4/11/2020

I’m watching POTUS get pummeled by the far-left press at a news conference and it reminds me of something I did when I was almost 10. Right there at the end of my first decade of life, I was introduced to politics by watching the Democrat Party Convention of 1952. What a donnybrook! I have never forgotten the man I was sitting with when this was going on. His name was Harry Hensley, a neighbor whose daughter Janet was in my class at school. He had suffered a stroke and was unable to do much more than sit and talk. So, I visited him. He really got animated and quite angry with these guys on TV. I seem to recall the floor argument was between Estes Kefauver and Adlai Stevenson, ultimately the candidate.

While working in retail for the first 20 years or so of my adult life, I was told often the two subjects to never talk about was religion and politics. Yet everywhere I worked, from a bank to a shopping mall, those were the two subjects which dominated conversations. Most times, I agree, it ended wrong to talk with the customer on these subjects unless he/she brought it up and it happened to agree with your perspective (I guess I should say you agreed with them.)

Now, I don’t care. Partly because I am far more discerning as to how to have that conversation with a stranger, but partly because I’m very confident and better versed in what I personally believe. This paragraph is being written to explain the SIMH today was “I Believe”—Elvis Presley version. His final, crescendoed words represent just how I Believe—can’t be louder, can’t be clearer. 

What I’m going to write about  later in this column, is the real education in politics I had thrust upon me at 15, but that’s later. My second decade of life was profound and filled with change and growth, then more change and more growth, etc. I don’t know if I can be brief.

At the leveling out age of 11, I became a Boy Scout. I don’t know what I thought that would be like, but in about two Summer seasons with two Scout camp trips, I had no desire to go ahead with scouting. I really can’t remember what I didn’t like about it, but I remember thinking we couldn’t seem to do enough of the things I liked! At one of the camps, a higher up in Scouting performed on stage, “Casey At The Bat”—his hands holding a baseball bat, his head sticking through a curtain whereon there was a boy’s baseball uniform sewed on. I never had heard it, I was enthralled with the poem, the performance, and the lesson learned: it hurts to strike out!—more later about that.

I had a hard-not-to-like teacher, Mrs. DeCoursey in the fifth grade; and in the 6th I had Mr. Deckard, who happened to be a Nazarene Pastor. He knew my older brothers, he knew my father very well, and he had my attention from the get-go. The greatest memories from my 6th grade are 1.) almost getting a whipping with about 7 other boys from a recess baseball-game squabble, but the best grade school teacher I had, Mr. Deckard spared us; and 2.) The same Mr. Deckard read to us aloud many, many days, as the last subject of the day. It is my personal opinion it is a great teaching tool to read aloud to students. It teaches the correct syntax verbally, for understanding how and why the author wrote. The very next year, I learned a smidgeon of how important that would become to me.

In those two school years (5th & 6th grade) I learned a considerable amount concerning the difference in genders: girls became a mystery to me. Oh, I knew some things, but I did not understand them. I wanted to, but I didn’t. As aging besets me now, I wonder how many possible friends I would still have from that timeframe of my life if I could have been more understanding, more amiable, less competitive: know what I mean?

Thanks for reading, the Elder

4/4/2020

Notice of Delay: The second decade of my life will likely be in print in the next blog, in couple of days.

A short time ago, singer/songwriter Bill Withers passed away. When I awoke this morning his “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone” was on my mind—the SIMH of the day. So, I read more about him and his family and his self-styled professionalism. He was my kind of man. He taught himself the guitar so he could sing the song in his head. Didn’t become a memorable guitarist except on his song. Then, he taught himself just enough piano to do Lean On Me. Never became known for his piano, either. He never had a manager for his career; tried one once for about two months, didn’t like it, never did it again. (Just a couple of other professionals like that and I really admire that independence. Joe Montana had none, he did pretty well. Walter Alston (former manager of the Dodgers, I think for 23 years) never had more than a one year contract, that’s doing your profession proud, right there.

Bill Withers was 81 when he died. With his wife, Marcia, they ran their business of his career like a “mom n pop” store. Simple, straight forward, just a retail store. I liked that part of the story, too. Just wish I had read or heard a testimony of faith in Christ.

Here we are in the middle of a pandemic, they say. OK, no point in arguing the semantics. There is a lot of suffering and a lot of worrying and a lot of speculating about it all, for sure. Personally, I think one of  3 things will happen: I will get the virus and die; or, I will get the virus and live through it, or I won’t get the virus. To date, and thankfully, Barb and I feel great and have no symptoms. Some very close relatives and a few friends have not been so fortunate, but I think they are all now in the recovery stage. (Please notice I used the term “fortunate” and not the term blessed—more on that later.)

There is no Scriptural (biblical) reason to believe this is what the Lord is allowing to wipe us off the face of the earth. Neither is any other pandemic, tsunami, earthquake, hurricane, tornado, flood, draught or anything else which might fall under the insurance company heading “an act of God.” The bible is very clear about what is left here for the earth and I want to make this very clear in the following paragraphs. You see, I believe the bible. I believe God inspired men to write it, both in the original autographs and in the King James Bible (and yes, I know the KJB has been compromised in some places. But, the text we rely on is still intact and very much alive and our sole authority.)

It is an ignoble and even ignominious statement on insurance policies to refer to the tragedies of the earth as “acts of God.” If any of the above list is an act to be blamed on a singular power, it is the blame of the Adversary of God Almighty which is noted in His word and referred to under about 19 different names. The ones which come to mind concerning all these things is “the god of this world” and “the prince of the power of the air.” The Lord Jesus called him the prince of this world and that old serpent and concluded he was to be beneath Him with these words: Get thee behind me, Satan” in Luke 4:8.

As the god this world, Satan falls into the category of having a good deal of influence on the goings on of the systems of this world. The very word “world” extrapolates out to be “how things work here” pretty clearly. So, I don’t wonder what our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is doing when I see the disasters, pandemics or other maladies going on: I’m more likely to wonder, “How long, Oh Lord, shall these things continue as they are now?”

If, when you study the bible, look at what you are studying in the manner suggested by one the earliest of translators: as it says it, where it says it, to whom it says it (shortened version of his quote.) You see, the Bible is a Timeline. From Genesis to the end of the book of Acts is very close to 4070 years. In the writings during that time, there are several references to how the world as we know it will come to an end and the Lord will make a triumphant return. During that time, several writers of God’s word are called prophets because they foretell how the Lord will “fix things” in the end.

The time element of the bible as a timeline continues in the last 9 books of the Bible: Hebrews through Revelation. You have to get through those books and look back and count the prophesied “end times” to see this, but it amounts to 1007 years. I know none of these 1007 years has occurred as yet because there is a prophesied event that starts the next segment and it has never occurred in all of time. It is the joining together of a man and a nation by confirmation of a 7 year plan and this has never happened. Something of the Lord’s plan is stopping it from coming about.

You might have noticed I left out the 13 books written by Paul in the New Testament—left them out of my explanation of the Bible as a Timeline. Romans through Philemon are not written in conjunction with an amount or length of time. Paul explains The Time he’s writing about without counting time. In fact, concerning the very next “heavenly occurrence” to effect the earth, he clearly states we don’t need to know the time (see 1Thess.5:1.)  Paul, according to 21 places in Scripture, is the “Apostle of the Gentiles,” and as such, he wrote concerning a church called the Body of Christ. That’s us, and it isn’t about a length of time. It is about today being the only time we know we have. (2 Cor.6:2)

In the book of Ephesians, Paul referred to this “time” as “the dispensation of the grace of God,” (Eph.3:2) and also as “the dispensation of the fulness of times.” (Eph.1:10) This time has no person anywhere any more favored than any other person. Neither is there an hierarchy in any order other than a manmade system of society or body politic. In bible words, “neither Jew nor Gentile, bond or free, male or female, we are all one in Christ. Therefore, it would be good for all clergy or ecclesiastics of any title in any organization to just drop the pretense—really. Probably won’t happen, but it should. Likewise the royalty of the world should drop their pretense, as well. Naw, that won’t happen, either.

How about us? You might say, “well I don’t carry any such things in my mind!” Oh? How about when you take stock of how you aren’t sick or you aren’t poor or you’re not in an undone state: do you say, “thank God, I am so blessed?” Really, are you more blessed than the poor souls who are sick and afflicted and being flung about by all these disasters of the world we spoke of earlier? Come on folks, you (or I) are NOT more blessed than another. We are all blessed alike: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” (emphasis mine).

We’re all the same, folks. And God has provided us with redemption through His blood, and the abundant mercy shed on us through Christ’s resurrection from the dead! (Join Eph.1:7 and Titus 3:4-7.)

Let’s learn to say a better word about ourselves and how blessed we feel. We can be overwhelmingly thankful the Lord has spared us from the activity of the god of this world, or from the perils of this life, while abasing ourselves to pray for those afflicted. 

But, the Lord has done something else we need to be very aware of: He has left us to our own devices. We should endeavor to follow the instructions of Paul from the Lord first, to consider our bodies are the temple of the Lord (God dwelleth not in temples made by hands—(Acts 17:22 Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars’ hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; Neither is worshipped with men’s hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; 

Read it all, folks. Look long and hard to see how the Lord wants us to care for ourselves while we look also for the way He wants us to serve Him.

A favorite passage for me has always been 2 Cor.3 through 2 Cor.7:1. It sobers me to my task.

Thanks for reading, the Elder

4/1/2020

Once again more than one song has flitted through my head today. the one I liked best came to me as I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living room. It was a song my father sang as he worked: “Precious Lord, Take My Hand—Lead me on, help me stand” “I am tired, I am weak, I am worn….” written in 1938 by Thomas A. Dorsey (not of orchestral fame.) It’s been song by everybody, claimed in arrangement by everyone from Elvis to Joey&Rory. A pleasing melody and message, and I think I prefer my father’s arrangement best.

Ever wonder what a recap of the first 10 years of your life would be like? Birth to 10—the days of my life – How’s that sound for a book title? Oh, not a very big book,… maybe just a couple of blog pages. Let’s see what I can remember. 

Of course, nothing about being born, although I’ve been told some things. I was told I came into this life about 7:45am, Sept. 5, 1942, the 8th child to a father and mother of Kentuckian heritage. My mother said my name was Jerry and my sister Roberta(18 at the time) suggested Ebert as a middle name and it stuck, however inappropriate it sounds. (All 6 boys my mother birthed were given middle names starting with the letter E: Elvin, after my father, Edward, after an uncle, then Eugene, Ellis, Emil, then me.) Born at home, in Johnson County, Indiana, on the side of a hill a few miles South of the little town of Trafalgar.

The farm was a hundred acres with the hill having several acres tillable on top and several “bottomland” acres along Indian Creek and Indian Creek Road. Rich soil which raised alfalfa, corn, wheat, with a few acres of rich pasture land. (I still love driving this 2 mile stretch of countryside when I visit there. The trip isn’t complete without it.)

My earliest memory after birth is of my mother carrying me down the hill in front of our home, sitting me down at the well, and going out into the field where two of the older boys (a teen and a twelve year old) were trying to disc a wet field. The horses couldn’t pull the disc through the wet ground and had laid down. Don and Ken couldn’t get them up. My little short(4’11”) stocky mother took those reins, yelled at the horses, whipped them, yelled, whipped, and suddenly they rose up! She led them out of the mud, yelled “Whoa!” slapped Don with the reins, and said, “Don’t you do that again!” Came back over to me, jerked me off my perch and led me back to the house. My only other memory of the team of horses was Don letting me ride to the water trough with him.

Don was the “farmer” of the bunch. When I was almost 5, we sold the farm and moved into town. Don had a jersey cow and found a “town barn” to keep her in and until I was 10, we had fresh milk and churned butter from the little jersey. My last memory of the farm was a neighbor boy, younger than me, was there one day and he stuck a little round rock up in his nose. My mom and his mom used pepper till he sneezed it out, as I recall. How’s that for an odd memory? 

Two pretty quick things to happen when we moved to town: I tried to turn a cartwheel like a little girl down the street did and threw my shoulder out of place. I was afraid to tell anyone till her mother saw it, a sweet lady named Mary Miller Kelly, who pulled me to her lap, stood me between her knees and put my shoulder back into place. I’ve wondered if that’s when I became left-handed, I dunno. The other thing was our dog, Tuck, got hit by a car. He was a great dog, but he was a farm dog, not used to cars going by so fast right in front of his house.

A sad note in this decade of life, happened when I was in the 2nd grade. My mother was very ill and had to be taken to the hospital one morning. I didn’t want to go to school but my sister made me go. I was noticeably sad, so at recess Mrs. Deer told me to come stand next to her. After a moment went by, she gently put her arm around me and stood quietly. Somehow she knew that was comforting to me. Though they wouldn’t tell me what was wrong with her, I later learned my mother had something wrong which was female in nature. I never asked again.

But, on a happier note my first two girl friends (I thought I was in love) happened between 8 & 9 years old. the 8 year old one was from Alert, IN, such a big town they had a post office AND a grocery store! I can’t remember her name now, but she sure was purty! The second when I was 9 lived really close to Lick Spring Baptist church, her name was Donna Ford. I saw her again when we were 15 years old, but I was too shy to tell her I had once been in love with her. 

For more than one year, but less than 4 years (??) my father was an evangelist with a tent. He bought a flatbed truck and a 40ft X 40ft, single pole tent and began to schedule week-long revivals in every town he could. I can’t remember how many he did, but a couple of days I remember really well about setting the tent up and preparing for the services. (We seemed to always have a piano, but I can’t remember loading or unloading it; maybe so, maybe no. I wasn’t very big, but there was always things I could do to help.

We’d unroll two halves, each 20 x 40 feet and lay them stretched out where we wanted the tent to be. Then, we laced them together (one side having a flap the whole 40’ length), then tie the flap down to stop as much water leaking in as we could. The pole (4 x 4 wooden pole with a large spike on one end) was placed on the ground so the the spike was at the center laced point. Then, someone small like me would crawl under the tent to be sure the pole would stay put in the grommet in the center of the tent while it-the pole- was slowly being raised up by all the strongest men in town would push and pull till the pole was standing upright.

The corners would then be stood up by corner posts, and a rope from the corner post top would be drawn taut to a stake driven into the ground at about a 45deg. angle. Smaller poles w/spikes were place all the way around the tent with their spike going into smaller grommets and a rope drawn taut to a smaller stake—I think that made the ceiling about 6ft at the edge and the center pole about 15ft high. We had side curtains which would roll up for ventilation.

My father had made portable benches by making wooden braces to fit with 1 x 12s for seats and 1 x 6s for a back slat. What held the boards up in the shape of a pew was the joining of two braces about every 4’ going across. These were called h and A pieces—the bottom of the A fitting in the back leg of the h and forming a triangle with the front leg of the h. For some reason it worked. I can’t remember anyone falling are any collapses. I never knew if this was his invention or he found it somewhere, but it worked. 

That wasn’t everything I can remember about the first decade of my life, so perhaps there will be more added later.

Thanks for reading, the Elder

3/28/2020

Just when we think there can be a great year ahead of us, just when all indicators seem to say, “charge! full speed ahead!” the interference from the “god of this world’—the devil, Satan, that old serpent, the Big Lie—that guy brings out another from his bag of tricks (this time it’s a virus, elusive of medicine’s grip) and uses it to grind progress to a near halt! We who know the Lord must step away for a moment and just reconsider some things which are absolutely promised to us by Him to Whom we belong. Let’s do that for a couple of paragraphs here:

Based upon the pure and simple gospel of Christ, “how that Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures, was buried, and was raised from the dead the third day, according to the Scriptures,” —1 Cor.15:3,4, we will take our stand and be motivated according to the promises being referred to in 2Cor.7:1. These promises of God are scattered throughout the chapters preceding that verse, as well as in many other verses in the Apostle Paul’s writings; promises expressly given to us, the church, the Body of Christ.

2Cor.1:3,4—(Enough comfort for us to be comforted and which will enable us to share the comfort with others.)

2Cor.1:21,22—(It was God our father who placed us into Christ and sealed us until Himself, then gave us His master teacher, the Holy Spirit.) Think of it.

2Cor.2:14—(Triumph means victory, in this promise is a foregone conclusion that how it is supposed to come out for us, we can expect. The devil’s interference may change the appearance, but not the overall conclusion.)

2Cor.3:5—(Reminds us to look for our sufficiency as coming from God, not some government entity or manmade security.)

2Cor.4:14-18—(Living here, we might notice the affliction and be brought down. But, the “lightness” of this world’s issues are set over against the “abundant grace” and makes us notice this is not eternal, our resurrection is eternal! So, down deep inside we are renewed and strengthened as needed.)

2Cor.5:7,16—(Hey! We walk by faith! Who do you trust? No man, not even Christ after the flesh. we are His in the Spirit, not the flesh!)

2Cor.6:2—(Oh. Just in case someone of you has never placed your trust in the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation, this verse reminds you that right now is the only time you have to do that: believe the gospel, trust Christ. He’ll save you now.)

2Cor.6:3, 14-18—(Verse 3 reminds us to not be offensive & verses 14-18 remind us how to not be, get away from those who would bring out the offense.)

These are just a skim off the top of all the promises of God found in these wonderful chapters of God’s word. Read all of it straight through, and remember, if you are saved, “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”—2Tim.1:7. Whatever we face during this interruption, remember who we are and Whose we are.

A few decades back Skeeter Davis had a hit song, “It’s the End of the World”—“why do the birds go on singing, why does the sun start to shine” and on and on…”Don’t they know it’s the end of the world??” That was the SIMH today, but I have to tell you, no. Nothing going on today is signaling the end of the world! When I wake up in the mornings, I simply think, “thank you, Lord, for the privilege of being here again today.” I may not know how long I’m gonna last, but I know where I’m going. Therefore, I know what my primary reason is for being here: it’s about my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Not about me, or you. I love many things I do, by His grace. But, they are never paramount. Christ is paramount. Catchy song, though my mind remembering the words is odd.

Thanks for reading, the Elder

3/26/2020

When you awake to a beautiful song which tells the story of true love, how can your day go badly? Let’s see if the classic romantic thought lingers throughout the rest of this day. The SIMH was “When You Taught Me How To Dance.”—performed by Katie Melua, a marvelous singer. She puts the feelings on the luxury of having been taught a fine art. You can make those thoughts fit many eye-opening experiences of our lives. It happens we are all looking for one right now: the experience of finding the method/cure for a spreading virus. A pandemic that is apt to reach further into the normal day to day life of each one of us than most of us have thought of till now, nor any we’ve seen before it.

Being taught “How to Dance” may also be applied to the skill of carpentry, the oratorical finesse of a master speaker, or the sophistication of a studied baseball pitcher, and many other skills not normal or usual. People refer  to these things as “gifts” (I’m not very sold on that idea) as though some special power or higher being or the God of the Universe has bestowed such things. Most times, it seems to me, someone taught that extra special person a skill, much as the sultry voice of Katie Melua says of her teacher in the song; “you must have been taught well…”

Take the old terminology for Boxing: “the manly art of self-defense.” I watched Cassius Clay as a teenage boxer preparing for the 1960 Olympics, as swift as a bird on the wing, then he became Muhammed Ali, the greatest boxer in a sea of great boxers! His slogan for one fight was “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” He did that. But, he didn’t in 1960, he had to be taught it. Or, and this is a better example than Ali, take the 3 great NBA players who (in my estimation) were the greatest rebounders of all time, considering their prowess versus their size. How did Charles Barkley out-rebound the entire NBA season after season being about 4 to 6 inches shorter than those who were his foes? He knew where the ball was going. And Dennis Rodman, the wackiest of ball players, how did he get the ball from rebound or a loose ball before the big guys or the fleetest of foot could reach it. Or Larry Bird, arguably the best player of all time, who could get rebounds and even shoot without jumping ( couldn’t get very far off the floor) and retrieve rebounds, recover bad passes from the out of bounds line, and even block shots when he was least expected to do it. How did Rodman and Bird do what they did? Just like Barkley; they knew where the ball was going. Was this due to some superior talent or art form handed down from God our Father? No, it was due to a learned skill. Phenomenal as it was, they all learned. Did they ever make mistakes? Good grief, yes! Today, we can watch past stars in sports through the composite lens, showing their exploits which never show the flawed moments. There were many. 

The song’s tie-in is to the exhilaration of having been taught our well-learned lessons! We all had a teacher, we all draw continually from that teacher. And from a purely Scriptural view, we owe “honour to whom honor” is due, according to Rom.13:7. It comes to mind of some I know who never acknowledge their teacher. I believe that will be a need to be ashamed item on the list when they face the Lord.

Blue Jug stores are all doing quite well this month. It has come to an interrupted moment, however, for a couple of us. Two of the 9 stores are temporarily closed due to special care not to spread the coronavirus. May be a bit too cautious, but better too cautious than too careless, right? 

But, the month is still far better than a year ago for all of us. A couple of new stores coming on are having a tough time getting leasing settled. But, I believe that problem will resolve itself partly due to the interruption caused by the virus. Some other stores who might be on the verge of closing will take this opportunity to extricate themselves from further losses, leaving more than usual vacancies and some landlords anxious to fill their spaces. It’s like an in-course correction in rentals—I’m expecting that.

Our April trip to Texas for a bible conference is going to have to be rescheduled for this same cause. Ah, well, ’twill be all the sweeter fellowship in due time, correct? I’m looking forward to when it can be done and seeing as many folks as we can in Texas!

Hoping you stay well from the evil one which lurks among us.

Thanks for reading, the Elder

3/7/2020

Morning! Surprise! I’m blogging two days in a row. That’s how this started back in August of 2018. Everyday. But this morning’s SIMH was loud and clear, as well as, odd. So, my thoughts came fast making me think I should write. (Sure hope this turns out good after this lead in.) “What a day this has been, what a rare mood I’m in, why it’s Almost Like Being In Love.” —from Lerner and Loewe’s broadway hit of 1954, Brigadoon. Most of that song is in my head. If I start singing it, the next lines just sort of roll out without much thought. Why? you asked? I wish I understood it.

There was always a certain cadence, sort of an expectorant pattern to music numbers from the Broadway musicals of the Lerner and Loewe, Rogers and Hart/Hammerstein, types of musicals. One didn’t have to hear them often to remember them. Think of Oklahoma!, South Pacific, Sound of Music, et al. We just remember them. Strange. (Personally, I think the only reason for their popularity fading has been because the world has invented a communication superhighway of (largely) useless information which fills our heads and our time so as to take us away from the desire for stage production entertainment.)

A few years back, a pair of brothers (sons of our friends, the Kirkpatricks) wrote the music for a new broadway musical called “Something Rotten” which was very well written and performed and turned out to be a very successful run in New York and now is still on tour. Big! But not South Pacific big. Or Singin In The Rain big. We went to NYC and saw Something Rotten and it was terrific. It just didn’t ring out the songs as if the “Hills are alive with the Sound of Music…” Know what I mean? 

So, what drives popularity? The “mood” of the people? The constant barrage of public messaging, either advertisements or news articles? TV sound bites? Or is it any sort of genuine need to know or need to feed off of, or am I missing the point of what is really good entertainment? Wait: why do we seek to be entertained? Why don’t we seek truth for our enlightenment?

You know, about 100 years ago an era came to an end which was quite remarkable. It was an era of intense study and research which brought about very detailed information still constantly in use today. 

The first of the Great Study Era (my terminology) was by Dr. James Strong, a Methodist Seminarian who through years of compilation completed and published Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible in 1890. Can you picture in your mind the kind of toil and fatigue this work would have given him? and it is said that both he, and even the next fellow I name, worked with only one secretary (though I couldn’t verify that from my research.)

The next publication through this sort of study was by Dr. Frank Charles Thompson, also a Methodist. Dr. Thompson started his great work of bible study systems called the Thompson Chain Reference Bible in 1890. He completed and published his work in 1908. He devised a numbering of words and/or phrases of like thought, taking sides notes to a massive comparable numbering at the back of all Scripture, then listing verses of the same or similar meaning, to aid the student in finding cross-references for his study enhancement. What a great work it was!

The third very popular and historically noted work in this era was by an American lawyer, not a preacher or a “divine,” just a student by the name of C.I. Scofield. He wrote the still available Scofield Reference Bible, a bible with Scofield’s notes running along the same page as the Scripture about which he wrote notes (separated by a “break” line on the page.) He first published it in 1909, then with revisions in 1917.

His notes brought a renewal of oft ignored Scriptures which brought emphasis to the pre-millenial thoughts preached so clearly by the Apostle Paul in Romans through Philemon, 13 books in the middle of the New Testament. Scofield’s 1917 edition also had added Archbishop Ussher’s calendar, adding approximate years from the 6 day creation through to the last New Testament books written. These things caused people to study along the lines of literal understanding of the bible instead of simply making spiritual application of many things.

Drs. Strong and Thompson, having a similar mindset, have become standard bearers to many young bible students for more than 100 years now. Scofield’s notes are a basic dispensational study aid to many people of all ages today. 

Along about the same time an American Baptist pastor named Clarence Larkin wrote and drew timeline sensitive and prophetic centered charts of bible activities and expected fulfillment of prophecy in an over-sized book called Dispensational Truth in 1918, with an update and alternate name, God’s Plan and Purpose in the Ages in 1920. His works always had elaborate explanations as well as detailed artwork. By trade, and before pastoring, Larkin was a teacher of the blind and an architectural draftsman. His works, also remain in use today.

One more author of this time who greatly influenced many students of Scripture and still does was Sir Robert Anderson. Sir Robert was a Scotland Yard detective and later a Commissioner in London, but was a noted bible scholar of his day. He wrote several pertinent books in explanation of both the way things are and the expectation of the Lord’s return. Sir Robert was after his conversion, a Presbyterian, but later became part of the Plymouth Brethren group.

Here’s an excerpt from a biographical sketch about the later years of his life (he departed this veil in 1918.)

He was especially close to some of the greatest biblical teachers of his day, including James Martin Gray, Cyrus Scofield, A. C. Dixon, Horatius Bonar and E. W. Bullinger. He also preached with John Nelson Darby in the West of Ireland. Anderson was a member of the Plymouth Brethren, first with Darby then with the Open Brethren party, before returning to his Presbyterian roots. He wrote numerous theological works: C. H. Spurgeon commented that Anderson’s book Human Destiny was “the most valuable contribution on the subject” that he had seen.^[5]

The two books of his which most impressed me to study the Scripture on the subject were “The Silence of God” and “The Coming Prince.” After reading what Mr. Spurgeon (a Baptist) said, I think I must read “Human Destiny” as well. 

All these men, and I could have added Mr. Moody, Mr. Darby, Mr. Bullinger and others, lived and ministered in this same era, from about 1880 to 1920. We have no other such era of great publicized personal ministry works. In my years of being a student and preaching the truths I see in Scripture, I’ve known many great preachers. But none in the mode of written explanation any where close to being as worthy as the Great Study Era—1880 to 1920. Many of you may say, we didn’t need them. OK. Granted, the bible was already in our hands. 

But in 1881, the great and true word of God, the King James Bible, began to come under an attack so vicious and so insidious that today, with over 100 false version of the bible, we who hold this truth are but a tiny minority in our world. These men and their works collectively can strengthen our resolve to be true to the Lord, as well as our dependence on the written and Holy Word. None of them ever usurped the word as an authority., nor made themselves to be somewhat.

Thanks for reading, the Elder

3/6/2020

“Comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb”—remember that old saying about the month of March? Well, here on the mountain it came in more like a salmon swimming upstream. We’ve had so much rain! The locals say they’ve never seen as much rain in the first part of the year. Personally, it is interfering with our remodel project making any real progress. Ah, well. Someday soon!

But the “lion” of the old saying showed up a few nights ago, across a wide swath of Northern Tennessee. A devastating and deadly tornado which, at last count had taken 23 lives and destroyed many hundreds of homes and private properties, as well as hundreds of businesses. We’re seeing an amazing outpouring of support from neighboring areas and, in fact, from all over the nation. We who cannot go and do can certainly pray. There is still a goodly number of people missing and possibly going to make the loss of lives even greater. Our prayers should be directed toward the families who mourn, the survivors who will be traumatized for a long while, and the dis-placed employees and business owners effected.

This morning we have sunshine, so we see the “lamb” of Spring in our minds, hoping to not again be inundated with rain so much as to keep our workers and ourselves from making progress. At least, we’ll enjoy this beautiful day! Maybe give us a taste of the promise of every Spring season—new life in the earth! It always lifts our spirit. 

Speaking of a lift to our spirits, the Gatlinburg Bible Conference last weekend  truly fit the bill for uplifting! A whole bunch of really great Bible lessons from good Bible teachers while enjoying the fellowship of folks from several states from Illinois to Florida! I especially enjoyed meeting the beau of a good friend from Virginia and seeing how genuinely happy she seemed. The young man also seemed of a great good-nature and glad to be in our midst: always a good sign, don’t ya know.

Met a couple of young guys from Southern Illinois who are making the rounds to Bible conferences this year, praying it is a wonderful experience for them and at each stop, they learn a bible application for the rest of their lives.

On the way to Gatlinburg, Barb and I follow the “back road” entrance to the Great Smokey Mountain Park which takes us through Maryville, TN. So, we were privileged to drive the long winding road alongside the rapid mountain stream, lazily ambling along while giant snowflakes come down (but not sticking to the road) and filtered through the bare naked trees to gently float down into the river bottom rocks—absolutely beautiful! We enjoyed it very much. On our way home Sunday, taking the same road out, the weather was warm and the sunshine gave the same scenery an altogether different hue and yet, that too, was utterly beautiful. Hope you can get that same joy from driving through this or something similar real soon.

Sunday, we stopped in Maryville at our favorite restaurant in all of Tennessee, Sullivan’s Downtown, with 5 of our favorite friends from the conference. Great food and fun conversation with this “Nation Wide” group: we live in Alabama, a couple were from Kentucky, one each from Minnesota, Virginia, and Florida. We just about covered the Eastern half of the U.S!

Next conference is just 70 miles from home. My brother, Jack Lockhart, with his wife, Nancy and their congregation host a Bible Conference next weekend in Arab, AL. Some of the same preachers will be there, but also some others, a couple of which are even older than either Jack or me. One is 87, one is 92, and this makes for some interesting studies, I guarantee ya! After that, the next conference is near the end of April in Round Rock, TX. That’s just North of Austin. We spent 27 years there, living just South of Austin in New Braunfels. I travelled and taught Bible classes, some around Austin and North to D-FW area, so we are looking forward to seeing many old friends at that conference, as well.

During all this time, our duties will include getting this house ready to sell and seeing to it that the contractors get the smaller home down the hill in Fort Payne ready to move into. Remodels always have surprises, but the rain has made this challenge stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. Nevertheless, somehow we’ll prevail, I reckon.

Stay tuned for more exciting tales and adventures in the “Elder’s blogging life!”

Thanks for reading,

The Elder

2/28/2020

It’s February 28th, but not the last day of the month! Tomorrow is a calendar oddity which only occurs once every 28 years: a fifth Saturday in February! Hmm, I wonder if I’ll see another one—I’d be 105 years old. Well, just had an old family friend die in Indiana at 107, so I guess this is possible. We’ll just have to see, right?

This morning, arising about 4:45 for no particular reason, I have a SIMH which is along the same lines: “We Shall rise, Hallelujah, We Shall Rise!”—sung by many. I listened to several groups (even finding my old favorites “The Chuckwagon Gang”), several choirs, even bluegrass versions. But, none as well as the Bill Gaither singers; they nailed it! Great song, it’ll be a great day, that “resurrection morning!” Hope you’re looking forward to it, as well.

Today, Lord willing, we are going to Gatlinburg for the annual Retreat Bible Conference. This is a fun weekend, very casual, laid back, at ease, yet filled with really good bible classes and teachers. We usually get to see folks we don’t see any other time of the year, too. A great treat! Maybe I’ll write a report about this when I get back. After all, this is not like going to Vegas where what goes on there, stays there.

Remodeling work is now moving a bit faster. Because we needed some framework changes, we actually needed to get a general contractor to bring his crew in to do it. The difference in a crew which knows exactly what to do, then knows how to clean up after themselves is like night and day to just hiring guys to do this or that, leaving only us to do the cleanup. This is much easier. We get to walk in, smile at the progress, give them a “thumbs up,” and go home (this is a smile on my face.)

Other progress to mention is more about the store. Blue Jug Alkaline Water and Health Market of Fort Payne is about 3 weeks away from having Butter Snob Baking “in house” and a more complete bakery for Fort Payne. The store will also become a destination for smoothies, protein shakes, coffees, teas, and Kombucha on Tap! I think the town will like what we’re doing. At least, we are getting customers used to the idea ahead of time—now if we can pull it off really well.

I’ve about caught you up on all the news. I gotta go pack. That wife if mine is anxious to hit the road!

Thanks for reading, the Elder

2/19/2020

Good grief! It’s been 3 weeks since I added to the “trove” of delightful words here! My only excuse (if one is needed) is I’ve been busier than normal. A couple of notes back I wrote about the Blue Jug re-opening after being closed for 32 days. While I’m not in charge of the store, I do try to help when hours need to be filled and that is part of the busyness. Another part is we have this project under way to get our present home ready to put on the market, while starting to remodel the house in old Fort Payne in which we will move. I’m not my own contractor, but we didn’t hire a “general” so Barb is very busy and often needs me to help her be the “general” in getting all the little things done, things we don’t want to hire anyone to do. Whew! Just saying that tires me out!

As to the Blue Jug, we’re really enjoying the location and the new products and “bakery” emphasis, which has meant new customers. This is all very delightful! Yesterday, we hosted a morning meeting of downtown merchants who are busy planning the cooperative activities for Downtown Fort Payne’s seasonal promotions and events. Of course, that’s in addition to being open as usual. We’ve gotten busier because of where we’re located and what we’re adding to inventory, both of which brings more people per day than we had been getting in the old location. (Frustrating as it was to be given a deadline to “get out” of the old place, we knew someday we’d probably thank them for it—that day is here already.)

Really looking forward to the day we can take pictures of the newly remodeled house and make a side-by-side comparison of the old and the new. It will be a stark difference, hopefully from old and tired look to renewed and vibrant. The exterior may take a while longer to makeover and so comparison pictures will be down the road a ways. But, we’re sure it will come out to be very comfortable and easy to care for, etc. This is more of a learning experience than we expected or needed, but we’ll get through it and tell the story a few hundred times, I imagine. We both like to tell the stories as they are remembered—we’ll need to keep comparing notes about who did what and what caused that or this. We might make a slide show and speaking tour out of it—sell tickets, you know?

Coming up in a few days (10) is the Conference Retreat we go to in Gatlinburg, TN each year. A great time of fellowship with a bunch of friends. Then, two weeks after that, my brother Jack hosts a conference in Arab, AL where we get to fellowship with some more long time friends and fellow believers. Five weeks later, we will go to Texas for a conference but with a couple of extended days, hoping to visit some old friends in New Braunfels and around. This could get to be an exciting and fulfilling Spring.

SIMH—Paul McCartney and Wings (post Beatles) had a huge hit called My Love about 1993, but this morning it was and is still rolling around in my head as though it was a favorite of mine. It wasn’t. But, as I’ve said before, I don’t seem to have any perfect or lasting control about which song pops into my head upon awakening. Just before eye-opening and hearing Wings, I was dreaming about an old friend in Texas coming into my house and sitting down and not being able to see me—then, boing! awake to Paul McCartney? No, I don’t understand.

Seems I’m just now beginning to understand all there is around here close for tourists to enjoy. Having made friends with the director of tourism, some adamant and strong willed people passionate about Little River, as well as some “old-timers” who know a lot about the 100 years ago era of Boom in Fort Payne, there is just a myriad of little showy and/or unusual things here. We have a well preserved Train Station filled with mementos, story boards and pictures of the glory days of railroading (as well as a miniature railroad museum;) a Hosiery Industry Museum (Fort Payne for many years was the “Sock Capital of the World” before NAFTA. Now that it’s gone, SCW may rise again!!), an 18th century Opera House, and on and on it goes—much to see. By way of a tiny commercial for Blue Jug Alkaline Water and Health Markets, these things I just mentioned are within my sight as I stand at the door of the store. Stop in to get the world’s best water and see all the sights at the same time!!

Then, of course, there is the mountain top experience: Lookout Mountain which runs from Chattanooga, TN, coming our way and on down another 40 miles or so to Gadsden, has many sites to see: Cloudland State Park (GA), then Mentone, then DeSoto Falls, DeSoto State Park, and then Little River Canyon Federal Preserve with more than one Falls, all the trails you’ll need to get worn out, and the Jacksonville State University Park Center—and that’s all up there. C’mon down the hill and you get to see the first batch of stuff I mentioned and more.

[Editor’s Note: the above two paragraphs were not an application for a job with the tourist industry—just thought you should know that.]

Thanks for reading, the Elder

1/28/2020

The times we are in make no sense. We have a nation of more diversity than anyone of any generation since its inception could have ever imagined. Yet it seems, that’s all we argue over. We are profoundly diverse in the marketplace; in the scope of all industry; in communities, towns, cities, states, and definitely on the religious front, we are all over the horizon! We splinter this way, then we go off in another direction. We’ve had denominations which split 4 times in the 20th century and are now considering another reason to split! I can’t say I actually expect this to get resolved or even noticeably better, anywhere or anytime soon.

But, it seems odd to me to be watching all these goings on in such a momentous year. Harken back 100 years: the first WW was over, America was working its way back to normalcy, facing such strange things as Prohibition, the Teapot Dome scandal and the soon coming death of a President. Sounds very tame to all that is going on today, right? By the time the decade was over, the “progressives” had found a scapegoat in conservative Herbert Hoover and was about electing the most detrimental president we’ve ever had—Franklin Delano Roosevelt—and we endured until he got us drawn into the second WW. I’m sorry he died before the end of his fourth term, it would have been an interesting, even if disastrous historical event to see if he would have been elected a fifth time or would have been finally defeated as he most definitely should have been.

When Roosevelt succumbed, the nation got a president who was not presidential, but a haberdasher! Harry Truman was a hard working Kansas middle-American with much common sense. He never thought politics was a seesaw and more than any other president, past or future, he really practiced the buck stops here! He finished the war with an earth-shaking event. And it was over. Everyone knew it. 

But, Truman’s common sense didn’t waver. Then in the 1948 election with odds soaring that he was a sure loser: he won. The second most notable thing in Truman’s administration was the limiting of presidential terms. Signed into legislation in 1947, it had to be in the form of a constitutional amendment and was the 22 Amendment passed by the states in 1951. No more long term presidents. An excellent law. 

When President Harry S. Truman left the office in January of 1953, after the inauguration of his successor, he and his wife Bess, got in their car and drove home. Alone. Later, he was approached for a speech and offered a sizable amount of money to come and speak. He declined, saying, “You don’t want me for a speech, you want the presidency, and it’s not for sale!” He was truly a man of the people, not much of a politician.

The most ingenious part of our founders’ finished product; our constitution, which is maligned viciously from time to time, but has only been actually changed about 18 times since ratified, is what’s known as the Electoral College. This is the true electorate. The individual states elect by popular vote their choice for president, placed on the ballots by the individuals themselves. (We are often too embroiled in “party” politics to notice things like this.)(When you enter the booth and look at your ballot this November, in many states you’ll notice several names listed for president, you can vote for any one of them.) 

Electoral votes for each state equal the number of Senators + U.S. Representatives that state has. The college therefore has 535 votes plus 3 for the District of Columbia, 538 total. So, to become president, one must receive 270 total Electoral College votes. This has been brilliant because it stops the few highly populated states from mass rule over the entirety the land. In several elections this plays a big role in who wins. The present “duly elected” president is one who lost the popular vote, but handily won the college. The Democrats have been yelling ever since. Hmm, they didn’t say “away with it!” when Wilson or Clinton won that way. Only when a Republican won that way, as did the second Bush and Trump. Oh, by the way, Lincoln won that way, also.

I’m writing all this with the current “election fever” going on and here we go again! The system doesn’t need to be changed, just accepted. Losers often whine and gripe. Don’t fret. If Trump wins, there’ll be a lot of hoopla. If he loses, the Republicans will just take it.

The SIMH today is from probably the last of the “crooners”—Eddie Fisher. There have been a few other crooners since and a couple of the older ones outlasted Mr. Fisher,  but in the popular era he was the last of the string. The song was “With a Song in My Heart!”—written in 1929 for a broadway show. My head had Eddie Fisher singing it as clear as a bell. However, there is no history of the song ever being song by him. Many others, both male and female singers recorded it for about 50 years after it was written, but not Fisher! So now I cannot trust the SIMH to be valid! This may send me mumbling into oblivion, I don’t know……

Thanks for putting up with the political rant today. Maybe the next blog will be more about important matters, or a good old story, or a sermonette by this little preacherette, to all you christianettes!

Thanks for reading, the Elder