The Weight of Glory

 I started writing this column 16 years ago in 2009 when I was a young man of 62. It has been published in newspapers from Texas to California, Washington, Pennsylvania, Florida and states in between.  Online it has received over 400,000 views.  I reached my seventies without spending a night in the hospital.  In the last 6 years I have been hospitalized twice.  Both were emergencies that would have been fatal without exceptional medical care.  I am grateful. Next week, I will celebrate my 79^th birthday.  I am bumping up on 80!

 Aging is inevitable.  The Apostle Paul expressed his view of aging like this. “Therefore, we do not lose heart, but though our outer person is decaying, yet our inner person is being renewed day by day. For our momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal,” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

 Two months ago, my high school graduating class met for our 60^th year reunion.  About two thirds of our class still survive, but we hardly recognize one another.  For the last 10 years 4 of us who were classmates in first grade meet annually with a few others who attended the same high school.  Next year we hope to add a fifth person from our first-grade class. As Paul put it, our outer man is decaying.  We cannot replace the friends of our childhood, and we cannot hide old age.

 Regardless of our aging outer man, we all have an “inner man.”  Most of us don’t think of ourselves as old, until we try move, especially when we try to move fast.  For some the inner man is decaying along with the outer man, becoming more cynical, bitter, resentful, isolated and alone.  But for those who have faith in Christ, the opposite happens.  Our inner man is being renewed daily so that, in spite of whatever afflictions we endure, an eternal weight of glory continues to grow. 

 I have a best friend whom I have known for 50 years.  He is 91. I performed weddings for all his children and his granddaughter.  Eight years ago I preached his wife’s funeral.  We visit almost daily.  Increasingly he spends his days in prayer for others, looking forward to that day when the weight of glory that is within will be realized in heaven.

 Putting aside the ambitions, doubts and uncertainties of youth, we find increasing contentment in the small things … watching grandchildren grow, encouraging the younger generation, looking forward to eternal life in another dimension whose beauty far exceeds the majesty of mountains, forests, rivers lakes and oceans.  Science constantly reminds us that all that is seen is temporary, including not only the earth and our solar system, but the universe as well.  As Paul affirms, it is the unseen that sustains and inspires us.

Preparing for Thanksgiving

 The trees have turned.  Most have lost their leaves.  Invigorating cool air has spilled across the land.  Families are getting ready for Thanksgiving.  Some prepare for children to come home.  Others make plans to travel.  Thoughts turn to turkey, dressing, giblet gravy, pumpkin and pecan pie. Football is in the air.  I like Thanksgiving and the American traditions that go along with it.

 Thanksgiving is special to the American experience.  From the time we are children, we are taught to remember the Pilgrims who feasted with their Indian friends in 1621, giving thanks for their survival in the new world. In some schools children will walk out on stage wearing flat brimmed pilgrim hats and painted faces to re-enact the first Thanksgiving in front of adoring parents.

 George Washington signed the first Thanksgiving proclamation in 1789.  But the official annual holiday began in 1863 when Abraham Lincoln set aside the fourth Thursday of November as a day for giving thanks.  When he issued his proclamation, our nation was embroiled in Civil War. Young men by the thousands lay dead on the battlefields.  Families were gripped with grief.  But a wounded nation found solace for its soul by seeking a grateful heart.

 In times of prosperity and want, in times of war and peace, during the Great Depression, the Great Recession, we have paused as a nation on this final Thursday of November to remember and to be thankful.  For this one day, at least, we make sure that the homeless and the hungry are fed. On this day, we lay down our tools, close our computers and gather around tables with those whom we love the most.  We simply pause to enjoy one another and the goodness with which God has blessed us.

 Nothing is more important than cultivating a grateful and thankful heart.  We all experience blessing and loss.  God sends his rain on the just and the unjust.  The faithful and the unfaithful must weather the same storms. We all experience life and love that we do not deserve.  We will all suffer disappointment, injustice and pain.  Illness will come. The loss of loved ones will come.  The same circumstances sow the seeds of bitterness and resentment, thankfulness and gratitude. The former leads to death.  The latter leads to life. 

 The Bible is clear about the importance of thanksgiving.  The Psalms are filled with thanksgiving and praise.  Jeremiah envisioned desolate Jerusalem restored with gratitude saying: “the voice of joy and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the voice of those who say, ‘Give thanks to the Lord of hosts, for the Lord is good, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.’" (Jer. 33:11).  Paul wrote, “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.”  (Colossians 2:6). 

Response To Confusing Times

  Five years ago, on a beautiful evening in Colorado, we opened our windows to a refreshing breeze of mountain air.  We listened to the stillness, interrupted by the distinct sounds of howling.  We stepped outside.  It is not entirely unusual for coyotes to howl in the open spaces of the Front Range that sweep up to the foothills and the towering snow-capped mountains.  But these howls were coming from the wrong direction. They were echoing from the streets of our neighborhood.

 What we were hearing was a phenomenon that swept our nation during Covid.  People emerged from their “stay at home” shelters at 8 PM in the evening and howled!  For some it was a protest, a way to “let off steam” from being cooped up and shut in. But for most it was a way of connecting with strangers and shouting support for those who continued working on the “front lines” of the coronavirus crisis. 

 The next day this message appeared in our neighborhood blog: “I work in the Emergency Department for UC Health.  … Last night as I parked in our garage, I heard a riot of howls from around our neighborhood … I want each of you howlers to know that your support helped lift the tired heart and soul of someone who somedays wonders if what I did was enough.  Last night it brought a tear to my eyes and a big lump in my throat.  It is a pleasure to be your neighbor, and an honor to help support our community.” 

 Covid taught us to stick together, encourage one another and care for our neighbor.  During these confusing days of 2025, we need to remember that lesson.  Last night I went outside after dark to put out our trash.  While standing in the driveway, an Amazon van pulled up and stopped.  A young woman came bouncing out and handed me a package my wife had ordered. I thanked her for doing her job and making the delivery. She gushed her thanks.

 While she made a few more stops at the end of our cul-de-sac, my neighbors across the street called my name.  Their 2-year-old daughter knows me.  When the Amazon driver stopped again across the street, I urged them to join me, all 5 of them: the 2-year-old, her mother, grandmother, grandfather and their snow-white bulldog, Rooney.  We gathered around as she returned from our neighbor’s porch.  I told her we were a “committee” from the neighborhood to thank her for delivering our packages. She melted in appreciation and said we made her day.

 During these trying times, countless people continue going about their jobs: making deliveries, serving fast food, stocking the stores, hauling off our trash, repairing our streets, keeping the wheels turning.  Thousands of government workers showed up for two months without pay. The one thing we all can do every day in every circumstance is encourage each other.

 We need to heed the instruction of Scripture: “Therefore encourage one another and build up one another, just as you are doing” (1 Thess. 5:11).  “Now may the God who gives perseverance and encouragement grant you to be of the same mind with one another according to Christ Jesus” (Romans 15:5).

If You Believe

 A scientist placed a number of fleas in a jar and they immediately jumped out. He then placed a clear glass plate over the top of the jar.  The fleas continued to jump, smashing their heads into the invisible barrier.  They kept this up for some time, jumping with all their might, crashing into the glass and falling back.  They slowly adjusted the height of their jump to avoid crashing into the invisible lid.  The scientist then removed the glass lid, and the fleas remained in the jar, jumping just short of where the lid had been, unable to clear the lip of the jar and escape.

 The jumping fleas are a parable of how we adjust our expectations.  Like the fleas, we become conditioned to limitations imposed by others and, sometimes, imposed by ourselves.  We no longer try to extend beyond the comfort of what we have done before and we remain trapped by traditions and learned behavior.

 Wilbur and Orville Wright were sons of an itinerant preacher, a Bishop in the United Brethren Church. Like their father, they were gentlemen who neither smoked, drank nor gambled.  But they learned to dream.

 When the Wright brothers arrived at Kitty Hawk, NC, they found an almost deserted island with constant winds, lots of sand and about fifty homes, mostly occupied by descendants of shipwrecked sailors.  The residents wore hand sewn clothes and lived in homes with scarce furniture and bare floors scrubbed white with sand.

 Wilbur boarded with the William Tate family and set to work assembling his “darn fool contraption,” as the locals called it.  Tate later said, “We believed in God, a bad Devil and a hot Hell, and more than anything else we believed that same God did not intend man should ever fly.” 

 The Wright brothers became fast friends with the Tate family and the outer banks people, who helped them immensely. Within 3 years, on December 17, 1903, the Wright brothers lifted into the air. Six years later,   Orville Wright circled the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor and the Wright plane flew over the Eifel Tower in Paris. Aviation was born.  The world has never been the same.

 Jesus was constantly urging his disciples to think beyond their limited expectations.  Often He referred to the twelve disciples as “you of little faith.”  He challenged them, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.”  (Matthew 17:20).

 Jesus chose twelve of the most unlikely men to follow Him.  They were common fishermen, common laborers and a tax collector. Without Jesus they would have lived out their lives in their small villages unnoticed.  History would have taken no note.  But Jesus taught them to believe beyond the limitations of their day.   Armed with faith, confident in the power that raised Jesus from the dead, they turned the world upside down and changed the course of human history.

 “Nothing,” Jesus said, “is impossible with God.” 

Halloween

 Next Friday miniature ghosts, goblins and superheroes will emerge at dusk to comb the streets in search of candy.  It is a long tradition in America, one I grew up with as a child and one I enjoyed as a parent. It is, perhaps, one of the few traditions we still celebrate outside with our neighbors. Manicured lawns are transformed into a mystical world of floating cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns and tombstones.

 Watchful parents huddle at the curb and visit while their little ghouls cheerfully threaten their neighbors with tricks for treats. Expectant children hold open hopeful bags and peer into their dark recesses trying to determine what luck they might have had at the door. 

 I always enjoyed taking our kids trick-or-treating. We had fun dressing them up and entering, at least for a night, into their fantasy world.  I liked watching them celebrate their growing assortment of candy gathered from well-wishing neighbors, until a costumed spook jumped from the bushes and convinced our five year old he had enough candy for one night. 

 I still look forward to answering our door bell on Halloween.  I enjoy trying to guess who is hiding behind the princess mask, what little boy is growling in the Ninja Turtle costume.  I like it when ET and Yoda drop by for a visit with their pet ghost-dog. They are polite ghosts and witches and extra-terrestrials. They almost always say, “Thank you.” 

 

Halloween, of course, has its dark side. Our nightly news reports of abducted children and maps dotted with sexual predators have erased the naïve world of Halloween past.  We are more aware that we live in a dangerous world where evil is real and present.   

 

Many churches are more than a little uncomfortable with Halloween.  On the one hand, it is enjoyable to celebrate community with imagination, fantasy and neighborly generosity.   On the other hand, there are demonic and destructive forces at work in the world that kill and destroy.  It is one thing to celebrate fall and indulge in imagination.  It is another to celebrate the occult, witchcraft, the devil and demons.

 Many struggle with addictions and impulses they seem unable to control.  They find themselves on a collision course with destruction.  Our world needs deliverance from evil.

 Jesus once met a man filled with destructive demons.  He lived among the tombs of the dead, often cutting himself with sharp stones.  Local citizens tried to control him by putting him in chains, but he broke the chains and escaped back to his home among the graves.  When Jesus ordered the demons that were destroying the man to leave him the demons entered a nearby herd of swine that immediately rushed into the sea and were drowned.  The man was healed.  When his neighbors found him, he was in his right mind, sitting with Jesus, no longer a threat to himself or to them. But it scared them. They asked Jesus to leave their country and not to come back.  (Mark 5:1-20). Forces that we cannot understand or control always scare us.

 This Halloween we will celebrate an occasion to enjoy our children and their imagination. We will celebrate the turning leaves, dry corn, pumpkins and harvest. And we will celebrate that we have a deliverer who can conquer evil in our hearts and in the world.

Celebrities and Mortality

The list of celebrities who have died this year is growing long.  February 18 Gene Hackman died in his New Mexico home.   April 1, Val Kilmer died.  August 7, astronaut James Lovell, commander of Apollo 13; September 16, Robert Redford died peacefully at his home in Utah. And October 11, Diane Keaton succumbed to pneumonia in Santa Monica.

 

Somehow we don’t think of celebrities as mortal.  Their images on the screen make them bigger than life:  Popeye Doyle in The French Connection, Little Bill in Unforgiven; Doc Holiday in Tombstone; Tom Hanks portrayal of Lovell in Apollo 13; the Sundance Kid, Roy Hobbs in The Natural; Louise Bryant in Reds, Nina Banks in Father of the Bride.Their cinema performances made them seen immortal.  But, they weren’t.    

 

The truth of Scripture appears stark.  “The days of our lives are but 70 years, or if by strength, 80, for soon they are gone and we fly away,” (Psalm 90).  “For the Lord God knows our estate that we are but dust.  For man is like the grass of the field that flourishes as a flower, and after the wind passes it is no more and its place remembers it no longer,”(Psalm 103).     

 

My grandchildren have no recognition or remembrance of some of the icons who shaped the world in my youth.  Paul Newman. (Did he have something to do with coffee?)  Kirk Douglas, Burt Lancaster, Ricky Nelson, Annette Funicello.  I’m not sure they even know who John Wayne was.  “… After the wind blows …”

 There is One who lived who remains. James Allen Francis captured his significance in a sermon in 1926: "He was born in an obscure village, a child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another obscure village where he worked in a carpenter shop until he was thirty.  Then for three years he was an itinerant preacher.  He never had a family.  Or owned a home. He never set foot inside a big city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place he was born.  He never wrote a book or held an office.  He did none of the things that usually accompany greatness. While he was still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against him.  His friends deserted him.

“He was turned over to his enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves.  While he was dying his executioners gambled for the only piece of property he had, his coat. When he was dead, he was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave.  Nineteen centuries have come and gone and today he is still the central figure for much of the human race. All the armies that ever marched, All the navies that ever sailed and all the parliaments that ever sat and all the kings that ever reigned put together
have not affect the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as this One Solitary Life.

 Job asked the question, “If a man die, shall he live again?”  After a long ordeal of sorrow, disappointment, doubt and despair he arrived at his answer, “Yet as for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last, He will take His stand on the earth.  Even after my skin is destroyed, yet from my flesh I will see God, whom I, on my part, shall behold for myself, and whom my eyes will see, and not another,” (Job 19:25-27).

Practicing Kindness and Compassion

 I like to read. Always have. As a kid I rode my bike to our local library with my friends to browse and check out books. When I met my wife, we spent our evenings together in the library at Baylor University and, across the years, libraries have remained one of our favorite places to visit on our “dates.”

  Once in awhile, a book sticks with me. Same Kind of Different as Me is one of those books that stuck. Based on a true story, the book was made into a movie in 2017 starring Renee Zellweger.

Same Kind of Different As Me is two stories. One, the story of an illiterate black man named Denver who was raised in the cotton fields of Louisiana and ended up homeless on the streets of Fort Worth. The other, an upwardly mobile white man named Ron Hall who graduated from TCU and made a fortune in the art world. They each tell their story, and the remarkable intersection of their journeys.

Maybe I was drawn to the book because Ron Hall spent his childhood summers on a farm near my boyhood home of Corsicana. His descriptions of Corsicana resonated with my memories growing up on Collin Street, one of the signature brick streets that reflect the glory days when the city boasted more millionaires per capita than any other town in Texas. Maybe I was drawn to the book because Ron and Denver intersect in the slums of Fort Worth east of downtown where my wife started her teaching career fifty years ago.

But the true stories of Ron Hall and Denver Moore are not the main stories in the book. They represent other stories: the story of our country and its culture. Ron represents those who rise from middle class with professional opportunities that can lead to great wealth. He also represents the dangers of that path that include temptations for greed, materialism, shallow and broken relationships. Denver represents the alarmingly huge segment of our population that falls between the cracks, victims of prejudice, oppression, injustice and neglect. He also represents the dangers of that downward spiral that includes temptations of bitterness, anger, isolation and despair.

The greatest story underlying and connecting all of these is God’s story. Ron’s wife, Deborah is the entry point for His work, one person who was open, willing and obedient who became the catalyst for connecting these two broken men from different ends of the social spectrum.

In a day when many look to government to heal our wounds and solve our social problems, Same Kind of Different As Me serves as a reminder that the real solution to our personal and social problems lies within us. It is often buried beneath our own prejudices and fears, but it can be unlocked and released with the keys of acceptance, trust, faith and love, all the things Jesus demonstrated and talked about.

God wants to use each of us, whatever our race, whatever our circumstance, whatever our background to make a difference in the world. “Thus has the Lord of hosts said, ‘Dispense true justice, and practice kindness and compassion each to his brother; and do not oppress the widow or the orphan, the stranger or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another,” (Zechariah 7:8-10).