Philippians 4:15-23
November 25, 2006
4:15 And as you Philippians know, at the beginning of my gospel ministry, when I left Macedonia, no church shared with me in this matter of giving and receiving except you alone. 4:16 For even in Thessalonica on more than one occasion you sent something for my need. 4:17 I do not say this because I am seeking a gift. Rather, I seek the credit that abounds to your account. 4:18 For I have received everything, and I have plenty. I have all I need because I received from Epaphroditus what you sent – a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, very pleasing to God. 4:19 And my God will supply your every need according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus. 4:20 May glory be given to God our Father forever and ever. Amen.
Final Greetings
4:21 Give greetings to all the saints in Christ Jesus. The brothers with me here send greetings. 4:22 All the saints greet you, especially those who belong to Caesar’s household. 4:23 The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.
Apparently the church at Philippi was the only one of the churches that “shared with me in giving and receiving.” What did that mean? The giving part is fairly obvious; they sent gifts of support to Paul to help him in his ministry. The receiving may refer to Paul’s gift of the gospel to them.
Paul accepted their gifts with gratitude - as “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, very pleasing to God.” From this passage I learn that I can be confidently generous in my giving, being certain that God is looking after my needs. -sdg-
Five Generations
November 23, 2006
Son and first-time grandfather Larry posted this. There is nothing I can add.
Riverside Rambles: Larry Ayers’ Weblog » Five Generations
Dave, looking forward to Thanksgiving dinner.
Yesteryear’s pheasant
November 17, 2006
This paragraph in one of today’s WSJ articles triggered a bunch of memories.
The pheasant has long been the iconic game bird of the Midwest, featured on collector plates and tavern signs. In the postwar years, pheasants were everywhere, and returning GIs hunted the tasty bird in record numbers. A male, or cock, pheasant weighs about three pounds and can fly at speeds exceeding 45 miles an hour, making it a challenge to shoot. Hunting them often turned into a social occasion, drawing in friends and family from far away.
In the late 1950s and early 1960s we lived in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and I fell in with a group of fellow Collins Radio guys who hunted pheasant in central Iowa cornfields about 30 miles west of town. Before I got involved they had befriended several farmers who let them hunt their corn fields. They would pay a visit before pheasant season started, which was usually during the period the farmers were cutting corn, and find out where they had flushed birds while harvesting.
This all sounded like fun, so I bought a 12 gauge pump shotgun and shot up some clay pigeons. It was fun, and I looked forward to joining the gang on the first day of pheasant season in October.
I’ll never forget that first trip. We drove west early to be in position before the sunup shooting hour. As we stood waiting and shivering along the road, ready to string out and walk through the cornfield when it was legal to shoot, we noticed that every fence and treelimb was black with pheasants. We thought they were letting the dew dry off their wings in the first rays of the rising sun, but that’s just speculation. We also thought we would have some easy shooting as we waited for starting time.
As the magic hour approached, the birds started flying off, scattering to all parts of the cornfield and disappearing from sight. That didn’t bother us too much, because we were sure we would flush them right and left as we walked the cut corn between two swaths of standing corn.
Finally we strung out and started walking slowly across the field. I should say stumbling across, and if you have ever walked across a field of cut corn, you will know what I mean. The stalk-stumps create natural tripper-uppers that makes walking a real chore. Even before we flushed our first cock pheasant (hens were everywhere, and somehow they knew they were protected) the shotgun felt heavier and heavier, and my legs were aching. In those days I got little exercise except for working my slide-rule.
Finally, a bird shot into the air right in front of me. I shakily pointed my 12-gauge in his direction, closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. Somehow the dumb bird got in the path of one of my scattered bird-shot and he went into a death glide. The instant he hit the ground about 30 yards ahead he disappeared. We finally found him another 30 yards from the point of impact, and I learned quickly why hunting behind dogs is a very good idea. We had no dogs.
Next came a lesson in field-dressing a pheasant. I’ll spare you the gory details, but it is really quite easy. For me, not the pheasant.
We continued on, and by sunset I was one tired engineer. The gun weighed a ton, and I could barely keep on raising my boot-shod feet over the laydown cornstalks. Pooped was the word.
We dropped a dozen or so pheasants that day, but I only got that one first bird. When we got back home, one of the more successful hunters gave me a second bird to go with mine, so I took two birds home to Marilyn so she could satisfy her great yearning to cook pheasant. You can ask her how excited she was some other time.
On another hunt, we were walking slowly across a field, guns at the ready and with itching trigger fingers, when we suddenly saw another string of hunters walking toward us in the opposite direction. Somehow no one got peppered with birdshot, and we explained that we had permission to hunt and they didn’t. Fortunately they decided not to argue with us. Another reason to hunt with a dog.
A few years later, son Larry went with me, reluctantly, to do some hunting just north of town. You can ask him how impressed he was when I downed a bird and brought it home to be duly stuffed and baked for dinner.
I hunted off and on until we moved to Quincy and I discovered that the hunting here is for quail and not pheasant. I tried it once or twice, but I discovered that my sluggish pheasant reflexes just didn’t work for quail exploding and scattering from underfoot.
It wasn’t long before I got rid of my guns and consigned my short hunting career to the past and turned to fishing for my outdoor fun.
Dave, giving his face a slap and returning to the present.
Tongan War Dance
November 16, 2006
This is from page one of today’s WSJ. Anyone with even a passing interest in Polynesian culture will love this article. My passing interest comes from enjoying a tour of the Polynesian Cultural Center on Oahu a few years ago (quite a few, now that I think of it).
A Tongan War Dance Enlivens Football In Euless, Texas - WSJ.com
BEDFORD, Texas — For as long as anybody can remember, the stereotypical Texas high-school football player has been the saddle-tough son of the West Texas prairie.
So imagine a recent evening when the Odessa Permian Panthers, whose historic dominance of Texas football inspired the book, movie and TV series “Friday Night Lights,” looked across the field and saw the rival Trinity Trojans doing a Polynesian war dance.
At the sound of a tone blown over a large conch shell, 17-year-old senior defensive tackle Alex Kautai threw off his helmet, freeing a mane of curly black hair. He shouted several sentences in a foreign tongue and waved his arms as 93 visibly agitated teammates gathered behind him on the sidelines.
On cue, they dropped into a wide, crouching stance and began the ritual known as the haka. “Ka Mate! Ka Mate! Ka Ora!” (We’re going to die! We’re going to die! We’re going to live!), they chanted in unison as the fans went wild. For the next 60 seconds, the players acted out an ancient battle in which a big hairy man saves the life of a Maori chieftain.
With each phrase, the players slapped their thighs, arms or chests. They stomped back and forth, symbolically thrusting and jabbing at the enemy. At the end of the dance, Mr. Kautai jumped in the air and landed on one foot, his right fist in the air and his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he sneered fiercely.
It looks to me that Texas high school football will never be the same. It’s a wonder that the Bedford team can find any team willing to play them.
Dave, trying to wag his tongue, Tonga style.
Evangelical penguin
November 12, 2006
My operating system of choice for many years has been one of the many flavors of Linux, the most recent being Kubuntu, one of the Debian family of Linux distributions. Operating systems are just software, of course, and as such they have no soul. Linux works just as well for the pornographer as for the evangelical Christian. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I am an unabashed Christian, and I try to put my copy of Kubuntu to work in a way that will not make God blush or worse.
You may know that the symbol of Linux is a cute little penguin, and he has hundreds of relatives who keep popping up on Linux-related blogs and websites.
Patience now, I’m getting there.
There are several variants of the Ubuntu linux distribution, one being Xubuntu, which bills itself as “Linux for Christians.” It’s really much like all the rest of the Ubuntu family, except it adds some Bible study programs and religious literature. The Xubuntu people also came up with an evangelical penguin, and I promptly stole him for my use. Here, finally, he is:
I have a page in the sidebar called Dave’s Bible Diary, and that is where Bible Tux resides on this blog site.
Dave, still adding to his Bible Diary from time to time.
Go west, old man
November 12, 2006
What conclusions should I draw from this scholarly research? That old men are mostly rats? That the beneficial results from a trip to the left coast are cancelled out when I return?
Biology | Go west, old man | Economist.com
Jetlag can be fatal if you are flying east—and you are an elderly mouse
TINKERING with the circadian clock, the day-and-night cycle in the physiological processes of all living beings, is rarely a good idea. Poor health and accidents are more common in those who fly frequently or do shift work. Now a new study shows that the direction in which the clock is changed affects the well-being of an individual—at least when the individual is an old mouse.
Dave, checking the mirror for long whiskers.
Philippians 4:10-14
November 11, 2006
4:10 I have great joy in the Lord because now at last you have again expressed your concern for me. (Now I know you were concerned before but had no opportunity to do anything.) 4:11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content in any circumstance. 4:12 I have experienced times of need and times of abundance. In any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of contentment, whether I go satisfied or hungry, have plenty or nothing. 4:13 I am able to do all things through the one who strengthens me. 4:14 Nevertheless, you did well to share with me in my trouble.
Here Paul is saying that even though he had no sense of need, he was still blessed by the expression of concern on the part of the Philippians. How many times have I heard people say, “I don’t know what to give her. She already has everything she needs or wants.”?
A couple of things come to mind as a result of reading this passage. First, I cannot know that any person truly needs nothing and second, the purpose of my gift is not to fulfill a need but to express love. Conversely, I should receive gifts gratefully, even if the gift is “unneeded.” Maybe some day I will really learn that lesson. -sdg-
Will it be Nixon-Kissinger again?
November 8, 2006
Thank God I voted first | Guardian daily comment | Guardian Unlimited
Competence, of course, brings us back to Iraq. Apparently, and unfortunately, Bush is right that the Democrats have no “plan for victory”. (Neither does he, of course.) For national security in general, the Democrats’ plan is mostly about new cash benefits for veterans. Regarding Iraq, the Democrats’ plan has two parts. First, they want Iraqis to assume “primary responsibility for securing and governing their country”. Then they want “responsible redeployment” of American forces.
Older readers may recognise this formula. It’s Vietnamisation - the Nixon-Kissinger plan for extracting us from a mistake. But Vietnamisation was not a plan for victory. It was a plan for what was called “peace with honour” and is now known as “defeat”.
Maybe A New Direction is just a campaign document. My fear is that the House Democrats may try to use it as a basis for governing.
Beyond this gloomy borrowed thought, I have nothing to say about the election.
Dave, still thinking…
White Horse in the White House
November 6, 2006
A Mormon in the white house? I don’t quite know what to think about the “White Horse” prophecy. My Christian world-view tends to regard it as a “gift” from God that may remind us that we voters in the US usually get what we deserve. And that God may have in ironic sense of humor.
White Horse in the White House - WSJ.com
Though his family hails from Michigan and he is governor of Massachusetts, the lion’s share of contributions to likely Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney come from Utah. This is hardly surprising. More than 70% of Utah’s residents are, like Mr. Romney, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS). As fellow Mormons, they feel a special kinship with him. Some even see in him the potential to fulfill a 160-year-old premonition by Mormon founder Joseph Smith, known as the “White Horse Prophecy.”
Church prophets after Smith — who himself ran for president in 1844 — toned down the prophecy somewhat, rejecting the white horse imagery but embracing the concept of the Constitution as a divinely inspired document that will face malicious attacks from unspecified enemies. And today students and teachers in LDS Sunday school classes across the country commonly discuss the idea that the Constitution is under attack.
This is my contribution to pre-election nonsense for 2006. At least I think it is nonsense.
Dave, a voter not too keen about getting what he deserves.
Philippians 4:1-9
November 5, 2006
Christian Practices
4:1 So then, my brothers and sisters, dear friends whom I long to see, my joy and crown, stand in the Lord in this way, my dear friends!
4:2 I appeal to Euodia and to Syntyche to agree in the Lord. 4:3 Yes, I say also to you, true companion, help them. They have struggled together in the gospel ministry along with me and Clement and my other coworkers, whose names are in the book of life. 4:4 Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice! 4:5 Let your gentleness be seen by all. The Lord is near! 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything. Instead, tell your requests to God in your every prayer and petition–with thanksgiving. 4:7 And the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
4:8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things. 4:9 And what you learned and received and heard and saw in me, do these things. And the God of peace will be with you.
What an example of a pastor’s large heart this is! How could anyone not be greatly encouraged by Paul’s words?
For me, the real wisdom in this passage is contained in verse 8. The key to staying out of spiritual trouble is to think about the right kind of things. It’s really that simple; good thoughts necessarily crowd out the bad. Simple in concept, that is, but devilishly difficult in the execution. -sdg-
