In the News ... Opinion: "Singing to God"

• Today, I want to encourage you to add something to your daily devotion ...

Gian Carlo Villatoro

By Gian Carlo Villatoro, Founding Pastor, Victory Church Odessa, Guest Contributor
• Odessa American

ODESSA, TEXAS - Every believer should have a daily devotion. Do you read the Bible every day? Do you start your day thinking of God? Do you give thanks to the Lord for another day of life? Do you complain to Him? Well, even if you complain, at least you’re communicating with Him. That is better than nothing.

However, we know that babies complain because they don’t know how to handle things. Little ones complain because they don’t understand much about life, and they only care for themselves. Who else complains? Most of the time the selfish person is constantly complaining, rather than being grateful. It’s true, maybe you have the money to pay for things and you expect a good service or product in return. However, is that your personality? Complaining all the time about everything? Really? Don’t you think it is childish of you, too?

A daily devotion is a discipline to honor our Lord God that every believer should do. Including prayers to give thanks to the good Lord for another day, presenting your requests, and also interceding for others. A daily devotion should include reflecting on a passage of the scripture.

Today, I want to encourage you to add something to your daily devotion. I want you to start singing to God every day. There is power when you are worshiping God with music. The Lord God doesn’t pay too much attention to your singing abilities. He is listening to your heart more than anything. There are people that they can sing professionally to God, but their hearts are far away from Him. What’s the point? The Lord God is always searching for hearts, people that love Him, people that need Him, people that know they are nothing without the good Lord.

Singing to the good Lord is powerful in the spiritual world. Giving praises to the good Lord. Honoring Him by keeping a melody that exalts the name of Jesus. Humming in your heart because you know the Holy Spirit is dwelling inside of you, and you love that feeling.

Singing to the good Lord should be part of your daily devotion and also your daily life. You don’t need to be in church on Sunday to lift up your hands and sing hallelujah. You don’t need a band of musicians around you or a choir. Actually, you don’t even need anybody singing in the background ...

• Read the rest of this OA report ...

... the day before The Day ...

Big day, tomorrow ... and not just for all Christians, but for all peoples ... that's what I believe.

"We are the Easter people," Pastor Jim Miles of First Prez-Fort Stockton would remind us, and not just in the days leading up to Easter, but throughout the year. And that is what we affirm tomorrow, the day for which we have been preparing over the past six weeks, the day for which we live - or at least try to live - at all times.

A promise was made on a joyful, star-lit night, in a stable in Bethlehem ... but that promise was kept on a bloody, storm-darkened day, on a hill outside of Jerusalem ... and later in a place of tombs in the early morning.

A photo I took on a highway north of Mason, Texas.

Big day tomorrow, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ ... big day ... THE day, really. But I find myself wondering what it was like the day before The Day ... what was it like during those long hours that passed between Christ's crucifixion and his resurrection? I can't help but think it's easier for us, two-thousand years later, with the benefit of hindsight, with the Word in our hands, our minds, our hearts. But back then ... right then, right there? What was it like for the followers of Jesus on THAT very first day before The Day?

I've always felt a little sorry for Peter, one of the first (and perhaps the greatest) of Jesus' disciples. How many times have I listened to some discussion in Sunday school that included talking some smack about Peter and his shortcomings ... it's especially pronounced now, as we are reminded for the umpteenth time of his denial of Jesus outside the house where Christ was being held. What must it have been like - that day before The Day - for Peter?

Of course, that was Peter before The Day, and before Pentecost. The man that emerges from all that is someone and something else entirely. There is still a growing, learning, developing spirit and awareness in him ... but there is no longer any doubt, or any denial.

But before that? I can only imagine ... because I know, now, and I believe ...

He is risen ...

Christ is risen, indeed ...

Alleluia! Amen!

In the News ... Opinion: "Enter this new day of post Roe v Wade with grace and peace"

• "Here are some practical steps for our future"

By Pastor Darin Wood, First Baptist Church - Midland, Contributor
• Midland Reporter-Telegram

MIDLAND, TEXAS - As we enter this new day of post Roe v Wade, let us do so with grace and peace for those who disagree and not a spirit of conquest. Those who disagree with us are not our enemies so let’s not treat them as such. They are fellow Americans, gifted with the same freedoms we have. Instead of such animosity, let us live in this new day with a joy of protecting the unborn and all life. Let us live responsibly to fulfill our calling in Christ and our commission toward a more perfect union ...

 • Read the rest of this MRT report ...

In the News ... Opinion: "Southern Baptist Convention has met a day of reckoning. We must do better to stop sexual abuse"

AP Photo by Mark Humphrey

• As a pastor who holds Southern Baptist Convention school degrees and has served on boards for SBC entities, I am mortified by what report disclosed

By Pastor Eric Costanzo, South Tulsa Baptist Church, Guest Contributor
• Abilene Reporter-News

ABILENE, TEXAS - A dark and difficult day has come for the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC). We knew it was coming. It needed to come. And it is devastating.

As the prophet Isaiah warned, “What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar? To whom will you run for help? Where will you leave your riches?”

The Southern Baptist Convention and our convention of churches now have nowhere to turn, nowhere to run, and no place left to look but inward ...

• Read the rest of this ARN report ...

In the News ... Opinion: "Senseless killings, such as Sutherland Springs and Uvalde, are our crosses"

• We have witnessed this scene too many times

By Bill Tinsley, Columnist
• Abilene Reporter-News

ABILENE, TEXAS - We are reeling, again, stunned once more from the senseless murders of 19 fourth-grade children and their two teachers in Uvalde.

We have seen their faces and recalled their names. We have watched the videos of their family and friends embraced in grief, weeping. And, as a nation, this week we mourn with them as they bury their dead.

Like everyone else, I am disturbed ...

• Read the rest of this ARN report ...

In the News ... Opinion: "First Baptist pastor laments for the SBC"

• "For those of us who are SBC lifers, this has been a difficult week to say the least."

By Pastor Darin Wood, First Baptist Church - Midland, Contributor
• Midland Reporter-Telegram

MIDLAND, TEXAS - Throughout FBC’s 136-year history, our church has always been a Southern Baptist church, primarily because of our shared commitment to Biblical truth, evangelism and missions. Each and every time you give to FBC, a portion of it goes to the Southern Baptist convention and her associated ministries. As such, we often join in the Annual meeting. Each year in June, the SBC meets to conduct the business of the year, gathering thousands of Baptists from across the US to a central location. There are more than 40,000 Southern Baptist churches across the US representing more than 14 million Baptists.The annual meeting is the only time for official business on a broad scale to be conducted. This last June, at the annual meeting a task force was formed and assigned the responsibility of researching and reporting back on the sexual abuse issues plaguing the convention for more than three decades.

On May 22, the report was presented online for review before the upcoming convention next month ...

 • Read the rest of this MRT report ...

In the News ... Opinion: "Reaction to Uvalde: Our society needs hope; humanity needs love"

Pastor Daniel Stephens

• Understanding that every human heart has the capacity for evil places the blame not on a policy or lack thereof but on the man or woman in the mirror.

By Pastor Daniel Stephens, Mid-Cities Church, Contributor
• Midland Reporter-Telegram

MIDLAND/ODESSA, TEXAS - How are we supposed to process the senseless taking of 19 innocent, young lives in Uvalde? Another wave of devastating news crashed on the anxious psyche of the American public. Last week, it was a racially motivated massacre of 10 innocent lives in Buffalo, New York, and now this. One can barely comprehend the most recent evil act before another overtakes it in the headlines. Opinion makers and others who identify as journalists provide brief factual talking points followed by an empathetic sentiment, followed by a political discourse that places the blame at the feet of their perceived enemies. It’s the gun lobby. It’s the immigrants. It’s a mental health problem. It's violent video games. As the instigators of rage culture on Fox and CNN clothe themselves in the righteous indignation of their own thoughts that echo from their media chambers, what is really happening? And why do these horrific outbursts of violence occur? ...

 • Read the rest of this MRT report ...

My 2¢ ... "A precious moment ... a joyful noise"

He is risen ...
Christ is risen, indeed ...

"We are the Easter people," Pastor Jim Miles of First Prez-Fort Stockton reminds us ..... and that is what we affirm today, the day for which we have prepared all week, the day for which we live at all times. A promise was made on a joyful, star-lit night, in a stable in Bethlehem ... but that promise was kept on a bloody, storm-darkened day, on a hill outside of Jerusalem.

A good crowd for late service this morning at First Prez-Midland, and I don't think anyone went home disappointed. The church's staff and ministry did themselves proud today, and the message of Christ's resurrection - and our salvation - was loud, clear and compelling.

Today, there was a little something for everyone ... including me. A small notice in the church bulletin said, "Those who have sung the 'Hallelujah Chorus' and would like to join with the choir in this great anthem, please come to the chancel during the singing of 'The Day of Resurrection.'"

I had ... so I did. As I do every Easter, now, I sang that awesome piece with a choir. And not just the choir this morning, but accompanied by a strings and brass, percussion and organ.

I was a tenor in high school, and I don't quite have the range now, that I did then. The lump in my throat - not the result of stage fright but, rather of exhilaration - didn't help either ... what can I say? ... it was a wonderful moment. And even as I mangled this note or that, I didn't care ... I was making a joyful noise, nonetheless.

Perhaps what I felt was something like what Edward Hoagland once described ...

"Though I'd seen mobs behave savagely, some of my experience was of the moments when, on the contrary, a benign expressiveness, even a kind of sweetness, is loosed. When life seems to be an unmixed good, the more the merrier, and each man rises to a sense of glee and mitigation, alleviation, or freedom that, perhaps, we wouldn't quite dare to feel if he were alone. The smiling likeness, infectious blitheness, the loose, exultant sense of unity in which sometimes, the mass of people as a whole, seems to improve upon the better nature of the parts."

"This intrigued me."

"Just as with other natural wonders of the world, to which one relinquishes one's self, instead of feeling smaller, I often felt bigger when I was packed into a multitude And taking for granted the potential for mayhem of crowds, of which so much has been written, I was fascinated instead by the clear, pealing gaiety."

"It manifests itself, for instance, in the extraordinary quality that singing by a congregation acquires. The humdrum and unlovely voices gradually merge into a sweet, uniquely pristine note, a note angelic-sounding, hardly believable. Looking about, one can't see who in particular might have such a voice. Everybody in the pew has an expression as if he were about to sneeze, and squawks just a little. It is a note created only when hundreds sing ... it needs them all. No single person is responsible, any more than any individual in a mob lends that its bestiality."

"It's like riding in surf. It's like a Dantean ascent ... one circle up. Suddenly, we like all these strangers, even the stranger in ourselves, and seem to see a shape in life, as if all the exertions of the week really were justified and were a source of joy."

Alleluia ... Amen

---

With thanks to Florence Sherwood, Chorus Director at Dallas Senior High School, Dallas, Pennsylvania, for her wonderful talent and her incredible patience.

... the day before The Day ...

Big day, tomorrow ... and not just for all Christians, but for all peoples ... that's what I believe.

"We are the Easter people," Pastor Jim Miles of First Prez-Fort Stockton would remind us, and not just in the days leading up to Easter, but throughout the year. And that is what we affirm tomorrow, the day for which we have been preparing over the past six weeks, the day for which we live - or at least try to live - at all times.

A promise was made on a joyful, star-lit night, in a stable in Bethlehem ... but that promise was kept on a bloody, storm-darkened day, on a hill outside of Jerusalem ... and later in a place of tombs in the early morning.

A photo I took on a highway north of Mason, Texas.

Big day tomorrow, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ ... big day ... THE day, really. But I find myself wondering what it was like the day before The Day ... what was it like during those long hours that passed between Christ's crucifixion and his resurrection? I can't help but think it's easier for us, two-thousand years later, with the benefit of hindsight, with the Word in our hands, our minds, our hearts. But back then ... right then, right there? What was it like for the followers of Jesus on THAT very first day before The Day?

I've always felt a little sorry for Peter, one of the first (and perhaps the greatest) of Jesus' disciples. How many times have I listened to some discussion in Sunday school that included talking some smack about Peter and his shortcomings ... it's especially pronounced now, as we are reminded for the umpteenth time of his denial of Jesus outside the house where Christ was being held. What must it have been like - that day before The Day - for Peter?

Of course, that was Peter before The Day, and before Pentecost. The man that emerges from all that is someone and something else entirely. There is still a growing, learning, developing spirit and awareness in him ... but there is no longer any doubt, or any denial.

But before that? I can only imagine ... because I know, now, and I believe ...

He is risen ...

Christ is risen, indeed ...

Alleluia! Amen!

My 2¢ ... "A 'dang-Yankee-from-back-east' on Texas Independence Day"

Texas Independence Day is the celebration of the adoption of the Texas Declaration of Independence on March 2, 1836. With this document signed by 59 delegates, settlers in Mexican Texas officially declared independence from Mexico and created the Republic of Texas.
More from history.com ...

---

“To Texas ...

Joyous and sparkling,

Evergreen when it rains, enduring in drought,

Timeless, endless in boundaries, exciting,

Home to the adventurous of yesterday and today,

With shrines from the past, and space

and spirit for the future.

To Texas.

Everlasting in the hearts of your people!”

It was back in the 90's when, as editor of the Fort Stockton Pioneer, I was handed a letter from one of our readers, for publication in the next issue ... a letter admonishing our paper for not devoting adequate space to Texas Independence Day. She may have been Daughters of Republic of Texas (I honestly don't remember for certain), but she was certainly something of a Lone Star zealot ... an impression of mine that was reinforced by her comment as she handed me the letter ...

"You probably won't realize the importance of this, not being from around here."

Well, actually - I realized later, after I'd had time to think about it - I do, and so do a lot of dang-Yankees-from-back-east, such as myself. True, I am someone who - to borrow the old saying - wasn't born in Texas, but got here as fast as I could. But the same could be said for such Lone Star luminaries as Stephen Austin, William Travis, Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, Mirabeau Lamar and Sam Houston.

DON'T GET ME WRONG ... I do NOT equate myself with them - even remotely! But it doesn't hurt to remember that, with the exception of Juan Seguin and his company of Tejanos, you'd be hard-pressed to find a 'native Texan' on the Texas side of the revolution.

The Keystone Stater in me would like to point out that there were an estimated 13 Pennsylvanians defending the walls of the Alamo, and offering up their lives for the revolution and the ideals it represented. And well they should. Because it was something that had been important to them, their parents and their grandparents for more than half-a-century.

Maybe that's what bugged me about the woman's remark ... the fact that, 'not being from around here,' I would be unable to understand what was being decided in the Texas revolution. To my mind, it was something that all free-thinking people know ..... or should know.

You see, it wasn't just men that came to Texas ..... the ideals adopted at Washington on the Brazos had been conceived many years before, in Philadelphia ..... and the determination to defend those ideals in Goliad and Gonzales, San Antonio and San Jacinto, had been inspired - again, many years before - by what took place at Bunker Hill and Valley Forge, Lexington, Concord and Cowpens.

And let's not forget the the material needed to pursue that defense came from all over the United States, from the decision by Alabama to strip its state arsenal of muskets and send them west, to the Twin Sisters - a pair of canons donated by the 'People of Cincinnati, Ohio' and arriving just in time to blast a hole in the Mexicans' makeshift breastworks at San Jacinto.

And so, I lift my glass, and I will join the toast heard statewide today ..... but mine will be a private affair ... and while I may follow closely the words printed at the top of this post, I will deviate on one point, and replace the word 'Texas' with 'America' ... God Bless It!

---

ONE MORE THING ... With that one exception back then, people of Texas have been warm and welcoming to me these past 36 years, with an occasional, good-natured jab at my northern origins. :-) 

"Did you know ... ?"

... that earlier this week was "Four Chaplains Day" in the United States?

No? Well, you're not alone. The 79th anniversary of that fateful night, when four U.S. Army chaplains gave their lives that others might live, caused barely a ripple this week. It has come and gone quietly, and largely unmarked.

And I might have remained ignorant of the fact were it not for a stop, a few years ago, by Wikipedia's home page, where I perused their "This Day in History" column. A link in that column took me to a Wikipedia page where I learned that, in 1988, the United States Congress established February 3 as "Four Chaplains Day." And get this ... Congress acted unanimously in doing so ....ah, those were the good ol' days!

The page went on to note that some state or city officials commemorate the day with official proclamations, sometimes including the order that flags fly at half-mast in memory of the fallen chaplains. In some cases, official proclamations establish observances at other times: for example, North Dakota legislation requests that the Governor issue an annual proclamation establishing the first Sunday in February as "Four Chaplains Sunday."

Notice the frequent use use of some variation or another of the word "some."

The day is also observed as the "Day of the Dorchester Chaplains" in the lectionary cycle of the Episcopal Church in the United States of America. And there are memorials to the four chaplains - one Catholic, two Protestant, and one Jewish - in a variety of media around the country ... stained glass windows, stone monuments, postage stamps, building and chapel names ... and wax ... at least once upon a time.

I was reminded of a visit my family made to Washington, D.C. back in the sixties, while my father was posted to nearby Quantico, Virginia. One of our stops that day was to the National Historic Wax Museum. I don't recall the other exhibits ... but I remember the one devoted to the four chaplains, their commitment to their faith and their answer to their calling. It was a large exhibit, with the movement and noise that suggested a ship at sea, all set in a pool of water. The display - and the museum itself - is long gone. But I did find a picture ... ya gotta love the internet!

It is reported by the Four Chaplains Memorial Foundation that during the early morning hours of February 3, 1943, at 12:55 a.m., the USAT Dorchester was torpedoed by a German submarine in the North Atlantic. The torpedo knocked out the Dorchester's electrical system, leaving the ship dark. Panic set in among the men on board, many of them trapped below decks.

The foundation reports goes on to note that the chaplains sought to calm the men and organize an orderly evacuation of the ship, and helped guide wounded men to safety. As life jackets were passed out to the men, the supply ran out before each man had one. The chaplains removed their own life jackets and gave them to others. They helped as many men as they could into lifeboats, and then linked arms and, saying prayers and singing hymns, went down with the ship.

As I post this, Four Chaplains Day 2022 is past. Yet there's something about their story that could be/should be observed, cherished and shared throughout the year. May we never find ourselves in the desperate situation they faced ... but may we have at least a small portion of their courage, their love and their devotion for whatever life brings us. 

Call It what you will … but MARK it ...

In Flanders Fields
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved,
and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lt. Col. John Alexander McCrae, MD – Canadian Expeditionary Force

(Died January 28, 1918 in Boulogne, France)

Here in the U.S., one doesn’t see the poppies on people’s lapels so much, as we used to when I was a child … one of the most ridiculous victories in America’s ‘war of drugs’ was the declaration by ‘drug czars’ and their staffs that the poppy reminded people of addiction to drugs, rather than appreciation to those who gave the ‘last full measure of their devotion’ in service to their country. Such is not the case in Canada, England, and other countries that once formed the ‘Commonwealth.’ The paper poppies – and the fundraising for veterans’ relief that they represent – have been prominent in photos and video the past couple weeks.

Armistice Day, Remembrance Day, Veterans Day ….. call it what you will ….. but find some way to mark this day, whether through prayer and silence, but also through word and deed ... speaking-out and speaking-up on behalf of adequate availability and funding of support services for our military personnel (past and present) and their families.

Here, in the United States, the focus of the day has been expanded to honor all men and women who, throughout history, have answered their country’s call to service, and to sacrifice. There have been many in our own family over the past 246 years, but – mindful of the origins of this particular holiday – I will tell the boys of their great-grandfather Fred, a sergeant with the 102nd Balloon Company, U.S. Air Service,

American Expeditionary Force, and his service in France during the First World War.

At the same time, I will tell them of their great grandmother Velma, who was among the many combatants fighting a very different - but no less deadly - world war right here, at home, in America, during the 1918 influenza pandemic.

Thank you, and God bless you all!

... the day before The Day ...

Big day, tomorrow ... and not just for all Christians, but for all peoples ... that's what I believe.

"We are the Easter people," Pastor Jim Miles of First Prez-Fort Stockton would remind us, and not just in the days leading up to Easter, but throughout the year. And that is what we affirm tomorrow, the day for which we have been preparing over the past six weeks, the day for which we live - or at least try to live - at all times.

A promise was made on a joyful, star-lit night, in a stable in Bethlehem ... but that promise was kept on a bloody, storm-darkened day, on a hill outside of Jerusalem ... and later in a place of tombs in the early morning.

A photo I took on a highway north of Mason, Texas.

Big day tomorrow, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ ... big day ... THE day, really. But I find myself wondering what it was like the day before The Day ... what was it like during those long hours that passed between Christ's crucifixion and his resurrection? I can't help but think it's easier for us, two-thousand years later, with the benefit of hindsight, with the Word in our hands, our minds, our hearts. But back then ... right then, right there? What was it like for the followers of Jesus on THAT very first day before The Day?

I've always felt a little sorry for Peter, one of the first (and perhaps the greatest) of Jesus' disciples. How many times have I listened to some discussion in Sunday school that included talking some smack about Peter and his shortcomings ... it's especially pronounced now, as we are reminded for the umpteenth time of his denial of Jesus outside the house where Christ was being held. What must it have been like - that day before The Day - for Peter?

Of course, that was Peter before The Day, and before Pentecost. The man that emerges from all that is someone and something else entirely. There is still a growing, learning, developing spirit and awareness in him ... but there is no longer any doubt, or any denial.

But before that? I can only imagine ... because I know, now, and I believe ...

He is risen ...

Christ is risen, indeed ...

Alleluia! Amen!

Call It what you will … but MARK it ...

In Flanders Fields
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved,
and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lt. Col. John Alexander McCrae, MD – Canadian Expeditionary Force

(Died January 28, 1918 in Boulogne, France)

Here in the U.S., one doesn’t see the poppies on people’s lapels so much, as we used to when I was a child … one of the most ridiculous victories in America’s ‘war of drugs’ was the declaration by ‘drug czars’ and their staffs that the poppy reminded people of addiction to drugs, rather than appreciation to those who gave the ‘last full measure of their devotion’ in service to their country. Such is not the case in Canada, England, and other countries that once formed the ‘Commonwealth.’ The paper poppies – and the fundraising for veterans’ relief that they represent – have been prominent in photos and video the past couple weeks.

Armistice Day, Remembrance Day, Veterans Day ….. call it what you will ….. but find some way to mark this day, whether through prayer and silence, but also through word and deed ... speaking-out and speaking-up on behalf of adequate availability and funding of support services for our military personnel (past and present) and their families.

Here, in the United States, the focus of the day has been expanded to honor all men and women who, throughout history, have answered their country’s call to service, and to sacrifice. There have been many in our own family over the past 244 years, but – mindful of the origins of this particular holiday – I will tell the boys of their great-grandfather Fred, a sergeant with the 102nd Balloon Company, U.S. Air Service,

American Expeditionary Force, and his service in France during the First World War.

At the same time, I will tell them of their great grandmother Velma, who was among the many combatants fighting a very different - but no less deadly - world war right here, at home, in America, during the 1918 influenza pandemic.

Thank you, and God bless you all!

My 2¢ ... "A 'dang-Yankee-from-back-east' on Texas Independence Day"

Texas Independence Day is the celebration of the adoption of the Texas Declaration of Independence on March 2, 1836. With this document signed by 59 delegates, settlers in Mexican Texas officially declared independence from Mexico and created the Republic of Texas.
More from history.com ...

---

“To Texas ...

Joyous and sparkling,

Evergreen when it rains, enduring in drought,

Timeless, endless in boundaries, exciting,

Home to the adventurous of yesterday and today,

With shrines from the past, and space

and spirit for the future.

To Texas.

Everlasting in the hearts of your people!”

It was back in the 90's when, as editor of the Fort Stockton Pioneer, I was handed a letter from one of our readers, for publication in the next issue ... a letter admonishing our paper for not devoting adequate space to Texas Independence Day. She may have been Daughters of Republic of Texas (I honestly don't remember for certain), but she was certainly something of a Lone Star zealot ... an impression of mine that was reinforced by her comment as she handed me the letter ...

"You probably won't realize the importance of this, not being from around here."

Well, actually - I realized later, after I'd had time to think about it - I do, and so do a lot of dang-Yankees-from-back-east, such as myself. True, I am someone who - to borrow the old saying - wasn't born in Texas, but got here as fast as I could. But the same could be said for such Lone Star luminaries as Stephen Austin, William Travis, Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, Mirabeau Lamar and Sam Houston.

DON'T GET ME WRONG ... I do NOT equate myself with them - even remotely! But it doesn't hurt to remember that, with the exception of Juan Seguin and his company of Tejanos, you'd be hard-pressed to find a 'native Texan' on the Texas side of the revolution.

The Keystone Stater in me would like to point out that there were an estimated 13 Pennsylvanians defending the walls of the Alamo, and offering up their lives for the revolution and the ideals it represented. And well they should. Because it was something that had been important to them, their parents and their grandparents for more than half-a-century.

Maybe that's what bugged me about the woman's remark ... the fact that, 'not being from around here,' I would be unable to understand what was being decided in the Texas revolution. To my mind, it was something that all free-thinking people know ..... or should know.

You see, it wasn't just men that came to Texas ..... the ideals adopted at Washington on the Brazos had been conceived many years before, in Philadelphia ..... and the determination to defend those ideals in Goliad and Gonzales, San Antonio and San Jacinto, had been inspired - again, many years before - by what took place at Bunker Hill and Valley Forge, Lexington, Concord and Cowpens.

And let's not forget the the material needed to pursue that defense came from all over the United States, from the decision by Alabama to strip its state arsenal of muskets and send them west, to the Twin Sisters - a pair of canons donated by the 'People of Cincinnati, Ohio' and arriving just in time to blast a hole in the Mexicans' makeshift breastworks at San Jacinto.

And so, I lift my glass, and I will join the toast heard statewide today ..... but mine will be a private affair ... and while I may follow closely the words printed at the top of this post, I will deviate on one point, and replace the word 'Texas' with 'America' ... God Bless It!

---

ONE MORE THING ... With that one exception back then, people of Texas have been warm and welcoming to me these past 36 years, with an occasional, good-natured jab at my northern origins. :-) 

Call It what you will … but MARK it …..

This past hour, I was out on Beal Plaza, on the main campus of Midland, College, in silence and in prayer as the bells of the Hodge Carillon Tower tolled the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month ...

IN FLANDERS FIELDS

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved,
and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lt. Col. John Alexander McCrae, MD – Canadian Expeditionary Force

(Died January 28, 1918 in Boulogne, France)

Here in the U.S., one doesn’t see the poppies on people’s lapels so much, as we used to when I was a child … one of the most ridiculous victories in America’s ‘war of drugs’ was the declaration by ‘drug czars’ and their staffs that the poppy reminded people of addiction to drugs, rather than appreciation to those who gave the ‘last full measure of their devotion’ in service to their country. Such is not the case in Canada, England, and other countries that once formed the ‘Commonwealth.’ The paper poppies – and the fundraising for veterans’ relief that they represent – have been prominent in photos and video the past couple weeks.

Armistice Day, Remembrance Day, Veterans Day ….. call it what you will ….. but find some way to mark this day, whether through prayer and silence, but also through word and deed ... speaking-out and speaking-up on behalf of adequate availability and funding of support services for our military personnel (past and present) and their families.

Here, in the United States, the focus of the day has been expanded to honor all men and women who, throughout history, have answered their country’s call to service, and to sacrifice. There have been many in our own family over the past 244 years, but – mindful of the origins of this particular holiday – I will tell the boys of their great-grandfather Fred, a sergeant with the 102nd Balloon Company, U.S. Air Service,

American Expeditionary Force, and his service in France during the First World War.

At the same time, I will tell them of their great grandmother Velma, who was among the many combatants fighting a very different - but no less deadly - world war right here, at home, in America, during the 1918 influenza pandemic.

Thank you, and God bless you all!

Memorial Day

Reading in Wikipedia that, "Memorial Day is a federal holiday in the United States for remembering and honoring people who have died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. The holiday is observed on the last Monday of May. Memorial Day was observed on May 30 from 1868 to 1971."

"The practice of decorating soldiers' graves with flowers is an ancient custom.Some believe that an annual cemetery decoration practice began before the American Civil War and thus may reflect the real origin of the 'memorial day' idea."

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So much going through my head at this time ... how to express it? ... maybe I shouldn't try ... it's been said before, and said with words much better than anything I could compose ...

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."

"Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this."

"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

President Abraham Lincoln
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
November 19, 1863

A precious moment ... a joyful noise ...

He is risen ...
Christ is risen, indeed ...

"We are the Easter people," Pastor Jim Miles of First Prez-Fort Stockton reminds us ..... and that is what we affirm today, the day for which we have prepared all week, the day for which we live at all times. A promise was made on a joyful, star-lit night, in a stable in Bethlehem ... but that promise was kept on a bloody, storm-darkened day, on a hill outside of Jerusalem.

A good crowd for early service this morning at First Prez-Midland, and I don't think anyone went home disappointed. The church's staff and ministry did themselves proud today, and the message of Christ's resurrection - and our salvation - was loud, clear and compelling.

Today, there was a little something for everyone ... including me. A small notice in the church bulletin said, "Those who have sung the 'Hallelujah Chorus' and would like to join with the choir in this great anthem, please come to the chancel during the singing of 'The Day of Resurrection.'"

I had ... so I did. As I do every Easter, now, I sang that awesome piece with a choir. And not just the choir this morning, but accompanied by a strings and brass, percussion and organ.

I was a tenor in high school, and I don't quite have the range now, that I did then. The lump in my throat - not the result of stage fright but, rather of exhilaration - didn't help either ... what can I say? ... it was a wonderful moment. And even as I mangled this note or that, I didn't care ... I was making a joyful noise, nonetheless.

Perhaps what I felt was something like what Edward Hoagland once described ...

"Though I'd seen mobs behave savagely, some of my experience was of the moments when, on the contrary, a benign expressiveness, even a kind of sweetness, is loosed. When life seems to be an unmixed good, the more the merrier, and each man rises to a sense of glee and mitigation, alleviation, or freedom that, perhaps, we wouldn't quite dare to feel if he were alone. The smiling likeness, infectious blitheness, the loose, exultant sense of unity in which sometimes, the mass of people as a whole, seems to improve upon the better nature of the parts."

"This intrigued me."

"Just as with other natural wonders of the world, to which one relinquishes one's self, instead of feeling smaller, I often felt bigger when I was packed into a multitude And taking for granted the potential for mayhem of crowds, of which so much has been written, I was fascinated instead by the clear, pealing gaiety."

"It manifests itself, for instance, in the extraordinary quality that singing by a congregation acquires. The humdrum and unlovely voices gradually merge into a sweet, uniquely pristine note, a note angelic-sounding, hardly believable. Looking about, one can't see who in particular might have such a voice. Everybody in the pew has an expression as if he were about to sneeze, and squawks just a little. It is a note created only when hundreds sing ... it needs them all. No single person is responsible, any more than any individual in a mob lends that its bestiality."

"It's like riding in surf. It's like a Dantean ascent ... one circle up. Suddenly, we like all these strangers, even the stranger in ourselves, and seem to see a shape in life, as if all the exertions of the week really were justified and were a source of joy."

Alleluia ... Amen

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With thanks to Florence Sherwood, Chorus Director at Dallas Senior High School, Dallas, Pennsylvania, for her wonderful talent and her incredible patience.

... the day before The Day ...

Big day, tomorrow ... and not just for all Christians, but for all peoples ... that's what I believe.

"We are the Easter people," Pastor Jim Miles of First Prez-Fort Stockton would remind us, and not just in the days leading up to Easter, but throughout the year. And that is what we affirm tomorrow, the day for which we have been preparing over the past six weeks, the day for which we live - or at least try to live - at all times.

A promise was made on a joyful, star-lit night, in a stable in Bethlehem ... but that promise was kept on a bloody, storm-darkened day, on a hill outside of Jerusalem ... and later in a place of tombs in the early morning.

A photo I took on a highway north of Mason, Texas.

Big day tomorrow, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ ... big day ... THE day, really. But I find myself wondering what it was like the day before The Day ... what was it like during those long hours that passed between Christ's crucifixion and his resurrection? I can't help but think it's easier for us, two-thousand years later, with the benefit of hindsight, with the Word in our hands, our minds, our hearts. But back then ... right then, right there? What was it like for the followers of Jesus on THAT very first day before The Day?

I've always felt a little sorry for Peter, one of the first (and perhaps the greatest) of Jesus' disciples. How many times have I listened to some discussion in Sunday school that included talking some smack about Peter and his shortcomings ... it's especially pronounced now, as we are reminded for the umpteenth time of his denial of Jesus outside the house where Christ was being held. What must it have been like - that day before The Day - for Peter?

Of course, that was Peter before The Day, and before Pentecost. The man that emerges from all that is someone and something else entirely. There is still a growing, learning, developing spirit and awareness in him ... but there is no longer any doubt, or any denial.

But before that? I can only imagine ... because I know, now, and I believe ...

He is risen ...

Christ is risen, indeed ...

Alleluia! Amen!

3 Guys, 3 Generations, 3 Missions

A little bit of family, a little bit of history, and my own, personal experience of how – as Bob Dylan once observed – the times they are a’changin’ …

I am recently returned from a trip to the nation of Cuba … just 90 miles away from the United States … but worlds away in other respects. The relationship between our two nations has seen a lot of changes over the past 150 years-or-so … and there may be more changes ahead.

I am not the first member of my family to visit this island. I have known all along of one family member who was once here … but in the weeks leading up to my mission trip, I learned of others who have visited Cuba. With my visit, there have now been four of us … and a fifth who was enroute, but never made landfall, turning around in mid-transit to return to the United States.

This post focuses upon “3 Guys, 3 Generations, 3 Missions” …

The first was one of great-grandfathers, Robert Weilenbeck. The son of German immigrants, Robert lied about his age in order to enlist in the United States Army in the 1890s, and travel to Cuba to fight in the Spanish American War. His mission was to fight. Robert had a fighting spirit, I guess … almost 20 years after that, he would re-enlist, and serve in France during World War I … and more than 20 years after THAT, he would lie about his age again, and re-enlist to serve during World War II, making it through the preliminaries, before the family found him at a training depot, and the Army sent him home with their thanks for his service.

Back home, in the civilian world, Robert had a good record as an amateur and semi-pro boxer. Like I said, he had a fighting spirit. His vocation, though, was as an artist, creating stained and painted glass for churches, courthouse and so on … IMHO, one of the more interesting branches on my family tree.

The next guy, the next generation, was one of my uncles, Julius Fecht. Also descended from German immigrants, Julius traveled to Cuba more than once in the 1930s. But HIS mission was commerce, purchasing tobacco for his cigar factory back in the United States. Such factories were common back then, whether in Scranton, Pennsylvania or El Paso, Texas or anywhere in between. Most of those are gone now – cigar production i n the U.S. is different than it was back then. But the industry of cultivating tobacco, and producing hand-rolled cigars, is still thriving in Cuba … and are a popular souvenir for visitors to Cuba … Uncle Julius would be pleased.

The last guy? Me.
The last generation? Now.
The last mission? Faith.

Over most of two weeks in September, I was part of a Christian mission team serving in Cuba. The team included members from multiple states, including pastors and elders of various Presbyterian churches, and representative of the Outreach Foundation – a Presbyterian global agency – which organized this trip. This was a short-term ‘vision team,’ with a focus upon introduction, education and connection, and a goal of discerning God’s call to global engagement, and partnership development.

Over the course of those two weeks, I learned a thing-or-three … but I also had to UN-learn some things, as well. I benefited from both … and I’ll share some of that with you in the weeks ahead.