I never thought about it, but the King James translation of Genesis 1:26 says, “Let us make MAN in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.”
Every Bible-reading male in the English speaking world must love this declaration of his God-given authority.
However, the Hebrew word for man is ʹâdâm, which means “human being, an individual [of the species], a person.” A more accurate translation of Genesis 1:26 is found in NLT. “Let us make HUMAN BEINGS in our image, to be like us.” Let MEN AND WOMEN have dominion over fish and fowl, etc.
The King James translation communicates a subtle English language bias that all of us are familiar with. And honestly, it seldom bothers me. I certainly don’t want to rage about it or blame it for all the challenges women face. I don’t want to suggest that Genesis 1:26 cancels that prickly New Testament word, submission. However, I realized something fairly significant today.
The Creator of the universe cares about translations, word choices, and biases. He is concerned about secular ideas that have seeped into Christian societies. He values women; they bear the stamp of His image, same as men. And He is an advocate for women who have been undervalued and suppressed.
A certain disdain of women has crept into religious thought, and it is of greater concern to the Creator than I realized.
Of course, God wants women who have been mistreated by overbearing, self-righteous men to forgive. But …
For the benefit of those who have been disrespected and suppressed, He desires to set the record straight. Pagan men often dominate women, relegating them to subservient social roles. Unrighteous men rule with an iron fist. However, the Creator of the universe did not instruct human societies to operate this way. Lord God exalts women, and He is never pleased with those who demean or belittle them.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Movie reviews
Becoming Jane (2007)
For those who like Pride and Prejudice, an emergency substitute
At first, I thought the movie was uninspired--a pale repetition of Pride and Prejudice. And it never sizzled, but it grew on me. In fact, the weather outside being frightful, I watched it a second time. Anne Hathaway never convinced me that she was Jane Austen, but James McAvoy as Tom Lefroy was enjoyable, and I liked James Cromwell and Julie Walters as Austen's parents. I wonder if the biographical elements are accurate. Here's hoping that Jane and Cassandra Austen ran into fewer moral and social impasses than this movie suggests.
Stroszek (1977)
Stroszek and ambivalence
Director Werner Herzog acknowledges ambivalence toward America, and in Stoszek, his ambivalence is obvious. Herzog films Plainfield, WI, and he focuses on railroad tracks, truck stops, junk yards, unpaved parking lots, treeless fields, and poorly kept mobile homes. Depressing! No wonder the main characters, German immigrants, become disillusioned with "get rich quick" America. No getting rich in Plainfield. And Cherokee, North Carolina, fares no better. Its cheesiest tourist traps dominate the last few minutes of the film. But Herzog features Bruno S., son of a German prostitute. Bruno's mother did not want him, so he was institutionalized when he was three years old. He spent years in asylums and survived with obvious quirks. In Stroszek, he more or less plays himself. His reactions to Stroszek's colorful characters, including locals, criminals, a prostitute, and a few feathered friends, are the highlights of the film.
Shall We Dance? (1995)
Pleasant surprise
Hard working, straight laced Japanese businessman, brought up in a culture that rewards conformity and frowns on ballroom dance, takes an unexpected step. He falls in love with dancing, but since it is stigmatized in his society, he keeps his passion to himself. His wife suspects an affair, so she hires a private detective, and he is drawn into ballroom dancing, too. Meantime, the businessman's colleague, bumbling accountant by day, becomes a rumba king at night. My expectations were fairly low, so I was pleasantly surprised by this subtle, graceful movie, which has complex characters and enjoyable plot. No wonder Shall We Dance won awards. It turned my evening into a sparkling success; it gets five stars from me.
For those who like Pride and Prejudice, an emergency substitute
At first, I thought the movie was uninspired--a pale repetition of Pride and Prejudice. And it never sizzled, but it grew on me. In fact, the weather outside being frightful, I watched it a second time. Anne Hathaway never convinced me that she was Jane Austen, but James McAvoy as Tom Lefroy was enjoyable, and I liked James Cromwell and Julie Walters as Austen's parents. I wonder if the biographical elements are accurate. Here's hoping that Jane and Cassandra Austen ran into fewer moral and social impasses than this movie suggests.
Stroszek (1977)
Stroszek and ambivalence
Director Werner Herzog acknowledges ambivalence toward America, and in Stoszek, his ambivalence is obvious. Herzog films Plainfield, WI, and he focuses on railroad tracks, truck stops, junk yards, unpaved parking lots, treeless fields, and poorly kept mobile homes. Depressing! No wonder the main characters, German immigrants, become disillusioned with "get rich quick" America. No getting rich in Plainfield. And Cherokee, North Carolina, fares no better. Its cheesiest tourist traps dominate the last few minutes of the film. But Herzog features Bruno S., son of a German prostitute. Bruno's mother did not want him, so he was institutionalized when he was three years old. He spent years in asylums and survived with obvious quirks. In Stroszek, he more or less plays himself. His reactions to Stroszek's colorful characters, including locals, criminals, a prostitute, and a few feathered friends, are the highlights of the film.
Shall We Dance? (1995)
Pleasant surprise
Hard working, straight laced Japanese businessman, brought up in a culture that rewards conformity and frowns on ballroom dance, takes an unexpected step. He falls in love with dancing, but since it is stigmatized in his society, he keeps his passion to himself. His wife suspects an affair, so she hires a private detective, and he is drawn into ballroom dancing, too. Meantime, the businessman's colleague, bumbling accountant by day, becomes a rumba king at night. My expectations were fairly low, so I was pleasantly surprised by this subtle, graceful movie, which has complex characters and enjoyable plot. No wonder Shall We Dance won awards. It turned my evening into a sparkling success; it gets five stars from me.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
The most beautiful street in America
I was reading the first chapter of The Education of Henry Adams and became curious about the author's neighborhood--Boston's historic Beacon Hill. Adams, great-grandson of John Adams and grandson of John Quincy Adams, grew up at 57 Mount Vernon Street, and fellow author Henry James says that Mount Vernon Street is the most beautiful street in America.
Adams says that his social advantages were an eighteenth century creation that became an irksome handicap in twentieth century America, but I think that I could bear the irksome consequence of living on Mount Vernon Street.
Beacon Hill is still stylish and desirable, but it is expensive. Current residents include Senator John Kerry and former GE CEO Jack Welch. Apparently, Adams's childhood home has been converted to condominiums, and one sold for $634,000 in 2004.
Okay. Mount Vernon Street is a bit beyond my price range. But I have added the following travel plan to my list of things to do: Go to Boston. Walk through Beacon Hill. Stop at 57 Mount Vernon Street and STARE.
Adams says that his social advantages were an eighteenth century creation that became an irksome handicap in twentieth century America, but I think that I could bear the irksome consequence of living on Mount Vernon Street.
Beacon Hill is still stylish and desirable, but it is expensive. Current residents include Senator John Kerry and former GE CEO Jack Welch. Apparently, Adams's childhood home has been converted to condominiums, and one sold for $634,000 in 2004.
Okay. Mount Vernon Street is a bit beyond my price range. But I have added the following travel plan to my list of things to do: Go to Boston. Walk through Beacon Hill. Stop at 57 Mount Vernon Street and STARE.
Friday, March 27, 2009
News article--published--International red tape can hamper adoption
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In March 2009, I wrote a news article about Russian adoption for Minnesota Christian Chronicle.
The article is posted at the newspaper's web site, I think.
I have written four news articles for MCC.
International red tape can hamper adoption
by Jeannette Murdock Corn
STILLWATER—Eight-year-old Vitaly Brown lives with his parents and three older siblings in a cheerful yellow house in Stillwater, Minn. Most days, horses graze in the pasture and kittens play on the porch. The family’s terrier, Dallas, sleeps in a corner of the living room while Vitaly completes school with Cathy Brown, his mom.
Vitaly smiles broadly, exposing permanent teeth that are coming in on top. In fluent English, he talks about sleepovers, family trips, and friends. He has been in the U.S. for three years and looks like a typical American boy; but when asked if he remembers Russia, he nods. He recalls the red trucks and house fire on the night his birth mother died, and he remembers the orphanage.
“What do you remember most?” Vitaly’s thirteen-year-old sister Jennifer asks.
“Soup, soup, soup,” Vitaly says, rolling his eyes. “In the orphanage, it’s all we ever ate.”
Cathy Brown describes the orphans’ home as old but “not dirty,” with sunny rooms and yellow walls—a throwback to the 1950s. Run by the Russian government, it housed 75 children.
Brown remembers Vitaly as a little guy who tugged at her heart. She and her husband, Gary, had been praying about adoption for several years and had considered other children, but when they saw a video of four-year-old Vitaly, they knew that “he was the one.”
The Browns adopted Vitaly through Plymouth-based European Children Adoption Services (ECAS) in a process that took 12 months.
The adoption required “awful” amounts of paper work, extensive medical exams, and an inspection of the Browns’ home. The adoption cost $33,000, including a $7,000 loan.
Nevertheless, Gary and Cathy Brown were determined to complete the process. “We had three children but knew we had room for one more,” Cathy explains. Realizing they could not help the entire world of homeless, needy children, the Browns decided to help “just one.”
The process
Carol Wahl manages the Eastern European adoption team at Children’s Home Society and Family Services (CHSFS), a St. Paul-based international adoption agency. She travels to Russia twice a year and says that it has good orphanages by international standards. In the United States, Russian adoptions peaked at 6,000 in 2004. In 2009, numbers are down, but Americans continue to adopt Russian children. Since Children’s Home Society began its work in Russia in 1994, 350 Minnesota families and 650 families across the U.S. have adopted Russian children through CHSFS.
The adoption process begins with an adoption study, sometimes called the home study, which is conducted by the adopting family’s home state. The study evaluates the adopting family and prepares them for adoption. The study includes home inspections, financial evaluations, medical examinations, and criminal background checks.
The second step is approval by the BCIS—the U.S. Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration.
When U.S. hurdles have been crossed, the adopting family prepares a dossier for Russian government agencies, and the dossier usually requires additional medical and background checks. Russian officials, for example, were concerned about the health of the Browns’ biological children, who were 14, 12, and 10 when Vitaly was adopted.
Russians think three children are “already a lot,” so they have a hard time understanding why a foreign family would want a fourth child, and they want to make sure the adopting family does not have a sick child who will take an organ, such as a kidney, from the Russian child.
The Browns were also required to photograph their home and provide educational details. “In Russia, education is key,” Cathy says.
The dossier is translated into Russian and reviewed by Russian courts. If it is approved, the American family receives a preliminary child referral, which means that Russian agencies send a photograph of an available Russian child and information about the child.
If the American family accepts the referral, the next step is a trip to Russia to meet and officially accept the child. This trip requires visas, passports, airline tickets, and hotel stays in Russia. If all goes well, it lasts three to five days. The adopting family signs official papers and comes home to await a court date.
Typically, families wait two to five months before making their second trip to Russia. The second trip lasts two to four weeks and often includes medical examinations in Russia. After officially adopting the child, the family must wait 10 days for a court hearing. The Browns were permitted to take Vitaly during their 10-day wait; it was a favor families do not always receive.
After the adopting family appears in Russian court, they travel to Moscow with the child for two or three days to obtain a visa, passport, and other official documents from the U.S. embassy. Since Russia is a large country, the distance from the city of adoption to Moscow can be significant.
Overall cost
The adoption process takes six to 18 months and is costly, with some families spending $35,000 to $45,000. Wahl says adopting families turn to various fundraising methods, including silent auctions and community garage sales.
American couples adopting from Russia do not usually have long-term problems with their children, but Russian orphans are exposed to numerous caregivers, and a few find it difficult to attach to adoptive families. “I’ve heard stories of other families having problems,” Brown says, “but Vitaly has lots of friends and is doing really well. I am grateful he adapted so well.”
Published by Minnesota Christian Chronicle — March 2009
Minnesota Christian Chronicle (763) 746-2468 • MCC is a part of the Christian Examiner Newspaper Group •
The article is posted at the newspaper's web site, I think.
I have written four news articles for MCC.
International red tape can hamper adoption
by Jeannette Murdock Corn
STILLWATER—Eight-year-old Vitaly Brown lives with his parents and three older siblings in a cheerful yellow house in Stillwater, Minn. Most days, horses graze in the pasture and kittens play on the porch. The family’s terrier, Dallas, sleeps in a corner of the living room while Vitaly completes school with Cathy Brown, his mom.
Vitaly smiles broadly, exposing permanent teeth that are coming in on top. In fluent English, he talks about sleepovers, family trips, and friends. He has been in the U.S. for three years and looks like a typical American boy; but when asked if he remembers Russia, he nods. He recalls the red trucks and house fire on the night his birth mother died, and he remembers the orphanage.
“What do you remember most?” Vitaly’s thirteen-year-old sister Jennifer asks.
“Soup, soup, soup,” Vitaly says, rolling his eyes. “In the orphanage, it’s all we ever ate.”
Cathy Brown describes the orphans’ home as old but “not dirty,” with sunny rooms and yellow walls—a throwback to the 1950s. Run by the Russian government, it housed 75 children.
Brown remembers Vitaly as a little guy who tugged at her heart. She and her husband, Gary, had been praying about adoption for several years and had considered other children, but when they saw a video of four-year-old Vitaly, they knew that “he was the one.”
The Browns adopted Vitaly through Plymouth-based European Children Adoption Services (ECAS) in a process that took 12 months.
The adoption required “awful” amounts of paper work, extensive medical exams, and an inspection of the Browns’ home. The adoption cost $33,000, including a $7,000 loan.
Nevertheless, Gary and Cathy Brown were determined to complete the process. “We had three children but knew we had room for one more,” Cathy explains. Realizing they could not help the entire world of homeless, needy children, the Browns decided to help “just one.”
The process
Carol Wahl manages the Eastern European adoption team at Children’s Home Society and Family Services (CHSFS), a St. Paul-based international adoption agency. She travels to Russia twice a year and says that it has good orphanages by international standards. In the United States, Russian adoptions peaked at 6,000 in 2004. In 2009, numbers are down, but Americans continue to adopt Russian children. Since Children’s Home Society began its work in Russia in 1994, 350 Minnesota families and 650 families across the U.S. have adopted Russian children through CHSFS.
The adoption process begins with an adoption study, sometimes called the home study, which is conducted by the adopting family’s home state. The study evaluates the adopting family and prepares them for adoption. The study includes home inspections, financial evaluations, medical examinations, and criminal background checks.
The second step is approval by the BCIS—the U.S. Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration.
When U.S. hurdles have been crossed, the adopting family prepares a dossier for Russian government agencies, and the dossier usually requires additional medical and background checks. Russian officials, for example, were concerned about the health of the Browns’ biological children, who were 14, 12, and 10 when Vitaly was adopted.
Russians think three children are “already a lot,” so they have a hard time understanding why a foreign family would want a fourth child, and they want to make sure the adopting family does not have a sick child who will take an organ, such as a kidney, from the Russian child.
The Browns were also required to photograph their home and provide educational details. “In Russia, education is key,” Cathy says.
The dossier is translated into Russian and reviewed by Russian courts. If it is approved, the American family receives a preliminary child referral, which means that Russian agencies send a photograph of an available Russian child and information about the child.
If the American family accepts the referral, the next step is a trip to Russia to meet and officially accept the child. This trip requires visas, passports, airline tickets, and hotel stays in Russia. If all goes well, it lasts three to five days. The adopting family signs official papers and comes home to await a court date.
Typically, families wait two to five months before making their second trip to Russia. The second trip lasts two to four weeks and often includes medical examinations in Russia. After officially adopting the child, the family must wait 10 days for a court hearing. The Browns were permitted to take Vitaly during their 10-day wait; it was a favor families do not always receive.
After the adopting family appears in Russian court, they travel to Moscow with the child for two or three days to obtain a visa, passport, and other official documents from the U.S. embassy. Since Russia is a large country, the distance from the city of adoption to Moscow can be significant.
Overall cost
The adoption process takes six to 18 months and is costly, with some families spending $35,000 to $45,000. Wahl says adopting families turn to various fundraising methods, including silent auctions and community garage sales.
American couples adopting from Russia do not usually have long-term problems with their children, but Russian orphans are exposed to numerous caregivers, and a few find it difficult to attach to adoptive families. “I’ve heard stories of other families having problems,” Brown says, “but Vitaly has lots of friends and is doing really well. I am grateful he adapted so well.”
Published by Minnesota Christian Chronicle — March 2009
Minnesota Christian Chronicle (763) 746-2468 • MCC is a part of the Christian Examiner Newspaper Group •
Magazine article--published--Seeking God's Kingdom
I had been practicing, practicing. For six months, I had been sending writing samples to my literary mentor, bombarding him with questions, and honing my skill. Now it was time for me to approach a publisher.
I bought Sally Stuart's Christian Writers' Market Guide, and after studying the guide for several days, I decided to give take-home papers a try. Eleven were listed; I can no longer remember why I narrowed my attention to Standard Publishing's weekly take-home, The Lookout.
I requested writer's guidelines and theme list from the publisher; in those days, information came by mail.
Then I obtained an out-of-date copy of Writer's Market, which is 2 1/4 inches thick and costs $29.99 at the bookstore. My copy had been discarded by Hennepin County's library system and was offered for free during a monthly meeting of Minnesota Christian Writers Guild. Writer's Market explained that anomaly, the query letter.
I selected a topic from Lookout's theme list, wrote a magazine article, composed a query letter, and sent everything to my literary mentor, who usually replied in five to ten days. A few hours later, my mentor replied.
"Send it, send it," he said.
My article was accepted for publication in March 2005, and it was published the following September. No trouble came during the submission process, but problems rolled in on the day the article appeared in print. On September 25, 2005, my husband lost his job.
Now, this was no ordinary job. It was a longstanding, six-figure job that, turns out, provided my emotional security. When no new job appeared, financial struggles began, and those struggles stole my peace and squeezed my writing mind. By January 2006, I was no longer writing.
I doubt that it was a coincidence--my husband's job loss coming on the day my writing career began.
I have lost my sparkle, no doubt. But in 2009, I am writing again.
Corn, Jeanette Murdock, “Seeking God’s Kingdom,” The Lookout 25 Sept. 2005: 4-5
Seeking God's Kingdom
Jeanette Murdock Corn
In the rocky wilderness of the Jordan Valley, John the Baptist traveled through the countryside preaching and baptizing. "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near," he said (Matthew 3:2).
Jesus came to the reed lined Jordan River to be baptized by John. As he journeyed along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, he repeated John’s words, saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near" (Matthew 4:17).
When he sent out his disciples, he told them to preach about the kingdom of Heaven, too.
The kingdom of Heaven was at the heart of Jesus’ teaching ministry. He said, "The Law and the Prophets were proclaimed until John. Since that time, the good news of the kingdom of God is being preached" (Luke 16:16).
The people who heard Jesus expected his kingdom to be an earthly system that would restore the throne of David to the nation of Israel. Today we understand that the kingdom of Heaven is an inner kingdom that rules the human heart.
The kingdom of God is the rule and reign of God, and Jesus came from Heaven with royal authority.
However, he did not come as an earthly ruler. His purpose was to extend his kingdom so that many people could be saved (John 3:17).
Jesus taught about his heavenly kingdom by using illustrations that explain the kingdom in simple, down-to-earth terms.
Like everything else we receive from God, the kingdom begins in the heart. But when properly received, it works its way into our outer lives as well.
A Treasure
Matthew 13:44 says, "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field." In fact, it’s a treasure chest that contains a generous supply of power, authority, righteousness, and the riches of God in Christ.
A man comes to the field and begins to dig, and when he finds the treasure, he recognizes its value and rejoices.
He reburies the treasure and hastens to sell everything he owns so he can buy the field. He makes these sacrifices because of his joy. I visualize this man opening the treasure chest, claiming ownership of his new possessions, and discovering that his treasures are greater and more numerous than they previously appeared to be.
The kingdom is also like a merchant who searches for pearls, according to Matthew 13:45.
I think about the man in the parable not as a shopkeeper or tradesman, but an astute international trader who travels great distances by land and sea, searching for the world’s finest commodities. Perhaps his journeys are often difficult and dangerous.
The merchant is accustomed to buying and selling fine pearls, but one day he finds a pearl of exceptional value. It is beautiful because of its purity. Determined to own the pearl, no matter what the cost, the merchant returns to his country and sells everything he owns so that he can purchase it.
Like hidden treasure or a flawless pearl, the kingdom of Heaven contains supreme beauty, purity, and significance. The Bible instructs us to desire it, think about it, and search for it diligently.
In fact, Matthew 6:33 says, "Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness." Pursuing the kingdom of God should be the most important business of our lives.
Yeast
In 1 Corinthians 5:8, Paul says that immorality is filthy and dangerous. He describes it as "the yeast of malice and wickedness."
"Get rid of the old yeast," Paul says. "Start over with new bread."
However, the kingdom of God is the opposite of filth, malice, and wickedness. Matthew 13:33 says it is like good yeast, or wholesome leavening.
The housewife makes bread by mixing a handful of yeast into a large amount of flour, and then she kneads the dough until the yeast has been incorporated into the mixture.
After the yeast is added to the dough, it ferments, releasing a wonderful aroma, penetrating the dough and changing it.
In a similar way the kingdom of God changes us. By working through us, it penetrates our society. Second Corinthians 2:14 says, "But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him."
A Sower
When Jesus returns, the world’s kingdoms will become God’s kingdom. In its present state, however, God’s earthly kingdom has a mixed character. The parable of the sower (Matthew 13:3-9) provides a picture of the kingdom in our present age.
The kingdom of God is like a farmer who sows seed. Inside this seed, in embryonic form, is heavenly life. If the seed takes root and grows, it produces God’s kind of life, which includes peace, contentment, and joy. The Holy Spirit scatters this seed into the soil of the human heart.
Sadly, some of the seed falls along the pathway where travelers have walked, compacting the soil. The seed stays on the surface of the hard ground and birds swoop down and snatch it away.
Trampled soil represents the person who hears the Word but doesn’t understand it. The seed doesn’t change his life or behavior because God’s kingdom doesn’t make sense to him, and Satan is able to steal the Word from his heart.
Other seed falls onto rocky places. It springs up in the thin soil but is unable to take root. When the scorching sun beams down, it withers.
This rocky soil is the person who eagerly receives God’s kingdom but doesn’t become rooted in it, so he endures for only a season. When he encounters pressure or persecution because of his faith, he loses heart and turns away from the kingdom of God.
Rich Soil
Some seed falls on good soil and begins to grow, but briars and thorns overrun the field and strangle the tender plant.
This soil represents the believer who begins well in the kingdom of God but later fades away.
Illness, marital problems, rebellious children, death of a parent, job loss, improper desire, loss of focus—when these troubles come, this person becomes fearful and distracted. His life is weakened by worries, lusts, and anxieties that choke out the kingdom of God.
However, some of the seed falls on fertile, well-tended ground and produces an abundant crop.
The fourth field represents the Christian who learns how to handle pressure and stay focused on the kingdom of God. He endures until blessings come. He is the only one of the four whose life produces good fruit. That life, of course, is the kind of life God wants us to live.
Jesus said, "My kingdom is not of this world" (John 18:36). The kingdom of God is a heavenly kingdom, and it is composed of heavenly material. However, the good news is that God’s kingdom is available to those who make Jesus their Lord.
It’s a command: "But seek first his kingdom" (Matthew 6:33) and a promise: "Seek and you will find" (Matthew 7:7). L
________________________________________
Jeanette Murdock Corn is a freelance writer in Oakdale, Minnesota.
.
I bought Sally Stuart's Christian Writers' Market Guide, and after studying the guide for several days, I decided to give take-home papers a try. Eleven were listed; I can no longer remember why I narrowed my attention to Standard Publishing's weekly take-home, The Lookout.
I requested writer's guidelines and theme list from the publisher; in those days, information came by mail.
Then I obtained an out-of-date copy of Writer's Market, which is 2 1/4 inches thick and costs $29.99 at the bookstore. My copy had been discarded by Hennepin County's library system and was offered for free during a monthly meeting of Minnesota Christian Writers Guild. Writer's Market explained that anomaly, the query letter.
I selected a topic from Lookout's theme list, wrote a magazine article, composed a query letter, and sent everything to my literary mentor, who usually replied in five to ten days. A few hours later, my mentor replied.
"Send it, send it," he said.
My article was accepted for publication in March 2005, and it was published the following September. No trouble came during the submission process, but problems rolled in on the day the article appeared in print. On September 25, 2005, my husband lost his job.
Now, this was no ordinary job. It was a longstanding, six-figure job that, turns out, provided my emotional security. When no new job appeared, financial struggles began, and those struggles stole my peace and squeezed my writing mind. By January 2006, I was no longer writing.
I doubt that it was a coincidence--my husband's job loss coming on the day my writing career began.
I have lost my sparkle, no doubt. But in 2009, I am writing again.
Corn, Jeanette Murdock, “Seeking God’s Kingdom,” The Lookout 25 Sept. 2005: 4-5
Seeking God's Kingdom
Jeanette Murdock Corn
In the rocky wilderness of the Jordan Valley, John the Baptist traveled through the countryside preaching and baptizing. "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near," he said (Matthew 3:2).
Jesus came to the reed lined Jordan River to be baptized by John. As he journeyed along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, he repeated John’s words, saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near" (Matthew 4:17).
When he sent out his disciples, he told them to preach about the kingdom of Heaven, too.
The kingdom of Heaven was at the heart of Jesus’ teaching ministry. He said, "The Law and the Prophets were proclaimed until John. Since that time, the good news of the kingdom of God is being preached" (Luke 16:16).
The people who heard Jesus expected his kingdom to be an earthly system that would restore the throne of David to the nation of Israel. Today we understand that the kingdom of Heaven is an inner kingdom that rules the human heart.
The kingdom of God is the rule and reign of God, and Jesus came from Heaven with royal authority.
However, he did not come as an earthly ruler. His purpose was to extend his kingdom so that many people could be saved (John 3:17).
Jesus taught about his heavenly kingdom by using illustrations that explain the kingdom in simple, down-to-earth terms.
Like everything else we receive from God, the kingdom begins in the heart. But when properly received, it works its way into our outer lives as well.
A Treasure
Matthew 13:44 says, "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field." In fact, it’s a treasure chest that contains a generous supply of power, authority, righteousness, and the riches of God in Christ.
A man comes to the field and begins to dig, and when he finds the treasure, he recognizes its value and rejoices.
He reburies the treasure and hastens to sell everything he owns so he can buy the field. He makes these sacrifices because of his joy. I visualize this man opening the treasure chest, claiming ownership of his new possessions, and discovering that his treasures are greater and more numerous than they previously appeared to be.
The kingdom is also like a merchant who searches for pearls, according to Matthew 13:45.
I think about the man in the parable not as a shopkeeper or tradesman, but an astute international trader who travels great distances by land and sea, searching for the world’s finest commodities. Perhaps his journeys are often difficult and dangerous.
The merchant is accustomed to buying and selling fine pearls, but one day he finds a pearl of exceptional value. It is beautiful because of its purity. Determined to own the pearl, no matter what the cost, the merchant returns to his country and sells everything he owns so that he can purchase it.
Like hidden treasure or a flawless pearl, the kingdom of Heaven contains supreme beauty, purity, and significance. The Bible instructs us to desire it, think about it, and search for it diligently.
In fact, Matthew 6:33 says, "Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness." Pursuing the kingdom of God should be the most important business of our lives.
Yeast
In 1 Corinthians 5:8, Paul says that immorality is filthy and dangerous. He describes it as "the yeast of malice and wickedness."
"Get rid of the old yeast," Paul says. "Start over with new bread."
However, the kingdom of God is the opposite of filth, malice, and wickedness. Matthew 13:33 says it is like good yeast, or wholesome leavening.
The housewife makes bread by mixing a handful of yeast into a large amount of flour, and then she kneads the dough until the yeast has been incorporated into the mixture.
After the yeast is added to the dough, it ferments, releasing a wonderful aroma, penetrating the dough and changing it.
In a similar way the kingdom of God changes us. By working through us, it penetrates our society. Second Corinthians 2:14 says, "But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him."
A Sower
When Jesus returns, the world’s kingdoms will become God’s kingdom. In its present state, however, God’s earthly kingdom has a mixed character. The parable of the sower (Matthew 13:3-9) provides a picture of the kingdom in our present age.
The kingdom of God is like a farmer who sows seed. Inside this seed, in embryonic form, is heavenly life. If the seed takes root and grows, it produces God’s kind of life, which includes peace, contentment, and joy. The Holy Spirit scatters this seed into the soil of the human heart.
Sadly, some of the seed falls along the pathway where travelers have walked, compacting the soil. The seed stays on the surface of the hard ground and birds swoop down and snatch it away.
Trampled soil represents the person who hears the Word but doesn’t understand it. The seed doesn’t change his life or behavior because God’s kingdom doesn’t make sense to him, and Satan is able to steal the Word from his heart.
Other seed falls onto rocky places. It springs up in the thin soil but is unable to take root. When the scorching sun beams down, it withers.
This rocky soil is the person who eagerly receives God’s kingdom but doesn’t become rooted in it, so he endures for only a season. When he encounters pressure or persecution because of his faith, he loses heart and turns away from the kingdom of God.
Rich Soil
Some seed falls on good soil and begins to grow, but briars and thorns overrun the field and strangle the tender plant.
This soil represents the believer who begins well in the kingdom of God but later fades away.
Illness, marital problems, rebellious children, death of a parent, job loss, improper desire, loss of focus—when these troubles come, this person becomes fearful and distracted. His life is weakened by worries, lusts, and anxieties that choke out the kingdom of God.
However, some of the seed falls on fertile, well-tended ground and produces an abundant crop.
The fourth field represents the Christian who learns how to handle pressure and stay focused on the kingdom of God. He endures until blessings come. He is the only one of the four whose life produces good fruit. That life, of course, is the kind of life God wants us to live.
Jesus said, "My kingdom is not of this world" (John 18:36). The kingdom of God is a heavenly kingdom, and it is composed of heavenly material. However, the good news is that God’s kingdom is available to those who make Jesus their Lord.
It’s a command: "But seek first his kingdom" (Matthew 6:33) and a promise: "Seek and you will find" (Matthew 7:7). L
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Jeanette Murdock Corn is a freelance writer in Oakdale, Minnesota.
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Historical fiction--The Glorious Cause
I wrote this fictional narrative in a single afternoon. I had been studying the historical period, so the narrative flowed. I'm willing to tackle almost anything but notice that historical fiction is easier for me than most types of writing.
I think it's because I love history and research.
The Glorious Cause
“I know it is the right cause,” Phillip Taylor thought as he stood on the roadside, watching the regiments stride past proudly in their new gray uniforms.
The onlookers were festive, cheering and waving enthusiastically as the brave young men filed off to war. Phillip’s mother and younger sister threw flowers and shouted, “Godspeed!” Phillip waved a handkerchief.
When the last unit passed, the youth, whose emotions had been stirred to fervor, jumped into the street. He wanted to join the crowd that followed the troops to the train station, but his mother pulled him back.
Along the busy street they moved. The boy’s mind was feverish. He wanted to camp, march, fight, and perform heroic deeds with those who had just paraded past.
His mother, umbrella opened, hurried along beside him. Already, she was thinking about the routines of the day—planning menus, giving orders to household servants, and looking after her invalid father, who lived with her and required her constant oversight.
Phillip dearly loved his affectionate, indulgent mother but was annoyed by her protective attitude. He knew that when he told her he wanted to join the army, she would demand that he stay at home. He hoped that his father would understand his desire to enlist in the regiment.
“Mother, may I spend the day with Papa?” he asked suddenly.
“Of course not. There’s school,” the mother said.
“On this day?” the boy replied. He was certain that his school, a military academy, would be deserted, since its faculty no doubt had gone to the train station to send off the troops.
The mother looked around. It seemed that the entire town was moving down the street. She thought, “How can I expect him to go to school on this day, which feels like a holiday?”
“I suppose it won’t do any harm to miss one day,” she finally said.
And so the little family made its way toward the white wooden building in the center of town where the boy’s father worked as the community’s only newspaper editor. Inside, four men sat around a wooden table, discussing politics.
“So here’s our fearless lad, Phillip,” said one of them, the town’s former mayor. Despite ailing health, the elderly gentleman stood up politely when Mrs. Taylor entered the room.
Phillip’s father was away from his office, but the mayor assured Phillip’s mother that he would look after her son until the boy’s father returned.
After a flurry of instructions, Mrs. Taylor left the office with a firm grip on the right hand of Phillip’s wide-eyed little sister, Hannah Leigh.
Phillip tried to hide his nervous excitement as he sat on a wooden chair and listened to the animated conversation that was flying around the room.
“Happened thirteen days ago,” the mayor was explaining to a country gentleman who had come to town to get news. “The first shots were fired at Fort Sumter on April 12, and the fort surrendered on the fourteenth. The war is on.” The plantation owner, pleased by the report, pulled a flask out of his coat pocket and offered a spot of whiskey to the other three men.
“May it fire the Southern heart,” he said, and everyone loudly agreed.
“What else could we do?” shrugged Abraham Simmons, a reporter. “We didn’t even put him on our ballots, but the Union elected him. And now they’ve installed their Abolitionist President. No honorable Southerner can submit to such a blatant Yankee attempt to dominate Southern government.”
“And topple our economy,” Benjamin Murray, a local businessman, added.
“Our whole way of life,” Simmons said. “It tramples on the right of the individual states to run their own affairs and live according to what’s best for each of them.”
“It robs us of our Constitutional rights,” said the mayor. “Our right to govern ourselves. Our ancestors died for nothing if we give in to the corruption of Yankee politics.”
“Abraham Lincoln, the Black Republican,” the plantation owner agreed. “Enthroned in Washington. At the beck and call of every Yankee industrialist.”
“And all of their confounded protective tariffs,” Murray said. A murmur ran through the room.
“More like foreigners than friends,” Simmons added. “They’ll do everything to make sure slavery doesn’t spread into the new territories. They’ll choke slavery to death if they can.”
“They know that slave property is the foundation of all property in the South,” the landowner agreed. “If we lose our slave property, the entire region will collapse. Banks, stocks, bonds. Everything.”
“Uncertainty will reign. That’s what they want,” Murray said.
“And if all the slaves in the South were emancipated tomorrow, what would those Yankee Abolitionists do?” the plantation owner asked. “When four million homeless, jobless, uneducated Negroes descended on Southern society, would they build houses? Provide jobs? Take Negroes into their homes? Welcome them into their churches and schools? Bear the burden, even in a small way?”
“They’d do nothing,” Murray said bitterly. “They wouldn’t even notice the confusion. They’d be blinded by those crocodile tears they shed.”
The others chuckled, and the landowner offered a second round of shots from his whiskey flask.
“But I don’t like the trend,” Simmons said, his voice growing serious. “They’ve had some political success, and success has a way of producing strength. People tend to follow it. And the Abolitionist movement is gaining strength in the South. I fear that it will continue to grow. Before you know it, we’ll be struggling against Southerners.
“Look at this.” Simmons held up a copy of the Knoxville, Tennessee Whig. “Here’s a Unionist paper being published right here in the South. And the editor is Parson Brownlows, a Southerner. If we don’t stand up to Abolitionists now, how many more Parson Brownlows will they be able to produce?”
“Damned Tennessee preacher turned journalist. Yankee sympathizer,” the former mayor said.
“Powerful voice, though,” the boy’s father said. Notebook in hand, he’d walked softly through the door.
“John Taylor, you scared me,” the mayor laughed.
“Mayor,” Taylor said, tipping his hat. “Gentlemen.”
Out of respect for his father, the young man jumped to his feet.
“Phillip, what brings you to town?” Taylor asked.
“Papa, I’ve come to talk with you about something very serious,” Phillip replied.
His solemn tone brought smiles to the visitors’ faces. “John, you’d better get to the bottom of it," Murray chuckled, revealing by his amused tone that he expected the subject of Phillip’s discussion with his father to be childish and insignificant.
John Taylor ushered his son into his office and closed the door. He sat down at his desk, and Phillip stood before him, waiting patiently for permission to begin
Taylor was a thoughtful, studious man who weighed his words carefully, and Phillip trusted him. “What is it, Phillip?” he asked.
“I want to join the army,” Phillip replied. He had intended to present a few persuasive arguments before making his request, but when the moment came, he was so nervous that he blurted it out.
John Taylor looked hard at his son. “Why is that?”
“Duty, sir. And for the glory of the Cause.”
“And what is the Cause you’re so willing to sacrifice for?”
“Papa, you know!”
“The preservation of the South?”
“Yes, of course. And the preservation of our proud past!” Phillip said zealously.
“Yes, in this region of the country, we’re certainly defined by our past. Son, you’re only thirteen years old. You are too young to go to war. Your place is here with your mother and me. Your place is in school. Comfort yourself by giving moral support to the Confederacy.”
Phillip, who had hoped for his father’s enthusiastic support, was disappointed, but he didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said.
“Now, you go out into the lobby and ask Benjamin Murray to walk you home.”
John watched his son leave the room. When the door was closed, he sighed heavily and put his face in his hands. Today, Phillip was a slender adolescent, but his body would mature. No doubt, his determination would also grow. John suspected that Phillip would go to war in a year or two, whether his parents approved or not.
Taylor unlocked a hidden drawer on the underside of his broad wooden desk and pulled out a journal that he had been writing in for weeks. When he opened the journal, letters fell out—correspondence from Abolitionists with whom he often sympathized.
The last journal entry had been written hastily, four days before. Dated April 21, 1861, it said, “We’ve been thrust into war. I am a gloomy man, for I fear the violent ruin of a proud society. How many lives will be sacrificed?”
“How quickly events march forward,” he thought.
He picked up his pen and wrote, “April 25, 1861. This dismal war! It has already cast its shadow over my family. What will be left when it’s done?”
And then John Taylor locked away his journal, walked out to the lobby, set to print a news story about the warriors of the Glorious Cause, and spent some time with his friends.
I think it's because I love history and research.
The Glorious Cause
“I know it is the right cause,” Phillip Taylor thought as he stood on the roadside, watching the regiments stride past proudly in their new gray uniforms.
The onlookers were festive, cheering and waving enthusiastically as the brave young men filed off to war. Phillip’s mother and younger sister threw flowers and shouted, “Godspeed!” Phillip waved a handkerchief.
When the last unit passed, the youth, whose emotions had been stirred to fervor, jumped into the street. He wanted to join the crowd that followed the troops to the train station, but his mother pulled him back.
Along the busy street they moved. The boy’s mind was feverish. He wanted to camp, march, fight, and perform heroic deeds with those who had just paraded past.
His mother, umbrella opened, hurried along beside him. Already, she was thinking about the routines of the day—planning menus, giving orders to household servants, and looking after her invalid father, who lived with her and required her constant oversight.
Phillip dearly loved his affectionate, indulgent mother but was annoyed by her protective attitude. He knew that when he told her he wanted to join the army, she would demand that he stay at home. He hoped that his father would understand his desire to enlist in the regiment.
“Mother, may I spend the day with Papa?” he asked suddenly.
“Of course not. There’s school,” the mother said.
“On this day?” the boy replied. He was certain that his school, a military academy, would be deserted, since its faculty no doubt had gone to the train station to send off the troops.
The mother looked around. It seemed that the entire town was moving down the street. She thought, “How can I expect him to go to school on this day, which feels like a holiday?”
“I suppose it won’t do any harm to miss one day,” she finally said.
And so the little family made its way toward the white wooden building in the center of town where the boy’s father worked as the community’s only newspaper editor. Inside, four men sat around a wooden table, discussing politics.
“So here’s our fearless lad, Phillip,” said one of them, the town’s former mayor. Despite ailing health, the elderly gentleman stood up politely when Mrs. Taylor entered the room.
Phillip’s father was away from his office, but the mayor assured Phillip’s mother that he would look after her son until the boy’s father returned.
After a flurry of instructions, Mrs. Taylor left the office with a firm grip on the right hand of Phillip’s wide-eyed little sister, Hannah Leigh.
Phillip tried to hide his nervous excitement as he sat on a wooden chair and listened to the animated conversation that was flying around the room.
“Happened thirteen days ago,” the mayor was explaining to a country gentleman who had come to town to get news. “The first shots were fired at Fort Sumter on April 12, and the fort surrendered on the fourteenth. The war is on.” The plantation owner, pleased by the report, pulled a flask out of his coat pocket and offered a spot of whiskey to the other three men.
“May it fire the Southern heart,” he said, and everyone loudly agreed.
“What else could we do?” shrugged Abraham Simmons, a reporter. “We didn’t even put him on our ballots, but the Union elected him. And now they’ve installed their Abolitionist President. No honorable Southerner can submit to such a blatant Yankee attempt to dominate Southern government.”
“And topple our economy,” Benjamin Murray, a local businessman, added.
“Our whole way of life,” Simmons said. “It tramples on the right of the individual states to run their own affairs and live according to what’s best for each of them.”
“It robs us of our Constitutional rights,” said the mayor. “Our right to govern ourselves. Our ancestors died for nothing if we give in to the corruption of Yankee politics.”
“Abraham Lincoln, the Black Republican,” the plantation owner agreed. “Enthroned in Washington. At the beck and call of every Yankee industrialist.”
“And all of their confounded protective tariffs,” Murray said. A murmur ran through the room.
“More like foreigners than friends,” Simmons added. “They’ll do everything to make sure slavery doesn’t spread into the new territories. They’ll choke slavery to death if they can.”
“They know that slave property is the foundation of all property in the South,” the landowner agreed. “If we lose our slave property, the entire region will collapse. Banks, stocks, bonds. Everything.”
“Uncertainty will reign. That’s what they want,” Murray said.
“And if all the slaves in the South were emancipated tomorrow, what would those Yankee Abolitionists do?” the plantation owner asked. “When four million homeless, jobless, uneducated Negroes descended on Southern society, would they build houses? Provide jobs? Take Negroes into their homes? Welcome them into their churches and schools? Bear the burden, even in a small way?”
“They’d do nothing,” Murray said bitterly. “They wouldn’t even notice the confusion. They’d be blinded by those crocodile tears they shed.”
The others chuckled, and the landowner offered a second round of shots from his whiskey flask.
“But I don’t like the trend,” Simmons said, his voice growing serious. “They’ve had some political success, and success has a way of producing strength. People tend to follow it. And the Abolitionist movement is gaining strength in the South. I fear that it will continue to grow. Before you know it, we’ll be struggling against Southerners.
“Look at this.” Simmons held up a copy of the Knoxville, Tennessee Whig. “Here’s a Unionist paper being published right here in the South. And the editor is Parson Brownlows, a Southerner. If we don’t stand up to Abolitionists now, how many more Parson Brownlows will they be able to produce?”
“Damned Tennessee preacher turned journalist. Yankee sympathizer,” the former mayor said.
“Powerful voice, though,” the boy’s father said. Notebook in hand, he’d walked softly through the door.
“John Taylor, you scared me,” the mayor laughed.
“Mayor,” Taylor said, tipping his hat. “Gentlemen.”
Out of respect for his father, the young man jumped to his feet.
“Phillip, what brings you to town?” Taylor asked.
“Papa, I’ve come to talk with you about something very serious,” Phillip replied.
His solemn tone brought smiles to the visitors’ faces. “John, you’d better get to the bottom of it," Murray chuckled, revealing by his amused tone that he expected the subject of Phillip’s discussion with his father to be childish and insignificant.
John Taylor ushered his son into his office and closed the door. He sat down at his desk, and Phillip stood before him, waiting patiently for permission to begin
Taylor was a thoughtful, studious man who weighed his words carefully, and Phillip trusted him. “What is it, Phillip?” he asked.
“I want to join the army,” Phillip replied. He had intended to present a few persuasive arguments before making his request, but when the moment came, he was so nervous that he blurted it out.
John Taylor looked hard at his son. “Why is that?”
“Duty, sir. And for the glory of the Cause.”
“And what is the Cause you’re so willing to sacrifice for?”
“Papa, you know!”
“The preservation of the South?”
“Yes, of course. And the preservation of our proud past!” Phillip said zealously.
“Yes, in this region of the country, we’re certainly defined by our past. Son, you’re only thirteen years old. You are too young to go to war. Your place is here with your mother and me. Your place is in school. Comfort yourself by giving moral support to the Confederacy.”
Phillip, who had hoped for his father’s enthusiastic support, was disappointed, but he didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said.
“Now, you go out into the lobby and ask Benjamin Murray to walk you home.”
John watched his son leave the room. When the door was closed, he sighed heavily and put his face in his hands. Today, Phillip was a slender adolescent, but his body would mature. No doubt, his determination would also grow. John suspected that Phillip would go to war in a year or two, whether his parents approved or not.
Taylor unlocked a hidden drawer on the underside of his broad wooden desk and pulled out a journal that he had been writing in for weeks. When he opened the journal, letters fell out—correspondence from Abolitionists with whom he often sympathized.
The last journal entry had been written hastily, four days before. Dated April 21, 1861, it said, “We’ve been thrust into war. I am a gloomy man, for I fear the violent ruin of a proud society. How many lives will be sacrificed?”
“How quickly events march forward,” he thought.
He picked up his pen and wrote, “April 25, 1861. This dismal war! It has already cast its shadow over my family. What will be left when it’s done?”
And then John Taylor locked away his journal, walked out to the lobby, set to print a news story about the warriors of the Glorious Cause, and spent some time with his friends.
Narrative that presents genuine personal transparency--The earth is the Lord's
My assignment was to write a story from my own life. I was to use genuine personal transparency. When are we more transparent than when we are sharing our moments with the Lord? I recorded a moment when I grasped a spiritual truth.
The Earth is the Lord’s
When I came to the Lord, I had an easy time believing in darkness. I was twenty-four, so I had lived long enough to discover that life can be frightening.
However, I couldn’t quite believe that love was available. Years later, I still struggle to believe that God values me.
And yet I realize that I can only love others to the extent that I have a revelation of how much God loves me.
Recently, I decided to make it a matter of daily prayer. Each morning, I ask God to teach me about His love. Today, I received my first answer to these prayers.
I was reading my Bible when the Word came. It was a foundational truth that I read in Psalm 24:1, which says, “God owns the earth.”
Those who pride themselves on profound, mature theology will no doubt find it amusing that I am stirred by this little verse, but it seems complex and astonishing to me.
John 12:31 calls Satan the “prince of this world.” II Corinthians 4:4 calls him “the god of this world.” He is an evil genius, and in addition to being ruler of demons, he is ruler of our present world system. However, his position of authority, which he has held since Adam’s day, does not make him all-powerful. In fact, John 12:32 says that when Jesus is lifted up, He is able to attract “all men,” in spite of Satan’s efforts to deceive and dominate.
Furthermore, Satan may endeavor to persuade us that he owns the world, but he is a temporary resident. God still owns the earth.
In Exodus 9:29, Moses tells the proud and powerful pharaoh of Egypt that God owns the earth, and in Psalm 24:1, David sings, “The earth is the Lord’s.” The Lord Himself declares it in Psalm 50:12 when He says, “The world and its fullness are mine.”
Nowhere in Scripture does He say that He will relinquish the earth to his enemies, even for a moment. When the Antichrist is ruling the earth, God will be in control, actively opposing him.
What comfort this brings!
If God has command of enormous mountains, powerful oceans, tectonic crustal plates, and vast expanses, He’s able to look after me. If He is able to maintain His authority in the midst of the Antichrist's maneuvering, He is able to manage my life.
I asked the Lord to teach me about love. He began His instruction by assuring me that He is in control of everything.
The Earth is the Lord’s
When I came to the Lord, I had an easy time believing in darkness. I was twenty-four, so I had lived long enough to discover that life can be frightening.
However, I couldn’t quite believe that love was available. Years later, I still struggle to believe that God values me.
And yet I realize that I can only love others to the extent that I have a revelation of how much God loves me.
Recently, I decided to make it a matter of daily prayer. Each morning, I ask God to teach me about His love. Today, I received my first answer to these prayers.
I was reading my Bible when the Word came. It was a foundational truth that I read in Psalm 24:1, which says, “God owns the earth.”
Those who pride themselves on profound, mature theology will no doubt find it amusing that I am stirred by this little verse, but it seems complex and astonishing to me.
John 12:31 calls Satan the “prince of this world.” II Corinthians 4:4 calls him “the god of this world.” He is an evil genius, and in addition to being ruler of demons, he is ruler of our present world system. However, his position of authority, which he has held since Adam’s day, does not make him all-powerful. In fact, John 12:32 says that when Jesus is lifted up, He is able to attract “all men,” in spite of Satan’s efforts to deceive and dominate.
Furthermore, Satan may endeavor to persuade us that he owns the world, but he is a temporary resident. God still owns the earth.
In Exodus 9:29, Moses tells the proud and powerful pharaoh of Egypt that God owns the earth, and in Psalm 24:1, David sings, “The earth is the Lord’s.” The Lord Himself declares it in Psalm 50:12 when He says, “The world and its fullness are mine.”
Nowhere in Scripture does He say that He will relinquish the earth to his enemies, even for a moment. When the Antichrist is ruling the earth, God will be in control, actively opposing him.
What comfort this brings!
If God has command of enormous mountains, powerful oceans, tectonic crustal plates, and vast expanses, He’s able to look after me. If He is able to maintain His authority in the midst of the Antichrist's maneuvering, He is able to manage my life.
I asked the Lord to teach me about love. He began His instruction by assuring me that He is in control of everything.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Dialogue--The Samaritan Woman at the Well
I thought I was retelling a Bible story, but my literary mentor told me that I had written a dialogue. I wrote it in 2004, but I remember how much I enjoyed the work.
The Samaritan Woman at the Well
John 4
Stern faced, ashamed, and bitterly disappointed, she climbed alone up the rocky hill toward the well. With one hand, she gathered her white veil around her troubled face. With the other, she carried a large, empty pot.
It was the sixth hour of the day—noontime. Not the usual time for a Samaritan woman to fill her water pots on a hot summer’s day. Sunrise and sunset--that’s when the women of Sychar gathered at the well.
And most of them went to another well, which was on the other side of the village and closer to the town.
She had chosen this hour deliberately, and she had intentionally chosen this well—Jacob’s well. She wanted to draw water without encountering anyone.
From a distance, she saw him sitting on the stone wall that encircled the well. He slumped, an exhausted traveler.
She approached him cautiously. Occasionally, ill-intentioned men waited by the well at this time of day. They hoped to arrange an hour of pleasure with an errant Samaritan woman who had come for water at a time when respectable women were at home.
As she walked closer, she could see the fringe on the bottom of his robe, which told her he was a Jew. There was great hatred between his people and hers, and she felt blood rushing to her downcast face as resentment welled up in her chest.
However, she didn’t expect him to say anything. Typically, Jewish men did not talk to women when they were in public. When he spoke, she was startled.
“Please give me a drink of water,” he said in a Galilean accent that confirmed he was a Jew. His choice of words and tone of voice communicated urgency.
“Why are you, a Jew, asking me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” she asked, glancing uneasily at him.
She was guarded, but she was also intrigued.
He said, "If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you a free gift--fresh, living water."
She wondered what he meant by “fresh, living water.” She’d never heard of it.
“Sir,” she said, a hint of scorn in her voice, “this well is deep, and you have no bucket. How are you going to get this living water?”
What was the look that flickered across his face? Compassion? And why, in his presence, did she feel vaguely, uncomfortably aware of her sinfulness?
“Are you greater than our ancestor, Jacob?” she asked. Her tone was still challenging. “Tradition says that he gave this well to us, and he used to drink from it himself. How can you offer better water than he, his sons, and his cattle enjoyed?”
The man replied, "Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst--not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life."
The man’s conversation was a reference to spiritual life, but she didn’t understand, so she said, “Please give me this water so that I won’t have to come all the way from town to this well and draw water from it again!”
At this, the man said, “Go, call your husband. Come back here with him.”
Her curiosity changed to embarrassment. She bit her lower lip and backed away. “I have no husband,” she said.
“That was nicely put. ‘I have no husband.’ You’ve had five husbands, and now you’re living with a man you’re not married to. Sure enough, you spoke the truth.”
She discovered, to her amazement, that he was able to describe every detail of her life.
“I perceive that you are a prophet,” she replied. She knew that he could not possibly have learned these things through ordinary means.
Samaritans believed that there were no prophets after Moses. However, they believed that God would one day raise up a great Prophet, a Messiah, who would be like Moses. In fact, they looked for this Messiah.
She began to wonder, “Is this the One we’ve been waiting for?”
However, she did not want him to expose more details about her chaotic personal life, so she tried to change the conversation.
Centuries before, her ancestors had built a temple at Mt. Gerizim. Here, they accepted the Jewish Pentateuch as their Bible and offered sacrifices according to the Mosaic code. This temple had rivaled the temple in Jerusalem and had produced a great controversy between Samaritans and Jews.
She wanted his opinion regarding the debate. However, she was much more interested in diverting his attention from her immorality.
“Please tell me this,” she said. “Our ancestors worshiped God here, at Mt. Gerizim, but you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place for worship. Isn’t that correct?”
"Believe me, woman. A time is coming. In fact, it’s already here. In that season, it won’t matter what you’re called. It won’t matter whether you worship the Father here or in Jerusalem.
“Now, when you worship, you are guessing. You’re still in the dark. On the other hand, we who are Jews worship in the clear light of day. God’s way of salvation—the Messianic salvation that you seek--is made available through the Jews.”
She set down her water pot. Eyes lowered, she listened intently. She felt that his words had created a cord that tugged at her.
“The hour comes,” he said. “In fact, it’s already here. It is the hour of true worshippers.”
His words seemed to be alive. With each moment, they grew in size and intensity.
“The true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth,” he said. Softly, he added, “The Father is seeking such people to worship Him.” She knew that he was inviting her to become one of these worshippers.
She said, “I know that the Messiah is coming. He is called the Christ, the Anointed One. Surely, when he comes, he will explain these things.”
He said to her, “I am He.”
His words were so powerful that she struggled to stay on her feet.
A group of men arrived. They were his acquaintances, his followers. They had been in the village, purchasing food. They looked intently at her but did not say anything.
Leaving behind her water pot, she departed quickly. Into the town she ran.
“Come, see a man who told me all things I ever did,” she said urgently to the townspeople she encountered. “He knows me inside out--even the shameful things. Could this be the Messiah? Surely this is the Christ, the Anointed One. Come out to the well. Perhaps He can take away your doubts.”
In the small town, word spread quickly. “Her demeanor has changed!” some said. “She actually claims that she has put her failures in the past. And she says that a man waits at Jacob’s well who is a spokesman from God.”
“Notorious as she is, how could an outsider know the details of her life? Perhaps this man really does have the special powers she talks about,” said others.
The townspeople were skeptical, but the woman’s statements intrigued them. The entire village walked up the hill toward the well in small, confounded groups.
Some received Him because of the woman’s testimony. Others embraced him because of the words He preached. They invited him to remain with them, and he stayed for two days, teaching and paying kind attention to them.
To the north lay Galilee, where the Messiah had grown up and where most of His miracles took place. He had a large following in Galilee, but the Galileans’ faith was weak, and the people in his hometown rejected Him.
Judea lay to the south, the home of Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. Jesus, the Christ, had followers in Judea, too. However, he faced persecution from the Judean religious leaders, who wanted to protect their power and influence by eliminating Him.
Between Galilee and Judea lay Samaria, the region of “the mongrels,” the despised. And the Samaritan woman, who had been rejected by her own people, was more reviled than most.
John Darby calls the Samaritans a “mingled race of strangers.” By Jewish standards, they were the least of the least. And yet Jesus found faith among them, a genuine understanding of the promised Messiah. Many of them became His followers.
More than two years before Pentecost, when Peter announced Jesus’ deity to the Jews, revival came to Samaria, and it began with the testimony of the woman at the well. “He is the Messiah,” she said. In a foreshadowing of the great move of Christianity into the Gentile world, the Samaritans embraced and acknowledged the Lord.
References:
Mark Perkins. “The Samaritan Woman.” Front Range Bible Church; Denver, Co.
http://gracenotes.info/topics/SamaritanWoman.html.
Wayne Jackson. “Jesus and the Samaritan Woman.” 1 November 2000
<>.
Finis Jennings Dake. Dake’s Annotated Reference Bible, King James Version. Dake Bible Sales. Lawrenceville, Ga. © 1969, 1989.
Cfaith Bible study tools. BibleGateway.com. Message Bible. http://www.cfaith.com/FAITH/bible_gateway/1,3991,,00.asp.
Cfaith Bible study tools. Crosswalk.com. New American Standard Bible.
< http://www.cfaith.com/FAITH/bible_crosswalk/1,4034,,00.asp
The Samaritan Woman at the Well
John 4
Stern faced, ashamed, and bitterly disappointed, she climbed alone up the rocky hill toward the well. With one hand, she gathered her white veil around her troubled face. With the other, she carried a large, empty pot.
It was the sixth hour of the day—noontime. Not the usual time for a Samaritan woman to fill her water pots on a hot summer’s day. Sunrise and sunset--that’s when the women of Sychar gathered at the well.
And most of them went to another well, which was on the other side of the village and closer to the town.
She had chosen this hour deliberately, and she had intentionally chosen this well—Jacob’s well. She wanted to draw water without encountering anyone.
From a distance, she saw him sitting on the stone wall that encircled the well. He slumped, an exhausted traveler.
She approached him cautiously. Occasionally, ill-intentioned men waited by the well at this time of day. They hoped to arrange an hour of pleasure with an errant Samaritan woman who had come for water at a time when respectable women were at home.
As she walked closer, she could see the fringe on the bottom of his robe, which told her he was a Jew. There was great hatred between his people and hers, and she felt blood rushing to her downcast face as resentment welled up in her chest.
However, she didn’t expect him to say anything. Typically, Jewish men did not talk to women when they were in public. When he spoke, she was startled.
“Please give me a drink of water,” he said in a Galilean accent that confirmed he was a Jew. His choice of words and tone of voice communicated urgency.
“Why are you, a Jew, asking me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” she asked, glancing uneasily at him.
She was guarded, but she was also intrigued.
He said, "If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you a free gift--fresh, living water."
She wondered what he meant by “fresh, living water.” She’d never heard of it.
“Sir,” she said, a hint of scorn in her voice, “this well is deep, and you have no bucket. How are you going to get this living water?”
What was the look that flickered across his face? Compassion? And why, in his presence, did she feel vaguely, uncomfortably aware of her sinfulness?
“Are you greater than our ancestor, Jacob?” she asked. Her tone was still challenging. “Tradition says that he gave this well to us, and he used to drink from it himself. How can you offer better water than he, his sons, and his cattle enjoyed?”
The man replied, "Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst--not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life."
The man’s conversation was a reference to spiritual life, but she didn’t understand, so she said, “Please give me this water so that I won’t have to come all the way from town to this well and draw water from it again!”
At this, the man said, “Go, call your husband. Come back here with him.”
Her curiosity changed to embarrassment. She bit her lower lip and backed away. “I have no husband,” she said.
“That was nicely put. ‘I have no husband.’ You’ve had five husbands, and now you’re living with a man you’re not married to. Sure enough, you spoke the truth.”
She discovered, to her amazement, that he was able to describe every detail of her life.
“I perceive that you are a prophet,” she replied. She knew that he could not possibly have learned these things through ordinary means.
Samaritans believed that there were no prophets after Moses. However, they believed that God would one day raise up a great Prophet, a Messiah, who would be like Moses. In fact, they looked for this Messiah.
She began to wonder, “Is this the One we’ve been waiting for?”
However, she did not want him to expose more details about her chaotic personal life, so she tried to change the conversation.
Centuries before, her ancestors had built a temple at Mt. Gerizim. Here, they accepted the Jewish Pentateuch as their Bible and offered sacrifices according to the Mosaic code. This temple had rivaled the temple in Jerusalem and had produced a great controversy between Samaritans and Jews.
She wanted his opinion regarding the debate. However, she was much more interested in diverting his attention from her immorality.
“Please tell me this,” she said. “Our ancestors worshiped God here, at Mt. Gerizim, but you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place for worship. Isn’t that correct?”
"Believe me, woman. A time is coming. In fact, it’s already here. In that season, it won’t matter what you’re called. It won’t matter whether you worship the Father here or in Jerusalem.
“Now, when you worship, you are guessing. You’re still in the dark. On the other hand, we who are Jews worship in the clear light of day. God’s way of salvation—the Messianic salvation that you seek--is made available through the Jews.”
She set down her water pot. Eyes lowered, she listened intently. She felt that his words had created a cord that tugged at her.
“The hour comes,” he said. “In fact, it’s already here. It is the hour of true worshippers.”
His words seemed to be alive. With each moment, they grew in size and intensity.
“The true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth,” he said. Softly, he added, “The Father is seeking such people to worship Him.” She knew that he was inviting her to become one of these worshippers.
She said, “I know that the Messiah is coming. He is called the Christ, the Anointed One. Surely, when he comes, he will explain these things.”
He said to her, “I am He.”
His words were so powerful that she struggled to stay on her feet.
A group of men arrived. They were his acquaintances, his followers. They had been in the village, purchasing food. They looked intently at her but did not say anything.
Leaving behind her water pot, she departed quickly. Into the town she ran.
“Come, see a man who told me all things I ever did,” she said urgently to the townspeople she encountered. “He knows me inside out--even the shameful things. Could this be the Messiah? Surely this is the Christ, the Anointed One. Come out to the well. Perhaps He can take away your doubts.”
In the small town, word spread quickly. “Her demeanor has changed!” some said. “She actually claims that she has put her failures in the past. And she says that a man waits at Jacob’s well who is a spokesman from God.”
“Notorious as she is, how could an outsider know the details of her life? Perhaps this man really does have the special powers she talks about,” said others.
The townspeople were skeptical, but the woman’s statements intrigued them. The entire village walked up the hill toward the well in small, confounded groups.
Some received Him because of the woman’s testimony. Others embraced him because of the words He preached. They invited him to remain with them, and he stayed for two days, teaching and paying kind attention to them.
To the north lay Galilee, where the Messiah had grown up and where most of His miracles took place. He had a large following in Galilee, but the Galileans’ faith was weak, and the people in his hometown rejected Him.
Judea lay to the south, the home of Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. Jesus, the Christ, had followers in Judea, too. However, he faced persecution from the Judean religious leaders, who wanted to protect their power and influence by eliminating Him.
Between Galilee and Judea lay Samaria, the region of “the mongrels,” the despised. And the Samaritan woman, who had been rejected by her own people, was more reviled than most.
John Darby calls the Samaritans a “mingled race of strangers.” By Jewish standards, they were the least of the least. And yet Jesus found faith among them, a genuine understanding of the promised Messiah. Many of them became His followers.
More than two years before Pentecost, when Peter announced Jesus’ deity to the Jews, revival came to Samaria, and it began with the testimony of the woman at the well. “He is the Messiah,” she said. In a foreshadowing of the great move of Christianity into the Gentile world, the Samaritans embraced and acknowledged the Lord.
References:
Mark Perkins. “The Samaritan Woman.” Front Range Bible Church; Denver, Co.
http://gracenotes.info/topics/SamaritanWoman.html.
Wayne Jackson. “Jesus and the Samaritan Woman.” 1 November 2000
<>.
Finis Jennings Dake. Dake’s Annotated Reference Bible, King James Version. Dake Bible Sales. Lawrenceville, Ga. © 1969, 1989.
Cfaith Bible study tools. BibleGateway.com. Message Bible. http://www.cfaith.com/FAITH/bible_gateway/1,3991,,00.asp.
Cfaith Bible study tools. Crosswalk.com. New American Standard Bible.
< http://www.cfaith.com/FAITH/bible_crosswalk/1,4034,,00.asp
Monologue--One More Night with the Frogs
While growing up, my son Ronald attended a lot of church services, but the sermon he remembers is “One More Night with the Frogs.” It comes from Exodus 8 and includes a powerful king, a cautious prophet, and millions of frogs.At the beginning of the story, the Israelites are trapped in Egypt’s underclass, enslaved by a powerful king. God’s word to Egypt’s ruler is “Let my people go.” The king is determined to prevent the Israelites from leaving Egypt, so his response to God is No.
Ten plagues come, one by one. They are God’s miraculous signs and wonders, designed to convince Egypt’s Pharaoh to release the Israelites. By the time the tenth plague is carried out, Pharaoh lets God’s people go.
Exodus 8:1-15 tells the story of the second plague, which probably would have done it for me. In Exodus 8, God says, “I will smite all thy borders with frogs.” NLT Study Bible describes them as a plague of frogs that come out of the Nile River, enter the houses of the people and government officials, and swarm into the bedroom of the king. They cover everything, including Pharaoh’s bed.
It is hard to sleep in a bed full of croaking frogs, so Pharaoh summons Aaron and Moses, who are God’s representatives. Pharaoh says, “Plead with the Lord to take the frogs away from me and my people. I will let your people go so they can offer sacrifices to the Lord.”
“Explain yourself to me,” Moses replies. “You have the honor of telling me when you want the frogs removed. You set the time. Tell me when you want me to pray for you, your officials, and your people. Then you and your houses will be rid of the frogs. They will remain only in the Nile River.”
I don’t know about you, but if frogs were in my water pots, pantry, closet, bathroom, and bed, I would say, “NOW!!!! Pray for us now.”
I suppose that the Pharaoh is too proud to reveal his desperation. Maybe he wants to come up with a plan to hold onto his slaves. Perhaps he hopes that if he delays, the frogs will go away. Whatever the reason, he says, “Do it tomorrow.” He chooses to spend one more night with the frogs.
Lessons are obvious. One of them is the human tendency to delay, which often brings terrible consequences. “Tomorrow,” we often say.
I come to my first blog posting—a monologue in which I endeavor to illustrate the human tendency to say, “Tomorrow, Lord. I’ll do it tomorrow. I want to spend one more night with the frogs.”
Middle aged man sitting alone at a small kitchen table, drinking his morning coffee. Stage is dark except for the spotlight shining on him.
I tolerated a lot, and it’s no wonder I refused to go to church. Anyone in my position would have done the same thing, I believe. I’m sure God understood.
In all fairness, I should say that my children were never the problem. Certainly, they talked to me sometimes. “Dad, we’re praying for you,” they would say. “Dad, we’re concerned about your eternal destiny.” But they didn’t try to shove religion down my throat. My wife, on the other hand, was always nagging me. “Quit drinking. Set a good example. Go to church. Commit your life to the Lord,” she would say. “Don’t put it off,” she would warn. She didn’t know when to stop.
Sunday mornings were usually tense. My wife would have a meltdown when I popped the top on a cold one instead of getting dressed for church.
When she was angry, she didn’t yell, but her silences were like sonic booms, and her angry glances were powerful. I wonder if she practiced those hostile glares in the mirror before she used them on me.
I made sure they never produced the result she was hoping for.
Now that I look back, going to church as a family meant a lot to her, and I guess it wouldn’t have killed me to go with her now and then. But I didn’t want to be marched off to church like a naughty little boy whose mother was worried about appearances.
Besides, I worked hard. All week, I bore the burden of supporting a family. On Sunday, I needed to have a few beers and relax. The last thing I needed was a crowded church and a long sermon about guilt and iniquity.
And let’s face it. Those preachers probably had a few guilty pleasures of their own.
At least, that’s what I always told myself.
Maybe I was rationalizing, but it was the way I justified my decision to stay away from church. I argued that churchgoers really were no different from everyone else. They were simply a bunch of hypocrites who knew how to put on a show.
I never saw the divorce coming. I thought my wife would stay married to me forever, I suppose. “For better or worse,” like she vowed on our wedding day.
Oh, well. My children tell me she’s happy, and I don’t think she was very happy when she was living with me. She’s married to a “fellow believer.” That’s what my children call him, anyway. From what I hear, she spends half her time going on mission trips with this guy. Africa. Asia. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me. But she always talked about traveling. At one time, she probably hoped she’d go on mission trips with me.
People say that no marriage dies suddenly. Instead, marriages die slowly, piece by piece. That’s what happened to my marriage, I believe. Little by little, unresolved conflicts chipped away at my wife’s commitment to me.
Oh, sure. I was unfaithful at times. But when men stray, aren’t wives supposed to look the other way? Isn’t that one of the unwritten rules of successful marriages?
Unfortunately, my wife didn’t see things that way.
She always expected a heartfelt apology. In fact, the word she used was “repent.” And I don’t think a husband should be expected to come to his wife with hat in hand, begging to be taken back in. I think that women should simply forgive their husbands for weaknesses of the flesh and move on.
We have “no fault” auto insurance, after all. Seems to me we should have “no fault” marriages.
But seriously-—I thought my wife knew that I loved her. I thought she understood that she occupied first place in my life.
That was the problem, I think. She never understood my heart.
For example, she always assumed that I was a sinner, but I grew up in church. I have Christian beliefs. I know what the Bible says. It’s just that my beliefs are a private affair that I keep to myself. I’m not willing to display them outwardly.
And all this praising God and raising hands. I don’t like public demonstrations. They seem phony to me. They make me uncomfortable.
My daughter was talking to me the other day. She quoted a Bible verse that says, “The curse causeless shall not come.” When I asked her to explain what she meant, she said that the man who disobeys God can expect to have a lot of heartache and frustration in life.
That sooner or later, if I want to go to heaven, I’ll have to follow God’s plan and obey His commands. But God is a loving Father, isn’t he? He’s willing to give me some space.
He knows my heart, after all. He knows that, deep inside, I believe in Him. I don’t think He will ignore my prayers when I decide to reach out to Him. But I’m a stubborn man, I’ll admit. I need to choose the time and place. I’m sure He sympathizes with that.
Let’s see. (Looks at watch.) It’s eight thirty. If this Sunday is like most others, my daughter will call me in a few minutes and invite me to church. And if this Sunday is like most others, I will turn her down.
But she’s probably right. At some point, I’ll have to get everything worked out with the Lord.
Of course, I still have plenty of time. God is patient, and He will wait for me.
I don’t think I’ll go to church this morning. There are two or three crucial NFL games being broadcast on cable today. I’d rather stay home, have a few beers, and watch football on TV.
But I know that I can’t put off this Christianity thing forever.
Maybe next week. I don’t want to go to church today, but maybe next week I’ll go.
Black Out as man sips coffee and reads newspaper.
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