“Turn from evil and do good; then you will dwell in the land forever.”

• Psalm 37:27 

I recall sitting in the office of an executive with the Wall Street firm where I was once employed discussing the challenges of dealing with unethical or marginally ethical people within our industry.  (Every profession has them, by the way.)  The executive with whom I was meeting made a comment I will never forget.  Bad people never last, he assured me.  Eventually they go too far, step over the line, and get caught resulting in disciplinary action, firing, revoked licenses, lawsuits, or prosecution – and on rare occasions all the above.  I disagreed; for it seemed these clever shysters were ever present in my world placing an enormous burden on my staff and me to constantly monitor and police their activities – not the best use of our time and energy.  It’s just a fact of life, though, that from petty dishonesty to crime to terrorism to murderous dictatorships, evil is forever among us, and indeed has been throughout the history of mankind.

Someone once said that no matter how things may appear, there is no future in evil, only in good.  Pondering that has caused me to take heart; for discouraging as it is when it seems the bad guys win, when we consider that throughout history when evil actually is defeated – and it always is eventually, though not necessarily within our lifetimes – it is because in some way good has prevailed, thus validating that there is no future in evil, only in good.  Or as my old Wall Street executive friend assured me, bad people never last.

On Mount Sinai Moses received the same assurance from the Lord himself who said, “. . . for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.”

So we should take heart in doing good, for by doing so we are paving a path for the future; as there is no future in evil, only in good.  Or as the Psalmist affirms, “. . . do good; then you will dwell in the land forever.”

“Love your neighbor as yourself.”  – Matthew 22:39

Loving America

On a road trip a few years ago with one of our granddaughters we stopped in St. Louis to visit the Arch.  While there I found myself standing in line next to an elderly gentleman on a walker wearing a baseball cap bearing the Stars and Stripes.  In a gesture to be nice I remarked to the man, “I like your cap.” Smiling back at me, this was his reply.  “I still love America, don’t you?”  Ironically, when that occurred I happened to be in the midst of reading If You Can Keep It: The Forgotten Promise of American Liberty, a newly released book by Eric Metaxas, which included a chapter entitled “Loving America”.

Prior to these simultaneous experiences I’m not sure I had given much thought about loving my native America and what that means, especially in light of the widespread ideological polarization and negative political rhetoric we are exposed to today.  But Lincoln believed, according to Metaxas, “that love of country is necessary, that America cannot and will not survive without it.”  To do so, though, requires taking a realistic view of America as being both heroically great, yet also deeply flawed.  We should, for example, feel a healthy sense of pride for the “greatest generation” who saved our country and the world from tyranny in World War II; or the courageous responders to the 9/11 attacks.  By the same token America has made shameful blunders in its history, the most obvious and egregious being slavery and the racism that continues to infiltrate our culture.  As Metaxas points out, “Heroism and ignominy both are part of our history.  The only question is whether, having seen both, we can repent of the one and rejoice and be inspired by the other.”  Considering both, then, can we still love America?

But there’s another factor yet to be mentioned, which has to do with Jesus’ command to “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  The late Fred Rogers, of “Mister Roger’s Neighborhood” fame, once told how when he was a small child his mother encouraged him to always look for the helpers.  She’s right, we should all look for the helpers, and they are not hard to find.  I see them every day, all around, and from every walk – kind, caring, generous, friendly, good people who love their neighbors.  When it gets right down to the basics, this is the America I wake up to and encounter every day.  And it is why I still love America.  Happy July 4^th . . .  and may God bless America!

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”

• Ecclesiastes 3:1 

To me it is the most surreal story ever told.  It happened one day when Jesus invited three of his closest pals, Peter, James, and John, to accompany him on a hike up to the top of a mountain.  To their astonishment, on that mountaintop stood a couple of Jesus’ old friends from the past, famous men from hundreds of years before, one being Moses and the other Elijah.  Suddenly as Jesus chatted with them his appearance began to change, such that, as scripture tells us, “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as light.”  For Peter, James, and John, it was like nothing they had ever experienced, beyond any magical moment one could ever imagine, as if time stood still.  Peter even suggested they put up shelters so they could all stay there forever, so the moment would never end.  It was not to be, though – at least not yet – and Jesus led the three back down the mountain from where they had come.

Have you ever had one of those surreal moments?  It happened once for me when we traveled to Italy several years ago with a group of close friends to tour the regions of Tuscany and Umbria.  The very first night we were there – tired and jet-lagged, yet full of excitement about the days ahead – we had dinner reservations at a quaint restaurant across from our hotel in the small city of Pietrasanta.  What we thought would be a simple meal and an early bedtime turned into one of the most magical evenings any of us had ever experienced.  The food, the wine, the ambiance, the people – whatever it was it felt as if time stood still.  We wanted to stay there forever.  It was not to be, of course.

This past week over lunch I had to bid farewell to my longtime friend, Charlie.  Over the years Charlie has been my counselor, encourager, teacher, spiritual advisor, pastor, role model, and confessor.  But the time had come that he must move on, to live closer to family as he should, and eventually, I’m sure, to become pastor, teacher, and confessor to others.  Except, I did not want him to go.  I wanted him to be around forever.

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”  And one thing I have learned is that just as spring follows winter, so every ending is followed by new beginnings.  So it will be for my friend Charlie and me.

“. . . let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”  Hebrews 12:1 

Even though I was listed on the roster as a bona fide member of my high school’s varsity track team, I’m not sure I contributed much other than being a warm body who showed up for practice.  Too slow for the hundred-yard dash, not coordinated enough to run hurdles, jump high, or pole-vault, and not strong enough to throw the shotput, the coach had few options except to enter me in long-distance races.  Unfortunately, I did not do well in them either.

Yet, in adult life I became an avid runner and have remained so for thirty-five years, an exercise I practice several days a week, although more cautiously and slowly as I have grown older and my joints more vulnerable to injury.  And I should also hasten to say I have never been a particularly competitive runner, nor have I ever run marathons, 5k’s and 10k’s being the extent of my participation in races.  Still, I do wear a stopwatch when I run to time myself, so in a way I guess I compete against myself.  But my purpose in running has mostly been an endeavor to maintain weight and overall good health, nothing more, and so far that has served me well.

What I have learned about running, both from the high school track team and as an adult runner, is that there is a vast difference between training for a sprint, like a hundred-yard dash, and training for a long-distance run like a 10k or a marathon; for it means little to a distance runner if he covers the first hundred yards in ten seconds.  While speed is a great asset in many sports, for long-distance runners it is the ability to stick with it mile after mile that counts.  Steadfastness, not simply short-term fastness, determines the winner.  Or as that smart-aleck hare learned the hard way when he challenged the tortoise to a race in Aesop’s renowned fable, “slow and steady wins the race.”

The older I get the more I recognize the similarities between distance running and a life well lived.  Yes, having the ability to run fast serves us well at times, especially in those early years of starting a career or raising a young family.  But ultimately, life is a distance run not a sprint, where steadfastness and endurance far outweigh speed in determining the winners.  So, “. . . let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” 

“. . . clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

• Colossians 3:12 

George Eliot, renowned English novelist and poet, once issued a great challenge.  “What do we live for,” she asked, “if it is not to make life less difficult to each other?”

A lovely couple, both in their nineties, lived down the street from us for the longest time, until they both passed away.  One morning the poor lady fell in her yard while getting the newspaper and was unable to get up.  Another neighbor happened to see the incident and rushed to her aid getting her back on her feet and safely into her house.  Fortunately, except for being a little traumatized, she was not injured.  Upon learning about this, my wife Tee, while on her early morning walks with our dog, began to pick up the couple’s paper and place it next to their front door.  This routine continued for several months until another caring neighbor picked up on the same idea, often beating her to it.  Now, I don’t know this for a fact, but I think it may well have been Tee’s kind act that had inspired the other neighbor to do likewise, creating sort of a ripple effect.

In this age of instantaneous social and mainstream media, we are bombarded by a barrage of news, most of it bad, impacting millions of people – most notably a world-wide pandemic, drugs, crime, threats of terrorist attacks, human injustice, racism, and dysfunctions within our political system.  I don’t know about you, but sometimes I become overwhelmed by this, paralyzed from doing anything because my meager actions don’t seem to matter anyway, at least not enough to make a difference.  Wrong!  I can make a difference.  I can do things like what my wife did for our sweet neighbors down the street.  And we never know what kind of ripple effect that might inspire; for as Margaret Mead famously said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world.  Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

“. . . clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience,” St. Paul reminds us.  Or as that lovely poem by Emily Dickinson says, “If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or Cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin, Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.”  Indeed, “what do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult to each other?”