Written, sung and programmed by Zoomer Roberts
From the "Quarantine Hymns" series
Recorded February 2021
Tuesday, June 1, 2021
Thursday, May 6, 2021
Sweet Hour of Prayer
Zoomer Roberts: vocal and harmonica
recorded June/July 2020
from the "Quarantine Hymns" series
David's Lamentation
From the album "Roadhouse"
Zoomer Roberts: vocalsSacred Harp singing isn't indigenous to El Paso, but thanks to the Smithsonian Folkways catalogue, I've been exposed to quite a bit of this ancient and intriguing music.
The words to "David's Lamentation" are from 2 Samuel 18:33 -- And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept: and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son! (KJV)
Death Is Only A Dream
Zoomer Roberts: vocal
Buddy Winston: guitarIn 2003, some of us local folkies observed the 50th anniversary of Hank Williams' passing with a celebration of his songs on KTEP's Folk Fury show. Since Hank's first wife, Audrey, was on record as saying that "Death Is Only a Dream" was Hank's favorite song, Buddy and I thought it fitting to include it in our portion of the program. We learned it from an old Stamps-Baxter songbook. We did the show live while my JVC auto-reverse cassette deck recorded the proceedings off the air back at the house. I've done my best to clean up the sound, but it is what it is. I'm putting it out there because I'll never sing it this well again.
Tuesday, May 4, 2021
The Fourth Man In the Fire
Jerry, Buddy & Zoomer
We learned this spirited song from a Johnny Cash album (the long-deleted "Strawberry Cake") and it was a staple of our repertoire for years. The story it tells is from the third chapter of the book of Daniel. The lyrics are:
Here is a story from the Bible we should know
A story about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
We hope that you'll find courage when temptations you might meet
For there's somebody watching who'll be strong when you're weak
They wouldn't bend
They held on to the will of God so we are told
They wouldn't bow
They would not bow their knees to the idols made of gold
They wouldn't burn
They were protected by the Fourth Man in the fire
They wouldn't bend, they wouldn't bow, they wouldn't burn
Now the prophet Daniel tells about three men who walked with God
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
Before the wicked king they stood
Now the king commanded them bound and thrown into the fires that day
But the fire was so hot that the men were slain that pushed them on their way
They wouldn't bend
They held on to the will of God so we are told
They wouldn't bow
They would not bow their knees to the idols made of gold
They wouldn't burn
They were protected by the Fourth Man in the fire
They wouldn't bend, they wouldn't bow, they wouldn't burn
Now the three were cast in and the king rose up to witness their awful fate
He began to tremble at what he saw
In astonished tones he spake
Did we not cast three men bound into the midst of the fire
Well I believe I see four men unhurt, unbound and walkin' down there
I see Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
In the fiery coals they trod
But the form of the Fourth Man that I see is like the Son of God
They wouldn't bend
They held on to the will of God so we are told
They wouldn't bow
They would not bow their knees to the idols made of gold
They wouldn't burn
They were protected by the Fourth Man in the fire
They wouldn't bend, they wouldn't bow, they wouldn't burn
There Is A Fountain
From the album "Roadhouse"
Zoomer Roberts: vocalsBuddy Winston: guitar
Steve Smith: mandola
This is yet another track from the "Roadhouse" sessions. It was my good fortune to have Steve Smith play mandola on it. Steve is a good improviser, but I wanted him to play melody in an old-fashioned way. He gave me exactly what I wanted, but it took a few tries. Playing simply is difficult!
Around this same time, Buddy told a woman at an Applejack gig that we were recording some hymns. "How nice!" she chirped. "Is it 'Amazing grace, how sweet the sound?' " She said the words with a lilt, almost singing them.
"No," I replied dryly, "it's 'There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel's veins.' "
"That's disgusting!" She curled her lips as though the crucifixion were a Stephen King creation.
There Is a Fountain
William Cowper, pub.1772
American melody, pub.1874
There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains:
Lose all their guilty stains,
Lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there may I, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away:
Wash all my sins away,
Wash all my sins away;
And there may I, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away.
When this poor, lisping, stamm’ring tongue
Lies silent in the grave,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save:
I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save,
I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save;
Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save.
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Apostle Paul Blues
Written by Zoomer Roberts
Guitar: Buddy Winston
Vocal and harp: Zoomer Roberts
Recorded 7 July 2018
They call me Apostle Paul, I'm a man of God
I've been stoned and shipwrecked, and I've been beat with rods
I got a hundred and ninety-five lashes from the Jews
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I was with St. Stephen when he drew his last breath
I stood there and held his clothes while they stoned him to death
He asked me nicely. How could I refuse?
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
On the road to old Damascus, I was blinded suddenly
I heard Jesus say "Why dost thou persecuteth me?"
Then He opened up my eyes and changed my views
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I met a boy named Timothy when I got back my vision
I said, "You can be a preacher too if you get a circumcision"
And soon we had 'em sittin' in the pews
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I write great, long epistles everywhere I go
It takes me twenty pages just to say hello
And twenty more to tell you what to do
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I went to a Grecian bath house, the place was full of goys
I didn't see no women there, all the men was shaggin' boys
I said, Grab a towel and I'll preach you the Good News"
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
Well I went down to the tabernacle just the other night
I saw a woman preachin' and I said, "Keep your women quiet!"
Then she hauled off and gave me such a bruise
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
They call me Apostle Paul, I'm a man of God
I've been stoned and shipwrecked, and I've been beat with rods
I got a hundred and ninety-five lashes from the Jews
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you!
Guitar: Buddy Winston
Vocal and harp: Zoomer Roberts
Recorded 7 July 2018
They call me Apostle Paul, I'm a man of God
I've been stoned and shipwrecked, and I've been beat with rods
I got a hundred and ninety-five lashes from the Jews
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I was with St. Stephen when he drew his last breath
I stood there and held his clothes while they stoned him to death
He asked me nicely. How could I refuse?
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
On the road to old Damascus, I was blinded suddenly
I heard Jesus say "Why dost thou persecuteth me?"
Then He opened up my eyes and changed my views
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I met a boy named Timothy when I got back my vision
I said, "You can be a preacher too if you get a circumcision"
And soon we had 'em sittin' in the pews
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I write great, long epistles everywhere I go
It takes me twenty pages just to say hello
And twenty more to tell you what to do
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
I went to a Grecian bath house, the place was full of goys
I didn't see no women there, all the men was shaggin' boys
I said, Grab a towel and I'll preach you the Good News"
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
Well I went down to the tabernacle just the other night
I saw a woman preachin' and I said, "Keep your women quiet!"
Then she hauled off and gave me such a bruise
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you
They call me Apostle Paul, I'm a man of God
I've been stoned and shipwrecked, and I've been beat with rods
I got a hundred and ninety-five lashes from the Jews
The Apostle Paul is a better man than you!
Wednesday, September 11, 2019
Zoomer's Sermon of 27 October 2001 ~ "Here It Comes Again"
Ecclesiastes 3
01] To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
02] A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
03] A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
04] A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
05] A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
06] A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
07] A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
08] A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Luke 13
01] At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.
02] He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?
03] No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.
04] Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them-do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?
05] No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."
Those of us who have been around for a few years have at least one thing in common: not much surprises us anymore. We've found out that our parents were pretty much right about most things.
For example, I remember one occasion during the late 1960s, when the war in Viet Nam was going full tilt: I tried spouting the Peace And Love Brother rhetoric of the day to my mother. She was born in 1915 and one of her earliest memories is of the soldiers coming home from World War I, and she gave me a reality check: as far back as she could remember there had always been a war. WWI, WWII, Korea. From HER parents and HER history lessons she learned of the Spanish-American War. From her grandparents she heard of the Civil War--or, if you prefer, the War Between the States, the Rebellion, the War of Northern Aggression or the Recent Unpleasantness. These, of course, are just some well-known American wars from the last hundred and fifty years. She went on to say that the Bible is teeming with stories of wars.
I thought she didn't know anything. All you have to do is not fight, I said. She replied firmly that life IS a fight. I didn't comprehend that at all. I had never had to fight--for anything--and I didn't see how the murky past had anything to do with the here and now. Many lessons lay ahead...
Many years later, when my father passed away, I experienced a moment of enlightenment in my grief--an epiphany: what I was experiencing that day was something my father had experienced back in 1947 when he lost HIS father. It had been experienced in every family and every household since the beginning of time. It was universal--and inevitable. And I remembered words he had once said to me: "Boy, you're gonna find as you go through life that it's one thing after another." That's a paraphrase--his actual words were considerably earthier and not intended for the pulpit. But it boils down to this: there is ALWAYS something to contend with.
Today's Old Testament reading was put to music by folksinger Pete Seeger and was a hit for the Byrds back in the mid-'60s. Back then I took it as a pacifist sentiment: "a time for peace, I swear it's not too late." Since then I've found that in order to REALLY learn about a song, you have to go back to the original rendition, which in this case is the Bible. Exactly what is Solomom--in all his wisdom--saying to us? Well, he's resigned himself to the inevitability of both good and bad things happening during the course of one's life, and for this reason some people say he's a cynic. Granted, he's not very encouraging in the "rah-rah" sense of the word, but it's heartening to know that what we're going through now is pretty much the same rigamarole our predecessors went through before us.
The last time I preached here, I was asked if I ever got depressed. The answer is "yes." I think all of us have our dark moments, especially since the events of September the 11th. I've heard it said that you can only be ecstatically happy if you are totally oblivious to what's going on in the world. We all know what's going on--both here and abroad--and it's a grim scene. There's a war on and people are dying. Our mail has been contaminated and our security has been breached. Towers have fallen on the innocent.
But just as times of peace end with the next war, so the current war will end with the next time of peace--although war and peace are always localized things. There's always somebody somewhere fighting over something: religion, politics, land, oil, greed, revenge, hatred. And whatever the root cause may be, everybody involved invokes the name of Almighty God and claims His endorsement. Right now, while we're all singing "God Bless America," a Jihad--a Holy War--has been declared on us.
Balancing the physical and spiritual aspects of life can get confusing--and complicated. Has anybody ever seen the film, "Sergeant York," starring Gary Cooper? Alvin York lived way back in the country and belonged to a fundamentalist church. When World War II broke out and his draft notice came, he sought exemption as a conscientious objector--only to discover that the United States Government didn't recognize his denomination! He retreats to the mountainside with his Bible to ponder his dilemna: "The Book is ag'in' killin,' and war is killin', so war is ag'in' the Book." He finds the resolution to this enigma at the other end of the Bible, in the words of Jesus, (which he takes out of context): "Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar̢۪s; and unto God the things that are God̢۪s." (Matthew 22:21) Alvin York joins the Army, goes to Germany, kills just enough of an enemy platoon to let it be known he means business, and brings the rest of them in alive. He returns to the hills a reluctant hero, and resumes his quiet life.
Today's reading tells us that life is seasonal, that some things come and go and come back again; that what goes up must come down; that everything passes. And like the seasons, there are beginnings and endings to everything--even us. Especially us! As every spring the birds come out and sing, it's always a new generation of birds.
One of the most important lessons I have ever learned came from yet another Gary Cooper movie, "The Pride of the Yankees." Since the World Series is going on, this seems like a good time to bring this up. It's the story of Lou Gehrig, the "Iron Horse," who played in 2,130 consecutive games before his career was halted by the debilitating disease which now bears his name. I took particular interest in this movie because for years I was mis-diagnosed with the same illness. At the end of the picture, Lou Gehrig gives his famous farewell speech, in which he calls himself the "luckiest man in the world;" and as he leaves the field the umpire calls out, "Play ball!" The game goes on without him.
Mark Twain once said that the reason we rejoice at the birth of a child and grieve at the passing of an old person is because we're not the one involved.
And according to The Beatles, "life goes on within you--and without you."
It's amazing to me that in the many centuries that have passed since Bible days, the only thing that's REALLY different about us is the technology. We can spot you from space and use a computer to aim a missile directly at you--unless you're in a cave.
In today's New Testament reading, Jesus hears news of Pilate--yes, THAT Pilate--mingling Galileans' blood with their sacrifices. Did they die because they were worse than other Galileans? No. According the historian Josephus, the Galileans, who were under the jurisdiction of Herod, were a rowdy and seditious lot; and they probably created enough of an uproar at one of the great feasts at Jerusalem to give Pilate--who was Herod's mortal enemy--an excuse to go in kill a few of them.
Jesus tells His listeners that it could happen to them, too, if they don't repent. And then He says, "those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them--do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?" No, but if you don't repent, a tower might fall on you, too. It seems that buildings fall on the just and the unjust.
Every joy, every blessing, everything good that comes our way is a gift from God. The darker side of life is a lot more difficult to comprehend--we tend to think that anything bad that happens to us is punishment for some real or imagined moral crime. Indeed, a well-known evangelist blamed the attacks of 9/11 on America's sexual behaviour. And some people think the AIDS epidemic is a manifestation of God's wrath; never mind that babies are being born with it. Being a color commentator for God is risky business.
In John 9 we read:
01] ...as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth.
02] And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?
03] Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.
Now, the asking of this question, "Who did sin, this man, or his parents...?" indicates belief in the doctrine of transmigration: that physical problems in this life are punishment for sins committed in a previous life. It was a widely held belief in those days that marks on the body were indicative of a sinful soul--yours or your parents'.
But our Lord's answer is, "Neither." Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents. This man's blindness has happened in the ordinary course of Divine providence to be the instrument of salvation to his soul, edification to others, and glory to God.
I can identify with this passage. I tend to think that what has happened to me was God's way of getting my attention. When I had two good hands, I was out in the honky-tonks every night, consuming massive quantities of beer and playing cheatin' songs on the electric guitar. Not that I think there's anything horribly wrong with beer or country music--that's not the point. The point is that I was doing absolutely nothing to help further the Kingdom of God. So a tower fell on me--sort of. And God pulled me from the rubble, dusted me off, and pointed me in the opposite direction. A time to pick and grin, and a time to proclaim the Good News.
Life is a package deal: we don't get to pick and choose which joys and sorrows will confront us. We get them all. Always have, always will. And along with some really high highs we get some really low lows.
We can choose to dwell on half of the equation--either half--but that doesn't really work. The point is that everything is cyclical. There is an upside to every negative and a downside to every positive. Just as we can't mourn forever, so we can't dance forever. And just as hilarity subsides, so does sorrow. Without darkness there would be no light; without sorrow there would be no joy; without ugliness there would be no beauty; without evil there would be no goodness; without hatred there would be no love.
Among all these variables on our spiritual journey--our road of life--is one Eternal Constant: God's Love for us. The God of Solomon is our God today. The same Jesus who taught the masses and healed the sick is our Saviour today.
And if God is for us, who--or what--can be against us? To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.
01] To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
02] A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
03] A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
04] A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
05] A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
06] A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
07] A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
08] A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Luke 13
01] At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.
02] He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?
03] No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.
04] Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them-do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?
05] No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."
Those of us who have been around for a few years have at least one thing in common: not much surprises us anymore. We've found out that our parents were pretty much right about most things.
For example, I remember one occasion during the late 1960s, when the war in Viet Nam was going full tilt: I tried spouting the Peace And Love Brother rhetoric of the day to my mother. She was born in 1915 and one of her earliest memories is of the soldiers coming home from World War I, and she gave me a reality check: as far back as she could remember there had always been a war. WWI, WWII, Korea. From HER parents and HER history lessons she learned of the Spanish-American War. From her grandparents she heard of the Civil War--or, if you prefer, the War Between the States, the Rebellion, the War of Northern Aggression or the Recent Unpleasantness. These, of course, are just some well-known American wars from the last hundred and fifty years. She went on to say that the Bible is teeming with stories of wars.
I thought she didn't know anything. All you have to do is not fight, I said. She replied firmly that life IS a fight. I didn't comprehend that at all. I had never had to fight--for anything--and I didn't see how the murky past had anything to do with the here and now. Many lessons lay ahead...
Many years later, when my father passed away, I experienced a moment of enlightenment in my grief--an epiphany: what I was experiencing that day was something my father had experienced back in 1947 when he lost HIS father. It had been experienced in every family and every household since the beginning of time. It was universal--and inevitable. And I remembered words he had once said to me: "Boy, you're gonna find as you go through life that it's one thing after another." That's a paraphrase--his actual words were considerably earthier and not intended for the pulpit. But it boils down to this: there is ALWAYS something to contend with.
Today's Old Testament reading was put to music by folksinger Pete Seeger and was a hit for the Byrds back in the mid-'60s. Back then I took it as a pacifist sentiment: "a time for peace, I swear it's not too late." Since then I've found that in order to REALLY learn about a song, you have to go back to the original rendition, which in this case is the Bible. Exactly what is Solomom--in all his wisdom--saying to us? Well, he's resigned himself to the inevitability of both good and bad things happening during the course of one's life, and for this reason some people say he's a cynic. Granted, he's not very encouraging in the "rah-rah" sense of the word, but it's heartening to know that what we're going through now is pretty much the same rigamarole our predecessors went through before us.
The last time I preached here, I was asked if I ever got depressed. The answer is "yes." I think all of us have our dark moments, especially since the events of September the 11th. I've heard it said that you can only be ecstatically happy if you are totally oblivious to what's going on in the world. We all know what's going on--both here and abroad--and it's a grim scene. There's a war on and people are dying. Our mail has been contaminated and our security has been breached. Towers have fallen on the innocent.
But just as times of peace end with the next war, so the current war will end with the next time of peace--although war and peace are always localized things. There's always somebody somewhere fighting over something: religion, politics, land, oil, greed, revenge, hatred. And whatever the root cause may be, everybody involved invokes the name of Almighty God and claims His endorsement. Right now, while we're all singing "God Bless America," a Jihad--a Holy War--has been declared on us.
Balancing the physical and spiritual aspects of life can get confusing--and complicated. Has anybody ever seen the film, "Sergeant York," starring Gary Cooper? Alvin York lived way back in the country and belonged to a fundamentalist church. When World War II broke out and his draft notice came, he sought exemption as a conscientious objector--only to discover that the United States Government didn't recognize his denomination! He retreats to the mountainside with his Bible to ponder his dilemna: "The Book is ag'in' killin,' and war is killin', so war is ag'in' the Book." He finds the resolution to this enigma at the other end of the Bible, in the words of Jesus, (which he takes out of context): "Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar̢۪s; and unto God the things that are God̢۪s." (Matthew 22:21) Alvin York joins the Army, goes to Germany, kills just enough of an enemy platoon to let it be known he means business, and brings the rest of them in alive. He returns to the hills a reluctant hero, and resumes his quiet life.
Today's reading tells us that life is seasonal, that some things come and go and come back again; that what goes up must come down; that everything passes. And like the seasons, there are beginnings and endings to everything--even us. Especially us! As every spring the birds come out and sing, it's always a new generation of birds.
One of the most important lessons I have ever learned came from yet another Gary Cooper movie, "The Pride of the Yankees." Since the World Series is going on, this seems like a good time to bring this up. It's the story of Lou Gehrig, the "Iron Horse," who played in 2,130 consecutive games before his career was halted by the debilitating disease which now bears his name. I took particular interest in this movie because for years I was mis-diagnosed with the same illness. At the end of the picture, Lou Gehrig gives his famous farewell speech, in which he calls himself the "luckiest man in the world;" and as he leaves the field the umpire calls out, "Play ball!" The game goes on without him.
Mark Twain once said that the reason we rejoice at the birth of a child and grieve at the passing of an old person is because we're not the one involved.
And according to The Beatles, "life goes on within you--and without you."
It's amazing to me that in the many centuries that have passed since Bible days, the only thing that's REALLY different about us is the technology. We can spot you from space and use a computer to aim a missile directly at you--unless you're in a cave.
In today's New Testament reading, Jesus hears news of Pilate--yes, THAT Pilate--mingling Galileans' blood with their sacrifices. Did they die because they were worse than other Galileans? No. According the historian Josephus, the Galileans, who were under the jurisdiction of Herod, were a rowdy and seditious lot; and they probably created enough of an uproar at one of the great feasts at Jerusalem to give Pilate--who was Herod's mortal enemy--an excuse to go in kill a few of them.
Jesus tells His listeners that it could happen to them, too, if they don't repent. And then He says, "those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them--do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?" No, but if you don't repent, a tower might fall on you, too. It seems that buildings fall on the just and the unjust.
Every joy, every blessing, everything good that comes our way is a gift from God. The darker side of life is a lot more difficult to comprehend--we tend to think that anything bad that happens to us is punishment for some real or imagined moral crime. Indeed, a well-known evangelist blamed the attacks of 9/11 on America's sexual behaviour. And some people think the AIDS epidemic is a manifestation of God's wrath; never mind that babies are being born with it. Being a color commentator for God is risky business.
In John 9 we read:
01] ...as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth.
02] And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?
03] Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.
Now, the asking of this question, "Who did sin, this man, or his parents...?" indicates belief in the doctrine of transmigration: that physical problems in this life are punishment for sins committed in a previous life. It was a widely held belief in those days that marks on the body were indicative of a sinful soul--yours or your parents'.
But our Lord's answer is, "Neither." Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents. This man's blindness has happened in the ordinary course of Divine providence to be the instrument of salvation to his soul, edification to others, and glory to God.
I can identify with this passage. I tend to think that what has happened to me was God's way of getting my attention. When I had two good hands, I was out in the honky-tonks every night, consuming massive quantities of beer and playing cheatin' songs on the electric guitar. Not that I think there's anything horribly wrong with beer or country music--that's not the point. The point is that I was doing absolutely nothing to help further the Kingdom of God. So a tower fell on me--sort of. And God pulled me from the rubble, dusted me off, and pointed me in the opposite direction. A time to pick and grin, and a time to proclaim the Good News.
Life is a package deal: we don't get to pick and choose which joys and sorrows will confront us. We get them all. Always have, always will. And along with some really high highs we get some really low lows.
We can choose to dwell on half of the equation--either half--but that doesn't really work. The point is that everything is cyclical. There is an upside to every negative and a downside to every positive. Just as we can't mourn forever, so we can't dance forever. And just as hilarity subsides, so does sorrow. Without darkness there would be no light; without sorrow there would be no joy; without ugliness there would be no beauty; without evil there would be no goodness; without hatred there would be no love.
Among all these variables on our spiritual journey--our road of life--is one Eternal Constant: God's Love for us. The God of Solomon is our God today. The same Jesus who taught the masses and healed the sick is our Saviour today.
And if God is for us, who--or what--can be against us? To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.
Friday, July 6, 2018
Zoomer's sermon of 24 June 2018: "Forty Some-Odd"
(KJV) Genesis 7:12 And the rain was upon the earth forty days and forty nights.
My friends, the Word of the Lord.
Hope that Scripture wasn't too drawn-out and complicated for you! Sometimes you set out to write on a topic and discover you've bit off more than you can chew. I was going to list all the Bible stories that last for forty days -- or forty years. I was going to go into great depth about Noah and the Ark; Moses and the Children of Israel in the wilderness for forty years, and how their journey was spiritual as well as geographical; Jesus spending forty days in the wilderness and being tempted by Satan. I was going to extrapolate on them, compare them, discover the common denominator, and present the result to you as a revelation.
Well, it would have to be a book. Or a series of sermons. Because forty is in there a LOT!
When the Bible says forty, does it mean exactly forty? Well, sometimes the answer to a Bible question is "It depends on who you ask." Sometimes forty means "many." According to some scholars, Moses is said to have spent 40 years in the wilderness because that's about how long it would take for the original generation to die off and a new one to come up. It's probably "about" 40 years. Or maybe just "years!"
One of my 'guilty pleasures' is watching historical documentaries. The reasons are threefold: It's as close to a time machine as I'll ever get. I can witness events that happened before I even got here. I can listen to voices that fell silent long ago. History helps me to understand the present, and makes me realize that our idealized past wasn't all that ideal. [We have ugly, mud-slinging Presidential campaigns. So did Jefferson and Adams.] And best of all, we already know how history resolves itself. The North wins the Civil War. Lindbergh's plane makes it all the way to France. Glenn Miller's plane doesn't. The Allies defeat the Axis. Truman defeats Dewey. There's not much nail-biting involved.
Of course, any era segues into something else, and we always wind up in the present. We don't know how current events are going to play out...
Time is a funny thing. It can be arbitrary or precise. They hit us over the head with the importance of punctuality in school. If you weren't in your seat when the bell rang, you were TARDY! Your punishment was Detention! You had to stay there an hour later than you planned. Starting time was carved in marble. Time of departure was a variable. [Or at least that's the way it was in MY day, by cracky!]
Seemingly random approximations seem to dictate our own comings and goings. Always have. That's why we say things like "noonish."
Like the old joke about the sheriff in a small town who saw a stranger and decided to run him in for vagrancy:
Hey, stranger. Do you work?
Now and then.
Where?
Here and there.
What do you do?
This and that.
Well, you're goin' to jail.
When will I get out?
Sooner or later!
Anybody here ever had a doctor's appointment? Any of you show up at the right time, only to find yourself cooling your heels in the waiting room for a long time? Of course! We expect it! I'm not trying to denigrate doctors. They've saved my life at least three times. And they don't know who's gonna walk in with what or how much time they'll take up. So I always take a book. If I'm working on a sermon, I take a study Bible and pore over the footnotes. Otherwise, I'm inching my way through the Life of Ty Cobb. They tell you when to be there, but not when you'll be free to leave.
That's pretty much what God did to Noah. He told Noah when the rain would start, and how long it would go on, but He didn't say anything about how long he would have to stay in the ark. God didn't tell him how long it would take for the water to go down and for the ground to dry. [That's all spelled out in Chapter 8.]
Noah was in the ark for a year. He didn't have a book, either.
Our own crises are like that. God promises they'll pass, but He doesn't say when.
Noah found grace in the eyes of the LORD. God found him righteous. But what God gave Noah wasn't so much a kindness as it was a huge, unpleasant task. Noah's salvation was punishment. A year of hard work, discomfort, and frustration.
First, he had to build the ark to God's specifications [which are recorded in Genesis 6:13-16, if you want to read them]. The measurements are in Cubits, which is about the length of your forearm OR the distance from tip of your middle finger to bottom of your elbow. It is to be built out of gopher wood. How big was it? Oh, about the length of one-and-a-half football fields, and about four stories tall. It had three decks, and the decks had rooms. That's a lot of gopher wood!
I saw a film many years ago called In Search of Noah's Ark, wherein a model ship was built as per Biblical specs and placed in an aquarium. Guess what? It floated!
The Bible doesn't spell out the nature of life on that boat. It doesn't have to. Eight people, four couples. Wives, husbands and inlaws in each other's faces. It would've been like the Diary of Anne Frank in a floating farm. Noisy, smelly, sliding around, shoveling food, shoveling farm bi-products. Tension. Anxiety. In some versions of the story, Noah didn't sleep a wink the whole time he was in the ark.
There's a big difference between reading about it or watching it years after the fact and actually being in the middle of it as it unfolds. We can read the story of Noah with no anxiety or nail-biting because we know how it ends. Noah et al didn't. Neither did anybody not aboard the ark.
We all have periods of discomfort, grief, monumental tasks, infirmity, uncertainty. Times of trial, or testing, or searching, or waiting. We don't know how long it will last. Forty days? Forty years? A long time? A little while?
WE all have epiphanies -- realizations of truth or knowledge -- as we go through life. Scripture that manifests its meaning through our own experiences. Lessons learned.
The lesson we can learn from this old, old story is that God will not abandon us. [He promised not to flood the whole world again.] Just because our forty years feels like hard work and punishment, that doesn’t preclude it from being the work of God's grace in our lives. Things will get better. In His time. Amen.
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