Passions of the Soul

There's More to the National Anthem

Most Americans know the first verse to the national anthem, "The Star Spangled Banner." Many of the celebrities who sing it at sporting or other events mess it up in a variety of ways, but most of us know the song. The first verse, that is, as that is most commonly all that we ever sing or hear.

I have heard, possibly even sung, other verses, but I don't believe I was ever required to memorize them in school. Yet, Francis Scott Key had far more to say, when he wrote that poem, that night, on board a boat off shore, watching the battle rage on shore.

You may already have seen this YouTube video of a former Marine and patriot at a Tea Party gathering. No one knew what was coming, as this gentleman sang so well the fourth verse of this song. Here are the words to that verse, in case you have any difficulty understanding them as he sings:

O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

 

"Christianity" at its worst

Unfortunately, this kind of representation always manages to make the news and travels all over the place, through TV, the Internet, e-mails...no doubt Twitter....  It's worse than bad news:  Through extreme ignorance, self-righteousness, and a willful ignoring of scripture, itself, such attitudes misrepresent the Christ we love and serve.

Psalm 42:5-7

We are told to praise the Lord in all things.  That's a cinch, when everything is looking good, but a challenge for some of us, when it isn't.  But contrary to the references to being downcast, I am not...exactly.  Disquieted, yes.

(5)    Why are you downcast, O my soul?
            Why so disturbed within me?
        Put your hope in God,
            for I will yet praise him,
            my Savior and (6) my God.

        My soul is downcast within me;
            therefore I will remember you
        from the land of the Jordan,
            the heights of Hermon--from
                Mount Mizar.

(7)    Deep calls to deep
            in the roar of your waterfalls;
        all your waves and breakers
            have swept over me.

Praise

Psalm 146

1 Praise the Lord.

2 Praise the Lord, O my soul.
      I will praise the Lord all my life;
      I will sing praise to my God as long
         as I live.

3 Do not put your trust in princes,
      in mortal men, who cannot save.
4 When their spirit departs, they return
      to the ground;
    on that very day their plans come to nothing.

5 Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
      whose hope is in the Lord his God,
6  the Maker of heaven and earth,
      the sea, and everything in them--
      The Lord, who remains faithful forever.
7 He upholds the cause of the oppressed
      and gives food to the hungry.

Not to speak ill of the dead...

I know.  We're not supposed to do that.  But some folks whom I know to be good people, with a good sense of values, are all broken up because a certain former star is dead, and it's all I can do not to gag.  Literally.

We have a real problem with hero worship, in this country.  Primarily, in my opinion, too many people make heroes of other people who are morally and spiritually bankrupt, but because they have some particular talent or skill and the resources to showcase themselves, the crowds go wild.  Scandals can arise and center on these stars, and they somehow get off easily, or at least, too lightly.  Their fans are all too willing to overlook the criminal activities, whether drug-related or involving such horrors as pedophilia or cruelty to animals, as long as their hero is allowed to continue singing/playing football (or some other sport) or doing whatever she or he does that drives the fans wild.

To put it another way, fans will tolerate, excuse or ignore behavior in their undeserving hero that they would not tolerate, excuse or ignore in a spouse or significant other.

There was a time, in this nation, when the heroes were the policeman, fireman, soldier, or any other person who acted in a selfless manner to the benefit of other people, known or unknown.  I'm thinking of the late Sgt. Eric Hite, who was a Tucson police officer.  Hite was killed last year in the line of duty by a young man who was well-armed and had led police and sheriff's deputies on a lengthy cross-town chase.  Sgt. Hite was a bona fide hero, and many people still mourn his death.  All who had known him spoke of his selfless commitment to his job--first in the Air Force, and then with the police department; his devotion to his wife and 1-year-old daughter; his concern for the officers under his supervision; and most significantly, his all-out commitment to Jesus Christ.

I will not be watching any of the displays of hero worship on television, tonight or at any other time, for a man who--again, in my opinion--did not deserve the kind of devotion lavished on him in life, and now in his death.  I suppose we will be treated to hearing about him every year, just as we hear about Elvis and other "icons" of entertainment, too.  And, one day, the U.S. Postal Service will create a new stamp in his honor.  Sigh.

Good fun!

If you like piano music, either to play, listen to, or both, you will like this.  I think they had done this, before!

A Boy, His Mom, His Music

Title:  Rex:  A Mother, Her Autistic Child, and the Music That Transformed Their Lives
Author:  Cathleen Lewis
Publisher:  Thomas Nelson
Publishing date:  2008

Imagine yourself a young woman in her late-20's to early-30's, a newlywed and expecting your first child.  It is an easy pregnancy with no hint of any problems.  Life is good until, three weeks prior to term, the telephone rings.  The doctor you saw that morning tells you the latest ultrasound shows a cyst on your baby's brain.  Surgery will be necessary soon after your child is born.  But this is only the beginning of challenges for which you are utterly unprepared.

This was Cathleen Lewis's experience.  Surgery took place eight weeks after Rex was born.  With the cyst presumably resolved, Lewis was unprepared for what lay ahead.  The next few years offered a seemingly endless parade of new medical terms for diagnoses and conditions she had never heard of and must learn to live with, with Rex.  But not all was dark.

Rex received a music keyboard, a Godsend, on his second birthday.  Music and rhythm proved to be highly effective calming agents for his autistic behaviors and emotional swings.  Far more than that, however, Rex quickly became "king" over the keyboard.  Rex is a musical savant.  But it seemed to me that his musical brain also allowed him to develop physically, cognitively and socially to defy many of the dire predictions made in his first three years.

In the book, Lewis takes the reader through all the stages of learning, setbacks, triumphs and disappointments for herself and for Rex.  Along the way, she realizes that, at her son's core, he knows pure joy.  In the words of one of his first piano teachers, Rex seemed to embody "a touch of the divine."

I intended to write this review when I finished my first reading, but the story of how Rex progressed so captivated me that one reading of the book was insufficient.  Even after my second reading, I struggle to stick to a review, rather than unfolding the storyline.  I believe that struggle testifies to the power of the story.

I highly recommend this book, but with a caveat or two:  Rex's story may seem to offer hope for parents with an autistic or brain-damaged child, but for most, it is a hope that will never be fulfilled.  On the other hand, parents with a challenged child may be encouraged to stretch themselves and their child beyond grim prognoses.  Read Rex... for what it is:  the story of how God used an extraordinary gift of music to lift Rex and his mother into a life of blessings, for themselves and for others.

Down in the valley

One of those self-defeating things Christians sometimes fall into is the pressure, mostly perceived in error, to be always up, always fantastic!  Perish the thought that other people, especially other Christians, would know that, sometimes, we're about as far from fantastic! as one human could possibly go.  And when you're down, does it help, do you feel better, when someone says, "Smile!  It could be worse!"  No, it doesn't help me, and I don't feel better.  Ticked off, more likely.

The folks behind Compassion's blog have invited us to participate in a contest by blogging about one of our "peaks" or "valleys."  I don't care about winning the contest; I just want to write about a recent time in the "valley," in the hope that someone else who may be there, now, will find some encouragement.

At the beginning of August, I fell into a valley so deep that I could hardly see the sun, for about two weeks.  I've written, before, about the cause, but here is what my visit to the valley was like.

On or about August 1, my incredible niece got the word that she probably had thyroid cancer.  We had known of the possibility for a couple of weeks, but I was so sure that she might just have a different thyroid problem that I was not prepared for cancer.  It was a Saturday, when we heard.

Bruce and I went to church the next morning.  We went to our usual place, Bruce sat down, and I went to check in as an usher and communion server.  I made it to the top of the aisle, where I encountered our executive pastor, Roger Blumenthal.  "Hi, Vicki, how ya doin'?"