The Curse of the Cursed TV

I went to visit a woman in the hospital recently.

It would have been a very good visit, except she had the television on.

The cursed TV seems to attract my eyes like a magnet. I look away, only to find myself staring again a moment later. It's like magic, a kind of bondage. I try to break free and actually talk to the person I'm talking to, and I fail. (Women seem to do much better at this than men; they multitask better. I refuse to believe that means they're smarter--though it's possible)!

So, here I was at the hospital, talking to this dear woman I consider practically a sister, and repeatedly found myself staring at these guys in a shark cage while big sharks tried to eat them.

OK, I'll admit that was pretty heady stuff, but that wasn't why I was there!

What is it about television, anyway?

I look back in time, and see a group of men scratching themselves by the fire, and one of them begs the other, "Tell us a story!"

That's how it started. We all love to hear a story.

And now, thousands of years later, we men sit around a TV scratching ourselves, and say, "Tell us a story!"

Which would be okay, except for two things: How bad television is now, and how much time we waste.

We know all about the bad. I remember when comedies were actually funny ("I Love Lucy," "Andy Griffith," "The Jackie Gleason Show") and drama was intelligent and didn't depend on gun play, disgusting autopsies and explosions to keep you interested.

Now we have reality show players who "form alliances," betray each other and engage in drama as if they really don't know only one person is going to win.

But really, I'm actually glad television is so bad now (though I still gripe, don't get me wrong).

Television's lameness makes me less inclined to watch and more free to do other things. Except on those nights when I'm really exhausted (that's about every third night).

Sometimes I can even walk away from a television set! Though that took years of therapy.

I like this because I have wasted hundreds and hundreds of hours in front of a TV.

And I think one day Jesus might ask me why. And I won't have much of an answer.

Perhaps we should all spend less time watching people's pretend lives on television and live our real lives ourselves. Perhaps we should cheer less for sports teams who don't even know us and play ball with people who do. Perhaps we should use more of that TV time to read the Word, get to know Jesus together, talk with each other and laugh.

Maybe I should try that.

Since "Amazing Race" is between seasons anyway.

"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ" (I Cor. 10:31).

In Which my Ankle Resigns Without Notice

I love to hike.

I loved the idea ever since I discovered the famous novel, "The Lord of the Rings". After reading about Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee journeying across Middle Earth--well, it's something I have to do!

(And the movie--how I long for New Zealand!)

So I naturally dream of backpacking (that's where you carry all your gear on your back and venture far from roads). Something about being far from traffic, the conversation of neighbors in the "primitive camping" area, and children screaming hysterically because they can't eat the marshmallows first, attracts me.

But it's not only that. It's the silence of the woods. The wind sighing through 100 trees at the same time. And the ever-so-slightly scary feeling of being miles from any road or access to an ambulance.

I love it.

A preacher friend and I are planning a 24 mile hike along the Knobstone Trail in Southern Indiana.

And because I'll hiking with all my gear, far from a road, I want to be in the best physical shape possible. That means I have been working out--hard. Because the more agony now, the less agony on the trail, if you know what I mean.

So last week I was working out feverishly. My heart was pumping like a car engine when you floor it. My lungs were screaming, "Kill us! Just kill us now!" It was all good, proper and right.

Then the tendons in my right ankle resigned. That's right. They just quit. No notice. No severance pay. No referrals to better tendons that can replace them.

[Insert howl of raging frustration]

Because without those tendons in great shape, I can't carry gear on my back. I can't even walk, really, except to and from a sissy automobile.

Panicking, in great internal distress, I rushed to the doctor.

"My ankle will be all right before the hike, won't it?" I pleaded. "After all, I have three weeks [this in a hopeful, whiny tone]."

My doctor said, "Rest your ankle for two weeks. Keep it elevated, take ibuprofin and put it on ice."

Uh, doctor--that's not a promise that my ankle will be all right in three weeks...

And not only that, the now-mandatory rest to heal my ankle almost guarantees I will be in hyper-pathetic shape by the time the hike occurs.

(Remember the children's story about the little locomotive that puffs, "I think I can I think I can..." all the way up the hill? Now multiply that by each of the 10,000 hills on the Knobstone Trail).

I'll be wishing I was dead! Longing for death. Dreaming of it!

I can just hear myself, lying in a heap by the side of the trail--hungry wolves lurking, telling my hiking partner, "Leave me! Just leave me here! Save yourself!"

So this, I guess, is a good time to remember that God is in control. That he can heal, and it's time to trust him. So that's what I'm going to do. I know that I can make this hike with his help.

Pray for me!

Loudmouth Preacher Blows Off

This morning I drove into a church parking lot for pastor's prayer.

Each Tuesday morning many of the pastors in our town meet and pray for each other, the salvation of multitudes in our area (still waiting for that one) and the salvation of our nation (definitely not seeing that yet--but we aren't giving up)!

And as I drove into the parking lot, I maneuvered my car exactly equidistant from each of the white lines in my parking space.

That's pretty funny.

Here I am, driving the only car in the entire lot (except the host pastor's) and I have to make sure I'm exactly lined up between the white lines. I mean--I could have parked it sideways or across four parking spaces and who would have cared? At most there would have been 9 more cars and we had the whole parking lot.

Ever avoid the "handicapped" space in an empty parking lot? I have.

Funny how we try so hard to be good.

Funny how little we make it.

I was at my favorite hangout in North Manchester, Zooks, and a preacher friend called me. We've been close for years and meet about every two weeks for Chinese food (love the stuff).


Luckily I was alone.

As I talked to this friend I drifted into a "preacher rant" and started complaining about people--until the moment God "opened my eyes."  (If you are a Bible reader, you'll find moments when God hides things from somebody, then-- "He opened their eyes...").

This was one of those moments.

God let me hear myself, in the middle of Zooks, complaining about people. Worse yet, I'd spent the weekend with my parents, whose hearing isn't so good, so I was TALKING MUCH LOUDER AS I COMPLAINED ABOUT PEOPLE IN THE MIDDLE OF A RESTAURANT!!

I can just see the headlines: "Loudmouth Preacher Blows Off About People in Public; Congregation Shakes Heads in Disappointment."

I'm glad nobody was around to write that one!

I tried to "fix" it, of course--backpedaling with compliments, but it was far, far too late.

I try so hard to be good, and then I blow it.

Aren't you glad Jesus didn't just come for "good" people, but for people like me--and you?

Jesus said, "I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners" (Matthew 9:13 NLT).

Whew! Thanks, Jesus!

A Dialogue in the Conflicted Mind of Kelly Beutler

A dialogue between Kelly Beutler and Jesus Christ as he watches Olympic Beach Volleyball:

Kelly: Wow! Those perfectly fit women are hardly wearing anything!

Jesus Christ: Those women are hardly wearing anything.

Kelly: Yeah, Jesus, but...look! Those girls are wearing shirts!

Jesus: They aren't wearing any pants.

Kelly (every cell in his body straining to watch): I can't be watching this.

Jesus: You can't be watching this.

Kelly (stalling for time): Well...I'll leave the room and come back...

Jesus: You don't need to come back.

Kelly: But I might miss something good!

Jesus: It's not that important.

Kelly (still stalling): Yeah, but look at their technique! Their skill!

Jesus: You know this is wrong. I said so.

Kelly (to himself):  Well, it's not like Jesus is really here.

Jesus: I'm really here.

Kelly: Ohhhh kaaaayyyyy, I'll leave and watch again tomorrow. Maybe that skiing shooting kinda thing will be on.

Jesus (sighing): Kelly, that's a WINTER sport.

Gorwing Up

I remember when I was 15 years old.

(Stop LAUGHING!! I can remember that far back!)

Anyway--I was 15 years old, and every single cell in my body was stretching toward adulthood. Yearning for it. Straining like an overextended bungee cord.

I wanted to drive.

That was the main thing. I knew 15 wouldn't make me financially independent, free from parental authority or suddenly rich. But I also knew that I could do that magic thing called "driving!"

I couldn't wait.

But I had to. I waited and waited and waited.

No matter how much I wished it, 16 would not come for a year.

Now I am 57, and I've stopped growing up. One could even say I'm growing down. You know...the fatigue where there used to be energy, the mysterious bumps and age spots breaking out on my face (when I was a teenager, it was forests of zits...now it's age spots. Hoo boy)!


And of course, the expanding waist line.

I am planning a short backpacking trip, so I dug my big plastic gear container out of the basement clutter, huffed it upstairs and dumped it on the carpet. One of the things I did was try my two backpacks on.

Yep, backpacks never lie. They have big, solid straps and buckles. They're made not to slip, and they don't!

So my horrifically accurate backpack straps showed me now much weight I have gained.

Mercilessly.

To be fair, I have gained muscle in my shoulders and chest too...but somehow that doesn't make it any better.

I don't want to grow down; I want to grow up--spiritually.

You know, those dreams you have as a Christian: "I'm gonna pray four hours every day and have ecstatic experiences with God!" Or, "I'm gonna fast every week until I have a breakthrough!" Or, "I'm gonna memorize the entire book of First John because it's so neat!"

Growing up. I tried to do some of those things (well, all of them). And it was always a bust.

Result: Living life very disappointed in myself.

But God showed me recently that I can't grow up. None of us can.

John the Baptist, when told that "everybody" was going to Jesus instead of him, said, "A man can receive only what is given him from heaven" (John 3:27). Not more.

Just like the 15 year old who wants to be 16 so he can drive, there's no way to rush that process.

None of us can physically grow up faster. And our spiritual lives are much the same.

I don't mean we should abandon the spiritual disciplines, like reading the Bible and praying. Even 10 year olds have to brush their teeth, comb their hair, eat right and exercise.

I mean we should stop stressing about how far we've come in the Christian life. Or more accurately, how far we haven't come yet.

I see Christians who are beating themselves up. Because they aren't preachers. Or they don't share their faith enough. Or read the entire Bible every year.

And God yawns. Then he says, "You're 12. Why are you trying to be 35?"

As God showed me this, it brought me tremendous peace.

I thought, "I don't have to grow up! I can just be a kid and love Jesus!"

Because we're all kids.

You know about Jesus and kids, right?  Mothers were bringing their toddlers so Jesus could hold them and bless them. The disciples got mad about this waste of time. So they began shooing those women off. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it" (Mark 10:14-15).

Did Jesus really mean that? Maybe we Christians need to think about this more. Because I certainly have been guilty of thinking I need to kick it in gear, grow up and earn more points for God. After all, that's what makes us valuable to him, right?

Yet when I think of the times in my life when I had major spiritual growth, they were all God's idea...in fact, I was hardly conscious of trying at all. God moved in my heart and I responded. It was as simple as that.

Let's all stop trying to grow up. Instead, let's love Jesus like crazy and live that joy every day.

Gas Station Poverty

Were you ever too smart for your own good?

We all are...sometimes. Me more than others.

I was doing yard work Saturday and, knowing the heat would make my jeans feel like 10 kilos, decided to lighten them up. So I kept only my cellphone (necessary--like a heart pacemaker) and my keys.

And then I decided to mow the lawn. I found I was out of gas, of course. So, jumping into my little Saturn (the Silver Bullet) I went to the little Roann gas station with my red gas can. And found that I had no wallet. I had left it on the dresser. To lighten my jeans up.

So, at the pump, with the gas can ready, I have nothing to pay with. No cash, no card, nothing but my good looks. Which, even when I was younger, weren't worth much.

Happily I had my cell phone (necessary as a pacemaker). So I called Paul and asked him to bring my wallet. After I did so, a man on a moped pulled up.

I said, "You go first. I didn't bring my wallet and have to wait for it."

He said, "Here's some money. Get your gas," and handed me a ten dollar bill before I could refuse it.

I said, "No, my son is coming with some money. But thanks anyway," handing the money back.

He said, "No, it's okay, just get your gas!" 

Now, just to remind you, gas isn't cheap any more. It would take almost ten bucks to fill my little gas can. And this guy is begging me to take it!

As we talked a couple pulled up in a Jeep. I said, "You go ahead, I don't have any money, but my son is bringing some."

The young driver said, "Do you need money for gas?"

I said, "No, thanks, my son will be here soon with some money."

Now I have two people at the Roann gas station begging to give me money!

Partly to get away from these unbelievably friendly people, I walked to the road and began looking out for Paul's car.

The guy in the Jeep pulled up beside me on his way out. "Can I take you somewhere?"

Suddenly--with actual relief in the face of all this aid, I saw Paul's green Taurus.

"No, there's Paul's car!  He's coming now!" I said. "God bless you!"

I don't know if those two guys were Christians. I hope they were--they sure acted like it.

This taught me one thing: When a man filled with hate shoots up a movie theatre, remember there are good people in the world, and love still happens, and God is still on his throne.

Praise God!!

"When the foundations [of society and good] are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?
The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord is on his heavenly throne."  Psalm 11:3-4

"What's Happening to People?"

The same wonder seems to be with everyone: How could a man booby-trap his apartment, weigh himself down with weapons, and go into a crowded movie theatre with the sole purpose of killing as many people as he can?
People he doesn't even know--that he could have no reasonable grudge against?

What's happening to people, anyway?


I'm a preacher and we're supposed to have all the awnsers (an urban myth). But I do have some that I can share with you in the hope that it will help.

The downward path of our society is easily traceable. One writer on this tragedy spoke of recent mass killings and said, "I'm 60 and nothing like this has happened in my or my parents' generation."

I agree.

We have been nervous about terrorists here since 9/11--but America seems to be creating its own terrorists!

Gangs in Chicago are killing so many, including children, that the mayor had to make an appeal to values (I appreciate the effort, but I doubt it did any good). Like the chaos in Mexico, these crimes are financed by the drugs Americans casually use.

Crimes against women, including rape and murder, continue to climb as a pornography industry worth billions continues to twist what men see as normal sexual behavior.

Where did all this come from? The Colorado shooter said he wanted to be "the Joker." Are movies the problem?

The body count in action movies soars as movie makers look for ever more lurid thrills to bring in millions. "Action heroes," seemingly without natural fear (or personality either!) march across screens with guns blazing. Movies and television shows (which frequently feature autopsies) portray psychotic killers with absolutely no human compassion or regret.  These killers seem to be having fun--they play "games" with police--and show no fear when captured.


The Batman movies are so dark that one actor, playing the Joker, committed suicide.

Is is possible for movies to be too dark? I believe it is.

But can movies really cause us to kill? I remember attending a Clint Eastwood double feature with a friend when I was a teenager. When I left the theatre, I was ready to fight somebody. The feeling lasted for about five minutes. Then I was normal me again.

People blame guns and the ease of buying assault rifles and pistols with high-capacity magazines. This certainly makes it easier to kill...but does it make people kill?

Other people blame poverty, the lack of opportunity to build a decent life. But this shooter--and others--have had every educational and social door open to them.

And the Colorado shooter still chose to be "the Joker."

There must be a deeper reason, right? Most people seem to know that. The phrase I hear most often is, "What's happening to people?"

As a Christian, I am not asking that question. In fact, many Christians who have what Charles Colson called "a Christian worldview" are not asking.

We know.

God makes it clear in the scriptures that as we near the time of Jesus' return, the restraints that hold people back from savagery will dissolve.
The apostle Paul prophesied about this in a letter to his protege Timothy. He wrote, "But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days [before Jesus' return]. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness [they show up at church sometimes] but deny it's power [to change their lives]. Have nothing to do with them" (2 Timothy 3:1-5, emphasis mine).

Many overlook that fact that Paul wasn't talking about his own time! Most people would consider Paul's time--the time of ancient Rome--pretty brutal. But Paul was talking about a later time, when the love of God is rejected by this world.

Paul also warned, "for the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine [the teachings of Christianity]. Instead, so suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear" (2 Timothy 4:3).

Many now teach that "good" and "evil" are relative terms, and that one person has no right to tell another what is "evil." This politically correct thinking paves the way for people to create their own morality--as sick as that might be.

Jesus said, as he talked about the last days before his return to earth (the event we call "the rapture"),
"Because of the increase in wickedness, the love of most [for God, for people] will grow cold, but he who stands firm [loving Jesus] to the end will be saved" (Matthew 24:13).

How can you possibly love people when you have no connection with the God who is love?

The apostle John in a vision given him by Jesus, saw the end result: "When the Lamb [the crucified and risen Christ] opened the second seal I heard the second living creature say, 'Come!' Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. To him was given a large sword" (Revelation 6:6, emphasis mine).

Is it possible that this horseman is already beginning his ride?

I believe it is.

What can we do?

First, make sure your life is connected with Jesus Christ. Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father but by me" (John 14:6).

Second, remember that as this nation rejects God's help, God will pull back until we call on him. Only when we call on God will he come to our aid and heal this country (2 Chronicles 7:14). Until then, we can expect to be "on our own" as people nurse grudges to the point of mass murder. And there's not enough security in the world to stop that.

Third, develop what Charles Colson called "a Christian worldview." Read your Bible and understand how God deals with nations that reject him, and those that embrace him.

Last, pray for the victims of this tragedy. Your prayers can give them peace beyond their understanding and reassure them they they will be united with Christian loved ones again--in a place called "the kingdom of God." In that place there will "...be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21:4).