When "Good-bye" Becomes a Prayer

"All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages."

William Shakespeare, "As You Like It," Act 2, scene 7

The eldest of our two adult daughters is moving out of the state today. Shakespeare's words capture my emotions, as I witness the first of many changes in our respective lives.

If you live long, you'll inevitably play a lot of roles.

I remember moving out of state for the first time as an adult child. I saw it all from the child's perspective, of course. Now, as a parent, I see a bit of what my own parents were seeing -- and feeling -- as we went about routine tasks, and silently counted-down to the moment when we said our good-byes.

Good-byes are hard, even when you've been looking forward to "launch time," such as the last day of an unpleasant job; or the first day of a great adventure. Good-byes are hard because saying "good-bye" is the prelude to a change for just about everyone in the "cast." Good-byes are hard because no change comes without uncertainty.

Lost in the modern usage of the word "good-bye," is its literal Middle English origin: "God be with you." Therein, for me, is the key to surviving every departure with its promises for success and its risks for failure: The invited presence of God.

An Antidote for Narcissism

Recent news of a former professional acquaintance who -- much to the consternation of his colleagues -- was apparently scheming to stay-on in his current job beyond his normal tenure, reminded me of another all too human proclivity: Narcissism.

Narcissus, according to both Greek and Roman mythology, was a handsome but vain young man who spurned all who loved him, and upon seeing his reflection for the first time, fell in love with himself; the tragedy, of course, being that he could see but never touch the object of his affection.

Today, we usually regard persons as narcissistic if they are vain or seem to love themselves more than all others.

I must confess to having given in to narcissistic tendencies, as we see all too often with the leader who schemes for another term in office -- the constitution be damned; the aging athlete who fears life's prospects apart from adoring fans; or the senior military officer who cannot imagine life without the military, even as the military has decided that it will do just fine without him.

In the Book of Ecclesiastes, its writer says that there is a time and a purpose for everything under heaven. Some transitions -- such as job promotions, weddings, the birth of children, and new prospects in exciting places -- are greeted eagerly. Other transitions -- such as the inconveniences of aging, forced career changes, or even the departure of adult children to situations and locations that are strange and distant -- are greeted less eagerly. Yet, both kinds of transitions are a part of the "deal." The more narcissistic we are, the more we want to avoid the unpleasant bits, and keep the sweetest parts of the deal to ourselves.

In my former colleague's case, I suspect that he had developed special relationships and knowledge in his current assignment that would be of special value to his current and future bosses. The military is a particularly risky place to advance this line of reasoning in the pursuit of job longevity, since it is an article of faith in the better military forces of the world that all persons are replaceable. Or, as the late French General Charles de Gaulle said: "The cemeteries of the world are filled with indispensable men."

The Scriptures can help us avoid narcissism which, if the truth be told, irritates everyone except the person who is captivated by his or her own virtues, value, or abilities.

The Bible tells the follower of Jesus that he or she ought to look out for the interests of others as one looks out for one's own interests. (Philippians 2: 4) Many times, when we've stayed "in the chair" beyond our time, it robs someone coming along behind us of the opportunity to learn as we've learned because we're occupying the spot! Looking out for the interests of others means doing for others as we would have others to do for us -- and that includes stepping aside. (Matthew 7: 12)

In a less direct way -- through the lives of others -- the Bible also reminds us that what we sometimes regard as negative experiences are frequently the "training" we need for other "jobs" and "assignments" in one's life and career.

Consider the life of Moses, who had risen high in the ranks of Egyptian leadership before fleeing a murder accusation to the backside of the desert to tend sheep for 40 years which, at the time, must have seemed to Moses like the end of the end to a very promising career. As is often the case when our careful planning seems to go awry, God was just getting started. A wilderness apprenticeship was precisely the training Moses would need to lead God's little flock -- the Children of Israel -- in the wilderness following the Exodus.

The epilogue to the Exodus story is that Moses did not live to enter the Promised Land because the work the Lord had given Moses was finished. The Lord God chose the protege of Moses, Joshua, to lead the Children of Israel across the Jordan River into the Promised Land.

What if you and I aspired to be like Moses: A person who accepted both the sweet and the bitter of life with equal grace; who refused to sulk when reversed; and who easily yielded the stage to Joshua, a person whose interests he had guarded as carefully as his own?

If we dared to try, it would transform us for better; and it would gladden the heart of God.

Art Credit: Narcissus by Caravaggio

Discipleship's Simple Requirement: An Open Handed Approach to Life

The brush fires in California, and the accompanying reports of homeowners who refuse to evacuate at the risk of perishing in the flames and smoke, are an apt metaphor of Christian discipleship's simple requirement: Living with an open hand.

In Luke's Gospel, Jesus is recorded, after a brief discourse, as saying: "So then, none of you can be My disciple who does not give up all his own possessions." (Luke 14: 33, NASB)

The early 20th Century Christian missionary Oswald Chambers opined that this didn't mean that one could not be saved, as if from the peril of hell (which complements our original metaphor), but that he or she would not completely belong to Jesus. (Please click here for the referenced quotation.)

The point is that it is impossible to completely belong to Jesus if one is holding any of his own possessions. Discipleship, you see, is a zero-sum game. John the Baptist understood it as such: "He (Jesus) must increase, but I (John) must decrease." (John 3: 30, NASB, parenthetical notes are mine)

Holding one's own possessions is not the same as being a caretaker (steward) for the possessions of someone else. In life, we will have things, but the aspiring disciple of Jesus regards all that is under his or her stewardship as such, and not a personal possession.

One of the best illustrations of this occurred to a disciple named Clarence Jordan, who in 1942 began an experiment in racial reconciliation on a farm near Americus, Georgia, which drew the ire of some of its white neighbors. In the mid-1950s, Jordan's "experiment," Koinonia Farms, was the a frequent target of gunfire, bombings, arson, and the beating of its people.

In a letter to a friend, written in 1959, Jordan wrote: "I remember the night Harry Atkinson and I were on our way over to the roadside market after we had received word that it had been bombed and was burning. When we came over a hill we could see the fiery glow on the horizon, and this ignited a burning in my heart. I was scorched with anger, and I'm sure if I had known who had committed the act, there would have been considerable hatred in my heart. At that time I doubt that I could have distinguished between anger and hate.

"But as I had occasion to think, I realized that the hate was rooted in a consuming possessiveness. . . Later I had the same reaction when various ones, including myself and my children, were shot at. The so-and-sos were trying to take our lives from us!

"The solution to this soul-destroying condition came only upon the recognition that neither property nor lives were ours but God's. They never really had been ours in any sense of the word. We hadn't even 'given them back to Him' -- they were His all along. And if this was he way He wanted to spend His property and His people in order to accomplish His purposes, why should we pitch a tantrum?" ("Theology in Coveralls," Sojourners magazine, December 1979)

As Jordan notes, our possessiveness provokes all manner of negative emotions within us, and will eventually destroy the core of our being -- our soul.

I have always been in awe of people who live life with an open hand. Those rare folk who will work hard for something, but will also walk away from it or give it up because, I think, they have realized as John the Baptist did in Jesus' time; and Clarence Jordan has in ours, that it all belongs to God and it is God's to use (however peculiar or wasteful it may, at the time, seem to us) for His purposes.

Too many of us, for far too long have lived our life with a clenched hand. We grip what we have grasped. We are loathe to let go; and heaven help anyone who dare take what we hold from us. Yet, the truth of the matter is this: While no one may not be able to take what you have, neither can someone give you something better.

To give away all that one possesses is the first step toward gaining the gifts of God!

Magazine Review: Mapping the Seven Deadly Sins

The latest issue of "Wired" magazine maps the Seven Deadly Sins. (Click here to see the article and accompanying maps.)

If you've never read this magazine, it is worth your time. And it's not just a magazine for geeks (although persons with less than perfect eyesight will need reading glasses). As you might have assumed, you can also find "Wired" on the Web.

I began subscribing to this magazine because I thought it would help me to better understand the technology that has become a part -- for better or worse -- of interpersonal communication. Preaching, if nothing else, is interpersonal communication on a large scale; and I thought that a better understanding of the communication technologies would help me to be a better preacher.

So, if you've wanted to learn about Craigslist, how to throw a knife, or discover what's really in a Slim Jim snack, "Wired" is your ticket. And, you'll also see where the big "sinners" live!

The Runner, the Motorist, and the Turtle

The story below actually happened to my wife Jay, and is re-told with her permission. (It's not like the story is copyrighted; or that my wife would sue me, or something, if I didn't obtain her permission. But if you like this story, and you know my wife, please tell her so.)

A few days ago, my wife was running through our neighborhood when she saw a box turtle in the street.

The turtle was half-way across the street as she passed.

Approaching, from the opposite direction, was a car that attracted my wife's attention because, as it approached, it began to slow. Then, several yards beyond my wife, the car stopped.

As she turned, she noticed that the car had stopped at the turtle. A man emerged from the driver's side. He picked-up the turtle, and headed to the grass beyond the curb -- limping.

"On Love," and Newspapers

"On Love"

My Sunday newspaper contains a weekly article in its "Style" section that features a couple's "love story."

I normally don't read these articles, because the articles that I have read seem to be about the same kinds of love: Man meets woman; man and woman "fall in love"; man and woman are challenged in some way in their love for each other; through the challenge, man and woman come to realize that they are made for each other; man and woman get married; man and woman live happily ever after.

Yesterday's article was true to that formula -- click here to read the article -- and reading it gave me another reason not to read such articles in the future: These stories are only about the first chapter of that couple's life together (although in the case of yesterday's couple, they had known each other for more than ten years and had two children between them before they arrived at the altar -- but that is another story for another time).

My wife and I have been married for more than 27 years, and I have been in pastoral ministry for more than 30 years. Based on those experiences, I wish that my Sunday paper -- and all others newspapers with similar story ideas for "love stories" -- would write the love stories of couples who have been married for more than 40 years. Or the love story of a couple that has stayed together through the death of a child, a life-threatening illness, a disabling injury, or a shattered career.

Many marriages do not survive such stresses. The marriages that do are full of lessons about humility, transformation, self-sacrifice, faith, hope, and love. Precisely the lessons that couples completing the first chapter of their life together will need for each successive chapter; precisely the lessons that all couples need to make the transition from wedding day to married life.

Newspapers

Now, while I am on the subject of Sunday newspaper reading, I also noted an article on the recent purchases of small, local, newspapers by former Washington Redskins president John Kent Cooke, which is contrary to the current trend, where most folks with money are shunning old media, such as newspapers. (Click here to see article.)

Newspapers are dear to me. I studied journalism in college and, for a time, was a working journalist for three daily newspapers. The decline in newspaper readership saddens me.

Cooke is not buying newspapers out of sentiment. He sees small daily and weekly newspapers in locations that are outside the shadow of large, national, dailies -- such as The Washington Post, The New York Times, and The Los Angeles Times -- as strong for newsprint.

It seems that in this case, small is better -- and more profitable. As a former newspaper guy, I hope Cooke is right!

The Redeeming Power of Poverty

"I've been rich, and I've been poor. Rich is better," said Beatrice Kaufman more than 70 years ago.

In the decades since Kaufman -- and in the centuries before -- few have disagreed. Poverty is as limiting as it is humiliating. Most people, I think, would prefer to encounter poverty by a rare and fleeting accident, than by even the most carefully crafted design.

The "rich is better" axiom is challenged in today's selection from the devotional guide, "My Utmost for His Highest," which is a year's worth of daily readings excerpted from talks and sermons given by early 20th Century missionary Oswald Chambers (pictured).

"The underlying foundation of Jesus Christ's kingdom is poverty; not possessions; not making decisions for Jesus," Chambers says, "but having such a sense of absolute futility that we finally admit, 'Lord, I cannot even begin to do it.' Then Jesus says, 'Blessed are you. . .'" (Click here for the full reading.)

Regarding the power of poverty, the media are on a pendulum: Publishing the story of a man who finds purpose through poverty on one day; and the next day publishing another man's struggle to regain his lost prerogatives and financial status. From such even-handedness, it would seem that either state is equally preferable, equally sustainable, and equally moral. They are not.

It is said that of all subjects, Jesus talked most of the subject of money. (The same could be said, of course, about The Wall Street Journal newspaper.) However, Jesus' approach to the subject was different from what many of us might take, which is to regard money as a "necessary evil." Jesus did not say that money was necessary (something The Wall Street Journal might say); and He did not say that money was evil.

To quote St. Paul, money is not the root of all evil; rather, it is the love of money that is the root of all evil, and the source of much human misery. (Click here for Paul's quote.)

The doorway to the rule of God in one's life is poverty. It is there -- and there alone -- where one finds freedom from the tyranny of fear, competitiveness and selfishness.

NIMBY at Work in Proposed National Health Insurance Plan

The phrase, "Not in my back yard" (a. k. a. NIMBY), is commonly used to identify an attitude of individual benefit at the expense of someone else.

One need not wait long to see this attitude displayed. For example, while many folks are eager to close detention camps, such as the one in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, few are willing to have Guantanamo detainees imprisoned in their home state. NIMBY.

The financing of universal health care coverage for Americans is the latest example of NIMBY. According to recent news reports, a couple earning more than $350,000 a year would suffer a surcharge amounting to between 1 percent and 5.4 percent of their income to raise funds for the health care plan. It is estimated that this plan would affect approximately 1.2 percent of all households, and would raise one-half of what would be needed to fund the scheme, with the other half coming from savings in Medicare and other health care programs.

I don't think much of this idea, and it is not because my wife and I earn more than $350,000 a year. We don't. I resist this idea because it requires only 1.2 percent of the population to contribute to a benefit received by the remaining 98.8 percent of the nation.

One definition of fairness is whether -- all things being equal -- you would continue to like a particular idea if the roles were reversed. In this case, government proposes to take more from one, small, segment of the population for no apparent reason other than it has the political and legislative muscle to do so without a fight from its victim. On the street, that is called "strong-arm robbery," and it is as illegal as it is morally wrong.

I do not mind paying taxes, whether of the general variety, such as income taxes, which support a variety of programs for our corporate benefit; or the specific variety, such as gasoline taxes, which go toward road maintenance and are more or less tied to how much one uses the streets and highways. "Render to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. . ."

What I see in the proposed plan is an attempt to pass a greater share of the cost of of a general benefit -- in this case, universal health care -- on to a sliver of the citizenry presumed to be more able to carry the load. For the higher tariff, I don't think that those who pay more will receive a greater benefit or more generous amenities, such as a priority line for medical appointments or expedited prescription drug refills. Nope. They will receive the same level of service that 98.8 percent of their fellow-citizens receive, except they will pay more for it.

In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus talked about fairness in a maxim we today call "the Golden Rule": "Do unto others as you would have others do to you." (Matthew 7: 12a)

Selecting a burden for others that we ourselves would not willingly bear may, by act of the Congress, be legal, but it can never be right.

"Angels and Demons": Hollywood Theology?

Several years ago, I heard a speech delivered by the Rev. Rick Warren in one of the break-out sessions during the annual National Prayer Breakfast event in Washington, D. C., in which Warren said that if Christians really wanted to influence American society for Jesus, they should forget Washington, D. C., and start working Hollywood.

The power of a good story is well known -- particularly by parents, pastors, pundits and producers. Hollywood, more than any place else in our culture, manipulates the power of this medium.

To be sure, there are many in the film industry who have taken Warren's advice, and are about the work of producing movies and television programs that reflect the Gospel message. The adaptations of C. S. Lewis' books from "The Chronicles of Narnia," is one noteworthy example.

Some weeks ago, columnist Ross Douthat reminded me of the potential power of a story in an article he wrote that examined the not-so-obvious themes in author Dan Brown's best-selling works: "The DaVinci Code," and "Angels and Demons."

"If you want to understand the state of American religion, you need to understand why so many people love Dan Brown," Douthat wrote.

Click here to see Douthat's thought-provoking article. I am sure that you will begin to see that both Douthat and Warren are on to something.

A Father's Day Letter to My Mother

Dear Mom,

Thank you for marrying Daddy.

It's not that you need me to thank you for more than 50 years of marriage (see photo from Golden Wedding anniversary reception in 1994) and six children (all of whom are living productive, independent, lives), but for all of the times I wanted to say it -- and didn't; and for all of the times I should have said it -- and wouldn't: Thank you for marrying Daddy.

It has been 10 years this past January that Daddy died with you at his bedside holding his hand. Since then, I have been acutely conscious of the greatness of the man you called by his first and middle initials: "L. C."

Based on what we see and hear these days, it seems that the average man is clueless as to what it means to be a real man. A few years ago, I was given a book -- written by a Colorado Springs "mountain man" -- that had become a bible in many gatherings of Christian men. No doubt, the writer was being handsomely remunerated for helping hundreds of middle-age "boys" to man-up. I just couldn't take seriously the writer -- or his writings. You see, I had been there, when I really was a boy.

A boy's perspective is a peculiar one. Everything seems too large to grasp, while at the same time strangely achievable. I first began to see the world from the front seat of Daddy's car.

He took me with him on errands, and on home visits to shut-in members of the church he served as pastor. He was my primary source for answers to my questions about the what and why of things I had heard or seen in those car rides.

I was his frequently reluctant partner in home building projects, my first being the erection of a swing set in the back yard of the parsonage in Hutchinson, Kansas. He also was like Moses (more the lawgiver than the wilderness guide in this example), who promised death (or, more accurately, the wish that one were dead) for lying, stealing, insubordination, and poor school grades.

Mark Twain once said that when he was a teenager, his father was the most ignorant man on earth. But when Twain became a young man in his early twenties, he was amazed at how wise his father had become in only a few years.

Like Twain, I am exceedingly grateful that Daddy lived long enough for me to realize how wise he had been all along; and for the opportunity to draw on that wisdom as I made my way in the world. I know that not all boys grow up in homes with their fathers. Death, divorce; or as is commonly the case today, unwed motherhood paired with absentee fatherhood, have created a situation that psychologists, pundits, and pastors work tirelessly to remedy.

As a man, I can see many things that I could not appreciate while a boy. First, Daddy loved you very much. I never heard him say an unkind word about you, and heaven help anyone who did. Second, Daddy was serious about his faith in Jesus. This is not to say that he lived perfectly, but he was unwilling to ignore or to change the standard, even when by the standard he had fallen short. Third, he was serious about "raising" his two sons into men.

In the Bible, it says that "as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." (Proverbs 27: 17) Yes, Daddy was often as hard as granite, and as unyielding as iron, but it was not without its benefit. Because of him, I know the value of honesty; the cost of freedom; the necessity of family; the benefit of a prepared mind; and the all-sufficiency of God.

And as the icing on the cake, because of him I know how to safely handle firearms, catch a fish, defend myself with my hands, cry when moved, and shave with a straight-edge razor.

As cool as all of this may be, it started with you. Thanks for saying yes to "L. C." Thanks for marrying my Daddy!

Love,
CHUCKY

Two Examples of Using What is Nearest to Bless Others

Two recent articles -- one in a daily newspaper, and the other in a magazine for aviation enthusiasts -- served as a good reminder to use what we have to do the Lord's work.

The first article featured a retired Navy physician, Anthony Martinez, who spends his days tending to the physical and spiritual needs of Washington, D. C.'s homeless. (To read this article, click here.)

The second article featured a Denver businessman, Jeff Puckett, who uses his helicopter -- dubbed "Prayer One" -- to get local Christian, Jewish and Muslim clergy; and local gang members into a place where they can begin to see the world from a different perspective. (To read this article, click here.)

These articles reminded me that we each have skills and abilities that the Lord can use to bless others. The shame of it is that we fail to be available; or we fail to be creative; or we devalue the worth of a gift shared with others in the Lord's name. (I am reminded of the account of Jesus' feeding of the multitude with a little boy's lunch, as recorded in John 6: 1 - 14, and in the other Gospels, too!)

Sometimes, what is nearest us is a possession, such as our checkbook. Sometimes, it is a tool we use in our work, as is the case for Jeff Puckett. Sometimes, it is a skill used in one setting that is transferable to another setting, as is the case with Anthony Martinez.

Today, consider what it is that you have nearest you. Then, consider how it can be used to bless others in the name of the Lord.

Torture: Were God in the Room. . .

Several years ago, while teaching "Ethics and Moral Reasoning" in the U. S. Naval Academy's mandatory sophomore-level course of the same name, I heard a recently-retired three-star admiral say that while he would welcome lawyers in a room where decisions about air strikes were being made; he would exclude chaplains.

Based on recent news reports, it seems the folks who were making decisions about the interrogations of suspected terrorists had the same idea as the admiral. (To read a New York Times newspaper article on the subject, click here.)

While acquiring legal, medical and psychological cover for interrogation methods that many -- if not most -- lawyers, physicians and mental health professionals consider both illegal and unethical; it seems the Bush administration, the U. S. Justice Department, and the Central Intelligence Agency were unwilling to consider the morality of how they "persuaded" our enemies to give-up information.

The admiral's comments were a candid admission that when God is in the room, people are compelled to behave themselves. 

I am not saying that a chaplain -- in any way, circumstance, or form -- is God. However, clergy generally represent a standard that is higher than what is merely legal, even if all clergy (and I am speaking from observation and personal experience) fall short of that standard in their life and in their vocation.

The 17th Century French priest St. Vincent de Paul reportedly wrote or said that a man in a hurry misses the things of God. Clearly, in the aftermath of September 11, 2001, we were a hurried and a fearful nation. And while it is good that our houses of worship, for a time, were filled with people seeking solace, guidance, and strength, there is now ample evidence that other Americans were inviting everyone but God into the situation room.

The admiral referenced above explained that with the chaplain came inconveniences.  For example, we might reason that there is acceptable risk in attacking terrorists who are in a building situated across the street from a school house -- unless our child is in the school house.  

When God is in the room, the captor becomes the one captured; the strong consider the position of the weak; and the means to an end are considered as seriously as the end.  At every level, the recognition of an authority greater than we reminds us that not everything that may be legal is right; and that just because we can do something, doesn't mean that we ought.

Piracy: The Devil's Hand is Tipped (Again)

Easter Sunday was a bad day for piracy.

With the rest of the world, I watched last week's events unfold 230 miles off the coast of Somalia in the Gulf of Aden.

Tuesday: A band of Somali pirates in a small boat hijacks the U. S.-flagged container ship MV Maersk Alabama. The crew resists; the ship's Master, Captain Richard Phillips (pictured), surrenders himself to the pirates as he orders his crew to a safe compartment in the ship. The pirates leave the ship in a life boat with Captain Phillips as a hostage.

Wednesday: The warship USS Bainbridge arrives on the scene. Negotiations begin to secure the release of Captain Phillips.

Thursday: Captain Phillips attempts an escape by jumping into the water, but is quickly recaptured.

Sunday: While under tow by USS Bainbridge, and in the fading daylight, it is determined that the pirates in the life boat are about to harm the captain. Three U. S. Navy sharpshooters positioned on Bainbridge's stern are ordered to shoot the pirates, which they do almost simultaneously. Three pirates are felled. The captain is rescued, unharmed.

A bad day for piracy, indeed.

Almost immediately, the usual collection of pundits and experts emerged to point out that the killing of the pirates would immediately transform what had been an ordered, purely commercial enterprise into something a lot more complicated -- and bloody.

Hold, for a moment, the compelling reasons for piracy: For nearly 30 years, Somalia has been a near-lawless nation; many of today's pirates were yesterday's fishermen -- before overfishing by Europeans and Asians made it nearly impossible for a Somali to make a living from the sea that didn't involve firearms and million-dollar ransoms; and the shipping industry was all to willing to play along as long as the cargo was safe and the insurance premiums didn't rise too sharply.

As before (see my blog from March 1, 2009), the devil's hand is tipped. The devil wants only to focus on the price of something; never on its value. So, it becomes okay to steal -- or even to be the victim of theft -- as long as it doesn't (pardon the metaphor) "rock the boat," or disturb the business model. Never mind that theft, kidnapping, false imprisonment, extortion, and bribery are always wrong -- and a cancer on society, commerce, government, and the human soul.

In the aftermath of Sunday's events, life in the sea lanes in and around the Horn of Africa may become more complicated for all mariners. Pirates may seek revenge on U. S. citizens. Other nations may attempt rescues as we did, with less rosy outcomes. But these are risks that must be taken for all who value some things -- such as freedom from fear and intimidation -- above its costs.

Easter Sunday -- which has its own narrative on the sacrifice of one for many; freedom from fear; and the elevation of value over price -- was, indeed, a bad day for piracy, in all of its forms. But it is a bright day for those who have seen the devil's hand (again).

"Resurrection" in the Dock

Okay. I will bite.

In the news of late is a story about a 22-year old mother -- Ria Ramkissoon -- who is charged with the murder by starvation of her toddler son. As twisted as it is that a mother would starve her own child, there's more: Ramkissoon has cut a plea bargain with prosecutors that calls for all charges against her to be dropped if, or when, her son Javon Thompson is resurrected from the dead. (Click here for CNN's account.)

There is a lot here on which to chew: The media's fascination with the tragic and the bizarre; the circumstances of the child's death; and the intellectually lazy manner in which complex subjects are disintegrated by reporters and their editors for easy consumption by the masses. And there is another subject that hovers and haunts this tragic situation: The plausibility of bodily resurrection.

In a post about this tragedy, blogger Gary Davis gives no quarter to the idea that the small cult to which Ramkissoon belonged is "Christian," or to the media's interest in resurrection without due consideration of the Resurrection. (Click here to read Davis' blog.)

If it is true that a sure bet is no bet at all, the Baltimore, Maryland prosecutors who accepted Ramkissoon's "resurrection" clause are not betting people, and their actions have put Resurrection in the dock.

Resurrection on trial is not a bad thing. Were it not for this intrusive reminder, most Americans might only think of God's most audacious act on the coming Good Friday and Easter Sunday -- which are yet more than a week away -- and not think of it again until the following year!

But there it is: The proposition that our life doesn't end with our bodily death. There it is: The possibility that as Jesus was resurrected from the dead, so will all who have lived be resurrected -- the faithful to life with God; and all others to an eternal existence apart from God. There it is: The wager of all wagers.

Unlike the Baltimore prosecutors, who have wagered without fear of loss; every person has a stake when the Resurrection in the dock. As the clock winds-down, and as we see many of our contemporaries pass from "labor to reward," we realize that, like it or not, we have skin in the game.

Easier Heard than E. F. Hutton

Once upon a time, there was a financial services company named E. F. Hutton & Company. In its heyday -- the 1970s and 1980s -- it promoted itself with a series of popular commercials that included the catchphrase: "When E. F. Hutton talks, people listen."

E. F. Hutton is not talking these days. Thanks to the acquisition and merger process, what, for decades, used to be the second largest stock brokerage house in the country is now a part of Citigroup, the private financial services firm that must rely on public money to survive.

On the other hand, God is speaking. Today. To you and to me. Speaking, in a language that is clearer than words.

Oswald Chambers wrote: "God speaks in the language you know best -- not through your ears, but through your circumstances."

To be sure, not everyone hears. Sometimes, we do not want to hear. Sometimes, we allow the din of living to drown-out His voice. Yet, God continues to speak. He speaks through His written word, the Bible. He speaks through the witness of His people, the Church. He has spoken, most definitively and finally, in the person of Jesus. (Hebrews 1: 1-2) He speaks personally to you and to me through our circumstances.

I do not believe that God prefers shouting to the conversational, but shout He will, if it means directing us toward the lifeline we've overlooked, or toward the path that leads to purpose and joy.

What is God saying to you through your circumstances?