly spoken was like apples of gold on a plate of silver (Proverbs 25:11). The New American Standard Version translates it like this: "Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word spoken in right circumstances."
The goal then is to write or say the right thing at the right time. To write or speak the true word. A true word brings blessing, hope, comfort and love. There is an excellence in it. It is the arrow rightly shot. It is a golf ball truly hit. It is not done to win the game. Instead it is done as worship to the true God and Maker of the Universe. It is the sacrifice of excellence.
May both my written word and spoken word contain hope, encouragement and love. If it does not, then may my mouth be mute and my hand broken.
My choice is to speak the one true word to write the one true word. And may that word be delivered in the right time. It will take practice and sacrifice. I hope I have it in me.
That is all I want-just one true word. One.
Monday, February 21, 2005
The Love of Opera
Where does the love of opera come from?
The story of my life can probably be summed up by thinking of an opera lover who lives in Nashville, or Branson, that's even better.
The people I that I love -they love country and western. So I guess I love country and western because I love them.
But I love Opera. I watched the Movie "Moonstruck" and it spoke to me. In that movie Loretta Castorini (played by Cher) meets Rommy Cammareri (played by 23 year old Nicholas Cage). In the course of their date to the New York Opera to hear La Boheme, Loretta leaves the opera learning that she loves both Rommy and opera even though she does not understand either. Cher got an academy award for her role as Loretta and Nicholas Cage got a movie career.
I fell into love with opera, I believe, as a young boy. I remember laying in the bed with windows open (we had no airconditioning) and hearing opera played by our next door neighbors Dick and Ginny Wiseample. Dick had been a soldier in World War II and had lots of German coins that he gave me as a young boy. He would also let me hang around his shop in his garage and ask those questions that every young kid asks. People are not so kind these days, unfortunately. He was a simple man, but he and his wife had somehow come to love opera.
At any rate, I would hear the beautiful music. Also my folks had one of two recordings of operas including LaTraviata. Somehow it got into my blood. Like Cher's character, I was touched by it even though I did not know the words. It was the music of the soul.
Later I would take music appreciation and I actually learned somehow to really appreciate music but opera was my first love, and I loved it before I came to appreciate it.
As a teenager I would occasionally go to operas in New Orleans. I would take dates but none of them succumbed to the love of opera like Cher did in Moonstruck. Generally they were too long, too boring and in a foreign language for people who did not already love it to show any patience. But I loved it anyway.
As I have grown older the love of opera has become more intense, more deep. Rest assured I don't much spend much time going to operas in Ozarklandia. We have none.
Operas are about tragedies and the tragedies in our hearts respond somehow to the tragedies that are found in opera. The plaintiff cry of the soul goes out and is answered in turn by the cry in our own hearts as though two rare birds call and respond to each other in the night.
For whatever reason, my love for Puccini has grown with age.. It was Puccini that wrote La Boheme. I have a number of collections of Puccini's music and I often play them as I drive through the Wilderness. Puccini's music speaks to the deep emotions of the heart. In particular, I love Madame Butterfly.
One of the great pieces of music is Nessun Dorma (No One's Sleeping from the opera Turandot). To hear the molody of Nessun Dorma, click here. To hear Nessun Dorma sung, click here.
Opera speaks to the deep recesses of the heart.
To the rest of the world, we are the mad, insane people-having a deep love and affection for something they do not like.
Opera must be like caviar and great Russian vodka, to those who love it --it is wonderful. To those who do not, they do not.
I love opera.
HarleyDad
The story of my life can probably be summed up by thinking of an opera lover who lives in Nashville, or Branson, that's even better.
The people I that I love -they love country and western. So I guess I love country and western because I love them.
But I love Opera. I watched the Movie "Moonstruck" and it spoke to me. In that movie Loretta Castorini (played by Cher) meets Rommy Cammareri (played by 23 year old Nicholas Cage). In the course of their date to the New York Opera to hear La Boheme, Loretta leaves the opera learning that she loves both Rommy and opera even though she does not understand either. Cher got an academy award for her role as Loretta and Nicholas Cage got a movie career.
I fell into love with opera, I believe, as a young boy. I remember laying in the bed with windows open (we had no airconditioning) and hearing opera played by our next door neighbors Dick and Ginny Wiseample. Dick had been a soldier in World War II and had lots of German coins that he gave me as a young boy. He would also let me hang around his shop in his garage and ask those questions that every young kid asks. People are not so kind these days, unfortunately. He was a simple man, but he and his wife had somehow come to love opera.
At any rate, I would hear the beautiful music. Also my folks had one of two recordings of operas including LaTraviata. Somehow it got into my blood. Like Cher's character, I was touched by it even though I did not know the words. It was the music of the soul.
Later I would take music appreciation and I actually learned somehow to really appreciate music but opera was my first love, and I loved it before I came to appreciate it.
As a teenager I would occasionally go to operas in New Orleans. I would take dates but none of them succumbed to the love of opera like Cher did in Moonstruck. Generally they were too long, too boring and in a foreign language for people who did not already love it to show any patience. But I loved it anyway.
As I have grown older the love of opera has become more intense, more deep. Rest assured I don't much spend much time going to operas in Ozarklandia. We have none.
Operas are about tragedies and the tragedies in our hearts respond somehow to the tragedies that are found in opera. The plaintiff cry of the soul goes out and is answered in turn by the cry in our own hearts as though two rare birds call and respond to each other in the night.
For whatever reason, my love for Puccini has grown with age.. It was Puccini that wrote La Boheme. I have a number of collections of Puccini's music and I often play them as I drive through the Wilderness. Puccini's music speaks to the deep emotions of the heart. In particular, I love Madame Butterfly.
One of the great pieces of music is Nessun Dorma (No One's Sleeping from the opera Turandot). To hear the molody of Nessun Dorma, click here. To hear Nessun Dorma sung, click here.
Opera speaks to the deep recesses of the heart.
To the rest of the world, we are the mad, insane people-having a deep love and affection for something they do not like.
Opera must be like caviar and great Russian vodka, to those who love it --it is wonderful. To those who do not, they do not.
I love opera.
HarleyDad
Sunday, February 20, 2005
NoShow
HarleyDad went for a Harley Ride today. I went to NoSho Mo. Things are beautiful in NoShow. Above are pictures. I love Ozarklandia. Love is in the air and it is still February. Eat your heart out, Snowbirds. When the Groundhog forecasted more Winter in Ozarklandia, we shot him and had him for supper.
HarleyDad
HarleyDad
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Is it a court house? (Used to be)
Is it the Bonx School of Science (No, that is what it wanted to be)
Is it Franklin Sr. High School (It was when we went there but the school has moved on to newer but not necessarily better properties.)
Above is the temple of learning
nestled in the Crescent City near the levee
Where active minds came to be challenged
And ended up challenging those who came to teach them.
Hungry minds, stretching, and growing and becoming more
aggressive and ravenous as they grew into maturity
Minds that chose not to sleep or rest
and after all these years still question and test.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)