Insightful Article by Tony Schwartz

This truly sums up one of the dilemmas of the age - information overload combined with technology dominance.

I highly recommend you read this.  Here is the link - http://bit.ly/L9TOKX.

Is Christianity Really, Really for Real?

The factors that answer the question for me most clearly have to do with the behavior of Christ’s followers, before and after his crucifixion. When Jesus was arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane, his followers scattered like scared rabbits. Peter followed cautiously at a distance while the temple soldiers took him to the home of the high priest for a mock trial that was itself illegal according to Jewish law.

Peter then proceeded to deny he even knew Jesus – three times, just as the Savior had predicted. He then left the courtyard and the scriptures say he wept bitterly.

The rest of the remaining eleven disciples, minus Judas, the betrayer, who hanged himself, were likewise “unavailable for comment” while Christ was being beaten, brutally interrogated, and abused.  The disciples were strangely absent from the narrative when Christ was taken before the Roman authorities and reluctantly sentenced to death by crucifixion by the notorious Roman Governor Pilate.

Even as Christ was crucified, the Bible indicates that they watched “from afar off.” They clearly did not want to be implicated and maybe face the same fate as Jesus.

Why then, their sudden change of heart?  Why did they become the soldiers for God who willingly suffered abuse, humiliation, imprisonment, torture, and cruel deaths for the sake of a crucified Savior?  Either something happened that set fire to their very souls after the crucifixion or they were all nuts. No other explanation fits. The likelihood that they were all insane is of course slim and remote. These were intelligent people. They knew what they were doing.

What then about the apostle Paul? He persecuted Christians, throwing them into prison and was an accessory to their murders, all in the name of his religion. He was feared among the fledgling Christian community for his zeal and his ruthlessness. Then something happened on the road to Damascus, and he became arguably the greatest missionary who ever lived and a man who wrote a large part of the New Testament. Why? What sort of thing could logically happen to turn a committed Jew one hundred and eighty degrees in the other direction?

I believe the answer of course in all these instances is that they had an encounter with the risen Christ. Nothing else answers nor makes the slightest sense in the radical transformation that occurred in each of their lives.

Is Christianity for real?  I cannot answer the question for you. You must answer the question for yourself. However, I can testify to what I have seen and what I know. I can apply logic and reason, and arrive at the conclusion that there is no other reason Christ’s followers would have been so radically transformed other than that he rose from the dead. From scared mice scattering in all directions after Jesus’s crucifixion, to powerful expounders of the gospel. From despised persecutor of the early church, to committed follower of Christ. They all clearly encountered a fundamentally transformational event. They met the risen Christ.

Rebirth

Copyright 2009

While the sun still lies in repose

            just below the rim of the rested earth

and stars yet dot the sky, winking eyes

            watching with care their fading domain

God’s hand revolving the world with ease

            breaks the dawn but the stars persist

in their shining as if asking “let us stay.”

But God has plans for a new day and

            the crescent moon on the cobalt winter sky

smiles shyly and fades along with the stars

            and God’s new day is born without weeping

Seasons

Poor blog.  Lost and lonely, sitting there neglected for months on end.  Here I am again, better late than never they say.

A lot has happened in recent months.  I lost a brother-in-law, Dennis, to something called pulmonary fibrosis.  It is a wicked disease that comes from inhaling asbestos and other troublesome things from the air in power plants and similar places. 

My daughter Christi was diagnosed with breast cancer and has had a radical mastectomy.  She is chipper and hopeful, and about to start a round of chemotherapy.  It is tough duty for a dad to watch his daughter go through this, tough indeed.

Life is like that, you know.  You go along happy as a clam, then wham the roof caves in.  That's when you have to call on your faith, if you have it.  Thank goodness, I do. 

Work continues at a snail's pace on the sequel to Scarecrow in Gray.  The Season of the Crow is very slowly taking shape and is, in my opinion, a much better work.  I suppose when publication day comes, hopefully next year, we shall see if the readers and reviewers agree.

I shall try to do better, old blog, and old friends.  Until next time, hold your loved ones close.  You just never know.

Cheers.

New Bakery!

Under the category shameless family promotion, my chef daughter Christi has a new bakery and catering business in Columbia, NC. You can check out her website at www.sliceofheavencolumbia.com. She makes all sorts of tasty concoctions and will cater small to large events.

The site is still a work in progress, but she is open and ready for business. Way to go Chris!

Still Life

The gleam of a small lamp
illuminates the quiet room.
The darkness beyond the walls
forms another wall, then another

The old man sits and stares
at the past with eyes wet
from weeping.

The scenes that roll through his mind
some sad, some happy, are all that
remain of the life gone by
like a vapor.

And all around the world moves on
with dancing, and laughing,
and war, and buying and selling,
and loving and hating,
and all that is important
for a moment,
for a brief and vanishing moment.

No matter to the old man,
having seen and done
and thought
and remembered.

Daylight fades, again,
as it always has does will
and with it fading recollections
collective electrical disturbances
in his aging brain only
less than dissipated
already gone
only remembered
for a breath
until that too
is gone
quietly.

Missing the High Country

Since my old hiking buddy and good friend, Bud Wilson, passed away, I have not had even the hope of taking a weekend hike in the Western NC mountains. I miss those craggy peaks, those windswept hills where life is put in its proper place. There is no room for ego there, nor worry, or anxiety. There is only putting one foot in front of another, looking for the next water source, and finding a good place to make camp.

Then, settling down around the fire, eating a basic meal from a can, every muscle, nerve, and sinew relaxes. You rest to the sound of the crackling fire and gaze at the starry canvas. It gets cool at night in the mountains, and you slide on your jacket, watching the fire worry itself down.

Then to settle into your sleeping bag, where it's warm and quiet. You may hear the wind ripple your tent fly as it sweeps over the mountain. Quiet and warm and relaxed in nature's bower. Sleep comes easy, and your dreams fly away miles toward the sky.

I surely miss it and hope someday I can find another old geezer, slow poke hiker to wander the ragged hills of Caroline.