"And do not forget that we are drifting."
Jefferson Davis (J. D.) Tant was born in 1861 in Marietta, Georgia. His father and three uncles were all were CSA soldiers and fought for the Army of Northern Virginia. The family lost their farm during Reconstruction and moved to Texas to make a new start. J. D. felt the call to ministry as a young man. He served for awhile in the Methodist church and then became a circuit preacher for the churches of Christ. His effective ministry brought him much attention. Though he was unrefined and plain spoken, (he was actually banned from publishing articles for almost ten years because he used the word "bull" in a sermon) he was sought after to preach and lead meetings all over the southeast and into Arizona and New Mexico.

He was a contemporary of, and well known by, the men who founded David Lipscomb College. He spent a good deal of time in middle and west Tennessee and preached for several long seasons in Bellevue. I am working on some family history but I’m not sure yet if we are directly related to J. D. We do know that my grandfather’s family had deep roots in the churches of Christ and some of them came from West Tennessee. In fact, I have an uncle who is also J. D. Tant, though the initials stand for Joe Donnie and not the illustrious president of the Confederacy.

The quote used as title for this post was one that J. D. used to close many of the articles he wrote for the Gospel Advocate magazine. It also showed up in some of his sermons. He was very much a traditionalist in the churches of Christ and his theological arguments and debates over a wide variety of issues were numerous. It seems that his use of this quote was to remind people that, in the Christian life, coasting is rarely an option. For most of us there is a current in the world that will quickly move us to a new location if we are not striving against it. He and I would surely be in disagreement as he applied this to the need to live outwardly a holy life in order to be saved. Where I think J. D.’s warning does ring true, however, is in our daily understanding of the gospel. I find that if I don’t "preach the gospel" to myself afresh every day, I begin to loose contact with its reality. I begin to believe that God will not really forgive my sin this time — this hundredth time or this millionth time. His patience has to finally wear thin with me and He will give up. That’s the message my spirit receives when I don’t remind myself of the incredible truth that, because of what Jesus has done, I am loved unconditionally. Otherwise, I am drifting . . . . .

Escape from the Moment
Everywhere we look in our culture we see how much we have adapted to living in the moment. Every Christmas advertisement I have received for electronics is making the pitch for cell phones with email and text messaging capability. I have had several friends who expressed amazement that I don’t use (or even know how to use) IM. In business the "just in time" approach has become the standard for inventory control and long range planning has been compressed to mean planning for the next calendar quarter. More and more families, even families with above average incomes, are living paycheck to paycheck. Savings in America is maybe at an all time low. In short, we are a culture that lives for the moment and gives little concern for the future.


Today in Sunday School we looked at the life of Abraham. God promised to bless his descendants for a thousand generations. He believed this promise and looked to a future he would never live to see. Also in class today I mentioned a book I purchased this week. It is an outline of the Book of Church Order prepared by a PCA elder in North Carolina. The reason I mentioned it was that he dedicated to book to one of his ancestors who was a pastor and one of the founders of Concord, MA in the 1500's. The reason for the dedication was that there is some documentation (either journal or sermons) that this future-conscience pastor was faithful to pray that his descendants would respond to the Gospel and accept Christ.


Yesterday, I visited the cemetery in Clarksville where my mother’s family is buried. While I was there it struck me how unlike our generation was my great, great grandfather, Patrick Joseph Savage. He immigrated with his family from Ireland in the mid-1800's. They settled, along with a number of other Irish families, in Montgomery County. I don’t know much about him but I do know he had a view to the future. Not too long after Greenwood Cemetery opened in 1872, he bought a relatively large number of burial plots all in the same area. I have no way to know what was on his mind at the time but there are now representatives of three generations buried there and still room for more. Whether it’s a good idea to purchase burial like my ancestor I don’t know. What I do know as a believer is that I should be so future oriented I regularly pray that my family for all generations to come (until Christ returns) will remain faithful to the covenant.

Special Days

The Andy Blog: On this rainy, foggy winter day we mark the 11th anniversary of Andy’s death. The weather is a vivid picture of my heart today: chilly and heavy. I have been feeling the gravity of this day all week and I guess I wasn’t expecting it, at least not to this degree. People ask if the pain ever gets better. I know that it does for most of the year but on those special days — birthday, Christmas (which Andy loved so much) and today — it seems I get sucked back in time to that most horrible of all days. I can walk through that Sunday moment by moment remembering with great clarity almost every thought, every encounter and still feel the same emotions with the same intensity as I did that day. Dianne has a plaque hanging in the kitchen which says "We don’t remember days, we remember moments." I my particular case this is true but I am remembering almost enough of these moments to make a day.

Of all the pictures we have of Andy (and I have looked at a lot today) this one probably says as much as any about his love for life. Andy had been decorating Christmas cookies to take to kids at church and school. If the cookies look so good with icing, why not decorate himself? And of course he did. And he loved every minute of it. This was probably the week before he began celebrating eternity with his heavenly Father. Andy, we laugh with you and we still miss you very much!

Fishing in the Low Country
I’m not sure there is such a thing as a bad fishing trip but I just returned from a great fishing trip to Edisto Island, South Carolina. Edisto Island is located about an hour southwest of Charleston and is part of what is known as the "low country." The trip was suggested by my son Mickey several months ago as a time for the three MET’s to spend some time together. So last Thursday afternoon Mickey, Michael, and I drove 600 miles to the home of John and Mandy Snow. The Snow’s have a wonderful house on the island adjacent to a saltwater creek. I have never felt more welcome anywhere I have stayed. John and Mandy love having company and have an extraordinary gift for hospitality.

I had never done any saltwater fishing so everything was new to me. First on the agenda each day was catching your bait. John has minnow traps which stay in the water almost all of the time. We also went out each morning and used a cast net to catch shrimp. John is very proficient and could fill an minnow bucket in less than an hour. Mickey had learned to use the cast net during their summer vacation and he added to the shrimp count. I realized quickly that I would certainly embarrass myself and probably fall out of the boat trying to throw the net. After the bait was on board, we went up the creek to some of John’s favorite spots. It was windy on Friday but we were sheltered fairly well on the creek. Just after low tide, we began to catch some fish. We caught about eight speckled trout which were keeping size along with one redfish. For my other grandson Sean, I caught a stingray (nasty creatures!). Saturday morning a front moved through and the fishing was not as good but it was still great day. Saturday night we feasted on fish, crab, and shrimp.

Some thoughts about the trip — Yes, it was a long way to travel for two days of fishing but it was worth the effort and then some. Our time in the car allowed some good catching up with each other and the two adults learned much from the 9 year old philosopher. What about unwinding in such a short period of time? I have had week long vacations that did not relieve the pressures of life like this trip. I attribute part of this to the nature of fishing but a good portion of this result came from the low country attitude we experienced. Everything about life was down a notch or two from the rest of the world. The relaxed attitude was so pervasive that it affected everything. I’ve been back to the normal busy schedule for three days but I still feel relaxed. Not only did I come back refreshed and renewed, I came back encouraged. I knew before the trip that I would enjoy getting re-acquainted with the Snow’s and I was not disappointed. The encouragement came from experiencing the blessings of a committed and loving Christian family and observing how they live out their faith moment by moment. So to John, Mandy, Preston, J. R., Cooper, Carlton, and Mollye, (and of course that wonderful dog, Chester) thank you for reviving an old soul.

The War about Illegal Aliens
America has this interesting habit of declaring war on social issues (I can’t remember a single one that declared war on us first). In the 1960's we declared War on Poverty. This was part of President Johnson’s Great Society initiative. There were many well intentioned folks that took a look at the richness of America (dare we say blessedness!) and decided that we could make a meaningful difference in the lives of many that lived below the poverty level. We did make a difference — we made them feel like second class citizens. In the process of waging this war on poverty, we took substantial funds from the more affluent citizens and funded programs that demeaned the recipients of assistance and undermined many non-governmental charity programs. Result: we still have poverty in America and many programs that assisted the poor with compassion and Christian charity were forced out of business.

In the 1970's we began the War on Drugs. A quick survey of modern America will confirm that we did not win this war. What did happen was that, in support of this worthy effort, we surrendered many of our rights. The Constitution promises that we will be secure in our homes and our possessions. The "no-knock" provisions gives the police the right to kick in your door if they think you may flush drugs down the toilet. RICO allows the government to take your property and keep it until you can prove that you are not a drug dealer. Granted, these are simplistic descriptions but they are accurate with respect to the rights we have surrendered in support of this war.

We all are familiar with the War on Terror. While I am a big supporter of President Bush, I think history may judge his administration as the one that presided over the greatest deterioration of constitutional rights since the adoption of the constitution. I believe the Patriot Act would be considered grounds for a new revolution to many of our founding fathers. Yet, we embraced its provisions in order to feel more "safe" in our homes. Shame on us.

We are now engaged in a War about Illegal Aliens (not a war on illegal aliens). For at least 20 years the Federal Government has failed to enforce the existing laws on immigration. As a result we have 20+ million illegal aliens living in the county, most from Mexico. These people have been a blessing to business and a curse to the average citizen who sees his tax money being spent to support services for people who should not be in the country. Some conservative politicians have seen this as an issue to champion to improve their standing with the electorate. One of the worst consequences of this is the "Anti-Sanctuary" legislation presently pending before Congress. This legislation would penalize any city or state that does not modify the operation of the law enforcement agencies to make cooperation with the immigration service a top priority. Under this legislation Federal funds can be withheld from cities if they continue to instruct the local police to enforce local laws and protect the citizens. The Mayor of Detroit was quoted in USA Today (10/26/07) as follows: "I want Detroit police officers out there catching people who are stealing cars and mugging old ladies, not asking people for their passports." Cities who take this approach have been branded "sanctuary cites" by certain members of congress and conservative talk show hosts. In my opinion, this is just one more case where we are being asked to allow the Federal government to intrude in local affairs, contrary to the intent of the Founding Fathers, and surrender more of our rights. We don’t have many left — when will we take our stand?

Jonathan Who?

It been a while since I posted. My excuse: I have been both busy and lazy. I was shook out of my inattention during a trip to Borders last Friday night. I was in the literature section immediately adjacent to the religion section. There was a high school girl and her mother standing at the divider between the two sections. The mother asked "Now who is this man we’re looking for?" The girl responds, "Jonathan Edwards." The mother is unfamiliar with the name and asks, "Who is he and what’s so special about him?" The girl responds, "In the colonial days he was a preacher who used guilt manipulation and terror to try to force people to convert to Christianity. He would tell stories that were like horror movies about what will happen to you if you didn’t join his church." She said a good bit more along the same lines but those words are lost in the fog of my memory.

I was a bit shocked and, although I was tempted to step around the divider and engage them in conversation, I remained frozen in place trying to figure out where this young girl got those ideas. It was clear from listening how quick and sure her answer was that she had heard this from someone. A few days later I shared this incident with a friend. He explained that many schools today have so "dumbed-down" the study of literature that almost all they read are excerpts. He further explained that there are curriculum in use in some public schools that contain a portion of Edward’s sermon Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God (the most graphic portions). The curriculum gives little context for the sermon as a whole or the portions read. It is very likely that a teacher who is no friend to Christianity could color his introduction to convey to the class what the girl repeated.

What a tragedy that so many young people can come away from high school with such a false opinion of one of our Nation’s greatest minds. But maybe the bigger tragedy is the way literature is being taught. It seems the curriculum writers have taken as gospel the notion that all teenagers have short attention spans and cannot listen (or read) for periods longer than a few minutes at a time. Computer games, music videos, text messages all train the recipient to "get it and go." A couple of movies I have watched (Example: Bourne Ultimatum ) change scenes so rapidly that it gives me a headache. This is what the kids get on video games. I’m sure somewhere the argument is used that if we try to teach literature the "old" way we will lose the kids and they won’t read at all. I just can’t believe that a good story has lost all its magic.

Whistling Jack Smith - I Was Kaiser Bill's Batman

Great music triva. This song made it to the Billboard Top 20 in 1967

Prayer for Our Birthday
On an earlier 4th of July, George Washington offered the following prayer: "Almighty God, we make our earnest prayer that you will keep the United States in your holy protection; that you will incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government, and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow-citizens. And finally, that you will most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, peaceful mindset which are the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion and without which we can never be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech you, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Here’s my prayer for today: O Heavenly Father, what a wonderful legacy you gave this country in founding fathers who were men who proclaimed Christ as their Savior and were not ashamed to quote Your Word publicly.

Father we praise Your Name, a chorus of Your redeemed living in this wonderful country. We thank You that You have planted us in a very fruitful land and You have caused this land produce its bounty for us. No nation, with the exception of ancient Israel, has been more blessed than we. Yet, in many ways we have, as a nation, forgotten our first love. We have turned from serving and honoring You and have built idols of greed, self-gratification, personal peace, ambition, and sexual perversion. We have replaced justice with expediency, mercy with political correctness, compassion with a demeaning welfare system, and humility with the arrogance of success. We have scorned Your precious gift of life and have become a nation that murders our unborn, produces children that kill each other and themselves, and have stepped on that slippery slope where we decide which of our old and sick have lives worthy of living.

Gracious God, You would be fully justified if You withdrew Your blessings. Yet, You have not withdrawn Your hand and in that we find great hope. Therefore Father, we do pray for this nation. We pray for our President, our Vice President, and the governors of states. Be gracious to them in their persons and remind them that Your are the Ruler of the kings of the earth and that You hold their hearts in Your hand. Compel them, we pray, to live godly lives before the people and let them rule wisely and in accordance with Your will.

We pray for all of the legislators that they will use wisdom, reason, and compassion as they make laws.

We pray of all the judges that interpret the law, may they do so with fairness, honesty and impartially.

We pray for all those who work for the various agencies of government, that they will serve the people well and not let government become more of a burden.

We pray for all those who serve in the military, that they will be ever ready to defend this country but even more ready to preserve the peace.

We pray for the commerce of this nation, that You will continue to bless us with opportunities to work and support our families. Lord, give us hearts willing to share our abundance with those in need.

Gracious Father, we pray for the families of this nation. It was on the strength of families that this county was founded and now our families are under attack. We pray for husbands and wives that they will be committed to each other and to You. We pray that fathers and mothers will understand Your plan for families and be willing to reclaim childhood for their children. Bless our families with laws that are friendly to Your standard for the family and protect them from the Evil One who would undermine this very foundation of our land.

O Lord of the Harvest, we pray that you will fill our pulpits with men of godly character and calling; make them burning and shining lights, faithful to Christ and to the souls in their care. May they faithfully preach the power of the Gospel to broken and wounded people in desperate need of Your love and forgiveness. We pray for a work of the Spirit in bringing revival and reformation to our nation. Let our churches once more be full of Your people and may they once again raise the standard for Biblical character and integrity in this land. And Father, if we can be so bold, we pray that revival will begin with our hearts this day.

In the powerful name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.

A Week of Passings
During the period of a little over a week, four old friends died. The evening of June 1 our friend, Jim Newpart went home to be with the Lord. We met Jim and Mynra at a home Bible study when we first moved to Franklin in 1977. We were not particularly interested in being part of a Bible study but it was a good way to meet some new friends. That Bible study meet every other Thursday night for several years and we are still friends with most of the original members.
Jim and Myrna had moved with his job (IBM) to a number of cities. When the company wanted him to leave middle Tennessee, they decided to change careers rather than leave. Jim loved to build and over the years they built several new homes, all of which I loved. He not only had good instincts for what would make a house appealing, he had the energy to complete what he started in grand fashion. Jim was one of the neatest people I have ever met. His clothes and hair were always perfect. Myrna used to tell people that he did not even turn over in his sleep lest he wrinkle his pajamas.

I was closest to Jim during those years when we both were active in the same church. Jim was a faithful and effective servant. He had a heart for people and I learned from Jim how to balance keeping my eye on the objective while remaining attentive to the opinions and desires of others. When Cortez Cooper was preparing to start Christ Presbyterian Church, Jim was one of the "Brentwood Seven" that served as the original feasibility committee for the church. Jim and I both liked Vandy basketball, Titans football, and golf. All of these, as well as his warm love for people were stolen these past few years by his illness. Jim, we miss you.

On June 2, my second longest friendship ended. Father Edward Arnold completed his many years of service to Christ and went home. I’ll come back to him in a moment. On June 3 a classmate from Father Ryan, Tommy St. Charles, died. I have not seen him in years but I do remember a number of the funny stunts he pulled in high school. I also remember talking to him a few times at the business he owned. I have a general discomfort with the idea that one of my peers has fulfilled his days on this earth. If God gives me the days, I will experience more of these but I don’t think repetition will make the process any easier.

On June 10 Peggy Southard died after a long fight with cancer. Stu and Peggy served with us as the first leadership group for parents at Christ Presbyterian Academy. We enjoyed getting to know them. Later we were involved in a Bible study with them and I hooked up with Stu through some Christian Leadership Concepts contacts. In recent years they have been part of Strong Tower Church but their impact on Christ Community is still being felt. It was very sad in worship when the announcement was made.

Now back to Fr. Arnold. I first encountered him at St. Joseph’s Church in 1957. He had just been ordained to the priesthood and was appointed assistant pastor. I was in the 4th grade at the time. Several years later, while still at St. Joseph, I had developed a comfortable relationship with him serving as an altar boy and helping with various chores around the school and church. When the new sanctuary and living quarters for the pastors was complete, I was part of a group of students that helped the priests move. There was a box of books Fr. Arnold had that we were not supposed to look at. He told us that they were books on the "banned book list" of the Catholic Church. So what did we do? We looked of course, thinking these were a genre of books that would particularly appeal to 8th grade boys. They weren’t. They proved to be all theology — Martin Luther, John Calvin, etc. Boy, were we ever disappointed.

A few years later I was a student at Father Ryan and had Fr. Arnold one year for Religion and one year for Latin. It was in his class that I learned the saying "I don’t give hard tests. You make take hard tests, but I don’t give them." I use this every year with my students. Fr. Arnold was a very demanding teacher and could make life interesting if you dozed off during class or were misbehaving. He kept a supply of small pieces of chalk in his desk. He could hurl these with the accuracy and velocity of a major league pitcher. You did not want to be on the receiving end of one of these missiles! During my senior year I took my second year of mechanical drawing. Due to my schedule, I took this class by myself as I could not meet during the normal class time. One day Fr. Arnold walked into the room and asked if I would help him with a problem. He was the Chaplin of St. Mary’s Villa at the time. They were building a new chapel on the front side of the campus and he did not like the design of the window behind the altar (which was actually on the front of the building). He wanted me to design a new window. I'm not exactly sure why he did this (although at his funeral mention was made several times of his legendary frugality). I did what he requested and to this day, when I drive by St. Mary’s I take a quick look at the bay window I designed.

Fr. Arnold was pastor of our Lady of the Lake in Hendersonville where we moved after my graduation from college. He gave instructions to Dianne and baptized our first three children. Just a few years after our move to Franklin, he became the pastor of St. Philip’s, where he remained until his death. Since we were not attending St. Philip’s, we only saw him on occasion. When my mom died, her pastor was out of town and Fr. Arnold substituted and handled the funeral. He did the same 2½ years later when my dad died. For him it was not just something he had too do. He was very pastoral and I felt like he was part of the family. In fact, several months before dad died, he had one of those "mini strokes" and was rushed to the hospital. The nursing home had notified Fr. Arnold because he was the catholic pastor the home had on their call list. He met me at the hospital. I needed to talk to someone about heroic measures for my dad. I thought I had everything worked out in my mind but I found I was not nearly as comfortable when the situation was no longer hypothetical. Fr. Arnold sat with me and helped me work through the issue. I ended up where I thought I would but now I was comfortable because an authority I respected affirmed my decision.

For several weeks after our son, Andy, died we had a routine of sitting together and going through the mountain of cards that seemed to arrive each day. One day I found a card in the mail without any stamp or postmark. It turned out to be from Fr. Arnold. He had driven to the house but was overwhelmed by our very steep driveway (by that time he was having severe problems with his hip and walking on level ground was difficult). He had written a wonderful and comforting message on the card and left it in our mail box. A few weeks later he said a mass for Andy and invited us to have breakfast with him afterwards. It was very good time. We hit some of the high spots of those periods when our lives touched.

I attended the funeral mass for Fr. Arnold in a sanctuary that was almost completely full (1,000+). I can say that I was profoundly moved by the service as it broke through my personal thoughts and helped me focus on the heavenly realm. I did not want to leave when the service was over. By human standards, I would not be considered a close friend of Fr. Arnold — but my life was profoundly intertwined with his. I was very sad and I had the feeling that if I did not leave the building, somehow the connection would remain. I am still sad!

Legacy
Not too long ago I was going through a box that contained old documents we hurriedly packed away as we were cleaning out my parents house after it was sold. I thought we had gone through everything at the time. We found the original bill from St. Thomas Hospital for when I was born ($158 — I guess I was worth the expense) and the bill of sale for a 1938 Chevy ($750). My mom and dad were keepers of records — forever. As I was recently looking through the box I found something that I had never seen before. On a piece of cardstock about 3½ inches by 5½ inches was a poem written by my mother in 1928. This would have been when she was a high school student at St Cecilia. The poem is recorded in beautiful printing with the first letter of each line illuminated.

Thanksgiving

Thanks be to God
Here on earth
All join in praising
Not without mirth;
Keep the heart loving
See the bright side;
Give without stinting
In places denied;
Venerate the Giver
In sunshine and sorrow;
Nights may be dark, but
God gives a tomorrow.

— M. L. Hussey
1928

I think the poem is original. I have checked several websites of Thanksgiving poems and have not found anything close. But whether or not it is original it says something very special to me about my mother as a teenager — she knew the God that I know. My childhood was filled with my mother, and my grandmother who lived with us, telling stories about God’s faithfulness. Though I had my period of rebellion as a yong adult, I realize now that in my "wild ways" I never strayed far from this God my mother wrote about. She has been gone from this world for almost 20 years and for her last five or so she was hard to know and love because of the cruel Alzheimer’s which stole her identity away. Yet there is nothing I want more this moment than to put my arms around her and tell her I love her. Thanks Mom for faithfully teaching me about this God who loves us and is such a vital part of our lives!

Sticks and stones may . . . . .
Last week I was called a liberal! I have lived a good number of years thinking such a travesty would never occur. It happened during lunch with two business associates. We were having a pleasant time and the conversation worked its way around to politics. One of my lunch companions launched an attack against "those environmental nutcases" that would have done Ann Coulter proud. I did not comment verbally but did raise my eyebrows at one of his outbursts. He was sitting across the table and noticed my expression. He gave me a hard look, but did not comment.

A little later we were talking about the 2008 elections and the various potential candidates. I have some opinions but could not seem to get an opening to share them. These guys were really serious — serious like the election is next month rather than next year. Since I could not talk, I listened intently and found myself thinking I was watching a program on Fox News. I guess I smiled at the thought and one of my friends thought I was offering some "know-it-all grin." Thinking I was in disagreement with the orthodox positions being expressed, he turned and said, "Well, it looks like we have a liberal at the table with us." I was a little stunned at first. Several years ago I would have angrily launched a defense of my conservative credentials. But I just grinned all the more and enjoyed my salad.

I realize the comment about me being a liberal was made primarily to provoke me into discussion and give me an opportunity to prove my fundamentalist Republican pedigree. I was not angry but I could not identify my feelings at the moment. What did trouble me as I reflected later on the exchange is how typical our lunch table discussion has become. I can’t remember a time in the past year when I was involved in a serious conversation in which the individuals disagreed but were willing to calmly debate the issue. I used to have these all the time. What has happened? I’m not exactly sure but I think it has much to do with the proliferation of talk radio/television which has almost destroyed the concept of "friendly disagreement." Even our everyday conversations are peppered with "sound bites" and "labeling." During the lunch conversation mentioned previously, I, and anything I had to say, was effectively neutralized by the label: liberal.

I am beginning to wonder if we are serious when we say things like "I would like to hear the candidates engage in debate on the issues." I’m not sure we would recognize it if it happened.

Infinitely Alone

Several years ago the elders of our (then) church joined with the pastor during Lent preaching on the words of Christ on the cross. I was assigned the passage "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me" (Matt 27:46). I have seen the movie The Passion of the Christ and left the theater physically exhausted. As I prepared for this sermon, I had much the same experience meditating on the most dreadful part of our Lord's suffering: the separation from the Father. This was the inspiration for the title. Jesus, on the cross, went to a place that Psa 139 tells us does not exist - a place where God is not present. Though thoroughly Irish, the muses have not blessed me with the gift of poetic speech. I tried to come up with words to describe this dereliction that caused Jesus to cry out those terrible words. I finally went to my comfort zone:engineering/science. Following is the best I could muster.

The Weight of Sin
Have you considered recently what sin is? Man is God’s prized creation — made in His image. And yet, one sin — one act of rebellion against God was sufficient to cast this prized creation into a state of eternal damnation. We understand that one single sin is enough to sentence us to hell for eternity. But none of us have committed just one sin. Our sins are countless and each one is worthy of eternal damnation. Are we not most foolish when we imagine trying to satisfy or suffer the punishment for all our sins?

Most of you have heard about what scientists call ‘black holes.’ If their theories are correct, a black hole is a star that has collapsed in on itself and it mass has become so concentrated that the gravitational field will not let light escape. The mass is so concentrated that an object made from this material the size of a child’s marble would weigh 800 million tons. If I could hold that marble in my hand and then let it fall, it would not only pass through the floor but it would quickly pass through the dirt and bedrock as it moves rapidly to the center of the earth. Its gravitational pull would be so great that the Mississippi River and the Smokey Mountains would feel the pull and move towards this place we now gather.

If you could some how weigh my sin on a spiritual scale it would be similar to that marble — and so would yours. Jesus has "bore our sins in His body on the cross, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed." 1 Peter 2:24. It is like He has taken these marbles, our sins, strung them together in a necklace, and hung them around his neck. The incredible weight is pulling Him down with such force that it is pulling Him out of the hands of the Father who He loves with an infinite love.

Isaiah 53:5-6
But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities;
The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, And by His scourging we are healed.
6 All of us like sheep have gone astray, Each of us has turned to his own way;
But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all To fall on Him.


The physical suffering of Jesus was horrendous and none of us want to dwell on it for any extended time. But the spiritual suffering of having the Father remove His gaze of blessing was much more painful - more than we can ever imagine. It is this suffering that caused Jesus to sweat blood in the garden - and it is this suffering that purchased our redemption.

Truly this is a Good Friday!

I don't like these things - blogs that is. I have successfully avoided them for years and now I find myself creating my own. I'm thinking slippery slope and "how the mighty have fallen" thoughts. My resistance to blogging is reflected in the name I chose for the blog. That name accurately and fairly describes my attitude. But (rising up on my spiritual pedestal) I am willing to sacrifice for the good of the school. So I take the plunge this 3rd day of April in the year of our Lord 2007.