TAMMY

 "For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk, and not of strong meat."  (Hebrews 5:12)

Today is Tammy's "Memorial Service" in Framingham.  Tammy died in mid-July.  It's a long story but I'm going to attempt to tell that story here.  

(I'm at my sister's in Canton.  It's about twenty-three miles to Tammy's service.  I had every intention of attending today.  But the weather forecast is calling for torrential rain and possible flooding.  The forecast has actually improved from what the weather folks were saying last night.  Last night it was "Four inches of torrential rain and flooding".  This morning it's "Two inches of torrential rain and slight chance of flooding".   My 2001 Toyota takes in water any time it rains!  And I've driven the car through flood waters twice in the past three years.  Regretfully, I "chickened out" and decided to stay here.)

Every pastor has a few "Tammys".  The "Tammys" take up eighty percent of their ministry time, and the average church people get the remaining twenty percent of the pastor's time.  Tammy wasn't a bad person.  In fact, there's a lot about Tammy that was likable.  Some might call her a "tragic figure".  Some might call her "an enigma".

Our church moved around between several locations during the twenty-three years I was the pastor.  In 1994 we purchased a building at 32 South Street Framingham.  On the "moving in" weekend in late October that year a couple of young girls in the congregation told me they'd met an excited young woman named Tammy walking by.  The said she'd asked "Is this going to be a Pentecostal church?"  When Tammy was told "Yes" she was quite excited.

Tammy lived in a housing complex for elderly and disabled folks just around the corner from the church building.  Sometime during the autumn of 1994 I met her on one of her walks by the church property.  She was attending a fairly large church (for New England) in a nearby community.  Their church van picked her up early every Sunday morning.  I think it was in 1997 that Tammy decided she'd rather try attending our church since it was only a five minute walk away.  Tammy soon became a Member.  She attended the church right up to its closing in March 2010.

Yes, Tammy was an enigma.  She'd lived in a group home in her late teens and early twenties.  The van from a large mainstream evangelical church picked her up for church in those days.  She'd been placed in a Sunday School Class for "Special Needs" adults.  Tammy told me the "R" word was often used to describe her.  Honestly, she had some disabilities (she was diabetic, for instance) and she was emotionally unstable, but I wouldn't have used the "R" word to describe her.

Tammy would talk about "my so-called family" and "my sister, Tammy".  Yeah, it got confusing!  One time I asked Tammy about this.  Where did she grow up?  Who was her family?  How many siblings did she have?  Wow.  I was pretty surprised at the responses.  Tammy grew up just outside Worcester, MA.  She was a baby left in a basket at a doorstep!  I didn't think that happened anymore.  I guess there was a note left with her.  Tammy had a French last name, but it was her adopted name.  Her original first name was "Brenda" and she had a Polish birth name.  She had an (adoptive) brother who lived in Texas.  One of her adoptive parents died.  The surviving parent remarried.  The family of the person who'd been the second spouse of one of her adoptive parents was Tammy's "so-called family".  Her "sister, Tammy" was part of that family.  I'd say Tammy read and understood on an average fifth-grade level, but she was a high school graduate!  In fact, she attended a vocational, technical high school.  Like so many, she was "socially promoted" through the grades.  I'm not sure what her "trade" was but I think it was "culinary".  Tammy had worked at a department store for awhile before I knew her.  She just couldn't cope with having a job.  Frankly, I can't imagine that Tammy would ever have handled having a boss very well!  She was on "Disability", and had all the benefits of being on "Disability".  She did have to be reevaluated regarding housing and benefits every year.  She hated that!

Tammy called me all the time when I was her pastor!  She would break down emotionally about the most unimportant and insignificant things.  She took everything that happened in her life very personally.  I will say she was usually pretty faithful about attendance.  She seldom missed Adult Sunday School or Sunday Morning Service or Midweek Prayer Meeting.  And when I sometimes offered a Friday night Bible Study, she'd rarely miss that.  She took in a lot of information!  But she never changed.  Not really.  The Tammy who came into the church in the late 1990s was the same one who was there in March of 2010.  If I had to state how much she'd grown and developed spiritually over those many years, I'd have to answer "Not at all!"  That's why I opened with Hebrews 5:12.  As a pastor I wonder about that.  I once told Tammy at a Friday night Bible Study, "If you'd really get into God's Word and really be led by the Holy Spirit and really pray and really get serious with God, ten years from now you could be teaching a Bible Study for the disabled!"  And I meant it.  But that never happened.

I last saw Tammy one week before she died.  I went to the rehabilitation center where she'd been for several weeks.  I didn't know they were about to take her off-site for a dialysis treatment.  So, I only had five minutes with Tammy.  She always called me "Pastor Bob" and that's how she addressed me.  She was very happy to see me.  It was a nice, albeit way too short visit.

After she passed I wondered if there was a favorite Christian worship song she'd had.  And there was.  It was "Light the Fire Again" which was a popular worship song from the 1990s first sung in Vineyard churches.  Once she told me that a line in that song really got to her!  The line was:  "I Need Your Discipline".  She knew she needed a much more disciplined Christian life.  But, again, she didn't progress as a Believer.

A couple weeks ago, I was driving along Route 27 in Medfield, MA and listening to an oldies station on the radio.  A song from either the forties or the fifties came on.  The song: "Tammy's In Love".   I thought of this Tammy.  First, honestly, I started laughing.  Then after a minute or so, I felt like crying.

The important thing is Tammy knew Jesus.  Tammy loved Jesus.  Jesus loved Tammy.  Tammy's in Heaven.  Yes, that's what's important.

SUCCESS??

"Well done, good and faithful servant... enter thou into the joy of thy lord."  (from Matthew 25:23)

There's a sort of humorous communication which happens at the barber shop each time I get a haircut.  When one of the barbers finishes the haircut, I smile and enthusiastically announce "Success!" and the barbers chuckle!

But what is success - really?  This has been a very reflective few days for me.  My missionary daughter Amy was Ordained to the Assemblies of God ministry this past Sunday night.  I'm very proud of Amy and her husband David, and all of the wonderful works they do in Papua New Guinea.  Ironically I was Ordained in May of 1985 just five days before Amy was born!  As my late father used to ask, "Where does the time go?"  

Speaking of my father and mother, they were very "old school" in so many ways!  My father especially was the epitome of practical and sensible.  He had to endure the frustration of having a firstborn son who not only was not good at sports and had no mechanical ability, but also was in many respects an idealistic dreamer.  My idealistic dreamer stuff really frustrated both of my parents.  When I "got saved" as a teenager my mother (who was a devout Catholic) told me I was "too religious"!  My father just kind of shook his head regarding his Bible-studying and unrealistic son.

After I got out of Bible College and became a credentialed minister, I so wanted them to see me become "successful".  I wanted them to see that I was more than an idealistic and crazy dreamer.  One of the facts of my life that saddens me is they never really did experience me being "successful".  I pastored a small, struggling church where things constantly went wrong.  They loved my wife and they loved their grandchildren.  But "Bobby" was still this guy chasing dreams like the character Ray in Field of Dreams.

The church's closing by the Assemblies of God in 2010, and the embarrassment and criticism I endured because of that closure honestly still bother me.  One of my ecclesiastical superiors told me at the time that I "was in the wrong seat on the bus" and I was "not lead pastor material".  I hate that term lead pastor.  I deliberately never use it.  I first heard it during the the mid-1990s.  Today in church circles you hear it all the time.  The term began with evangelical organizations, but now even the most theologically liberal churches use the terms lead minister and lead pastor.  I wish the Assemblies of God would give that term "lead pastor" a decent burial!  We've all got ideas about what a "leader" is supposed to be like.  At the Ordination service on Sunday night, Superintendent Nick Fatato presented a number of principles based on the books of First and Second Timothy.  Those bible books are among the Pastoral Epistles.  Paul was writing to the young man Timothy to encourage and mentor him.  Timothy was sent to do pastoral ministry in the church at Ephesus which was a very tough church to pastor!  Timothy was young, somewhat inexperienced, timid, a nervous person with stomach issues, and had largely grown up under the spiritual tutelage of his mother and grandmother.  Now, think about this:  If he was applying for Ordination today, would he be Ordained without hesitation?  If he were being considered to be the "lead pastor" (I need to get a grip after using that term!) of a challenging and difficult church, would our modern Presbyters and leaders in the Assemblies of God be for that or against that?  Would they say he was "getting into the wrong seat on the bus"?  Yet, God called Timothy!  Actually, I think today's officials might have accepted him because he came with such a strong recommendation from the Apostle Paul!  In the late 1950s God sent a skinny young preacher from rural Pennsylvania to reach the tough teenage and young adult street gang members of New York City!  True story - At the time some Assemblies of God officials wanted to "remove his credentials" but one Presbyter stopped that.  That skinny young guy was David Wilkerson and we know the miraculous story of The Cross and the Switchblade.

Several decades ago an Assemblies of God pastor and his wife told me they believed I have a "Forerunner's Anointing".  They gave me material about what that meant.  They encouraged me and believed in me.  (That couple were Bob and Donna Harris who pastored in Clinton, Mass.)  They were right!  I was in many respects an "Elijah" to my daughter Amy who is in many ways my "Elisha".  If you don't know the story of Elijah and Elisha it's all in First and Second Kings in the Bible.  People with a Forerunner's Anointing precede the way for someone who will have a far greater ministry.  Elijah took on the 450 prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel and they were defeated.  Yet, just a short time later Elijah became very depressed and told God he did not want to live.  John the Baptist is a powerful example of a man with a Forerunner's Anointing, as he "prepared the way" for Jesus' earthly ministry.  People with a Forerunner's Anointing will do great and mighty exploits for God.  Yet, they're also prone to doubt, depression, and despair.  In Matthew chapter 11, John the Baptist who had been imprisoned sent messengers to Jesus asking if He was really the Messiah.  Considering he saw the Holy Spirit descend like a dove and heard the voice of God the Father announcing who Jesus was; well, you'd think he wouldn't have to ask Jesus such a foolish question.  Again, it all goes with the Forerunner's Anointing.  Would any of you want to tell Elijah or John the Baptist they were "in the wrong seat on the bus"?

There was a great woman of God who died in 2014.  She was a public figure.  I don't want to "drag her name through the mud" or write anything which would be hurtful to her surviving four sons, so I will just use her initials:  A.K.A.  

A.K.A. was an evangelical Christian motivational speaker and inspirational author.  She was very "big" in the 1970s.  Her books are great.  Her speeches were great.  She helped, inspired, and motivated countless numbers of Christians.  During the 1970s she was a spectacular success.  In the early 1980s she married a farmer who has been described as her "exact opposite".  They tried to have kids, but for some reason she was not able to get pregnant.  They ultimately adopted four sons, getting each kid as an infant.  A.K.A. and her husband (for whatever reasons) had a very bad marriage.  The farm failed.  They faced financial ruin.  He got cancer and died.  There was no life insurance.  She was left with four teenage boys.  She went through some tough stuff with at least two of the boys.  Life was very hard.  And a couple of years prior to his death, she'd been admitted for over a week to a detox center due to addiction to prescription medicines.  I wonder if A.K.A. had a Fourunner's Anointing?  Like Elijah and John the Baptist she won great spiritual victories and walked with God, and like them, and me, she sometimes got into a very bad place.

Online I found her blog!  Specifically I found an entry from 2009.  She poured out her heart writing about the difficulties she'd had raising her sons, but bringing it all around to praising God for His faithfulness and encouraging her readers who were going through tough times that things were going to be OK!  Boy, did I relate to her!  Five years after she wrote that blog post, she died of cancer, penniless.  Tell me, do you think she was a success or was she a failure?  We do have female pastors in the Assemblies of God.  Was she "lead pastor material"?

I've presented some "tough stuff" in this piece.  Lest anyone misunderstand, I'm actually in a very good place today!  Like A.K.A.  I've been in some tough places!  But like A.K.A.  (and Elijah and John)  I have experienced profound spiritual victories that I did not deserve but that God brought!  Like A.K.A.  I sit here writing a blog and hoping someone reads and becomes blessed, motivated, and inspired by what I'm writing!

Who or what is a "Success"?  It's the person to whom the Lord will say these words:

"Well done, good and faithful servant... enter thou into the joy of thy lord."

THE WORST EXPERIENCE AND WORST WEEKEND OF MY LIFE

"For he supposed his brethren would have understood how that God by his hand would deliver them:  but they understood not."  (Acts 7:25)

I expect this one to surprise every reader.  I wish I could offer a fabulous prize to anyone who could guess what the worst experience and worst weekend of my life was.  I can't.  But I'm not worried about it because even if there were five hundred guesses, no one could ever figure it out.  There have been many horrific experiences of my life.  My brother's death in 1983 was shocking and terrible.  Each of my parents' deaths were "awful" as the late Don Imus used to say.  As a little kid I got conned by a peer into handling an emergency fire box and pulling a false alarm.  I got caught.  That was horrible.  In fact, one time when I spoke to the elementary school kids at New Covenant Christian School Chapel I told that story!  Maybe if you'd really like to hear it, I'll tell it another time.  When the church I'd pastored for twenty-three years was closed and in many ways I was discredited and embarrassed, that was bad.  But none of the things I've mentioned in this paragraph are what I'm revealing here and today.

This "worst experience" happened in early February of 2014.  It's about the death of a good friend.  I wish I could tell you his name and I wish I could tell you all the details of my relationship with him.  Before you finish reading this post, you'll understand why I can't.  I have to give my friend a made-up name.  So I'll call him Derek Sanderson.  No, my friend was not a hockey player!  I just pulled that name out of the air!  Derek Sanderson was a very successful and fairly well known evangelical Christian pastor in the Boston area in the 1980s.  He wasn't famous like Jimmy Swaggart, but he was a lot more well known than Bob Baril!  My relationship with him in the '80s was, well challenging and difficult, honestly.  We were very different personalities.  I tended to have a poor self-image and lack confidence.  He honestly had kind of a Donald Trump persona - without the profanity, that is!

In the 1990s, things went very askew in his life.  He walked away from pastoring.  He walked away from his family.  He essentially walked away from God.  He established a whole new and different life for himself in a distant state.  Ultimately, he was convicted of committing a serious federal crime and spent a couple years in a federal prison.

I was not in touch with Derek Sanderson during all that stuff.  In fact I was not in touch with him at all for probably at least ten years.  Early in the 2000s, he reappeared in Massachusetts.  He was working at a secular job.  He mostly was keeping a very low profile - which for him was quite a radical change.  I was very surprised when I received an invitation from him to a very special event - I think this was sometime in 2001.  In fact, I think it was just a few weeks after "Nine Eleven"!  The special event was a coffee and desserts reception at a Boston area church at which he publicly apologized for his sins which had taken place over the previous decade.  He wept as he spoke.  Some people thought it was all a fake, but I'm convinced it was very genuine.  He said he had repented to God and come back to God but that he felt he had to tell all the people he'd hurt how sorry he was and ask for their forgiveness.  He got mine (and my wife's) that night.

From time to time during the years following that reception we'd politely talk but I did not become close to him until 2009.  That was when things went sour in my life.  It was just a few months before the church was closed.  It was during a time when I was facing a lot of intense criticism about my ministry and my personality.  At one point, I became suicidal.  I posted something on the internet that I should never have posted.  Derek Sanderson called me.  I could tell he was very concerned and very worried about me.  This was not the arrogant "Donald Trump style" Derek Sanderson of the 1980s.  Rather, this was a man that following imprisonment and catastrophic personal failure in his own life, had genuine empathy for me, and dare I say - genuine love for me.  He told me to call him anytime.  If I was ever in personal crisis, he'd be there for me.  Whatever he could do for me, he'd do that.  There were times after that when I'd call Derek Sanderson and he'd listen.  He never "talked down" to me (as he'd done to me and many others during the 1980s).  He spoke to me the way a caring father would speak to a beloved and troubled son.   I honestly believe he saved my life.  You know, the Christian musical group Sidewalk Prophets has a song called Save My Life.  There's a line in that song that says:  "Maybe God is calling you tonight, to tell me something that would save my life!"  Derek Sanderson did that for me!  I'm feeling emotional as I write this.

I visited him at his small apartment one afternoon in November of 2013.  He was in poor health.  He was weak.  His heart was very bad.  He'd been given a scary medical diagnosis.  That was the last time I actually saw him.  I phoned him several times after that, asking if I could come and visit.  He told me he was honestly much too weak but he thanked me for calling.  In January of 2014 he was admitted to a hospital.  In late January that year he died.

What really bothered me was many people did not like him.  Derek used to say "Christians are the only ones who shoot their wounded".  Some Christians loved and forgave Derek, as I did.  But many considered him a phony and a criminal.  They wanted nothing to do with him.  I was determined to set the record straight about Derek Sanderson!  I wrote a blog post - on this very blog - about Derek Sanderson.  I wrote frankly about his personal failures and imprisonment.  But I also highlighted and emphasized what a wonderful senior citizen he'd become.  I wrote glowingly about the truly new man he'd become.  I was totally open about how this dear brother had saved my life!  I can't tell you how great I felt on the day I hit "Publish" and that post went onto the internet.

I did hear from a number of people.  What was gratifying was the number of folks who said they'd had a very bad opinion of Derek Sanderson until they read my blog post.  Person after person after person changed their minds about Derek Sanderson.  People who would have celebrated his death now mourned and sorrowed.  I desperately wanted to promote publicly what a great and wonderful man Derek had become - and that he should never be remembered for the criminal he had been, but for the saint he became.

I wondered if I'd hear from Derek's family.  His funeral service was scheduled for a Sunday afternoon at a funeral home.  Specifically, they scheduled visiting hours (I think) from 2 to 4 to be immediately followed by a funeral service.  I wondered if I'd hear from the family, and if they'd ask me to speak briefly at the funeral.  I excitedly felt that would happen!

A few hours after my post went public, my cell phone rang.  It was Derek Sanderson Junior calling.  He sounded solemn and slightly angry.

"I understand you put something on your blog about my father's death,"  he said, "and now my sister and I are fielding calls from friends we attended high school with.  They're asking why they never knew my father went to prison and walked away from God.  I want you to take that piece down!"

I felt like a safe had fallen thirteen stories then landed on me and killed me!

I was shaking as I meekly told him I'd take the piece down and hung up.

That was the worst experience of my life.  I seriously considered not attending the funeral because I did not want to face the family.  I did attend, however.

On the Saturday night before the funeral I was committed to "emcee" a special prayer service in Marlboro, Mass. which was held at an Assemblies of God church but included people from many church congregations.  I know "emcee" (also known as "Master of Ceremonies") may seem like a weird term for leading a prayer service, but that's in fact what it was.  I'm usually very good at doing something like that.  I don't have many talents or abilities, but public speaking and vocal leadership are right up my alley!  I mentioned that Christian school earlier.  One time that school had a talent show and I was Master of Ceremonies.  I did a great job!  On the Saturday night of the weekend of Derek Sanderson's funeral, I did the worst public speaking job of my life!  It was terrible!   I wasn't focused.  I wasn't speaking well.  I wasn't leading well.  Mentally, I wasn't there!  I wonder if anybody thought I was drunk!  Later a guy who'd been involved in planning the service and who'd been very disappointed in me that night asked "Why couldn't you just have put on your game face?" when I'd nervously explained I was grieving the death of a friend.

At the visiting hours on Sunday some folks angrily asked me "Did the family ask you to take that piece down?"  Listen, people were mad at the family.  Their actions backfired.  I was honest and told people the family asked me to take it down.  I remember one guy asking me if I could still give him a hard copy of what I wrote.  I'd been so tempted to save a hard copy so I'd be able to just pass out copies of what I'd written.  But I didn't.  Today I wish I had a copy of it, but I don't.  And you can't find it online - it's gone.

In retrospect I think that maybe if I'd have just used Derek Sanderson's initials and not his name I could have "gotten away with" that being online and the family not really being upset.  At the time, I talked to a personal friend who is also a licensed counselor.  My counselor friend told me "Some families have secrets".  

Some do.

Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.  I'm not sure why I chose to write this today ... maybe because it was in January of 2014 that Derek was hospitalized and died.

You know what?  I kind of hope the family reads this.

STRANGER ON THE PHONE

"And in nothing terrified by your adversaries:  which is to them an evident token of perdition, but to you of salvation, and that of God."  (Philippians 1:28)

"...fearlessly, no matter what your enemies may do.  They will see this as a sign of their downfall, but for you it will be a clear sign from God that he is with you, and that he has given you eternal life with him."  (Philippians 1:28 The Living Bible)

A well known Alfred Hitchcock movie is the 1951 release Strangers on a Train.  That film ironically plays an important role in the 1987 comedy film Throw Momma from the Train.  The title Strangers on a Train inspired me to call this essay Stranger on the Phone.  The incident I'm writing about took place during the 1980s.  I suspect it happened in either 1983 or 1984.  It happened while I was an Assistant Pastor at Christian Life Center.  At the time, Christian Life Center was a church of several hundred in Walpole, Massachusetts.

I have never told this story to anyone - until now.  Yesterday, my pastor's Sunday morning sermon was about forgiveness.  His material was taken from Matthew chapter 18.  I've found myself thinking about this story from my past since yesterday morning's sermon.  The fact that I've been ill with respiratory issues over the past five weeks or so, and I'm still somewhat ill, may also have played a role in why I've been obsessed with this story from my past today; and why I feel compelled to tell you about it.

I was maybe 29 or 30 years old at the time.  You may recall that the New Testament character Timothy is believed to have been a young man (not much older than 30) who was like a son to the Apostle Paul.  Apparently, some Believers disrespected Timothy because he was young and perhaps also because he was fearful (see I Timothy 4:12 and 2 Timothy 1:7).  Yet, Paul saw a lot of promise and potential in Timothy, and did all he could to endorse his ministry and encourage him.  I was a lot like Timothy!  My father was very confident, extroverted, and had an authoritative personality.  He had a distinguished career in law enforcement.  My "boss" at Christian Life Center, David C. Milley, was very much like my father.  He was extroverted, confident, and very much a "take charge" guy.  I was not very much like either my father or my "boss".  I know there were those in authority at the Walpole church who questioned my fitness for leadership.  David Milley (like Paul with Timothy) viewed me as a young man with promise and potential.  The job at that church was a huge opportunity for me.  I didn't want to disappoint David Milley or anyone else.  I didn't want to disappoint the Lord Jesus Christ.  I didn't want to fail!

One weekday morning, the church secretary patched a phone call through to my office.  There was a stranger on the phone.  It was a young man whom I'd guess wasn't much older than I was.  He was calling from out-of-state.  I don't remember exactly where he was calling from.  He was concerned about a relative that was seriously ill and had been hospitalized.  I think the hospitalized person may have been his grandfather; I honestly can't remember.  The stranger on the phone provided me with the patient's name and told me the name of the hospital at which he was being treated.  I don't remember which hospital it was; I believe it was about forty-five minutes away from Walpole.  The stranger on the phone stressed that the patient was not in right standing with God.  The stranger on the phone stressed that it was imperative the patient be presented with the true Gospel of Jesus Christ and have an opportunity to receive Jesus Christ as his Personal Lord and Savior.  (If you're not an evangelical Christian this may not make sense to you.  If you are an evangelical Christian, you know there's nothing more important than that a person receives Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.  It makes the difference between eternity in hell or eternity in heaven.)  I assured the stranger on the phone that I understood why this was important and that I would definitely be visiting the hospital patient very soon.  I remember writing down the name of the hospital patient along with the hospital information on a three by five index card and laying it on my desktop.  I don't remember if I also wrote down the name of the stranger on the phone or if the stranger on the phone gave me his telephone number.

"Tomorrow I'm definitely going to visit that guy in the hospital" was my immediate thought upon hanging up the phone.

The next morning I was sick.  I awoke with very bad cold symptoms:  congestion, runny nose, cough, slight sore throat, and slight headache.  My voice sounded very nasal.  I immediately remembered Instructor Terry Lewis' class at Central Bible College where he admonished us, "Never go on a hospital call if you're sick.  Your germs could cause a patient's death!"  Going to see the stranger on the phone's relative was out.  It would have to wait for another day.

Several days went by before my health was truly back to normal.  Shortly after arriving at my office, I dialed the hospital where the stranger on the phone's relative had been reported to be a patient.  These days because of health/privacy laws it can frankly be difficult to call a hospital and receive patient information if you're not a close relative of that patient.  In the 1980s, obtaining such information was not difficult at all.  The hospital informed me the patient had died a couple of days earlier.  Yes - died!  When I received that news, I wanted to die!  What was I going to tell the stranger on the phone if he ever called back to see how my visit with his relative went?  This probably would've been a good time to read 2 Timothy 1:7!  I didn't even think of doing that!

I don't know how many days went by - maybe it was ten days.  The stranger on the phone called back.  The church secretary put the call through to my office.  This has to have been the worst phone call I ever received in my life.  I sadly told him point blank what I've just told you in this composition.  Remember; I was a Timothy.  I didn't have a lot of confidence.  I didn't want to disappoint or fail anyone.  I've been stopped a few times while driving by police officers who lectured me about the speed limit, or failure to make a complete stop; things like that.  A couple times I received hefty traffic tickets.  Those experiences were a joke compared to this phone call!  

"If you were sick, why didn't you call someone to go in your place?!  You couldn't do that?!"

I had no answer.  He didn't utter a single obscene or profane word.  Somehow, I think obscene or profane words would have been easier to hear than what the stranger on the phone said to me.  You may also wonder why I didn't seek out someone to go in my place.  At the time, that thought had never occurred to me.  Remember:  I'd have been asking someone to go to the hospital to minister to a man I didn't know and had never met; and that the request had come from a man over the phone from out-of-state whom I did not know and had not met.  It might not have been easy to have found a minister (even from the staff at Christian Life Center - Walpole) to go in my place.  But; we'll never know, will we?

At that point I promised myself I'd never let something like that happen again.  Believe it or not, after another twenty-five years of full-time ministry, and then fifteen years beyond full-time ministry something like that never did happen again!

Yes, this is the first time I've ever shared the story with anyone.  What do you think?  Is that a horrible story?  Do you supposed that old man in the hospital died and went to hell?  If so, was that my fault?  Did the stranger on the phone have the right to condemn me?  Was it all just some terrible accident that couldn't be helped?

Readers, this is what "real life" ministry is like.  It's possible that had that incident happened twenty years later I would have handled it differently.  In fact, I probably would have handled that differently at 50 than at 30.  I know someone will post a comment saying "You've got to forgive yourself!"  I think I have.  If I hadn't forgiven myself, I don't think I could have done another twenty-five years of full-time ministry.  And from those years of ministry did come many wonderful victories and success stories.  This one's been in the closet for over forty years.

AND SO THIS IS THANKSGIVING...

"In every thing give thanks:  for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."  (I Thessalonians 5:18)

Yes, the inspiration for my title was John Lennon's "And So This is Christmas"!  It might surprise some of you that I really like that song.  I guess if I tried I could write a similar song about Thanksgiving Day, but I'm not going to try that right now!  My favorite two American holidays are Independence Day and Thanksgiving Day.  I feel bad that Thanksgiving Day seems to be less and less important each year.  My birthday is in September and I guess even in September these days Christmas decorations are out!  Thanksgiving Day has been turned into a little prelude for Christmas.  It's too bad.  When I was a kid November meant Thanksgiving and December meant Christmas.  It should still be that way.  I guess this is a bit "off topic" but each year around this time there are plenty of displays of photos featuring Dallas, Texas taken on November 22, 1963.  Have you ever noticed that there are no Christmas decorations or Merry Christmas signs anywhere in those photos?  That's because Christmas in those days got very little mention before Thanksgiving Day.

My first memory of Thanksgiving must be from 1958.  Our family moved from inner city Boston to the suburban community of Canton in December of that year.  My parents had one of those 1950s General Electric portable "Roaster" ovens.  In that oven they cooked a turkey.  I can still see the "Roaster" and the turkey at the "old" house and I remember my parents telling me it was a very special day.  When we were kids we'd have relatives over for Thanksgiving.  My father was very "macho" and very much an authority figure; but when the relatives were over, he was a bit nervous and I always got a kick out of that!  In 1972, my mother was in the hospital undergoing an operation during the Thanksgiving week.  My father was no "Galloping Gourmet" but he insisted on cooking a turkey for we three "kids" who were in our mid and late teens at that point.  My father in an apron cooking a meal frankly looked ridiculous!  I know I struggled to maintain my composure.  I'm sure my siblings did too!  After dinner we went to visit my mother in the hospital.  I don't know why we didn't just go out to a restaurant!

I spent a couple of Thanksgiving Days in Springfield, Missouri during my time at Central Bible College.  One year we were invited to Pastor Wartenbee's house.  I remember his wife offering us "cold peas and cheese" as an appetizer.  And I still recall my friend James Rayburn from Georgia looking horrified at the thought of cold peas and cheese!  I think I made some excuse, myself!  Just recently I was reading that cold peas and cheese is a popular holiday appetizer in much of the midwest - I think especially from families of Germanic origin.  So now that kind of makes sense!

My favorite part of the Thanksgiving dinner was always the stuffing.  I'm French Canadian.  French Canadian stuffing is primarily meat stuffing.  There are various ways to make it.  Most people do include the traditional bread stuffing mixes you can buy at the supermarket, but to that you add ground beef and ground mild sausage as well as chopped up celery and sometimes even a little bit of mashed potatoes into the stuffing.  It's really good!

I don't even have time to write about all the school football games I've attended on Thanksgiving Days!  No I never played football - I'd have been killed!  But I was in the high school band and we went to all the games.  And when my kids were at Marian High School we attended their Thanksgiving games!  I guess I'm making the mistake here a lot of Americans make:  I'm talking about food and football but nothing about God or being thankful!  It really is so important to be thankful!  Did you know Americans by nature are not thankful?  That was stated by a guest preacher I heard a number of years ago, and I think it's true.   I want to remember to be thankful this year!

I'm thankful for the memories I've shared today.  They're good memories.  I'm thankful that at seventy-one I'm alive and reasonably healthy.  I'm thankful for my wife Mary Ann.  I'm not always the easiest person to deal with or to please.  I'm grateful she forgives and loves me.  I'm thankful for my three grown children.  All three are committed Christians.  Mary Ann has sometimes lamented that we didn't shield our kids from a lot of things they really shouldn't have been exposed to.  It's true, and I have to take the blame for that.  And, yet, in spite of that, they're committed Christians and truly outstanding people.  

I'm grateful for the church we attend:  Bread of Life Church in Westminster, Mass.  Yeah, I guess we get the long distance award as it's more than fifty miles each way on Sunday mornings.  But it's really a wonderful church family and very special to be part of it.  Like George Bailey, I'm also rich in friends.  I'm a very quirky person and a little odd at times.  Really!  I once told clergy colleague Dick Germaine that I was "a weirdo"!  Dick got really upset with me for calling myself a weirdo!  So, instead I'm saying I'm quirky and odd!  And yet this quirky and odd guy really has a lot of good friends that I frankly don't deserve!  

I guess counting 1954, tomorrow will be my 72nd Thanksgiving Day.  I'm looking forward to it!  I most of all thank God for His free gift of salvation through Jesus Christ, and I thank God for all the "stuff" I'm mentioning here!

CULTS AND A '53 CHEVY

"... your old men shall dream dreams:" (from Acts 2:17)

The issue of whether to share a dream or dreams that you've had and that you believe could be a message from God is quite a controversial and "loaded" issue!  It does set a person up for possible ridicule and rejection.  And, indeed most dreams are not from God, nor are most dreams from the forces of darkness for that matter.  My old friend David C. Milley used to say that "Dreams usually mean nothing more than that you ate too much pizza!"  David did have a very valid point.  Most of the time, dreams are kind of wild and crazy things made up by your mind as you sleep and most of the time they mean absolutely nothing.  But sometimes I'll have a dream or two that I strongly believe has significance and that may well have been from God.  In fact, in my case, often when it's something from God, for me it will be two dreams in a row, much as with Pharaoh in the Genesis account when Joseph interpreted his dreams.  I've decided to risk ridicule and rejection and share the two dreams I had last night.  I welcome honest feedback from my readers about the dreams.  Sometimes people tell me they try to leave Comments on the blog and they can't.  I know it can be difficult.  It you are able to leave a Comment right here at the blog that would be great.  If not, you're welcome to email me or to leave a message for me on Facebook or Messenger.

I had a dream last night about a couple who were in the church I pastored in Framingham, Mass.  They were a very nice couple.  Since I don't have permission to use their names, I am going to give them the fictitious names of Joe and Donna.  I don't think my dream actually has anything to do with the real Joe and Donna that I know.  Rather, they were just characters in the dream, meant to illustrate a point.  In the dream, I was at their home.  Donna was out, and I was having a conversation with Joe.  Joe was concerned that Donna was getting involved with members of a very dangerous cult.  Donna is a very sweet, loving, innocent, and trusting person.  Joe was concerned that while Donna loved these new friends she had made and fully trusted these new friends she had made, they may not be the wonderful people she believed them to be and that great harm could come to her.  But, here's the "kicker":  Joe, himself, had also started to become involved in a completely different cult.  Joe did not see this as any problem, as he had a lot in common with the folks in the cult with which he was becoming involved, and in comparison to the cult in which Donna was enamored with, this cult was not really considered dangerous or life-threatening.

Wow!

I sensed trying to talk Joe out of involvement with "his" cult might not be the best course of action initially.  Since "Donna's" cult was truly dangerous and could be life-threatening, I felt that's what I needed to focus on. While I was talking to Joe, Donna came home.  She was smiling intensely.  Her entire manner was one of being carefree, relaxed, happy, and at peace.  I made brief pleasant conversation with her - just trying to set her at ease.  I was both Joe and Donna's pastor.  My job was not to turn them into enemies.  My job was to be their friend, but also to get them thinking clearly and to see to it that each of them would get as far away from these cults as possible!

I woke up!

After about a half hour of pondering this dream while a radio was on in the background, I fell asleep again and had another dream.  In this dream, I was at a school facility.  I was outdoors, along with students, teachers, and parents.  The building looked something like the building where I went to junior high in the late 1960s.  The students were all elementary school aged - maybe grades K through 5.  One mother there was someone I know.  In real life she has a daughter, but in the dream she had a son.  He was about age ten.  If you've ever seen the film School of Rock, he looked like the boy in that movie who's an amazing guitarist.  We were all outdoors because there had been some kind of an emergency.  I don't think it was an active shooter or anything like that.  I think more likely, it was a fire drill or false fire alarm or something like that.  In the dream I'm not sure what my role was - maybe I was a teacher; I don't know.  The boy who looked like the School of Rock kid was in a toy car.  It looked like a toy car that maybe a three through seven-year-old might play with.  It frankly looked a little too "babyish" for a ten-year-old; but he was in that toy car.  The toy car looked remarkably like a toy 1953 Chevy.  I was thinking, "Boy, here we are well into the twenty-first century and toy cars still look like cars of the fifties!"  One thing that struck me as odd about this toy Chevy was that the driver's side headlight was not on the front of the car, but rather on the side front fender.  "Who's stupid idea was that?" I wondered.  Somehow, the "emergency" was ended, and we were all filing into the school building.  

Suddenly, I woke up!

I've given these dreams a lot of thought.  I think they do have significance and are likely from God.  That first dream involving a Christian husband and wife gravitating toward different cults and me as a pastor trying to diffuse the situation, I think speaks to the state of many Christians today.  I think of 2 Timothy 4:3-4 which says, "For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables."  There's a dearth of understanding the Bible, and of sound doctrine.  People think they've "got it all together" but they don't!  And in the dream, Joe thought "his" cult was fine.  He was worried about Donna, but in fact both were in danger.  I think a lot of pastors, especially older pastors, would say they fear the spiritual condition of a lot of the people to whom they minister.  The second dream had to do with a school.  I think that speaks of instruction.  There was some "emergency" going on.  In the dream, we were all rather passive about it, but it was an emergency.  And what about the toy '53 Chevy?  I think a lot of today's churches and pastors think they can use the methods of the past and everything will be fine.  It won't!  This is not 1953.  The headlight was not even in front of the toy car.  The kid wouldn't even "see" correctly.  People are not being taught correctly - they don't "see" the spiritual dangers right in front of them.  And the kid was using a toy which really was "babyish" for him.  This reminds me of that passage in Hebrews chapter 5 which warns that Believers who should be mature in Christ are still on "milk" and can't handle sound doctrine.

There may well be a lot more to dreams than I've even considered so far!

What do you think?

WHAT MIGHT JOSEPH WANT TO TELL US?

[PLEASE READ FIRST:  The following is a piece of fiction.  I know that some Christians become very upset if people write or perform fictional pieces about Biblical characters.  They feel such pieces or performances are blasphemous, sacrilegious, or inappropriate.  If you're one of those Christians, you can feel free to stop reading now.  If, however, you can appreciate the value of a creative piece about a Biblical character or a Biblical story, please continue on!]

"And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am Joseph; doth my father yet live?..." (from Genesis 45:3)

I feel extremely blessed to be writing this piece.  I'm Joseph - not the husband of Mary and foster father of Jesus Christ; not that Joseph!  I'm the man many would refer to as "Joseph of the Old Testament".  It would take thousands of paragraphs to explain how I was given permission to write this essay on Bob Baril's blog; how I was enabled to speak and understand twenty-first century American English; how I was enabled to understand your technology; your geography, your history, your sports and entertainment, and even your idioms.  That's been all miraculously taken care of!  In this piece I'm giving you a rare treat and privilege.  I'm letting you hear from me and know me.  I'm sharing some thoughts with you that I learned in my ancient life which can greatly help you as you live your modern American lives - and this especially applies to those of you who are evangelical Christians!

Listen, my life in many respects was crazy!  I know that countless modern American Christians love to complain!  They really expect life to just be one happy barrel of laughs, and they really expect life to be decades of happiness, success, and euphoria!  I guess that's the first thing I want you to know:  Such thinking is very wrong and very misguided.  A Christian who expects life to be that way will be doomed to failure and spiritual catastrophe.  How would most of these American Christians handle being sold into slavery at age seventeen, and then spending the next thirteen years as a slave and later as a prison inmate?

I understand Mark Twain said, "Youth is wasted on the young!"  He was right!  Do you have hopes and plans and dreams?  That's fine!  That's good!  But you don't have to broadcast this to everybody!  That was a huge mistake on my part.  I know.  I guess I can blame my father for it.  And that's another thing a lot of people are good at - blaming their parents for their shortcomings.  I will say Jacob's tendency toward favoritism was a big mistake!  He did favor me!  He treated me like Little Lord Fauntleroy!  But my horrific experiences were mostly my fault.  I loved the dreams I had.  I bragged to my brothers about them.  I dreamed and fantasized about my family bowing down to me!  My brothers hated me.  Why didn't I have enough brains to keep that stuff to myself?  When my brothers threw me into a cistern and then sold me to some Midianite traders, I couldn't have been more shocked!  I screamed!  I yelled, "You can't do this to me!"  But they did.  

I loved God.  I believed in God.  I trusted God.  I had no Bible, mind you.  There were no Bibles then!  But I knew the stories of Adam and Eve, of Cain and Abel, of Noah, and of my great-grandfather Abraham.  I believed in miracles.  But I was terrified!  Once my ordeal began, I was constantly harassed by the devil who told me God had let me down and I needed to hate God.  Somehow I just couldn't do that.  Imagine having to learn a new language.  There were no special language classes.  You just had to listen and pick it up.  At first, my life in Egypt was absolutely terrible.  I was scared all the time.  But my owner, Potiphar, who was a really high level guy in the Egyptian military and government, amazingly liked me!  Some of the other slaves weren't happy about that.  In time, I became a slave inside his household doing what your culture would call "White collar work".  This may sound really weird.  But slavery in the ancient world could be much different from what you'd imagine!  Did you know in the days of the Roman Empire some physicians were slaves to wealthy people and families, for instance?

Then there was Mrs. Potiphar!  You've heard of a "cougar"?  I don't mean an animal.  I mean an older woman who preys sexually on boys and young men.  That's what she was.  She was always after me!  Some of my fellow slaves were jealous of that!  As bad as things were for me, I knew having sex with her would not make anything better.  This may sound unbelievable, but most of all, I didn't want to upset God!  Many of you know the story.  She accused me of trying to rape her!  Do you know what would normally be done to a slave who tried to rape (or did rape) an Egyptian official's wife?  He'd be executed!  

I thought I might be executed.  But it was obvious Potiphar didn't believe her accusations.  However, like Pontius Pilate, Potiphar was in a quandary!  He didn't want to have me executed, but he couldn't have me remain as his slave.  His solution was to put me in prison.  It was a small prison, and actually it was what your culture would call a "minimal security prison for white collar criminals".  So, you're disappointed in God, you hate your life, and you think God is cruel and unfair?  How'd you have handled this situation?  Well, again, this may sound crazy but in a lot of ways being in that prison was better than being a slave.  I just did the best I could.  However, remember all those dreams I'd had?  Nobody was bowing down to me!  I wasn't successful!  My prospects for the future were pretty much poor!

If you've seen Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, you know what ultimately happens in my story.  I interpret dreams for Pharaoh, and as some folks have said, "One day Joseph woke up as a prisoner and went to bed as a prince!"  I wasn't exactly a prince, but I became the second most important person in Egypt.  I married Asenath, daughter of Poti-pherah, priest of On.  I had two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim.  And as many of you know, after over twenty years, I met my long lost brothers, put them through some serious testing, they and my father came to live in Egypt, and we all lived happily ever after.  Sort of!

Again, why am I writing all this?  Because ninety-eight percent of today's American Christians would never make it through what I endured!  I want you to think about that!  And I want to give you Five Rules for Living which I sincerely hope you'll put into practice!  Here they are:

1.  PUT GOD FRONT AND CENTER IN YOUR LIFE!   Matthew 6:33 says, "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."

2.  BE BOTH TOUGH AND TENDER, USING MUCH WISDOM!  Matthew 10:16 says, "Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves:  be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves."

3.  FORGIVE, FORGIVE, FORGIVE!  Matthew 18:21-22 says, "Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him?  till seven times?  Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times:  but, Until seventy times seven."

4.  KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE LORD WHEN NOTHING MAKES SENSE!  Proverbs 3:5-6 says, "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.  In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

5.  NO MATTER HOW BAD SOMETHING IS, REMEMBER THAT GOD WILL BRING GOOD OUT OF IT!  Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."

Canton, MA - Where the "Soap Opera" is REAL!

"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."  (John 8:32)

If I'm ever asked to play one of those parlor games where you have to disclose something about yourself nobody would ever guess or suspect, I usually write, "I was hooked on a soap opera".  Indeed I was.  It was "All My Children" on ABC back in the early 1970s.  (That's the show on which Susan Lucci played Erica Kane.)  One summer day in 1972 my mother asked me to watch that particular day's episode and let her know what happened.  I did.  And the next thing you know, any weekday I was free at 1 in the afternoon it was time for "All My Children".  I went to Stonehill College.  1 p.m. was not a time in which a lot of classes were typically scheduled, so I caught AMC two or three times a week.  And that went on till sometime in 1974 when (as we evangelicals sometimes admit) "I got convicted by the Holy Spirit".  I knew watching AMC was a stupid waste of time.  But it was sort of a guilty pleasure.  However, shortly after "getting convicted" I gave the show up cold turkey!  And I'm glad I did!

At least "All My Children" wasn't real.  I mean, nobody was ever going to run into Dr. Tyler, or Paul Martin, or Nick Davis, or (perish the thought) Erica Kane at a supermarket or a fast food restaurant or while pumping gas at a self serve filling station!  But the "soap opera" currently happening in Canton, Massachusetts, and which has been "on the air" (so to speak) for over three years is the "Karen Reed Case", and it's a reality.  I remember when radio and television news reports in late January and early February of 2022 began speaking about the body of Boston Police Office John O'Keefe being found in the snow during a blizzard on a front lawn at 34 Fairview Road, Canton.  And, several days later, reports were given stating he'd been fighting with his girlfriend Karen Read and that it was believed she'd hit him with her SUV and left him to die.  I didn't know Officer O'Keefe, nor did I know Karen Read.  It sounded like whatever happened on Fairview Road between O'Keefe and Read was both bizarre and horrific!

During the next couple of years, rumors and reports about John O'Keefe's death became more frequent and more amazing.  A controversial blogger and a couple of popular talk radio hosts began frequently reporting that Karen Read did not hit John O'Keefe at all.  Rather, it was rumored that he'd been murdered inside the 34 Fairview Road house and that Karen Read, a victim of an elaborate conspiracy and cover-up, was being framed.  In Canton, a Boston suburb of about 24,000, two camps formed:  There was the "Karen Read was Framed" camp, and there was the "We Support the Men and Women of the Canton Police Department" camp.  If you think the divisions between people who love Donald Trump and people who hate Donald Trump are scary and extreme, that's nothing compared to the divisions over the Karen Read case in Canton, Massachusetts!

It's not unusual that over the years some people have switched sides once or even twice.  I will admit, I was once on one side and now I'm on the other side!  I'm not going to tell you which side I'm on.  Last year Karen Read was tried for Second Degree Murder (among other charges).  The trial resulted in a "hung jury".  Several days ago, the "re-trying" of Karen Read began at Dedham Superior Court.  I've been praying about this case for a long time, and it's my sincere prayer that if she is truly Guilty she'll be found Guilty, and if she is truly Not Guilty she'll be found Not Guilty.

Whatever the results of the trial, I suspect Karen Read will never set foot in Canton, Mass. again! But many of the other "players" (or maybe it's "personalities") are still around and about in the community.  It is freaky to see one of them when you are just going about your business in Canton.  I try to not stare at the person and to not act weird, but it's difficult!  I frequently take a long walk around Canton.  On my walk, I pass 1 Meadows Avenue, where John O'Keefe lived and where his parents now live.  I pass the Waterfall Bar, and C.F. McCarthy's, where John and Karen and many of the "players" were on that fateful January 2022 night.  I also pass Chris Albert's pizza shop.  His brother was the owner of the Fairview Road residence.  I don't pass 34 Fairview Road.  It's a couple miles away.  But I suppose one day if I get ambitious, I'll take a walk past there, too.

Who would have thought this case would make Canton famous and that "true crime junkies" from all over the world would be studying and discussing these "players" and locations?   Yeah, it's like people and events from a soap opera have come to life!  It's kind of eerie!

Almost ten years ago now, my son Jon and I were on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.  Well, Jon was the contestant and I was his "Plus One".  That show was produced in several different locations through the years.  At that time, the show was done in Stamford, Connecticut.  His episode aired several times.  The first time was on Columbus Day 2015.  Jon had "banked" $30,000 and was going for $50,000.  As his "Plus One" I gave him a wrong answer!  His "winnings" dropped to $5,000 and that was that!  Being on the show was what being in Canton, MA feels like right now.  It was so weird to be in studio and to be talking to Chris Harrison.  In the "green room" I'd also talked to other contestants and a producer.  I know the word is overused but it was surreal.  And, I felt the same way when I told a story at a MOTH Mainstage Event in Boston which was broadcast on their national radio program on public radio a couple of times.  When you're there and it's real it's what I call "a trip"!

I know this will sound crazy to some readers and that some will laugh at me or mock me.  But at Millionaire as I was experiencing everything remember thinking, "When I get to Heaven, I think it's going to feel something like this.  I read the Bible and I pray.  And I know God has done some powerful and significant things in my life.  But at some point I'll pass from this life into the next life - and I'll actually experience what Mercy Me sings about in their song I Can Only Imagine."  

I've experienced it before.  I'm experiencing it now.  And for sure, I'm going to experience it in Heaven someday - that Truth is not only stranger than Fiction - Truth is Reality!

Why I Identify With THE HURTING And With THE HELPER

 "Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God."  (2 Corinthians 1:4)

Last week there was a rarity on television!  Something was "hyped to the inth degree" by CBS as something very important that must be watched.  In the past, a number of items have been similarly proclaimed by a television network.  The publicity may be "off the charts".  It's all you hear about!  It's all over social media.  You tune in.  You watch it.  And you think "Huh?  That was boring, stupid, and not worth watching at all!"  Last week was different.  Last week was surprising.  CBS proclaimed the Thursday, March 27 episode of Survivor as extraordinary - an episode which would feature one of the most powerful and important happenings on Survivor ever!  I did not watch on Thursday night, and I hadn't seen Survivor in over a decade, although at one time I watched the show regularly.  I watch a lot less television than I did at one time.  Frankly, I consider much of what's currently on network television to be garbage!  Saturday evening, I happened to be flipping through the channels.  I was surprised that Survivor was coming on, and as far as I could tell, it would be a repeat of the regular Thursday night episode.  I decided to watch and see what this great thing was which the network was proclaiming.  I wasn't disappointed!

It's still quite early in this season's Survivor.  There are still plenty of contestants.  There was (in my opinion) a pretty tough "physical challenge" in which they were all competing.  I want to focus on two competitors who were each on two different teams:  Eva Erickson, a 24-year-old Ph.D. student who is also on a female hockey team; and Joe Hunter, a 45-year-old Fire Dept. Captain.  Eva was giving her all to the challenge.  She succeeded, but it obviously was taxing for her, physically, mentally, and emotionally.  The only way I can describe it is she had what I call "a melt down".  She was crying, and trembling, and obviously distraught.  She was definitely "not okay".  The viewers could see that Joe was very compassionate and concerned for Eva.  Jeff Probst the host did something he pretty much never does.  He broke protocol.  He asked Joe if he wanted to go over and comfort Eva, and Joe responded in the affirmative.  He went to Eva. hugged her, tightly held both of her hands, and calmly instructed her to breathe as he gave her words of reassurance and told her it would be okay.

It didn't take long for Eva to become calm.  She then addressed everyone present.  She told them she is autistic and that she was diagnosed with autism as a young child.  Her parents were told all the things that Eva would never be able to do because she "was not normal".  Her parents chose to believe despite Eva's autism she could live a normal life and that there was not something deficient about her.  Eva was mainstreamed in school.  Things were not always easy for her.  She referred to what happened during the Survivor physical challenge as an "episode".  She explained that all her life she's had to deal with these "episodes" but that she has never allowed them to stop her.  As an amateur hockey player and a Ph.D. candidate, obviously she hasn't allowed autism to prevent her from success in life.  As for Joe, he commented that what he did for Eva is what he'd expect someone to do for his own daughter were she in a similar situation.

I cannot properly express how deeply moved and affected I was by watching this very powerful situation on Survivor.  In doing so, I realized that I definitely identified with Eva, who had been deeply hurting and that I also identified with Joe, who was the helper.

Many years ago, I used to describe myself as "eccentric".  I will say my wife never liked that!  It's true that when people think of an "eccentric" person, they tend to think of "a nut", of someone that just makes everybody uncomfortable and will never fit in.  That's really not what it means to be "eccentric".  Rather, the word simply means "outside the circle".  An eccentric person is one who marches to the beat of a different drummer.  I've always been that person.  But in more recent years, I've described myself as "unconventional" which for some reason is less off-putting to people.  I don't have the space here to write about the "eccentric" and "unconventional" things I've done in life.  It would probably take forty-seven paragraphs for me to do that!  I will tell you just one.  Most of you know I'm an Assemblies of God minister.  At our 1998 District Council which is a business meeting and conference of the AG ministers and church leaders in Southern New England, I brought forth a proposal to change the annual financial giving requirements for ministers.  As I stood there before a couple hundred people discussing my proposal (which I really thought was a great idea) I could just feel the negativity and disapproval in the room.  I was confident on the outside but began to feel pretty scared on the inside.  There was a "voice vote" taken regarding my proposal.  Suffice it to say, it lost.  I'd say maybe 4% voted For it and 96% voted Against it.  During the remainder of the conference, I wondered if people were looking at me and thinking, "There's that weirdo".  So, yeah, I've had plenty of my Eva Erickson moments.  And I believe that's made me more compassionate.

But I've got to tell you about Stephen Weber here.  Who is he?  He was another minister in the District.  Honestly, I hardly knew him.  A few days later he contacted me.  He told me he'd voted For the proposal and that he appreciated what I'd tried to do.  He gave me some good counsel which I never forgot.  He said, "You never bring a proposal like that by yourself.  You've got to have at least two other people with you.  And one of them has to be somebody who has some clout in the District."  Rev. Weber told me if I wanted to try again, and set up a committee of folks who'd like to work on bringing a future proposal about changing the policy regarding financial giving requirements for ministers, he'd be happy to work on it with me.

I never did.  And I'm not close to Stephen Weber.  He now lives in another part of the country.  But he did a lot to make me feel not like a jerk but rather like a valuable and thoughtful and important human being.  I think just his reaching out to me made a tremendous impact.  I relate to Joe Hunter.  When somebody's "out there" having "an episode" I want to be the guy who jumps in and helps and encourages and affirms that person.  And I really try to do that!

There's a lot more I want to say.  But I think I've made my point.  I can't believe I'm writing this but, Thank you CBS and Jeff Probst for that powerful episode of Survivor.  And Thank you Stephen Weber for what you did for me back in 1998.  And Thank you to all the eccentric and unconventional people out there, including but certainly not limited to people with autism.  You bring some important stuff to the table and teach all of us some valuable lessons.  And Thank you to all the Joe Hunters who don't care what anybody else thinks but don't hesitate to jump in and comfort and help folks who desperately need that comfort and help.

I know the cliche "W.W.J.D. - What Would Jesus Do?" got way overused back in the 1990s.  But in this Easter season, I hope you won't just follow the crowd and just do what everybody else is doing - good or bad.  I hope you'll remember that powerful scene from Survivor.  It's all over social media.  If you haven't seen it, you should be able to find it and view it pretty easily.  And I do hope you really will ask yourself in every situation, "What Would Jesus Do?"

Identify with The Hurting!  And when you are able to do so, Be The Helper!

LEAVING A LAUDABLE LEGACY

"Greet Priscilla and Aquila my helpers in Christ Jesus:  Who have for my life laid down their own necks:  unto whom not only I give thanks, but also all the churches of the Gentiles."  (Romans 16:3-4)

Priscilla and Aquila were personal friends and ministry associates of the Apostle Paul in the first century.  You can read all about them in the Biblical Book of Acts.  It's been almost two thousand years, but they're still remembered.  They left a laudable legacy.  I'm age seventy.  When you're a teenager, you usually don't think much about death, funerals, where you're going to be buried, and what kind of a legacy you'll leave.  And unless there's some kind of a terrible tragedy like a fatal car accident, you don't usually find yourself going to friend's funerals.  At age seventy, it's a completely different ballgame!  As Jimmy Swaggart has said, that's a big part of the reason he sings that old song "Heaven's Sounding Sweeter All the Time".  At this age you frequently are facing the passing of friends and acquaintances.  Yesterday a dear woman named Sandra, from the church where Mary Ann and I attend, passed into Heaven.  It's a medium-sized church and Mary Ann and I live over fifty miles from it, so I can't say I have a lot of close friends there.  But there are people there who've made an impact on my life and Sandra and her husband Scott are among those people.  Scott's the church's Missions person.  He usually shares a Missionary Highlight during one service each month.  Since my daughter's a missionary, and one of those the church supports, that's important to me.  Sandra had a lot of health problems, especially during the past few years.  She was in a wheelchair.  I knew she faced a lot of physical challenges.  That's why I was surprised when several times over the past year, she'd signal for me to come over and talk to her, she'd give me a big smile, and she'd tell me how much she enjoyed reading what I post online.  I honestly don't receive much positive feedback about what I post online.  For Sandra to make a point of telling me that - well, it was pretty special.  I greatly appreciated it. 

A few months ago a woman from our church named Trisha also passed away.  She also had been a fan of my online writings.  (I know, that may sound awful... like my online writings make people die... I trust that's not the case!)  And then I think of my ministry friend Billy Meek in Tennessee.  He died during the Spring of 2023.  I can't tell you how many times Billy showed me love and encouragement.  He had very serious health problems.  Yet he used to say, "I still gots my joy!".  When he passed, I actually recorded a memorial piece about him on YouTube.

Legacy is so important!  What kind of a legacy will I leave when I pass?  My Dad was seventy-seven when he died, and my Mom was seventy-six.  I may not live more than a few more years.  The legacy I will leave is something I think about.  Billy, Trisha, and Sandra showed the great importance of being an encourager.  As a pastor I preached a lot of "Get your act together!" kind of sermons.  There is a place for sermons like that, but I think were I pastoring now, there'd be more encouraging sermons.  Honestly, I've gone through some serious depression and self-doubt over the past fifteen years.  People like Billy, Trisha, and Sandra (and there are others who are still alive!) have come to mean so much to me!  

I don't preach all that much anymore.  But I try whenever I can to be an encourager.  If one person at my memorial service someday says, "Bob Baril was an encourager" and I know about that in Heaven, there will actually be "tears in Heaven" from me.  They won't be tears of sadness; they'll be tears of great joy.

I hope this doesn't come across as morbid.  That's not my intention.  But as I'm typing, I'm thinking of the words of someone else I've known who is now in Heaven:  Opal Reddin who taught at Central Bible College.  She used to say, "There's a Heaven to gain, and a Hell to shun!".  Yeah, that's "old school".  It's what all the old southern evangelists used to say fifty-plus years ago.  And it's true. 

I have a bunch of handwritten notes in front of me.  There are other stories and other things I want to add to this.  But preachers have a habit of going on too long!  If I were actually preaching this from a pulpit, would it be better for me to continue on for fifteen more minutes?  Or would it be better for me to wrap it up and give an altar call?

You guessed it!  Maybe you're not in a place to get on your knees right now.  But spend some time with God sometime soon.  Allow the Holy Spirit to search your heart.  I know I don't want to be an overbearing jerk - and sometimes in life that's exactly what I've been!  No!  I want to be an encourager like Billy, and Trisha, and Sandra!  I hope you also want to Leave a Laudable Legacy!

"WHAT did you just DO?!"

 "A soft answer turneth away wrath:  but grievous words stir up anger."  (Proverbs 15:1)

It happened in a suburban supermarket parking lot.  I heard a loud, angry, confrontational female voice.  Quickly glancing behind me, I saw a blonde, middle-aged woman storming toward me.

"WHAT did you just DO?!" she was asking me.

The genesis of what led up to that moment happened a few months earlier.  Many of you know that I'm an Assemblies of God minister - although I haven't actually pastored a church in fourteen years.  I don't have many hobbies.  Many ministers play golf.  In fact, many are serious golfers.  But, alas, I only play "Putt-Putt"!  Some are runners.  Some are pretty good photographers.  Some play musical instruments.  More than a few are avid gardeners.  And occasionally you'll find a minister who is gifted at woodworking.  But as I stated, I don't have many hobbies.  I did play the clarinet as a child and as a teenager.  I still have the instrument.  I haven't even tried to play it in maybe twenty years.  My sister is "bugging" me about having my clarinet professionally reconditioned (it really needs it) and playing again.  At times I seriously think I just might.  

One thing I notice is license plates.  And here in Massachusetts, auto inspection stickers, too.  And believe me, there are loads of cars with expired inspection stickers driving around the state of Massachusetts!  I'd been thinking for months about doing a daily feature on Facebook called "License Plate of the Day".  Nothing fancy.  Just taking a picture of an interesting license plate, posting it and dating the post, and wondering if it would get any reactions or comments.  That could be sort of a little, easy hobby.  

On May 3 of this year as I sat in my car in a supermarket parking lot in Brockton, I noticed a very interesting personalized license plate:  "BLAST 1".  Is that cool or what??  I got a little "gutsy".  I exited my car.  I snapped a photo of the plate, and that morning I posted it on Facebook.  That was the beginning and now there's been a "License Plate of the Day" posted by me every day for over six months!

Back to the angry, confrontational, (and slightly scary) blonde woman.  This happened maybe in July.  I'd just snapped a picture of a license plate.  It wasn't anywhere near as cool as "BLAST 1".  I don't even remember what it was.  I think there might have been a couple Xs in it, like maybe "XOX 25" - something like that.  I was walking away from the small SUV when I heard the yelling.  

She caught up to me.  She looked at me as though I were a criminal, a pervert, a horrible and sinister person, or all of those together!  I calmly smiled and told her I do a little feature on Facebook called License Plate of the Day and that I thought it would be a good plate to post there. 

"No.  NO!"  she snapped.  "I don't want anybody to see my plate!"

Maybe this was the wrong thing to say but I sort of chuckled and pointed out, "Well, actually MANY people DO see your plate every day!"

She didn't like that.  I told her my father was Eugene A. Baril who retired from the Registry of Motor Vehicles in 1982 and that because of him, on my car I have Massachusetts license plate 280.  She did calm down and lightened up a bit at that point.  She told me she was a former RMV employee and that's where she'd gotten her plate.  But she just didn't want me to use that photo.  I showed her the photo on my phone and I showed her I was deleting it.  She walked away, in a better frame of mind.

No kidding, about two weeks later, I repeated the scene; this time in a shopping center parking lot.  There was a white Cadillac SUV with kind of an interesting plate.  It wasn't even as good as the first woman's.  It was maybe something like "775 J".  I snapped the photo and was walking toward my car.

"Hey, WHAT do you think you're doing?!"

This was also a woman; also middle-aged.  This one was probably ten years older than the first.  She gave off both an affluent and arrogant impression.  I tried my explanation again.  This woman never worked for the RMV.  She also made me feel, you know, like a pervert, and a criminal, and a slippery and undesirable guy.  As in the first case, I showed her I was deleting the photo.

Since then, I'm still looking for interesting and/or significant license plates, but I must admit I look around a lot more and I'm much more careful to make sure nobody is watching me!

So what do you think?  Good hobby, or kind of silly and stupid hobby?  Or both?

Another hobby of mine is amateur writer.  Well, that's why I started this (most eclectic) blog back in 2006!  Don't get me wrong, I love preaching and I loved pastoring.  But I've had two dreams for years:  Newspaper columnist, and radio talk show host.  I guess now some of you are laughing like you're Kamala Harris!  You can stop.  But I don't think there's anything wrong with a person pursuing their interests!

Did you like this story?  You have no idea how much I enjoy feedback.  Even negative feedback.  One of the nicest things you can do for me is leave a comment right here on the blog or leave a comment on the Facebook link (if that's how you found out about this article).  And even better.  Share the link on  Facebook or Share the link somewhere else.  You have no idea how happy that will make me!

And finally if you have a really cool license plate, contact me!  I'll come and take a photo of it, and at least you won't start screaming at me!

The Story of Jack and Allie

 "The first one to plead his cause seems right, Until his neighbor comes and examines him."  (Proverbs 18:17 New King James Version)

I don't know Jack or Allie.  I've never met either of them.  But their story is quite a tale; a tale which in many respects can serve as a parable or as an allegory.  I heard about Jack and Allie from a guy I know.  He knows Jack rather well; both as a coworker and as a friend.  I'll call the guy I know "David".  None of the names I'm using in this piece are the people's real names.  They're all fictitious.  I felt I might get into some real trouble if I used their actual names.  And the geographic references in this piece are also fictitious for similar reasons.  But the story as I present it is essentially true.  I think a lot of folks will find it fascinating, thought provoking, and even challenging.  You may wonder why David possibly told me this story.  As David sort of "lived through" this story because of many conversations Jack had with him, he kind of  "vented" it to me at times as he sought some pastoral advice from me - counsel he might actually be able to give to Jack.  Okay, that's enough of an introduction.  And now the story begins:

Jack and his wife Kathy are in their late fifties and live in suburban Seattle, Washington.  Jack spent a fair amount of time in the Army and later in the Army Reserve.  He's currently an I.T. guy at a high tech company.  My friend David also works at the same company alongside Jack.  Jack and Kathy were never able to conceive a child.  Around 2000, they went through the long and arduous process of adopting an international baby.  Eventually, after monumental hurdles and red tape they adopted a South Korean baby.  I don't know what the baby's birth name was.  No one does.  The baby girl was abandoned in a train station.  There was a note.  The note just stated the mother was age eighteen and had no way to take care of the baby.  She left her there hoping she'd be found, and ultimately adopted by a loving family.  Again, the birth mom did not provide the child's name or date of birth or any other information.

The authorities guessed on a date of birth.  The lack of information made this international adoption even more complicated than usual, but several months after the baby girl was left at the train station Jack and Allie travelled to South Korea to complete the adoption process and bring her to America.  They named her Allie after Kathy's best friend.  David met Allie when she was a teenager.  He described Allie as both very unusual and very impressive.  She got good grades in school, was active in extracurricular activities, and had a number of friends.  But the thing that stood out to David was that she was probably the most polite, respectful, and loving kid he'd ever met.  David said Allie "adored" both of her adoptive parents and never gave them any trouble.  Allie went to a college which was just a few hours drive from home.  The relationship between Allie and Jack and Kathy seemed perfect.

That's why David was both stunned and shocked several months prior to Allie's May 2022 graduation when Jack bluntly told him he'd given Allie an ultimatum.  Within three months of her graduation, she had to secure a good professional job at least two hundred miles from home, and move out!  Jack explained to David that when he turned age eighteen, he enlisted in the Army.  He made his own way from that moment on.  

"No one babied me." said Jack.  "I've been totally on my own ever since.  I've become very successful.  I'm a self made man.  You don't grow up by living with Mommy and Daddy and working at McDonald's part time till you're twenty-seven.  You spread your wings when school ends and you fly."

In May of 2022, Allie graduated from college.  She worked a job as an administrative assistant at a local company for a couple of months, but she feverishly searched for a job in the field she'd trained for.  Amazingly, she landed a position in California.  It was about eight hundred miles from Seattle.  Jack took some time off in August of 2022.  Jack rented a truck and moved Allie to her new residence.  Obviously I'm skipping a lot of details.  David told me the trip as meticulously planned, at least as Jack described it.  An additional bit of information is that Kathy wasn't entirely onboard with Jack's plan but did not object to it, either.

During the first couple of months, Jack gave David glowing reports of how well Allie was doing and how great all of this was.  Somewhere around May of 2023 disaster struck!  Allie contacted her parents.  She hated her job.  She hated her life.  She was not doing well.  At the very least, she needed some serious counseling.  More likely, she was about to experience a complete mental breakdown and hospitalization.

Thank God, Jack did not tell Allie to sink or swim!  He ended up taking more time off from work, driving to California and moving Allie back to their home in suburban Seattle.

Allie "recovered" pretty well.  Today she has a job in her field in Washington State.  She's living on her own, about seventy miles from her parents.  She and her parents have a reasonably good relationship.

I share this story because I think a lot can be learned from it!

Parents so often expect their kids to be just like them, or to follow a life path that they set.   Sometimes that works.  Many times it doesn't.  We are all very different people.  I have three grown kids.  All very much have their own personalities and their own likes, dislikes and hopes and dreams.  My own father was very good in athletics and very mechanically inclined.  I was neither!  At times that did cause problems in our relationship.  One of my three kids is a minister, my daughter Amy.  She's also a Nurse Practitioner.  But I never pushed any of my kids to become ministers or even to go to a Christian college.  

The Bible verse I opened with may not seem at all applicable.  In fact, it's very applicable!  Just because you think something's a great idea - that doesn't mean it's a great idea!

What do you think?  I'd love to receive your feedback.

"Woke Jesus" is a "MUST watch"!

"But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed." (Galatians 1:8)

I suspect that unless you've been hiding under a rock for the past several years, or that you almost never go online, you're very familiar with The Babylon Bee.  I've gotta tell ya, I love The Babylon Bee.  Admittedly, I was that kid in high school who devoured every issue of MAD Magazine.  And, over fifty years later, I still love great satire!  The folks who produce and distribute The Babylon Bee are pretty much all evangelical Christians.  But before you judge or stereotype them, let me say, they're equal opportunity satirists!  That's what makes the satire so good.  I've got a hard cover book put out by The Babylon Bee that my son gave me a couple of years ago.  It's a satire of evangelical Christian Discipleship books, and no kidding, it trashes "praise the Lord and pass the buck" televangelists who prey on the poor and little old ladies... who promote becoming filthy rich by almost any means, and who have nothing but disdain for hard working, humble, kind, generous, and sacrificial Christians.  And when it comes to politics, sure The Babylon Bee leans Right, but both the Right and the Left are fair game for their satire.

This week they released a short and potentially explosive video entitled "Woke Jesus".  It presents the "Jesus" of both the political left and religious left.  That is, a politically correct, Marxist, revolutionary, secular, inclusive, diverse, highly pro-LGBTQ, highly pro-reproductive rights, entitled, loving and yet hateful, unbiblical, anti-Christian Jesus.  

"They covered all that in just a few minutes?!"

Actually, they DID!

A friend of mine recently put something on Facebook saying he no longer likes the religious saying from the 1990s "W.W.J.D." - That is "What Would Jesus Do?"  It comes from Charles Sheldon's nineteenth century novel, "In His Steps".  That's a good book.  And the idea of asking "What Would Jesus Do?" prior to making any major decision is a great idea.  But my friend Brian doesn't like that saying anymore because the Jesus many of today's people are thinking about when they ask "W.W.J.D." is not the Jesus of the Bible.  It's the Jesus The Babylon Bee presented this week.

I have some very WOKE friends and relatives who argue they admire and act like the real Jesus.  That Jesus is actually the Jesus which the "Woke Jesus" video illustrates.  I challenge such people to slowly read Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John over maybe four or five months.  Discover the Biblical Jesus.  And, sometimes the Biblical Jesus will make you uncomfortable.  He makes me uncomfortable.  In Mark chapter 7, for instance, Jesus is rather rude to a foreign woman.  He essentially calls her a "dog".  He says he hasn't come to minister to people like her, or her daughter who is demon possessed - that he's come to minister to Jews.  Now, the daughter is healed and set free of the demon.  And he does give the woman what she wants; but it's one difficult portion of Scripture!  Another tough portion of the Bible is Luke chapter 16 verses 1-13 and especially verse 8.  That's the Parable of the Unjust Steward.  For years, I would not preach on that Parable.  It commends a shrewd guy who is an embezzler, a liar, and a manipulator.  Honestly, it sounds like something Donald Trump would praise.  But it's said by the Biblical Jesus.  It took me years to truly understand that parable.  The point of it is that although the steward is a horrible person, he does know how to make the most of people and opportunities available to him.  And many times, godly Christian people don't know how to do that.  Finally, there's John chapter 2 verses 13-16 where Jesus makes a whip and goes after the moneychangers in the Temple, flipping over their tables and driving them out.  Sometimes we tell people they should have a "Christlike attitude".  So what do we do with that one?  

My main point is the Jesus of the Bible is nothing like the "Woke Jesus"!  But if you think I'm being blasphemous and trashing Jesus, I'm not!  The story of Jesus is summed up in John 3:16.  No one ever loved you or me like Jesus.  He paid the penalty for our sins on the cross.  In fact, the physical suffering Jesus endured is a cake-walk compared to the spiritual suffering he endured for you and for me.

Watch "Woke Jesus".  If you do a Search for it online, you should find it easily. Then, if you've never done so, take a few weeks and slowly read through all four gospels.  And pray, "Jesus, please reveal yourself to me!"

He will!

And I'd love to have you share the link to this post.  I think this is one of the most important things I've ever written!

IN ZACH'S LIVING ROOM

"If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men." (Romans 12:18)

I'm usually really good at composing something to post on my blog or on Facebook.  I know exactly how to begin.  I know exactly how the whole piece should flow.  I know the main point I'm wanting to express.  And, I usually know a pretty cool way to wrap it up.  

It's Wednesday afternoon and I'm sitting here "flying by the seat of my pants"!  It's humbling and it's embarrassing.  But I need to write this piece.  And I'm looking for feedback - not nasty or insulting feedback -but any thoughts you have that you think might be helpful.

On Monday afternoon, I spent two hours sitting in Zach's living room.  ("Zach" is not his real name, but I chose to use a fictitious name for him.)  I did some talking, but most of the time I listened.  Zach is 87-years-old.  I don't know if this detail is important but he looks more like 75.  He lives alone in a fairly nice, albeit small, single family home located in a suburban neighborhood about an hour's drive from where I live.  

Zach has been rather seriously hearing impaired all of his life.  He wears a hearing aid which allows him to function with reasonably good hearing.  Until about a decade ago his vision was good.  He had a driver's license and drove a late model mini-van.  But his sight declined rapidly over just a few years due to macula degeneration.  Zach has been legally blind for at least five years.  Zach has never used a computer or a smart phone.  The thought of computers is scary to him.  He does use a simple flip phone.  Zach has a service dog - a German Shepherd.  Honestly, the dog's a little scary!  Zach speaks excellent English, although English is his second language.  His parents were immigrants from a faraway country.

My father would be 101 if still alive.  Zach was a friend of my father's - probably his youngest friend.  My father, unlike my very introverted mother, was very outgoing and knew many people.  He met Zach fifty years ago at the Registry of Motor Vehicles in Boston where he worked.  My Dad tended to be very helpful to RMV customers.  They'd be so stressed out and so grateful for the help that they'd sometimes say, "You'll have to come and visit me sometime!"  And he would!  In Zach's case, they got to be very good friends.  During my father's final days on an a nursing home's Alzheimer's unit, Zach regularly visited him.

Following my father's death in 2000, I kept in contact with Zach.  Sometimes we'd go out for Chinese food.  Sometimes we'd just talk on the phone.  Zach's moved (I think) six times since 2000.  Once he moved eight states away for a couple of years but then came back to Massachusetts.  Zach has a brother and a sister who each live less than forty miles from him but his relationship with them is strained.  He has a close friend who lives fifteen miles away, but the friend, like him, doesn't drive. 

About eighteen months ago I called Zach one day, and to my surprise I didn't reach his usual voicemail message.  Instead, a robot-like voice instructed me to leave my name and number after the beep.  I did.  No call back.  I tried again a couple months later.  Same thing.  And again at least four times over several months.  My wife and sister each began asking me why I never talked about Zach anymore.  Each urged me to just go see Zach.  I wanted no part of that!  At Zach's house is a large "BEWARE OF THE DOG" sign.  And he's unable to see.  Honestly, Zach's very suspicious and very paranoid.  I imagined the channel 7 news proclaiming "Intruding minister mauled by service dog"!

A couple of weeks ago,  I tried calling Zach again.  To my shock, Zach answered the phone.  He never did that.  You always had to leave a message and he'd call back.

I nervously told him I was shocked it was really him and Live!  He wasn't amused or impressed.  Zach was usually very polite and very nice.  On this call he was irritable and angry.  He lectured me about what a selfish and uncaring person I was to just ignore him and let him waste away for a year and a half.  I feebly apologized.  He wasn't buying it.  We talked for about twenty minutes.  As the late Don Imus used to say, "It was awful"!

I did try to reassure him I'd call again very soon and I'd visit him very soon.  I don't think he believed me, but one week later I called him.  That was Monday.  I asked if I could come and visit.  He said to come at 2:30 that afternoon if I wanted to, and I did. 

Zach asked me what church near him he could visit.  Normally that's music to a born-again Christian's ears!  But I couldn't come up with a good answer.  I know of a small church less than two miles from where Zach lives.  It's pastored by a nice black man from Africa.  But Zach makes it very clear he doesn't like black people.  And there's a large church about six miles away which attracts people under age 50 and blasts loud contemporary worship music.  Zach would hate it.  If it were possible I'd bring him to church with me.  But I live far from Zach and that's not feasible.  I didn't know what to tell him.

While I was in that living room he made a point of telling me how strongly he supports the Palestinians and how horrible he considers Netanyahu and Israel to be.  I'm pro Israel!  I could sit there waving a Star of David flag!  What do you say to that?

I just smiled and didn't say anything.

At 4:30 Zach wanted me to take both of us to get Chinese food.  I told him I really needed to be going but that I'd be back and take us for a meal sometime soon.

Monday night I was exhausted!

I've been thinking a lot about Monday afternoon in Zach's living room.  As The Beatles asked many years ago:

"All the lonely people, where do they all come from?  All the lonely people, where do they all belong?"