What follows is a transcript of episode 201 of the Citizen of Heaven Podcast, which dropped February 7, 2022. Go to https://halhammons.buzzsprout.com to find out more. This is the Citizen of Heaven podcast #201 — Schools. I am Hal Hammons, and I am a citizen of heaven, and your embedded correspondent in Satan’s world. Thanks for checking in. We should be going to school every day. Life is full of lessons waiting to be learned. And that’s especially the case with spiritual instruction. Believe me, you don’t want to be a dropout. This week we will discuss a couple of schools in the Bible and how God’s people handled the influences they found there; the one school where attendance is absolutely mandatory; the school you run in your own home, whether you realize it or not; and the schools that are provided by churches and sabotaged by teachers. We’ll start with what I’ve been preaching. What I've been PREACHING We have lived in the suburbs for most of my life, including and especially my years as a parent. And when you’re in the suburbs, you hear a lot about “great schools.” And I have come to appreciate that that phrase is considerably more nuanced than I had thought. Some people hear code words when they hear talk about “great schools” – i.e., “not too many children of color.” Some think it means their child is less likely to take a beating on the playground, or more likely to get into a good college. Some, bless their hearts, probably think it means their child is going to actually get a good education. But I think at the core, it’s more basic than that. I think people hear about “good schools” and think to themselves, “I can send my child there 180 days a year, and that will make me a good parent.” We will get to homeschooling in about 11 minutes, but right now I want to talk about the quality of our children’s school experience from a Christian perspective. And if you’re like me, you may be surprised at what the Bible has to say on the matter. The word “school” is found exactly once in the Bible; we’ll get to that in a moment. The concept of education, though, appears numerous times – especially spiritual education. Deuteronomy 6:6-9 famously instructs parents to teach God’s commandments to their children while sitting in the house and walking down the road and in the morning and at bedtime. Much of the first nine chapters of the book of Proverbs is devoted to Solomon doing exactly that for his son, encouraging him to choose the path of faith and wisdom instead of selfishness and excess. (Solomon would have done well to listen to some of his own advice in that regard, but “hypocrisy” is another episode.) The New Testament reads much the same. Paul exhorts fathers in Ephesians 6:4 to bring children up with God’s discipline and instruction. He urges his young preaching partner in 2 Timothy 3:14-15 to remember the spiritual teaching of his mother and grandmother. You will note a theme throughout these passages: the responsibility is placed squarely on the backs of parents – not society, not systems, not government. I have no issue with farming that duty out to others who may be more qualified. But in the end, it is up to Mom and Dad to make sure the job gets done properly. And if you say at this point that the Bible passages in question have reference to spiritual instruction and not secular, I will simply point out that a considerable amount of what passes for secular education these days is specifically designed to undermine the Bible, its values, its history, and its overall credibility. To put it more bluntly, if you think your child’s secular education has nothing to do with his or her faith, you are kidding yourself. Let me share with you a success story from the Bible – that is, it is not specifically discussed in the Bible but I believe can be very safely inferred. Once upon a time, a young man named Daniel was forcibly taken from his home by unbelievers, and he and his friends were enrolled in Nebuchadnezzar’s academy -- the most ungodly boarding school in the history of education. Far worse than your local high school, I guarantee you that. They had little or no contact with their parents, no spiritual advisers, no access to traditional worship. And they did fine. How? Because God was with them – and more to the point, they were determined to be with God. If faith can move mountains, as Jesus says in Matthew 21:21, it can sustain the person of faith in an unfriendly world. That includes children. And that includes you. I said I would get back to the one appearance of the word “school.” It is in Acts 19:9, and it refers to a school run by a man named Tyrannus. It’s an odd name. It’s from a Greek word meaning “absolute ruler.” It’s where we get our word tyrant. We just mentioned a school run by a tyrant, and that one certainly was not run with the interests of God-fearing students in mind. But Tyrannus’s school seems to have been different. Paul had gotten considerable pushback from the Jews in Ephesus after trying to explain the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob more perfectly in the Jewish synagogue. Finally, as was often the case, he abandoned the effort. He preached in the school of believers for three months with little more than frustration to show for it. He preached in the school of a Gentile for two years, and all of Asia heard the gospel as a result. The precise arrangement between the church and Tyrannus is not described. All we know is, God’s people found a door of opportunity in an exceedingly sinful environment – and it was not found by holing up with the people who already knew about God. It was found by taking God’s word into their hearts and letting it take them where God wanted them to go. You will have opportunities, too – both in your children’s and grandchildren’s development and in your own, because education never stops. Don’t trust in schools or even in the church. And certainly don’t trust in me. Trust in God. Allow His word to guide you wisely through this life and on to the next. What I've been READING I do not endorse books in this space, per se. Usually I try to point out some things I like in a book, occasionally some things I don’t. But I don’t think I have discussed a single book of men in this space of which I would say, “You absolutely should read this book. Everything in it is good, and nothing is bad. If you read it well, you will be closer to God at the end than you were at the beginning.” Today I will make an exception – and not because it is the first of these books written by a friend and podcast guest. “The School of Christ” by Jacob Hudgins is excellent. If my buddy Kenny Embry has his way, it will soon be a podcast. We’ll see about that. In any case, “The School of Christ” is Jacob’s effort to draw us closer to God by setting us firmly at the feet of our Lord and Savior. He Himself said in Matthew 10:28-30, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Yes, there will be a yoke of servitude. Yes, there will be a burden of responsibility. But our Teacher tells us it will be better for us with that yoke and that burden than it would be without. And He would know, because He bore both. He knows what it is to be a servant, because He was one – to the point of giving His life as a ransom for many, according to Matthew 20:28. The “suffering Servant” of Isaiah 53 is one of the most beautiful Messianic texts in all of the Old Testament. Read it again if you need a refresher course in bearing yokes. It was His responsibility and His alone to go to the cross to atone for our sins. He calls it a “cup” in John 18:11 and says it was given to Him by His Father – not His enemies – and He was determined to drink it to the dregs. But to profit from our study in the School of Christ, we must make some radical changes in our approach to righteousness. We must start, according to Hudgins, by truly surrendering to the King of kings. We acknowledge that we are nothing so long as we are teaching ourselves. We commit, at least in principle, to surrendering everything to Him. Yes, the tuition is high in the School of Christ; we may as well acknowledge that. Nothing short of our whole heart will do in this commitment; less will surely doom us to failure. Having committed to the task, then, we are given three bits of business that likely characterized our lives before: fear, comparisons, and the control impulse. We cannot learn from Jesus while worrying about what we must leave behind, or whether someone else is doing better or worse or is giving more or less. We trust Him to give us guidance – not by letting Him by our “co-pilot,” like the bumper stickers say. It’s much more of a Carrie Underwood thing. Jesus has to take the wheel, completely and consistently. Jesus replaces these old forms with new ones – forms that may seem objectionable at first, but that are essential if we are to adopt the character of Christ. Jesus trains us in topics such as faith, prayer, childlikeness, and one of my favorites – what Hudgins calls “radical honesty.” Through all of these examples, Hudgins points out the personal example of Jesus. These are not merely concept shouted from the mountain – although He did shout many of them from the mountain. We see them fleshed out in His daily walk, his dealings with His enemies and friends, and especially in the communion that He shared constantly with His Father. This is definitely a target that is difficult to hit – but definitely it is one we can see. And seeing it, we can make our best effort. And of course, Jesus is there beside us all the way, helping us improve, helping us grow. There are advanced topics, too – things like better demonstrations of love, forgiveness and praise. Again, our education never really ends – or at least it shouldn’t. And Jesus can be a harsh taskmaster. But like that teacher back in the day who drove you crazy with what you thought were unreasonable expectations, Jesus will be the Teacher you truly love and appreciate in the end. “The School of Christ” by Jacob Hudgins. If you want my advice, get the book. But whether you do or don’t, absolutely enroll in the school. What I've been HEARING There is an increasing body of thought that our American public schools are becoming more a part of the problem than a part of the solution. Standards are dropping with regard to both academic performance and teacher accountability. The curricula seem to be more platforms for special interests than guidelines for effective and relevant instruction. And of course, there’s always the chance your child could be place in literal danger with little more than good intentions to defend them. Personally, I think all of these matters are grossly overstated – results of the preponderance of smart phones, the power of social media, and the bluster of people with political agendas. That being said, it would be silly and dangerous to say the critics of our schools don’t have a point. Standards have been lowered. Schools have been politicized – and by all parties. And yes, there have been tragedies. We are all interested in pursuing solutions. And more and more of our parents are opting for the oldest, the simplest, the cheapest, and arguably the best solution of all: to educate their children at home. I’m going to say something here that may make you mad. But hear me out. If you’re not educating your child at home, you’re a bad parent. OK, I warned you. Now stick with me and hear what I am NOT saying, first of all. I’m NOT saying it is always irresponsible, or even EVER irresponsible, to put your children in public schools or any other sort of schools. I’m saying the responsibility for your child’s education begins and ends with you. You are responsible. And whatever your child’s school is or isn’t doing, it is your duty to make sure the job gets done and done right. It’s a big part of what Proverbs 22:6 is telling us – “Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it.” You may be saying, “I don’t think Solomon was talking about reading, writing and arithmetic when he wrote that.” And I don’t think so either, although that may be part of it. I think he’s talking about the much more important lessons we learn in school – or at least should learn. Self-sufficiency. Communication. Reasoning. A sense of responsibility. And most basic of all to the education experience, an ability and desire to learn. And if you think they are going to pick all that up at the feet of strangers, 7 hours a day, 180 days a year, for 12-14 years, you are delusional. You are lazy. You are a bad parent. My mother would have been an outstanding homeschool mom. I know that because that’s essentially what she was for the first five years of my life. I could read by the time I was 3. I knew my numbers, shapes and colors. I had a general sense of national and world geography. (I distinctly remember in my early days of kindergarten thinking a red piece of the puzzle of Asia was probably “Red China.” I was wrong, but at least I knew what China was and more or less where it was. I see grown adults on YouTube all the time who can’t do that.) And it’s not that I was especially smart; it’s because my mother wanted me to learn, and she was able to instill in me a desire to learn – a desire that characterizes me to this day. She wasn’t nearly as hands-on as I moved on in my education because she didn’t need to be. I already wanted to do well, and I had learned the skills I needed to be successful. Now, I didn’t always succeed. I messed up plenty, and my grades sometimes reflected that. But then, that’s another lesson I needed to learn. And Mom was there to help me learn it, and then do better the next time. Whether you “homeschool” your children or not makes absolutely no difference to me. I gave up parenting other people’s children a long time ago. One size does not fit all. But whatever approach you take, be personally active. Take responsibility for the lives you brought or will bring into the world. I see parents all the time who are determined to let their children go in their own path. Christian parents should know better; after all, Proverbs 22:15 reads, “Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; the rod of discipline will remove it far from him.” And Solomon’s point was not that it is OK to beat your child when he acts up. His point was, your child will act up! It’s not his fault. He’s doing what children do. It’s your job to teach him to do better. That’s what parents do. And yet I see one Christian parent after another determined to prove Solomon wrong. You never know. Maybe my children will turn out to be bottom-feeding, dysfunctional, disrespectful blights and leeches on society. I have more than a hunch they won’t based on their adult life so far, but I could be wrong. But if I’m wrong, if they turn out bad, it won’t be because Tracie and I didn’t teach them better. We schooled our children. And Taylor and Kylie, if you’re out there listening, I have some bad news. We’re not done yet. What I've been PLAYING I’ve saved my favorite school for last – the Bible school. For my entire life, churches have set aside an hour or so on Sundays and another during the week separate from worship assemblies so that we can study the Bible in smaller groups. This is especially effective for children, I think, because the curriculum can be tailored to their specific ages and experiences. And it’s good to get people other than the preacher and the elders involved in the teaching program. Everyone says you learn more from teaching than you learn from sitting in someone else’s class, and I think you will find that to be true – assuming you the teacher take the responsibility to teach seriously. I think it can also be true if you the student take a rotten attitude and a lack of preparation into the other teacher’s class. But again, disrespect is a topic for another day. It must be admitted, turning little children over to teachers who often have no formal training is problematical. I will also say for the record that some of the most ineffective Bible class teachers I have known over the years were themselves professional school teachers. I’m not sure the skills set translates as seamlessly as some might believe. But be that as it may, it is hardly uncommon to hear of teachers who have trouble motivating or engaging their classes for 45 minutes at a time. I am sympathetic. And games can help. Some teachers seem to think that they are disrespecting the Bible if somehow the students in their charge actually enjoy Bible study. And I am not exaggerating here. “This is not play time! This is Bible time!” Well, I appreciate the seriousness. But I am here to tell you, you can have both. I happen to live in the same house as two Bible class teachers who are outstanding in this area, and there are many others who are equally gifted. Feel free to reach out if you would like some guidance. But actually I want to deal with the other extreme here today. Sometimes games are exactly what the critics say they are – meaningless wastes of time, efforts by lazy and ineffective teachers to keep the children from setting the room on fire during the last 10 minutes of class. And the classic example is Bible Hangman. You all know Hangman from grade school, I’m sure. Or do the kids still play Hangman? Anyway, the point is to pick a word and give the players as many opportunities to guess letters as there are body parts on the man being hanged. Kind of a gruesome game when you think about it. Anyway, Bible Hangman is the same, except with a Bible-related answer – usually the name of a Bible character. The Hammons family has a strict “No Hangman in Bible class” policy, and I urge you to adopt one as well. In a best-case scenario, the teacher vaguely confirms that the students have not completely forgotten the most fundamental aspects of the Bible story. In a worst-case scenario, you train children to think their Bible studies are what they have to do so they can do what they actually like doing. I know most children are going to tend to have that attitude anyway. That doesn’t mean we have to encourage it. Bible class time is not worship time; worship rules such as those in 1 Corinthians 14 do not apply. A certain level of boisterousness is permissible, and perhaps even profitable when it’s managed well. But it is not playtime either. The students are there to learn. And there are far more important lessons than how to spell Abraham. There are actual games on the market that have been incorporated into Bible studies – most of them of the “Trivial Pursuit” variety. Personally, I’m leery about games like that; you never know who is coming up with the answers. But there’s a much better approach. Train your teachers to do their jobs better. Identify teachers with good ideas and ask them to share. Better yet, have new or struggling teachers sit in with experienced and effective ones to see how it’s done. A “game” need not have elaborate pieces and rules; in fact, they are usually better off without them. Tracie is always saying most of her games need nothing fancier than a Sharpie and a pack of index cards. I am not prepared to accept that the Bible is a drudgery to anyone, regardless of age. It can be presented in a way that is interesting, engaging and memorable. If you are struggling to find that way, don’t settle for Hangman. By all means, don’t blame the children for acting like children. And most of all, to borrow from Galatians 6:9, don’t grow weary in doing well. Just take a deep breath, say a little prayer, and find a way to do it better.

Monday afternoon, about 5 o'clock, I took Max for a walk to the mailbox. The temperature was in the low 60s, the humidity was low, the breeze was light. I stared up into the sky and saw endless blue, streaked with wisps of white. I remember feeling intensely aware of my surroundings — the weight of my shirt, the comfortable give of the earth beneath my feet, the smell of grass, the sound of children playing. It was an amazing moment. I felt compelled to stare up into the blue and offer a feeble but heartfelt word of praise to the One who blessed me with all of it. There was no election. There were no windows being boarded up, no talking heads spewing messages of doom, gloom and despair. No future, no past. It was transcendent. It was tranquil. It was not, however, heavenly. It was no more heavenly than the bit of business I collected and disposed of a few minutes later before returning home. Heaven on earth does not exist. You won't find it on a secluded beach, or in a comfortable chair with a loved one watching a great movie, or at the business end of a syringe full of drugs, or at your mother's table eating her world-famous pecan pie. We use the phrase, I think, because we rejoice in the opportunity to escape the horrors, sufferings and inconveniences of our lives — all of which tend to be much, much more significant than the "heavenly" item or experience in question. It is a temporary respite, doomed to end but immensely appreciated in the moment. So in that sense, it is an illusion, a fake reality. That's a bad thing. But "heaven on earth" is a much more dangerous concept than that. It implies that heaven, the real one, is all about physical pleasure. "Heaven on earth" is simply a smaller version of what is to come. Worse than that, it implies the reward that awaits us after this life is over is no better than the reward we achieve for ourselves here. And since God's aid in bringing this (allegedly) heavenly circumstance to us, it weakens our faith. It teaches us to rely on ourselves for the really outstanding things. We cease to see God as the Giver of blessings (James 1:17), whether the blessings are here on earth or in a future state that is becoming more and more imaginary by the day. In short, it dumbs God down to a carnal level. It characterizes heaven in earthly terms, and vice versa. It is, in a word, profane. If using the name of God or Jesus in a casual, flippant or dismissive way, surely using the idea of heaven similarly is similarly objectionable. And it comes up more often than you might think. Phrases such as, "I'm in heaven," "a taste of heaven," and the like are common idioms in our everyday conversation. Jokes about "Saint Peter" at the "pearly gates" are as common as stories about big fish or the farmer's daughter — and typically, no more holy. And when did we get the idea that God and heaven were things to joke about anyway? On the other side of the issue, "godforsaken," "hellish," "hell on earth," "I've been through hell," and the like work the same way in reverse. The archangel Michael held Satan in reverence when they disputed over "the body of Moses" (whatever you may think that was) in Jude 9. Cartoons about weird men in red suits with horns and pitchforks do nothing to strike fear in the hearts of souls, nor do jokes about who does or does not get the air-conditioned rooms in hell. Jesus said hell was a place that would be worth gouging your eye out to avoid (Matthew 5:29). That's no laughing matter. All that said, there are foretastes of heaven here on earth. If heaven is characterized by the presence of Jesus and all His faithful ones (1 Thessalonians 4:17-18), and by service rendered to the God and Father of all (Revelation 22:4), then those experiences, limited though they may be, that we see in the flesh are heavenly. Note that all such experiences are primarily spiritual in nature, not physical — fitting for a spiritual existence on a spiritual plane. If you want to refer to our song worship as "heavenly," I have absolutely no issue with that. But let's make sure the "heavenly" aspect of it is what is drawing us. If I want melodic and harmonious tunes, I can go to the symphony. The people of God singing songs of praise and instruction, joining hearts, minds and voices in a collected effort to strive toward the prize that awaits us — surely that is "a taste of heaven." And how pretty it seems in our ears is absolutely irrelevant.

My mother's birthday is this month. I have the opportunity to share it with her to a degree that has been impossible for years — since I was in college, really. We are within easy driving range; popping over to Burnet for lunch is a real possibility. So I'm going to try to do it, as much as is possible in the pandemic era, anyway. I suppose I could just come up with a fresh set of excuses. But if changing circumstances all resulted in the same behavior, at some point someone would start questioning my intentions. And that would be reasonable. Not that I'm lunching with Mom just to appease the busybodies. But I digress. I bring this up at a moment in history when excuses abound for absenting ourselves from public worship, and spending time with brethren in general. It's a crazy world these days, and I am very much inclined to accept brethren at their word that they need to sequester themselves for health reasons. No accusations. But the circumstances will change eventually. (Hasten the day, Lord!) Will our behavior change with it? Or will we find new ways to rationalize? The best way to self-check is to examine our current behavior. If we really would like to be encourage one another, we should find new ways to connect. The public assembly is the best way (Hebrews 10:25), but there are other ways. Don't wait for better opportunities. Take advantage of what you have now. It's good practice now, and it puts you in position to take advantage of better opportunities tomorrow.

I am determined to remain apolitical in this space. But the world is determined to break down my resolve these days. In particular I refer to a group of "peaceful protesters" who I saw this week yelling and throwing various items at a police riot squad. After wrestling with my ethics for a moment or two, I have decided to try to walk the line, fine though it may be. I feel good about this decision because I will not make reference to the politics being promoted or attacked. I am genuinely concerned about my brethren who seem determined to pit themselves against their own brethren who are on "the other side" — as though we are not all on the same side. Whatever your politics, act like a Christian. 'Nuff said. My point with regard to the "peaceful protestors" is this: it is easy to lash out against people who you know for a certainty will not respond in kind. Our government is compelled time and time again to explain the level of response to such behavior — whether it be retreating, standing their ground, employing pepper spray or rubber bullets, or any other sort of nonlethal behavior. Potentially lethal response, of course, is completely out of the question. Police and other law enforcement officials will not do any significant harm to the "peaceful protesters" — and the "peaceful protesters" know it very well. They, of course, have no such limitations. The twist of lime to this story came when the K-9 units were deployed. The "peaceful protesters" backed up pretty quickly when set upon by angry German shepherds. They were under tight leash, of course; no one was bitten. But there was little doubt what the dogs would do if their handlers were careless. The word you are looking for is "cowardly." It's a weird form of bullying, really — picking on someone who is incapable of responding. It is beneath contempt. And if you seek only the approval of other bullies, throwing rocks is a pretty good way of doing it. And it's completely safe. I thank God that I live in a country where this sort of thing is possible. If these people lived in China or North Korea or Saudi Arabia, their misbehavior would be met with a very different response. And its end would be as sudden as it was messy. This level of freedom is an incredible blessing; to use that freedom as a tool to empower selfish and brutal behavior is shameful. Christians suffer immeasurably because of this phenomenon, and we always have. Because we refuse the tactics of the devil — deception, gossip, violence, and the like — we enter confrontation with the enemy at a considerable tactical disadvantage. To any rational and disinterested bystander, we come across as weak and ineffectual. It takes faith to believe the meek will actually inherit the earth, as Jesus promised (Matthew 5:5). Maybe the biggest issue is our failure to understand the nature of the "earth" God is trying to give us. Of course, the natural impulse is to look for "earthly" shopping list items — money, prestige, success, friendships, and the like. But these have never been the true incentives for God's people. Surely it makes more sense in the context of the spiritual kingdom that Jesus addresses in the Sermon on the Mount that "the earth" is a figure of speech denoting everything of consequence — which is to say, "every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 1:3). By denying ourselves, we open the door for God to shower "a greater grace" (James 4:6) — and to do so in measure too great to calculate. Just as a devoted husband might promise to give "the world" to his bride, so also God promises "the earth" to those whom He loves. So we endure despicable treatment from those who do not know better. We allow them to win a battle we refuse to fight. And in so doing, we prove ourselves to be the victors in the only warfare that truly matters.

The nature of "warnings" has changed in the last few years. I remember the day when a "tornado warning" meant someone had spotted an actual tornado. But the other day I saw a warning issued because of circumstances that were likely to lead to a tornado. Twenty miles offshore. I mean no disrespect to the fine men and women who spend quality time in boats. By all means, encourage boat captains to exercise caution in dangerous situations. But I see no need for me to hunker down in the hallway with candles and potted meat just because trouble might be out there somewhere for someone. "The boy who cried wolf" has become a cliché in our culture. "Chicken Little," too. And yet we go into panic mode at the drop of a hat, sure that the wolf is indeed at the door this time, that the sky really is falling. One day it will be true. Perhaps today it is on its way to being true. But there is a very real danger in sounding warnings when there is nothing to truly fear. It deadens our senses. It lengthens our reaction time. In short, it weakens our ability and our determination to respond properly in the case of a true emergency. Such is certainly true in the spiritual realm. Like the prophet (Ezekiel 3:17), we are encouraged and even required to awaken souls from slumber, bringing their attention to pending judgment and the consequences that will follow. But "warning" them against the potential dangers of every yellow-flag situation discredits the messenger; real warnings of real red-flag situations are ignored, and souls are lost. The solution, as always, is for everyone involved to act responsibly. Get the facts. Choose a wise course of action. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem. In such matters, thankfully, Christians have a distinct advantage over the experts (and everyone else) dealing with carnal matters. Our facts are from God. Our wisdom is His word. And by trusting in His guidance, we can be confident of our ultimate deliverance from whatever trial comes upon us — and perhaps even drag someone to safety along with us.

I've been listening to a lot more sermons than normal in recent days. (You have too, I hope.) That includes several friends of the East Hill church — Kris Emerson, Scott Taylor, and Bryant Bailles, among others. But as far as visuals go, watching men stand still and talk is not too engaging. So sometimes I watch some YouTube videos on mute while I listen. For such endeavors, I recommend high-speed jigsaw puzzle construction. Seeing a 9,000-piece puzzle come together in five minutes is pretty incredible. I was able to give the speakers due consideration, never fear. (Kris, if you're reading this, I heard your thoughts on 1 John just fine, brilliant as always, blah blah blah.) But I noticed some processes that might lend themselves to spiritual application. First, and most obviously, it takes a long time to assemble a big puzzle. Hundreds of hours, in some cases. Some hours and some days are more productive than others, most likely. There may even be major setbacks along the way. (Ever have a toddler come and shake the table when you're halfway through a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle? Patience is a virtue.) But perseverance and a focus on the goal that lies ahead will keep the dedicated hobbyist on course for the duration. Life is like that. Specific moments in time may stand out from the rest, certainly. But when looking at a life pursuit such as building a marriage, rearing children, or growing one's faith in Jesus Christ, it's much more about the "big picture." A Christian tends to get hung up on either his big successes or his big failures, depending on which end of the pessimism/optimism spectrum he may call home. But it's more about the "walk" (1 John 1:7) than any individual step. If we live every day committed to reaching forward (Philippians 3:13-14), keeping our eyes on Jesus (Hebrews 12:1-2), it will pass more quickly and more pleasantly than we may have thought possible. Second, you need a plan. The first thing the workers of these mammoth puzzles do is sort the pieces into separate piles, and usually separate containers. Edge pieces here, sky pieces there, road pieces in this place, sign pieces in that place. Keeping most of the work space clear allows the puzzle guru to address one situation at a time, bring it to completion, and move on. If she were forced to dig through thousands of pieces to find just the right one to complete Gandalf's hat, she would quit during the first hour. But plan properly (fair warning: the planning stage tends to be the least interesting part of the process), and she is set up for success. Life is like that. There is a sense in which life hands us a new challenge every day and we are forced to make the best of it. But if we are to find success in any lifelong endeavor, all our improvisation has to be done in the context of the (pardon the expression) big picture. The Bible is replete with passages regarding the collection of godly virtues and characteristics — the armor of Ephesians 6:13-17, the graces of 2 Peter 1:5-7, and the fruit of Galatians 5:22-23, just to name three. If we work every day in pursuit of such things, the moment-to-moment issues tend to fall into place. Third, you will smile when you are done. That is speculation on my part, I suppose; the faces of the puzzle-builders were not shown. But I've put puzzles together. I've spent hours and hours fitting protrusions into indentations in search of a cohesive whole. And the smile that comes toward the end of the process is irresistible. It's equal parts relief, satisfaction, and appreciation of beauty. Order has emerged from chaos. It is among the most pleasant experiences life has to offer. Again, life is like that. I would like to think we could find a certain degree of satisfaction and pleasure in our daily walk with Christ. But focusing on that too much can lead to discouragement when it is difficult to come by. It is better for us to focus on the finished product that is yet to be revealed. We want to be able to look back at a life spent in God's service and say we have "fought the good fight" (2 Timothy 4:8). If we devote ourselves to a life of faith, seeking strength from God to endure the challenging hours that life inevitably brings, we will wake up one day looking at a life that was worth living. It is a beautiful thing that God is working in us, slowly but surely. May He give us the faith, courage and endurance to finish.

I like food videos. I'm always looking to learn how to do something better. And I love anything having to do with food that does not increase my calorie count. But I have to question the credibility of some of these so-called experts. For instance, I recently ran across a link to a video about "easy crispy chilli beef." And that is not a typo. Chilli. A little part of this Texas boy died when he saw that. And it was spelled the same way in both the video title and the big, boldface words on the thumbnail. This was no accident. The person making the video thought that was how you spelled the name of one of the greatest foods on earth. Misspellings are not the greatest sin in the world. We've all been guilty; even in the era of spellcheck and squiggly red lines, I find errors in my printed material on a regular basis. But I must say in my defense, I rarely misspell anything of primal significance — the name of Jesus, for instance. And I don't do it twice in close proximity. Repeated misspellings weakens your credibility. If you don't know how to spell a topic, how much could you possibly know about it? It's not a necessary inference, but it's close. If you're resigned to being a "bad speller," quit writing. Stick to audio. No shame in that. But don't put your weakness in the spotlight. Saying the right thing is not enough — not when speaking the words of God, at least. Your attitude matters (James 3:1). Your approach matters (Colossians 4:6). Your consistency, or lack thereof, matters (Matthew 7:1-4). If you don't care enough about the words you are saying to say them correctly, perhaps you should rethink whether you should be speaking at all.

I was graced with a blast from my rock-music-listening past the other day — Bob Segar's "Shame on the Moon." I enjoyed plenty of his songs more than that one, I should say. And (James 5:16 time) I very much preferred several of his songs that were entirely inappropriate in terms of content. But a few lines from the second verse of this particular song rang true in the current climate of contagion and reaction: Some men go crazy Some men go slow Some men go just where they want Some men never go. I know the song originally had reference to the stress that comes with actually opening oneself up emotionally to a woman. (Discuss among yourselves which of these four categories best fits your husband or significant other, ladies.) But doesn't it sound today like it was written specifically to fit our dealings with the coronavirus? Some of us go crazy. The sky is falling. The Chinese planned the whole thing. There is no such thing as an overreaction; there are only people who clearly hate their fellow human beings. Some of us go slow. Jumping to conclusions only makes a bad situation worse. Consider all the facts. Let the experts do their job. Trust that there will be toilet paper next week. Some of us go just where we want. The chaos is an annoyance. We resent being robbed of March Madness and the corner table at their favorite restaurant, and we will respond by doing exactly what we want to do. Ignore the public shaming. Ignore the government. If you're not sick, don't act like you are. Cough all over the fresh produce just to annoy everyone else. Some of us never go. We quit on life. We don't go to church services (even online). We don't go to work (but we invent new ways to play). We don't go visit the sick (although they probably need our support more now than ever). Most importantly, and most fundamentally, we don't go to God. Maybe we blame Him for the current situation. More likely, though, we just show how irrelevant He really is to us. We have an unprecedented abundance of free time, and we share virtually none of it with Him. Myself, I am more or less settled into the "slow" category. It's my nature anyway. And in this situation it helps me keep the world in perspective. It especially helps me avoid the panic, selfishness and abject failures of faith I see in so many others — including many of my brethren. The sky is not falling. God holds up the sky. There are more important things than your personal agenda. It's always been true (Philippians 2:3-4); coronavirus hasn't changed that. We must go — to our neighbors and especially to God. God provides fellowship with Himself and with our brethren (1 John 1:1-3). It is a time to reinforce those ties, not to abandon them.

I'm not big into raking. I will do it when necessary, though, and I found it necessary last week. And as usual, I contracted Raker's Thumb. Yes, I completely made that term up just now. Raker's Thumb — a term soon to appear in medical dictionaries worldwide, I am confident — strikes the flap of skin between your thumb and first finger. A raw spot quickly forms, then the skin comes off, then the raker is forced to deal with a raw, sensitive spot for a week or so. It's not fatal — at least, I don't think it is. But it's irritating. I noticed, though, that I only got it on my left hand. I have a theory. Being right-handed, I think I unconsciously twist my right wrist a bit to better utilize my upper arm and shoulder. When I switch to the left side, I put more pressure on my thumb. Hence the raw spot. I don't know how many times I have raked leaves. Hundreds, probably. And I'll bet I got Raker's Thumb on my left hand only, or much quicker than on my right, every time. I just never noticed before. That's what being desperate for an article topic can do for you, I suppose. Maybe it's a lesson for me. Maybe I'm not doing things as well as I think I am. Maybe I'm hurting myself unnecessarily. Maybe correcting my form a bit could yield better results. That's why I'm always tinkering with my approach to the work. I tweaked my podcast this week, for instance. I'm preaching shorter sermons to the camera than I preached live to this point — I may stick with that. We must always stay within the parameters of the authority assigned to us in all we do; that should go without saying. (Colossians 3:17). But there is considerable room for variation within the bounds of the guidelines of Scripture. And to that point, doing what we do in His service to the best of our ability is a Scriptural mandate as well (Ecclesiastes 9:10). If a bit of improvement can be made and perhaps better results be found, exactly how would I rationalize not putting forth the extra effort?