Going, going, gone!

I am happy to announce that over Labor Day weekend we successfully negotiated an agreement with a buyer on Shelby’s house.  Of course, the house will have to be inspected and all the paperwork will have to be satisfactorily completed, and so on, so I’m not uncorking the champagne just yet.  But I have no reason to expect anything to go wrong.  The closing will be in about 45 days.  I thank you all for your prayers!

Whom Would Jesus Bomb?

I recently saw a bumper sticker that read “Who would Jesus bomb?”  A rhetorical question, obviously, and the rhetoric has some power.  The writer has invoked Jesus, whom we in 21st-century America do not typically think of as a political or military leader like Dwight Eisenhower, but as a gentle and compassionate leader like Ghandi or Mother Theresa.  Therefore, our unreflective response to the question “Who would Jesus bomb?” is “no one.” 

But is this impression of Jesus accurate?  Is there no circumstance Jesus would use force to address?

In Joshua 5:13-15, a man appears to Joshua “with a drawn sword in his hand” calling himself “commander of the army of the LORD.”  He accepts Joshua’s worship, and says that the ground where they are standing is holy.  He is not named, but it seems likely that this is Jesus.

All four of the Gospels give an account of Jesus arriving at the temple and driving out those who were selling animals for sacrifice there, overturning their tables.  The account in John 2:13-17 adds that he “made a whip out of cords.”  This doesn’t sound like Ghandi.

And then there is this passage from Revelation 19:11-16: 

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True.  With justice he judges and makes war.  His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns.  He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself.  He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.  The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean.  Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations.  “He will rule them with an iron scepter.”  He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty.  On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written:  “King of Kings and Lord of Lords.” 

This can be no one but Jesus, and he doesn’t seem to have come for afternoon tea.

So, the questions is not whether Jesus would approve of forceful methods, but under what circumstances would he do so.  Jesus obviously didn’t get his “meek and mild” reputation by behaving like Ghengis Khan.  One of his final commands before going to the cross was “Love each other as I have loved you,”(John 15:14) and love does not usually express itself in the dropping of bombs.  So, one would expect violence to be used rarely and circumspectly — if at all — by Jesus’ followers.

So, what does it mean to “love each other”?  It means acting for the benefit of others.  If I see person A acting with the obvious intent to harm person B and I have the power to stop person A from doing so, would it be loving for me to refuse to stop him?  What if the only way to stop him was to harm him, or even kill him?  What if, instead of persons A and B we were talking about nations A and B?  (I do not claim to have all wisdom regarding these questions, but I do think they deserve consideration.)  Revelation says, “With justice he judges and makes war.”  And for the sake of justice, I believe we too must use our judgment and that may mean making war.

[Just to be clear, this post is not meant to be a defense of any particular war or use of force.]

What’s going on in my world, August 13

After all the excitement of finishing up Shelby’s house and getting it on the market, all of the effort apparently caught up with me.  I was just exhausted!  So, I’ve been doing a lot of resting and restful things.  Like (lately) watching the Olympics.  I’m finally starting to recover.

I’ve been practicing my clarinet semi-regularly, and that has been rewarding in itself.  I am up to the section in the Klose book where he gives 50 progressive (that is, progressively more difficult) duets.  I have been recording myself playing one of the parts, and then playing the other part along with the recording.  It lacks the social aspect of a chamber ensemble, but it has been a lot of fun so far.  The first 24 have been pretty easy.  I peeked ahead at #50 — I have my work cut out for me.

I have been working on one of those heavyweight posts that seem to drive my blog stats, but so far I haven’t been able to make my thoughts coherent enough to publish. 

I’ve been doing a little thinking about how I want to organize a few things around the house — just thinking at this point, no action.

As for the house, we’ve had four showings scheduled so far this week.  We’re praying that it will sell quickly, and ask you to pray with us!

The celebrated method

Last night I got my clarinet out again and practiced.  I’m not in a group right now, and I’m not taking lessons, so I don’t have anything in particular to prepare.  I decided to break out H. Klose’s Celebrated Method for the Clarinet, which my first teacher called “the clarinet Bible” and insisted that I buy a copy.  I decided that I would work through it from front to back.  I’m not sure if that’s the way it was intended to be used, but I am the methodical sort and I need a plan.  So far, it’s working for me:  I was able to play for almost an hour last night, and my tone is coming back. 

I have been in two chamber ensembles, and each was a great joy to me.  Oddly enough, they were both trios, and both were formed essentially the same way:  one of my friends was wanting to start a group, and they asked me if I wanted to be part of it.  Then the two of us went looking for a third person to make it complete.  In a nice bit of continuity, the “third person” in the first trio became the “friend” in the second trio. 

This time I am the first person rather than the second, and it’s more of a challenge for me.  I hope I have a friend who will be willing to join me on this journey.

Turning Point

At last, the day has come!  We have an appointment with the realtor in just a few hours, and the house will soon have a “for sale” sign in front of it!  I’m sure that my work there will not be entirely done until we sign the papers at closing, but this represents a significant turning point and we are certainly going to celebrate it.

I already know what will occupy me next:  while I’ve been spending so much time on Shelby’s house, my own house has been neglected.  We’ve moved lots of “stuff” from his house to ours, and it’s all sitting wherever we could make it fit at the time.  Some of it needs to be sold or given away, but most of it will need to have a “place” appointed for it.  Order must be imposed on the chaos!

What’s going on in my world, July 22

This weekend I went to my niece’s wedding — yes, the same niece whose high school graduation reception I went to a couple of months ago.  Ah, young love!  It was an outdoor wedding, at the lake.  Storms were in the forecast, but the Lord smiled on the event and kept the dark clouds miles away.  The bride cried through the whole ceremony, tears of joy like I’ve never seen at any wedding that wasn’t scripted in Hollywood.  The reception was outdoors, too, and despite the heat we stayed there much later than we had intended, talking with relatives until the sun had nearly set.

We continue to slog away on the house.  Since my last report I have touched up the paint on the front porch, pulled weeds in the flower garden, and replaced some broken mini-blinds.  Tonight I plan to remove the last of the stuff from the garage.  Tomorrow we’ll be renting a power washer to blast the brick facade clean.  If all goes well, we’ll call the realtor Thursday or Friday and start the process of getting the place listed for sale.  Hallelujah!

What Job Said

Sorrow has visited our house frequently in the past two years.  Around Thanksgiving of 2006, Jeremiah, our oldest cat, became seriously ill and died.  He had been part of our family for more than 10 years, since shortly after our wedding.  Shelby’s condition took a turn for the worse around the same time, and he passed away in February of 2007.  We “inherited” his 17-year-old cat, Gertrude.  That summer, Abigail, our middle “child,” also became terminally ill.  And as winter rolled around again, Gertrude followed suit, leaving us with only our “baby,” Rosie.

Rosie is a very outgoing cat, and craves attention and playtime.  We thought maybe it was finally time to get her a new playmate.  When Jen received an e-mail about a 6-week old long-haired tortie kitten who’d had her shots and was already litterbox trained, we thought it sounded like a golden opportunity.  But Ava had been in our home less than three hours when she fell limp and had to be rushed to the emergency veterinary hospital.  Her blood sugar was extremely low, and she had had a seizure.  After two and a half days of care and prayer, her condition proved to be insurmountable.

Ava’s death was hard for us, not because we were particularly attached to her, but because of what she represented to us:  a new start, an affirmation that life goes on, an expression of hope for a happier tomorrow.

In circumstances like this, one is naturally inclined to look for a reason — something bigger than “kidney failure,” “heart disease,” “cancer,” or the like.  But reasons like those are all science can offer, all that merely human knowledge can supply.  And those answers simply do not satisfy, no matter how accurate or otherwise useful they may be.  No, under such circumstances one seeks deep answers, meaningful answers.  And for this, one must go to the only One Who knows:  to God Himself.

And that is just what Job did when sorrow visited him.  I notice that despite the fervency of his prayers and the righteousness of his life to that point, Job received the same answer that I have:  no answer at all.  Job did get more than silence, though:  in response to all his questions, Job received… more questions.  But they were the right questions. 

Sometimes coming up with the right answer is simply a matter of asking the right question.  And the answer to God’s question was, essentially, that God is in charge and I am not.  So, the words Job said at first were the right ones:  “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.” 

God still loved Job, and in the course of time He restored to him double what he had lost.  And God still loves Jen and me, too.  But when sorrow comes there is nothing for us to do but cry and allow God to be God, to remember that He has loved us and trust that He will bring us joy again.

Mid-July Miscellaneous

Bullet points from my world:

1.  Last week we adopted a cute little 6-week-old kitten named Ava.  To make a long story short (I’ve been working on the longer version, and I may share it here later), it turned out she had some serious health challenges and she passed away just after midnight on Friday.  Also see Jen’s post about it (and a picture) here. 

2.  We went to a wedding Saturday night (the daughter of our former house church pastor).  The ceremony was beautiful and went off without a hitch.  The reception was festive, and it was really nice to see old friends.  And it took our minds off everything else for a while, which was marvelous.

3.  At the house, I’ve given away most of the pile of cardboard boxes and installed some drain pipe extensions.  A crew is coming to deep-clean the house tonight, and I’m hoping to touch up the paint on the front porch railings and steps.

4.  Last night I rescued my neglected clarinet from the closet and played for about 20 minutes, which was all my poor out-of-shape chops could manage.  My new year’s resolution is to start another chamber ensemble.  At the time, I had hoped to be done with the house a lot sooner than this.  But I figure for now I can at least start practicing again and get myself in shape.

That’s all for now.

Another load

I guess we still had a lot of stuff to get rid of.  One of Shelby’s old friends stopped by the house yesterday evening, and I helped him load his truck and one of those homemade pickup-truck-bed trailers full of odds and ends to haul off to to the scrap metal yard (or to add to his own collection of odds and ends).  We couldn’t get it all to fit, so he’s going to come back in a few days for another load.  He was glad to get the stuff.  I was glad to get rid of it.  Everybody’s happy!

At least, I think I’m happy.  We’re really close to being finished with this project, but to tell the truth, I’m a little reluctant to let it go.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe it’s just the uncertainty about what happens next.

Don’t try this at home, kids

We were pretty worn out coming into this holiday weekend, so we didn’t get as much done over at the house as I thought we might.  But we did spend a couple of hours in the heat (ice water, anyone?) loading up the collection of lumber Shelby had stored above his garage, hauling it to our house and stowing it away above our own garage. 

I also did a little yard work.  I got the lawn mowed, trimmed a few broken tree branches, and sprayed the poison oak that has taken up residence along the back fence.  That last part ended up being another cause for thankfulness:  A gentle breeze caught hold of the weedkiller flying through the air and blew it into my eyes.  I then spent some quality time over the sink rinsing out my eyes with water.  I’m fine now (thankfully), but you can bet I’ll be wearing goggles the next time I spray the weeds!