Liberty and Justice For All

 I am not sure when I first learned the pledge of allegiance to our American flag.  I did not attend kindergarten, though most of my friends did.  So, I guess I learned it in first grade at Robert E. Lee elementary.  With a portrait of the Civil War general peering over my shoulder, I faced the flag and  tried my best, pledging to one nation “invisible.”  That made sense.  The nation seemed pretty “invisible” to me at the time. Later, I learned the word was “indivisible” and had deep meaning related to my school’s namesake. 

 I think I got the last words of the pledge right from the start: “with liberty and justice for all.”  In my childhood world, It sounded a lot like what I read in the Superman comics:  “Truth, justice and the American way.”  (DC Comics changed the motto a few years ago to “truth, justice and a better tomorrow.”)

 By design, I suppose, our pledge is short and simple. It is that last phrase that has given us trouble.  “Liberty and justice for all.”  We haven’t always lived up to it. In fact, from the very beginning, as a nation, we have fallen short.  Just ask the Native Americans whose treaties were repeatedly broken and, after roaming the hills, plains and mountains of this continent for thousands of years, found themselves herded onto reservations. 

 Or ask the African Americans, whose ancestors were captured, shipped to our shores on slave ships and for two centuries were property, bought and sold for profit.  It has taken us a century and a half following the Emancipation Proclamation and the 13^th amendment to achieve significant advances in civil rights. Still, every time we remove our caps, cover our heart and repeat the pledge, those words both inspire haunt us, “liberty and justice for all.” 

 I guess this is why I am disturbed that our government is suddenly backtracking on efforts to include people who are not like us.  I am disturbed that our government mistakenly scooped up Kilmar Abregp Garcia who is married to a U.S. citizen, father of a 5 year old, living here under the protection of our law and shipped him off with gang members to El Salvador. I am even more disturbed that after a federal judge ordered his return, our government says they can’t or won’t do anything to right the wrong he and his family have suffered. Even though our nation is paying El Salvador $6 million to incarcerate these men, they say it is out of our hands. The Justice Department attorney who admitted the government’s error has been placed on leave by the Administration.

 Who are we becoming?  What are we becoming? 

 The Bible has a lot to say about accepting others and treating them with respect.  “There is no longer Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female for you are all one in Christ Jesus,” (Galatians 3:28).  Jesus always practiced inclusion of the poor, the downtrodden, the racially rejected, the moral outcast. This was largely what got Him into trouble.  He condemned arrogance, greed and injustice of every kind.

 Maybe “liberty and justice for all,” is best summarized in the golden rule that He gave us, another “pledge” we learned as children: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (Matthew  7:12).

Good and Evil in the Garden

 The first blossoms and blooms have appeared on the trees.  Seedlings have raised their heads from the soil.  Spring is coming!  There is something therapeutic about digging in the dirt, sifting the soil through our fingers, planting seeds and seedlings that flourish in the sun,

 When I lived in Minnesota, I always had a garden.  I guess it was “our” garden, my daughter and mine. She was seven when we moved to Minnesota. Every spring we would pick out what we would plant and, after I spaded up the earth, we would plant our garden together:  cilantro, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, cabbage.  One year we grew a pumpkin two feet in diameter.  We tried okra, but apparently it needs the searing heat of Texas.   Rhubarb didn’t require planting, it just volunteered itself every year.

 I wasn’t a very good gardener. After the ground was turned and the garden planted, we pretty well left it alone, and it grew. That is what things do in Minnesota.  Long days of sunlight, pleasant summers and occasional rain. Things just grow.

 But, the same conditions that cultivate vegetables also stimulate weeds.  By harvest we had a wonderful crop of both.  Our whole family would visit the garden like children on an Easter egg hunt.   Searching among the weeds we celebrated the discovery of tomatoes, squash, cabbages and a “great pumpkin,” hiding among the weeds. 

 Jesus used a similar image to help us understand the mystery of good and evil in the world: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field.  But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away.  When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field?  Where then did the weeds come from?’ ‘An enemy did this,’ he replied.  The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’ ‘No,’ he answered ‘because while you are pulling the weeds you may uproot the wheat with them.  Let both grow together until the harvest.  At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into the barn.’” (Matthew 13:24-29).

 The world is kind of like our gardens. Evil flourishes in the world, like the weeds.  It dominates the news and grabs the headlines. But hiding among the weeds are the vegetables, those things that are good, righteous, wholesome and healthy.  In every situation where it appears that evil will triumph, we find, hidden beneath the headlines, acts that are heroic and sacrificial, acts of forgiveness, kindness, goodness and faith.

 Someday the harvest will come.  When John introduced Jesus, he said, “One is coming who is mightier than I, and I am not fit to untie the straps on His sandals; ... His winnowing fork is in His hand to thoroughly clear His threshing floor, and to gather the wheat into His barn; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”  (Luke 3:16-17).

Tinsley's Civil War Novel, Bold Springs, is Free as an eBook on Amazon April 1-5. Chosen Best Christian Historical Fiction by Readers Favorite 2022.  

Choosing The Better Portion

 We love celebrating birthdays with our grandchildren.  After the candles are blown out and we have all joined in singing “happy birthday,” it is time to cut the cake.  The birthday celebrant gets to choose the “better portion,” usually the corner slice or the one with the most icing.  The younger the child, the more likely they are to make an honest choice.  As we grow older, we defer, out of a desire to be polite or to conceal our gluttony.

 But, really and truly, we all secretly, if not overtly, want the better portion.  Almost all advertising is based on this premise, promising the better portion if we choose their product or their service.  

 In the Bible an interesting scene unfolds in an obscure home on a side street in Bethany, a quiet village just beyond the Mount of Olives, only two miles outside Jerusalem.  It was Jesus’ favorite place to stay when he was visiting the holy city.  The house was the home of two sisters and a brother: Mary, Martha and Lazarus. 

Dinner was approaching and Martha was doing her best to cook up enough food to feed fifteen people, Jesus, his 12 followers and her own family.  Outside, the men were deep in conversation and, in their midst sat Mary, Martha’s sister.  Finally, Martha had enough.  She burst through the door and demanded Jesus tell her sister to come help in the kitchen.  But Jesus shocked everyone in the room with his response.  “Martha, Martha you are anxious and worried about so many things and Mary has chosen the better portion,” (Luke 10:41).

 I often wonder what happened next. The Bible doesn’t say.  We know that Jesus loved Martha.  John wrote, “Jesus loved Martha and her sister,” (Luke 11:5).  I suspect he got up and helped her.  Surely, he who washed the disciples’ feet would not leave Martha in the kitchen alone.

 This event gives us insight into what we all can learn about choosing the better portion.  We choose the better portion when we turn from worry and distraction to simplicity.  Like Martha, I am often worried about things that never happen.  And, like Martha, we are often pulled in many directions trying to meet obligations.  Mary had chosen simple delight, sitting at Jesus’ feet.  Life should be lived with delight, experiencing God’s pleasure.  Repeatedly the Scripture says that God took great pleasure in Jesus: at his birth, his baptism and his transfiguration. Jesus said it is the Father’s pleasure to give us the kingdom! (Luke 12:32). 

 Every day I meet people who are living life out of obligation or delight.  I see it in the faces and hear it in the voices of workers at the fast food restaurants or employees and various businesses.  Some are doing what they do out of obligation. They don’t want to be there. They don’t like their job or the people they work with.  Others are working out of delight, enjoying what they do, happy to be of service.  Every day I can choose to live my own life out of obligation or delight.

 Most of all, Mary chose the better portion because she chose Jesus.  I often wonder what Martha and Mary remembered about that day Jesus visited.  Martha would remember a frustrating day full of obligation, the hot kitchen and the stress of entertaining her guests.  Mary would remember Jesus, the look in his eyes when they met hers, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand and the words that he spoke.  What do we remember at the end of the day?  What will we remember at the end of life’s journey? Are we choosing the better portion?

What We Learned From Covid

 It is hard to believe it has been 5 years since Covid brought the world to its knees. On March 21, 2020 my wife and I invited a group of our neighbors to bring their lawn chairs and meet in our driveway.  Ten of us showed up and positioned our chairs 6 feet apart.  A few had met, but most did not know each other.  Our neighborhood was typical of most suburbs. We passed each other coming and going to work, then disappeared into our garages.  We occasionally saw each other walking our dogs, but we rarely spoke. Faces might be familiar, but we didn’t know each other’s names. But that Saturday was different.  Under the ominous cloud of the Coronavirus, our neighbors were hungry to meet each other, to talk and to share.

 The group included a widow in her 70s, two young couples in their 20s, a couple in their 30s recently moved from Philadelphia and a couple in their late 40s, recently married and adjusting to a blended family.  My wife and I had been married more than 50 years. The gathering was not somber. There was much laughter. One couple brought gifts of toilet paper with a card: “Just a little something to show that we got your back.”  But there was a serious undercurrent, not knowing what comes next. We each introduced ourselves and shared how the COVID crisis was affecting us and our families. At the end, I led the group in prayer.

 Five years later many who assembled that day have become like family.  The two couples in their 20s are now in their 30s. One couple has given birth to 2 bright boys.  The other had a beautiful daighter.  The teenagers who were home have grown up, gone off to college and are finding their way.

 We learned some lessons during Covid. We discovered that the place to which we can turn in a crisis is to God and to one another. We discovered that more than big government, more than money, we need people. We need our families.  We need our neighbors, and we need God.  Instead of seeing a society implode in anger and frustration and chaos, we watched people step up to stand in the gap.  We looked for ways to encourage one another, to support each other. Everyone wanted to help. 

 Jesus taught us this amazing truth about human nature centuries ago when an arrogant young lawyer asked him, “Who is my neighbor?”  He replied by telling the story of the Good Samaritan. Across the ages in every culture where the message of Christ has been told, that story has enabled people to overcome and withstand the most severe catastrophes.  Instead of “passing by on the other side,” instead of just thinking about our own interests and concerns, we must stop and help somebody for whom we can make a difference.

 One of my neighbors reminded me that often Jesus stopped to help just one. That’s what we needed to do 5 years ago.  That is what we need to do today. That is what we each can do in these uncertain times, like the Good Samaritan. (Luke 10:25-37).

Bill's book, Bold Springs, is Free as an eBook on Amazon March 18-19.  Chosen best Christian Historical Fiction by Reader's Favorite in 2022. 

What We Can Learn From the Birds

 I grew up in Texas, often wakened by the rasp of blue jays outside my window, frequently entertained by mockingbirds with their collection of stolen songs.  Buzzards circled in the sky, high overhead on hot summer days, riding the wind, barely moving their wings.

 When we moved to Minnesota the Canadian geese migrated to and from the fields passing low overhead.  I could hear the wind in their wings. When I visited the Boundary Waters a bald eagle built her nest in a lone tree on a rocky island less than 50 yards from our camp.  She circled overhead, the sun glistening off her white head.

 We owned a beach house for a few years on Galveston Island.  I never tired watching the sea gulls balance on the wind, descending to the shallow surf where they laughed and danced on stick legs. They seemed to think it was hilarious. The pelicans swooped in squadrons over the breaking waves. One or more would suddenly drop in a vertical dive, splash in the surf and return to the sky with an unsuspecting fish.

 In Colorado our house looks out on an open marsh.  The red-wing black birds are already returning to build their nests in the tall grass.  As in Minnesota, the Canadian geese occasionally fill the sky from one horizon to the other. Two sparrows built a nest in our bird house. A pair of Robins selected a low limb in the Aspen out front. Finches and an occasional Chickadee visit our window feeder.

 In every region and every climate birds survive and thrive.  They are masters of the air, the forests, the land and the sea. No wonder Jesus encouraged us to “consider the birds.”

 “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26).

 “Do not fear those who kill the body but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.  Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows,” (Matthew 10:28-29).

 He who cares for the birds of the air will doubtless care for you.  You are of great worth to God.   Look to the birds and listen to their song. 

God's Metrics

We live in a world of metrics. We are obsessed with measuring progress in almost every area of life. The business world has created an entire glossary of terms for measuring CPM (Corporate Performance Management), ROI (Return on Investment), Churn Rate (the measure of customer or employee attrition over a specified time), EBITDA. (Earnings Before Interest, Taxes, Depreciation and Amortization), to name a few.

Our most recent metric seems to be money measured in the billions and trillions of dollars.  Thousands of Federal employees have been laid off in what DOGE claims to be cost-savings efforts.  The three-year war in the Ukraine seems to have come down to billions of dollars in mineral rights.  A trade war over tariffs has erupted between the U.S., Canada, Mexico and China.

Education has long used measurements to determine a student’s future.  Any student with ambitions beyond secondary education is familiar with the stress and importance of the SAT, ACT or, to enter graduate school, the GMAT, GRE, LSAT and MCAT.

Sports is filled with metrics. Hundredths of a second separate sprinters, downhill skiers, bobsledders and speed skaters on the podium.  PGA golfers are rated by average score, percentage of fairways hit, greens in regulation, putts per round and many others. Baseball is synonymous with statistics: RBI, OPS, BA, BB/K, ERA, etc. The list is long.

 If measurements are so important in other areas of life, it might be good to know God’s metrics. How does God measure success or failure?

Most of us assume that God’s measurements are limited to religion: church attendance, offerings, budgets, building, religious ceremonies and service. Surprisingly, according to the Bible, these things are not God’s primary concern.

The prophets taught that God could care less about religious ceremonies. In Amos, God says, “Even though you offer up to Me burnt offerings and your grain offerings, I will not accept them; …Take away from Me the noise of your songs; I will not even listen to the sound of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

In Isaiah, God says, “I hate your new moon festivals and your appointed feasts. They have become a burden to Me; … when you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide My eyes from you; … Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from My sight. Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, reprove the ruthless, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”

When Jesus confronted the religious leaders of his day, he reproved them for focusing on religious disciplines.  “You have neglected the weightier provisions of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.  These are the things you should have done.” (Matthew 23:23).  

Cemetery

 Cemeteries can be fascinating places. The monuments and tomb stones bear record to generations who inhabited the spaces we now inhabit, walked the same streets, climbed the same hills, breathed the same air.  I once walked through the cemetery with my father-in-law and listened as he told stories about his friends and family who were buried there.  My wife and I now visit his grave and her mother’s buried side-by-side in that same cemetery.

 Some years ago, I attended a conference in Boston and stayed at the historic Omni Parker House Hotel.  With a bit of free time on my hands, I ventured outside, crossed Tremont Street and wandered into the Granary Burial Grounds, the third oldest cemetery in Boston established in 1660.  Some of America’s founding fathers are buried here: Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, John Hancock and five victims of the Boston massacre along with Benjamin Franklin’s parents.

 As I wandered among the grave markers I was struck by the contrast.  Those gravestones that were erected in the late 1600s bore images of skulls and cross bones. They appeared stark and painful.  But in the early 1700s something changed. The images were replaced with angels and cherubim along with Scripture quotations. They radiated hope and expectations for heaven.

 I wondered what happened to cause the change.  Why were those buried in the late 1600s interred beneath morbid markers while those who died in the 1730s and later had gravestones symbolizing hope of heaven?  The only explanation seemed to be the Great Awakening.

 The earliest beginnings of the Great Awakening can be traced to Gilbert Tennent who founded a “Log College” In Pennsylvania in 1727 to train Presbyterian preachers.  The “Log College” was later named “Princeton.”  The awakening took wings in the 1730s on the preaching of John and Charles Wesley, the founders of Methodism, and George Whitefield, whose sermons were widely published by his friend, Benjamin Franklin. The Great Awakening changed the spiritual fabric of the Colonies and transformed the way people viewed death.  Death released its grim grip of despair and was replace by the hope of heaven through faith in Jesus Christ.

 Every generation must face its own mortality.  As we age, we must say goodbye to parents, fiends, brothers and sisters. Every generation must find its own faith.  As someone said, God has no grandchildren. We must experience our own spiritual awakening that connects us to the most important event in human history.  As was written 2,000 years ago, “But now Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who are asleep. … O death where is your victory?  O death where is your sting?  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:20, 55-57).  

Bill Tinsley's book of poems, People Places and Things is FREE February 25-27 on Amazon Kindle.