"Ours is a generation when dogs howl, and the skin crawls on the scull with its beast's foreboding"
So begins the legendary broadcast The Fall of the City, first broadcast April 11, 1937. The prewar dramatic radio programs frequently considered the nature of the freedoms in the United States, the importance of defending them, and the complaisance of some citizens, who saw no need for doing so.
In honor of the approaching anniversary of our nation's Declaration of Independence, these downloadable programs, dating from the days of Old Time Radio, might make a fine way to commemorate the event. These shows also serve as a reminder of the nature of Liberty — and of its fragility.
(Incidentally, Hillsdale College is behind an initiative to urge United Statesers to read the Declaration of Independence aloud this year. If you doubt your declamatory abilities, maybe you'd prefer to have President John F. Kennedy do it:
http://archive.org/details/TheDeclarationOfIndependence )
The source for all of these broadcasts is the http://archive.org site. The source for These Columbia Workshop programs is http://archive.org/details/Columbia.Workshop_174
It includes a number of other downloadable MP3 files for other intriguing programs. Highlights include:
The Fall of the City, by Archibald Macleish (On the willingness with which a free people can give of their liberty): http://archive.org/download/Columbia.Workshop_174/Columbia_Workshop_37-04-11_The_Fall_of_the_City.mp3
The Pussycat and the Master Plumber who Was a Man (On the importance o9f voting for a candidate, not a name – and what separates a cat from a man!):
http://archive.org/download/Columbia.Workshop_174/Columbia_Workshop_40-09-29_The_Pussy_Cat_and_the_Expert_Plumber_Who_Was_a_Man.mp3
The Constitution: A cast simply reads the U.S> Constitution and the bill of rights:
http://archive.org/03_The_Constitution.mp3
A fine accompaniment would be Norman Corwin's memorable production "We Hold These Truths," written to commemorate the sesquicentennial of the Bill f Rights: http://archive.org/download/OrsonWellesWartimeBroadcasts/411215WeHoldTheseTruths.mp3
You are There (main page: http://archive.org/details/You_Are_There_OTR )
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, July 4, 1776
http://archive.org/download/You_Are_There_OTR/You_Are_There_480704_ep37_Declaration_of_Independance.mp3
Programs in Defense of Liberty, by Norman Corwin
Fragment of a Lost Cause (In which Demosthenes futilely reminds the Athenians of the importance of defending their liberty)
http://archive.org/download/Columbia.Workshop_174/Columbia_Workshop_41-09-14_Fragment_from_a_Lost_Cause.mp3
Between Americans (On what there is about America that makes it worth defendint) http://archive.org/download/OrsonWellesWartimeBroadcasts/411207GulfScreenGuildTheater-BetweenAmericans.mp3
On a Note of Triumph (On the results of WWII)
http://archive.org/download/Columbia.Workshop_174/Columbia_Workshop_45-05-13_Note_Of_Triumph.mp3
You might also enjoy the MP3s of some of Winston Churchill's speeches
http://archive.org/details/Winston_Churchill
(Never Give In! Never! Never! Never! http://archive.org/download/Winston_Churchill/1941-11-29_BBC_Winston_Churchill_Address_To_Harrow_School.mp3 )
Mister President Episodes
http://archive.org/details/Mister_President
The Cavalcade of America (A little corny, but moving and inspiring! A fine reminder of where we came from, and how we got there.)
http://archive.org/details/OTRR_Cavalcade_of_America_Singles
As The Fall of the City concludes, "The people invent their oppressors: they wish to believe in them. They wish to be free of their freedom: released from their liberty –" But our city still stands!
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
How I Came to Be a Church Lady
I am the last of the Little Old Ladies at my church, and have been for at least the past fifteen years. To look at me, you might not think so – I'm only beginning to wear purple and flaunt a Red Hat – but it's true. I am the last of the Little Old Ladies. And it's partly because of being with the Little Old Ladies that I was finally able to achieve the status of Church Lady.
I grew up in churches. Some of my earliest memories are of Sunday School classes, I came to like liturgy, and stained glass, and hymns with reasoned verse and discernable melody, Later, when my family changed churches, I went through long-form confirmation, and, unlike many of my classmates, did not disappear from the pews upon its completion. I went to college locally, and drove in for Sunday School and the worship service. Later, I moved back to town, and remained a common sight around the place on Sundays. . .and Tuesdays (board meeting night). . .and Thursdays (women's group meetings). . .and Fridays (newsletter printing). These acts of devotion, however, did not qualify me as a "little old lady" or a Church Lady.
No, while I was still in my twenties, I became a Little Old Lady, because I used to sit with the group of women the rest of the congregation referred to as "The Little Old Ladies."
Now, among established church attendees, a strange ritual develops. When they find a spot in the sanctuary where they like to sit, they will always sit there. Eventually, that spot becomes associated with them. As I was growing up, my family sat on the left side, slightly more than halfway up. In the pew ahead of us, a group of elderly widows had lighted. They were gracious, pleasant ladies, who were delighted with the way my father would tease them. Eventually, my parents moved away. (It isn't likely to surprise anyone that I am such a homebody that my parents left home before I did.) I was left alone in the pew. Before long, the little old ladies noticed I was by myself, thought I looked lonesome, and invited me to join them. I did, and, in time, their Sunday station became mine as well. I had become one of the "Little Old Ladies."
As the elderly do, however, those ladies started to disappear. One moved closer to her children, another went to a nursing home, others died. One Sunday, I was sitting in my regular spot in the Little Old Ladies pew, looked around, and realized there wasn't anyone else there! All the genuinely old ladies were gone! And so I became The Last of the Little Old Ladies!
But even that didn't make me a Church Lady. That requires a special level of acceptance by the recognized church ladies: an acknowledgment of equality. My mother had been a church lady, so, after she moved, I was still granted some of her reflected honor; but I was not one in my own right. Making casseroles for the potluck, salads for the salad luncheons, attending women's circle, and teaching Sunday School don't guarantee church-lady-dom, either. But, through the casseroles, salads, Sunday School, board service, and being a "Little Old Lady," I did finally achieve it.
It was at a baby shower that the women's circle was holding for several young women. I was sitting at the same table as several of the Church Ladies: matrons of my mother's generation, some of whom had probably been with the church since before the new building (the "new" building, incidentally, is as old as I am!). They were women who had the respect of the congregation. That day, however, they were not in the best of moods. The gifts the young mothers were receiving were particularly excellent: expensive gadgets and conveniences that looked to these experienced campaigners in the conflicts of child-rearing to be, well, extravagant. They told of having to use cotton diapers, not convenient disposable ones. One described how her child had to sleep in drawer for two years because they couldn't afford a crib, The conversation went on like this for a while. Finally, I said, "Well, things are different than when we were that age." They agreed, and the conversation turned to other topics. Not one of them remembered that I had been a classmate of their own children, and was only slightly older than the mothers being honored. Those church ladies evidently thought of me as one of themselves! I had truly become a Church Lady!
I grew up in churches. Some of my earliest memories are of Sunday School classes, I came to like liturgy, and stained glass, and hymns with reasoned verse and discernable melody, Later, when my family changed churches, I went through long-form confirmation, and, unlike many of my classmates, did not disappear from the pews upon its completion. I went to college locally, and drove in for Sunday School and the worship service. Later, I moved back to town, and remained a common sight around the place on Sundays. . .and Tuesdays (board meeting night). . .and Thursdays (women's group meetings). . .and Fridays (newsletter printing). These acts of devotion, however, did not qualify me as a "little old lady" or a Church Lady.
No, while I was still in my twenties, I became a Little Old Lady, because I used to sit with the group of women the rest of the congregation referred to as "The Little Old Ladies."
Now, among established church attendees, a strange ritual develops. When they find a spot in the sanctuary where they like to sit, they will always sit there. Eventually, that spot becomes associated with them. As I was growing up, my family sat on the left side, slightly more than halfway up. In the pew ahead of us, a group of elderly widows had lighted. They were gracious, pleasant ladies, who were delighted with the way my father would tease them. Eventually, my parents moved away. (It isn't likely to surprise anyone that I am such a homebody that my parents left home before I did.) I was left alone in the pew. Before long, the little old ladies noticed I was by myself, thought I looked lonesome, and invited me to join them. I did, and, in time, their Sunday station became mine as well. I had become one of the "Little Old Ladies."
As the elderly do, however, those ladies started to disappear. One moved closer to her children, another went to a nursing home, others died. One Sunday, I was sitting in my regular spot in the Little Old Ladies pew, looked around, and realized there wasn't anyone else there! All the genuinely old ladies were gone! And so I became The Last of the Little Old Ladies!
But even that didn't make me a Church Lady. That requires a special level of acceptance by the recognized church ladies: an acknowledgment of equality. My mother had been a church lady, so, after she moved, I was still granted some of her reflected honor; but I was not one in my own right. Making casseroles for the potluck, salads for the salad luncheons, attending women's circle, and teaching Sunday School don't guarantee church-lady-dom, either. But, through the casseroles, salads, Sunday School, board service, and being a "Little Old Lady," I did finally achieve it.
It was at a baby shower that the women's circle was holding for several young women. I was sitting at the same table as several of the Church Ladies: matrons of my mother's generation, some of whom had probably been with the church since before the new building (the "new" building, incidentally, is as old as I am!). They were women who had the respect of the congregation. That day, however, they were not in the best of moods. The gifts the young mothers were receiving were particularly excellent: expensive gadgets and conveniences that looked to these experienced campaigners in the conflicts of child-rearing to be, well, extravagant. They told of having to use cotton diapers, not convenient disposable ones. One described how her child had to sleep in drawer for two years because they couldn't afford a crib, The conversation went on like this for a while. Finally, I said, "Well, things are different than when we were that age." They agreed, and the conversation turned to other topics. Not one of them remembered that I had been a classmate of their own children, and was only slightly older than the mothers being honored. Those church ladies evidently thought of me as one of themselves! I had truly become a Church Lady!
Sunday, April 29, 2012
A Hymn for May 4 (And May the Fourth Be With You!)
I heard recently (recently, as of this writing, at least) that there was an effort under way to organize a worship service for Star Wars Celebration IV. A fine plan! At such affairs, however, singing generally takes place; and, as far as I know, there are no hymns that include a celebration of Star Wars.
Until such is composed, perhaps this text, which translates some basic doctrinal concepts into terms familiar to Star Wars fans, might help. If you would like to sing it, as part of your Star Wars Day celebration ("May the Fourth Be With You"), the text lays well with the hymn tune "St. Anne," but sounds best with "Ellacombe."
We praise the Maker of All Things --
No Dark Side dims His Light–
That He would give His image wings:
Imagination's flight
His word made matter, worlds that hold
Together by His will.
He gives us our own worlds to mold
Through words that matter still.
All living things make energy,
But, through Him, true Life came;
And power, not slaves, but sons to be,
To all that trust His name.
Unless our actions He controls
Our "Do" is merely "Try."
There is no luck: we reach the goals
His loving plans supply!
We praise Him for the destinies
On different paths He led,
Away from unfulfilling peace,
To happy Wars instead!
Let all hearts thank the Maker, then –
Be they of flesh or steel –
Who, through the dreams of mortal men
Made Worlds in Pictures real!
Suggested tunes:
St. Anne: http://openhymnal.org/Lyrics/Our_God_Our_Help_In_Ages_Past-St_Anne.html
Ellacombe: http://openhymnal.org/Lyrics/Hosanna_Loud_Hosanna-Ellacombe.html
Worlds in Pictures is not only a pretty way to describe the sketches and paintings that directed the designers of Star Wars, but the title of a musical tribute to the art of Ralph McQuarrie, composed by Kevin Kral. It is the best Star Wars-related song ever written. As of this writing, it may be heard here: http://www.myspace.com/kenkrahl/music/songs/worlds-in-pictures-10974185 .For myself, I also thank the Maker for McQuarrie's glorious pictures, and Kral's memorable Worlds!
Until such is composed, perhaps this text, which translates some basic doctrinal concepts into terms familiar to Star Wars fans, might help. If you would like to sing it, as part of your Star Wars Day celebration ("May the Fourth Be With You"), the text lays well with the hymn tune "St. Anne," but sounds best with "Ellacombe."
We praise the Maker of All Things --
No Dark Side dims His Light–
That He would give His image wings:
Imagination's flight
His word made matter, worlds that hold
Together by His will.
He gives us our own worlds to mold
Through words that matter still.
All living things make energy,
But, through Him, true Life came;
And power, not slaves, but sons to be,
To all that trust His name.
Unless our actions He controls
Our "Do" is merely "Try."
There is no luck: we reach the goals
His loving plans supply!
We praise Him for the destinies
On different paths He led,
Away from unfulfilling peace,
To happy Wars instead!
Let all hearts thank the Maker, then –
Be they of flesh or steel –
Who, through the dreams of mortal men
Made Worlds in Pictures real!
Suggested tunes:
St. Anne: http://openhymnal.org/Lyrics/Our_God_Our_Help_In_Ages_Past-St_Anne.html
Ellacombe: http://openhymnal.org/Lyrics/Hosanna_Loud_Hosanna-Ellacombe.html
Worlds in Pictures is not only a pretty way to describe the sketches and paintings that directed the designers of Star Wars, but the title of a musical tribute to the art of Ralph McQuarrie, composed by Kevin Kral. It is the best Star Wars-related song ever written. As of this writing, it may be heard here: http://www.myspace.com/kenkrahl/music/songs/worlds-in-pictures-10974185 .For myself, I also thank the Maker for McQuarrie's glorious pictures, and Kral's memorable Worlds!
Monday, April 9, 2012
Soar We NOW – Not Later – Where Christ Hath Lead
Whether you call it Easter or Resurrection Sunday, it's still the commemoration of that glorious proof that the unjust death of a perfect man was a satisfactory substitute for what should have been the eternal death of defiant, self-pleasing humanity.* But God's Holy One did not see corruption¶, and God's raising Him from the dead is what we celebrate, particularly with music. On that Sunday, we get our annual opportunity to sing all those great Resurrection hymns, including one of Charles Wesley's greatest lyrics, "Chris the Lord is Risen Today**." To whatever tune they are set, they remain a beautiful assurance of the blessings of redemption.
You may know the verse normally sung last:
It sums up the fulfillment of the hope described in the previous verses: that we will follow our Redeemer beyond the grip of death, to Heaven. No one would debate that conclusion. However, I have been made to realize that it means so much more than that.
At the end of 2011, I noticed a Twitter post from someone traveling in India, describing smoke rising from funeral pyres along the Ganges. That grim scene was followed by another post about toy kites local children were playing with. The dancing of the kites in the sky, for a moment at least, released the children who held them from the dust and dung around them. Those soaring kites, for whatever reason, had made me think of soaring where Christ had led. Then it hit me: Wesley had written, "Soar we NOW," not "Soar we soon." I had always associated that verse with following Him to heaven, but the redemption Christ bought is not merely about getting to Heaven> It includes how we live on Earth. We don't have to wait until we get to Heaven to live heaven-like lives. Christ enables us to live like someone from Heaven right now even in the spiritual, moral (yes, and sometimes physical) dung and dust of a bitter world of change and decay. After all, eternal life isn't about mere perpetual existence, but about life as God had intended it to be lived.
And His ways are not the ways we choose on our own. Look at the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7). What a radical approach to life – and what an impossibility to live out! Yet, through Christ's resurrection spirit, now living in those who trust Him, we children of dust are able to do it, because He lives through us. Only through him can we truly set our minds on things above, and not on the vanishing things of this earth.§
Because Christ has risen, we may live among the dust and dung, but we are no longer part of it. Like those children watching the kites, our minds are now set on things above, not merely for a moment, but forever! By faith, we are made like Him, and like Him, we do rise; above our daily crosses, beyond the grave and the smoky funeral pyre, and, always, to the skies.
Hie is Risen! And, therefore, We arr Risen, Indeed! Alleluia!
Notes:
*Romans 4:23-25: Now it was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him; But for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; Who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification.
¶ Psalm 16:10: For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption.
"Christ the Lord is Risen Today" http://hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh302.sht
§ Colossians 3:1-2: If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.
(The posts referred to above require, not merely a HT (Hat Tip), but a star-sweeping flourish of a salute to @ADaniels3PO, who posted them. I don' know where he might stand in relation to my reflection on them, but no one posts thought-provoking observations to Twitter more gracefully than he does.)
You may know the verse normally sung last:
Soar we now where Christ hath led,
Following our Exalted Head. \
Made like Him, like Him we rise!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies!
Following our Exalted Head. \
Made like Him, like Him we rise!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies!
It sums up the fulfillment of the hope described in the previous verses: that we will follow our Redeemer beyond the grip of death, to Heaven. No one would debate that conclusion. However, I have been made to realize that it means so much more than that.
At the end of 2011, I noticed a Twitter post from someone traveling in India, describing smoke rising from funeral pyres along the Ganges. That grim scene was followed by another post about toy kites local children were playing with. The dancing of the kites in the sky, for a moment at least, released the children who held them from the dust and dung around them. Those soaring kites, for whatever reason, had made me think of soaring where Christ had led. Then it hit me: Wesley had written, "Soar we NOW," not "Soar we soon." I had always associated that verse with following Him to heaven, but the redemption Christ bought is not merely about getting to Heaven> It includes how we live on Earth. We don't have to wait until we get to Heaven to live heaven-like lives. Christ enables us to live like someone from Heaven right now even in the spiritual, moral (yes, and sometimes physical) dung and dust of a bitter world of change and decay. After all, eternal life isn't about mere perpetual existence, but about life as God had intended it to be lived.
And His ways are not the ways we choose on our own. Look at the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7). What a radical approach to life – and what an impossibility to live out! Yet, through Christ's resurrection spirit, now living in those who trust Him, we children of dust are able to do it, because He lives through us. Only through him can we truly set our minds on things above, and not on the vanishing things of this earth.§
Because Christ has risen, we may live among the dust and dung, but we are no longer part of it. Like those children watching the kites, our minds are now set on things above, not merely for a moment, but forever! By faith, we are made like Him, and like Him, we do rise; above our daily crosses, beyond the grave and the smoky funeral pyre, and, always, to the skies.
Hie is Risen! And, therefore, We arr Risen, Indeed! Alleluia!
Notes:
*Romans 4:23-25: Now it was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him; But for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; Who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification.
¶ Psalm 16:10: For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption.
"Christ the Lord is Risen Today" http://hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh302.sht
§ Colossians 3:1-2: If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.
(The posts referred to above require, not merely a HT (Hat Tip), but a star-sweeping flourish of a salute to @ADaniels3PO, who posted them. I don' know where he might stand in relation to my reflection on them, but no one posts thought-provoking observations to Twitter more gracefully than he does.)
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Thoughts on Spring and Easter
The Spring reminds a bitter land
Of Eden's long-lost glade:
Of where the Lord walked close at hand
With those whom He had made.
But Adam doubted God's kind care
And chose defiant pride.
By light exposed and truth made bare,
In darkness, friendship died.
Again, Earth saw God's Truth and Light
His Life became the Way,
His death replaced doubt's endless night
With Resurrection's day.
So Spring reminds a joyous land,
Freed from grim snow and ice,
In trust, we'll walk as God first planned:
Christ restored Paradise.
(Well, at least I didn't fall asleep during the sermon!)
Of Eden's long-lost glade:
Of where the Lord walked close at hand
With those whom He had made.
But Adam doubted God's kind care
And chose defiant pride.
By light exposed and truth made bare,
In darkness, friendship died.
Again, Earth saw God's Truth and Light
His Life became the Way,
His death replaced doubt's endless night
With Resurrection's day.
So Spring reminds a joyous land,
Freed from grim snow and ice,
In trust, we'll walk as God first planned:
Christ restored Paradise.
(Well, at least I didn't fall asleep during the sermon!)
Monday, February 13, 2012
Everybody Can't Stand Jack Benny!
In 1945, that star of stage, screen, and radio, Jack Benny, hit on one of the strangest publicity campaigns of all time. After spending seven episodes building context and suspense, his listeners were presented with a contest. They had up to fifty words to finish a sentence. At that time, such contests were common. Both regional and national products would give prizes for the best answers to "I like Product X because…" Why shouldn't Jack Benny sponsor such a contest? Only his contest was different. Instead of giving answers for why they liked Jack Benny, from December 2nd to 24th of 1945, his audience had to complete:
I Cant's Stand Jack Benny Because …
It turned out that an astonishingly large portion of his audience couldn't stand him. Several hundred thousand letters were received, and the panel of judges, which included Goodman Ace, Peter Lorre, and Fred Allen, needed over a month to select the best answer. Finally, on February 4, 1946, America learned what made Jack Benny so obnoxious:
He fills the air with boasts and brags,
And obsolete obnoxious gags.
The way he plays his violin
is music's most obnoxious sin.
His cowardice alone, indeed,
Is matched by his obnoxious greed.
And all the things that he portrays
Show up my own obnoxious ways.
Carroll P. Craig, Sr.(1945)
Winning entry in the 1945 "I Can't Stand Jack Benny Because. . ." Contest.
Odd, isn't it, that the best reason why we can't stand him is the same reason we love him?
On February 14, Happy Birthday, Jack Benny!
I Cant's Stand Jack Benny Because …
It turned out that an astonishingly large portion of his audience couldn't stand him. Several hundred thousand letters were received, and the panel of judges, which included Goodman Ace, Peter Lorre, and Fred Allen, needed over a month to select the best answer. Finally, on February 4, 1946, America learned what made Jack Benny so obnoxious:
He fills the air with boasts and brags,
And obsolete obnoxious gags.
The way he plays his violin
is music's most obnoxious sin.
His cowardice alone, indeed,
Is matched by his obnoxious greed.
And all the things that he portrays
Show up my own obnoxious ways.
Carroll P. Craig, Sr.(1945)
Winning entry in the 1945 "I Can't Stand Jack Benny Because. . ." Contest.
Odd, isn't it, that the best reason why we can't stand him is the same reason we love him?
On February 14, Happy Birthday, Jack Benny!
On Loving Geeks
Although I'm the last of the Little Old Ladies at my church (a funny story for another occasion), I'm only starting to try on my Red Hat. I am old enough, however, to have spent many Sunday School sessions bellowing with the rest of the class that venerable childhood chorus:
Jesus loves the little children!
All the children of the world!
Red or Yellow, Black or White,
They are precious in His sight!
Jesus loves the little children of the world!
And I learned to care about the children (and the grown-ups) who didn't look like me. After all, the Apostle Paul had said "Where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free: but Christ is all, and in all." (Colossians 3:11)
But there are people groups who do look like me, and whom Jesus does love, yet, from the reaction of other church-people , you'd hardly know it. I'm speaking of — and I use the term respectfully — The Geeks. The children who choose The Clone Wars over Veggie Tales, the teens who prefer science fiction to sports facts, the adults who fix your computers in your home, but who wouldn't go near God's house. Have you ever wondered why?
I think it's us. Last year, I heard a Christian broadcaster talk about an email he had received. His program that day was to have been about male bonding, or something of that nature, and the email had suggested that the men who participate in Star Wars-related costuming might be interested in hearing what he had to say, because that was one reason they joined such groups. Evidently, the broadcaster had not understood the message's main point, because he proceeded to belittle reenactors, Star Wars and Star Trek reenactors in particular, concluding with a remark that the program would be about real male bonding (or whatever it was).
I pray that no member of the 501st Legion heard that. Those of you familiar with this galaxy's manifestation of the Galaxy Far, Far Away, know that the 501st is a society of costumed Star Wars reenactors, primarily stormtroopers, who are noted for their participation in charitable, benevolent activities. They are not maladjusted misfits living in their mother's basement, but professional men and women, who have real jobs, live in their own homes, with their own families (who often enjoy "trooping" with them). Some of the acts of sacrifice they have made for each other I have held up as examples to my Sunday School class. But, while they all know Obi-Wan Kenobi, a lot of them may not know Jesus Christ. And knowing Jesus is eternal life.*
Someone must have told that broadcaster as much, because I understand he later apologized. Still, the point remains: prejudice is still a barrier to making God's truth known, and God's love felt, to geeks, who are just as needy spiritually, as any tax collector, prostitute, or pharisee.
Joe Stowell, former president of Chicago's Moody Bible Institute, once addressed this issue in a lecture he gave on the story of the Prodigal Son.**He had used it to show how Christians need to see people who aren't like them (and who may be hostile to them) the way God sees them. They are His wandering children who need to come home. The next thing to do is to pray for them. Pray that they will pay attention when God speaks to them; that you, or someone they will listen to, have an opportunity to show God's love to them. Dressing up like stormtroopers, or speaking Klingon, or knowing the number of regenerations Doctor Who has had, may not mean anything to you, but it's important to them. Instead of ridiculing them, your time might e better spent finding out why those activities are valued. Geeks most often associate with other geeks, because they don't make fun of each other.
Perhaps showing respect is the most effective way to reach geeks. I'm reminded that the highlight of Dr. Stowell's lecture was an illustration from Star Wars: A New Hope. In it, a couple of droids, Artoo Detoo and his buddy, walk into a bar that is filled with "the weirdest, Weirdest, WEIRDEST – I can't tell you how weird they were" characters. As they come in, the bartender shouts that they don't serve "their kind"— and they're the only normal-looking things in the place.
Remember: that may be how your geek friends will feel when they visit your cantina —er, church.
========================
Notes:
* John 18:3
**My copy has no air date or product number, but it was broadcast on Moody Presents during the late 1980s or early 1990s.
Jesus loves the little children!
All the children of the world!
Red or Yellow, Black or White,
They are precious in His sight!
Jesus loves the little children of the world!
And I learned to care about the children (and the grown-ups) who didn't look like me. After all, the Apostle Paul had said "Where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free: but Christ is all, and in all." (Colossians 3:11)
But there are people groups who do look like me, and whom Jesus does love, yet, from the reaction of other church-people , you'd hardly know it. I'm speaking of — and I use the term respectfully — The Geeks. The children who choose The Clone Wars over Veggie Tales, the teens who prefer science fiction to sports facts, the adults who fix your computers in your home, but who wouldn't go near God's house. Have you ever wondered why?
I think it's us. Last year, I heard a Christian broadcaster talk about an email he had received. His program that day was to have been about male bonding, or something of that nature, and the email had suggested that the men who participate in Star Wars-related costuming might be interested in hearing what he had to say, because that was one reason they joined such groups. Evidently, the broadcaster had not understood the message's main point, because he proceeded to belittle reenactors, Star Wars and Star Trek reenactors in particular, concluding with a remark that the program would be about real male bonding (or whatever it was).
I pray that no member of the 501st Legion heard that. Those of you familiar with this galaxy's manifestation of the Galaxy Far, Far Away, know that the 501st is a society of costumed Star Wars reenactors, primarily stormtroopers, who are noted for their participation in charitable, benevolent activities. They are not maladjusted misfits living in their mother's basement, but professional men and women, who have real jobs, live in their own homes, with their own families (who often enjoy "trooping" with them). Some of the acts of sacrifice they have made for each other I have held up as examples to my Sunday School class. But, while they all know Obi-Wan Kenobi, a lot of them may not know Jesus Christ. And knowing Jesus is eternal life.*
Someone must have told that broadcaster as much, because I understand he later apologized. Still, the point remains: prejudice is still a barrier to making God's truth known, and God's love felt, to geeks, who are just as needy spiritually, as any tax collector, prostitute, or pharisee.
Joe Stowell, former president of Chicago's Moody Bible Institute, once addressed this issue in a lecture he gave on the story of the Prodigal Son.**He had used it to show how Christians need to see people who aren't like them (and who may be hostile to them) the way God sees them. They are His wandering children who need to come home. The next thing to do is to pray for them. Pray that they will pay attention when God speaks to them; that you, or someone they will listen to, have an opportunity to show God's love to them. Dressing up like stormtroopers, or speaking Klingon, or knowing the number of regenerations Doctor Who has had, may not mean anything to you, but it's important to them. Instead of ridiculing them, your time might e better spent finding out why those activities are valued. Geeks most often associate with other geeks, because they don't make fun of each other.
Perhaps showing respect is the most effective way to reach geeks. I'm reminded that the highlight of Dr. Stowell's lecture was an illustration from Star Wars: A New Hope. In it, a couple of droids, Artoo Detoo and his buddy, walk into a bar that is filled with "the weirdest, Weirdest, WEIRDEST – I can't tell you how weird they were" characters. As they come in, the bartender shouts that they don't serve "their kind"— and they're the only normal-looking things in the place.
Remember: that may be how your geek friends will feel when they visit your cantina —er, church.
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Notes:
* John 18:3
**My copy has no air date or product number, but it was broadcast on Moody Presents during the late 1980s or early 1990s.
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