A Theological Blog

My college friend Henry Kwant sent me this, and it was just too good not to share . . .

CHANGING A LIGHT BULB THE CHRISTIAN WAY
How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?

Charismatic : Only 1 – Hands are already in the air.

Pentecostal : 10 – One to change the bulb, and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.

Presbyterians : None – Lights will go on and off at predestined times.

Roman Catholic: None – Candles only.

Baptists : At least 15 – One to change the light bulb, and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad and fried chicken.

Episcopalians: 3 – One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks and one to talk about how much better the old one was.

Mormons : 5 – One man to change the bulb, and four women to tell him how to do it.

Unitarians : We choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb.. However, if in your own journey you have found that light bulbs work for you, you are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your light bulb for the next Sunday service, in which we will explore a number of light bulb traditions, including incandescent, fluorescent, 3-way, long-life and tinted, all of which are equally valid paths to luminescence.

Methodists : Undetermined – Whether your light is bright, dull, or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb, or tulip bulb. Bring a bulb of your choice to the Sunday lighting service and a covered dish to pass.

Nazarene : 6 – One woman to replace the bulb while five men review church lighting policy.

Lutherans : None – Lutherans don’t believe in change.

Amish : What’s a light bulb?

Well . . . God love them all! And he does! And he probably thinks that’s quite funny! There is a verse in Scripture that says, “The God who sits in the heavens will laugh . . .”, and that, more than anything else, has helped me understand, and often appreciate, the church and all of its foolishness in spite of itself.

Through The Fog

I was four years old when my dad was a blacksmith for the Pennsylvania Rail Road in Altoona, Pennsylvania. We lived in a gray clapboard house high on a hill overlooking the Juniata yards of the “PRR.” From our porch I could see trains being made up and steam locomotives belching black smoke, firing up for the long haul up the mountains around the Horseshoe Curve. Juniata was dark and dirty then, with soot from the engine smoke in the air and everywhere. In the evening, fog laced with soot would settle down in the Juniata Valley.

My dad worked at night on the third shift. I would get up in the morning and sit on the front porch, waiting for him to come home. Many mornings the fog was so thick and heavy that I couldn’t see more than six feet. On those days I would sit with my mother, waiting until I heard my dad whistling. Then she would let me step out into the fog to meet my dad.

I was enveloped by the fog. I couldn’t have found my way the few hundred feet home if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to; I wanted my dad. And so, unable to see more than a few steps in front of me, I followed the sound of my dad’s whistling, until I was in his arms. He would hand me his black lunch bucket and with grimy hands pick me up and plop me on his shoulders and carry me home.

When I haven’t always understood God’s will, or clearly perceived His path for my life, or felt enveloped by a fog I did not understand, I’ve remembered that childhood experience. I’ve followed the sound of my Father’s voice. He’s always been there, and I’ve never gotten lost.

* * * * *

This piece appeared originally back in the early 80’s when I was writing a weekly column called “Ideas For Positive Living” that appeared in about 35 weekly newspapers. Later many of these columns were published in a little book called POSITIVE LIVING IN TOUGH TIMES.

A postscript to this story. My father died at 87 a few years ago as a result of his having worked in the Pennsylvania Railroad shops. In those days asbestos was used as an insulation material for steam engine boilers. My dad would walk from the blacksmith shop through the area where they were repairing boilers where often it looked like it had snowed, but in fact the “snow” was white asbestos fiber. There is an interesting picture in the Railroader’s Museum in Altoona that shows railroad workers covered with white asbestos dust. Many of these workers, like my dad, ended up dying of mesotheleoma as a result. Apparently asbestos fibers can lurk in your lungs for years . . . I hope and pray that when I jumped in his arms as a kid, that none of the fibers from his dirty clothing lodged in my lungs as well.

Kosher

According to Wikipedia . . .

Kashrut (also kashruth or kashrus, כַּשְׁרוּת) refers to Jewish dietary laws. Food in accord with halakha (Jewish law) is termed kosher in English, from the Ashkenazi pronunciation of the Hebrew term kashér (כָּשֵׁר), meaning “fit” (in this context, fit for consumption by Jews according to traditional Jewish law). Jews who keep kashrut may not consume non-kosher food, but there are no restrictions on non-dietary use of non-kosher products, for example, injection of insulin of porcine origin.

Food that is not in accordance with Jewish law is called treif (Yiddish: טרײף or treyf, derived from Hebrew: טְרֵפָה‎ trēfáh). In the technical sense, treif means “torn” and refers to meat which comes from an animal killed by another animal, killed with a dull knife (so felt pain) or having a defect that renders it unfit for slaughter.[citation needed]

Many of the basic laws of kashrut are derived from the Torah’s Books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy, with their details set down in the oral law (the Mishnah and the Talmud) and codified by the Shulchan Aruch and later rabbinical authorities. The Torah does not explicitly state the reason for most kashrut laws, and many varied reasons have been offered for these laws, ranging from philosophical and ritualistic, to practical and hygienic.

So you can imagine that for a group of strictly Kosher Jews to take a cruise is quite a challenge! We had a group of 100 Jewish friends traveling with us on the ZUIDERDAM. Challenge? Yes, but not to worry since the ZUIDERDAM culinary staff under the direction of Rabbi Leibel Miller and his team of what I call “junior Rabbis” were up to the task. Certain areas of the ZUIDERDAM’S huge kitchens were “kosherized” and Leibel’s team of “junior Rabbis” worked with the ZUIDERDAM culinary team to create a fantastic menu and a memorable cruise. Rabbi Miller has worked with groups as large as 700 on ships, and coordinates Kosher resort events around the world.

So he invited me to lunch . . .

Being a very strict Jew has its challenges . . . well, so it appears to me, a non Jew. One of Miller’s “junior Rabbis” was the cutest kid, 19 or so, with frizzy hair, dark rimmed Harry Potter glasses, struggling to grow a beard . . . central casting would have loved him for any part in a “Fiddler on The Roof” remake. Really cool looking guy, very soft spoken. Well it turned out we were in the Canal on Saturday, Sabbath, so none of these folks could get off the ZUIDERDAM to see Panama since that was considered the equivalent of “traveling” from “one country (the ZUIDERDAM) to another (Panama)” and forbidden by their strict and literal interpretation of Levitical law. Well “Junior Rabbi” had the neatest, brand new, single-reflex-lens camera and was shooting pictures all over. So I said, “Well, at least you can get some nice pictures.” Unfortunately, no. It is forbidden to use anything electronic on the Sabbath and . . . you got it . . . a digital SRL camera is electronic. No pics.

Rabbi Miller had invited me to join he and his wife and some of his team for a Kosher lunch – excellent by the way! – and so I couldn’t help but commenting, “This religion seems like it requires a whole lot of work, maybe even kind of onerous.” Miller, who is a great apologist for his faith, explained that keeping the traditional law is far from onerous, but actually a “joy” for he and his people. They get joy out of following the traditional law and serving Yahweh in this way. They don’t consider themselves “better” for their service, or in any way superior to other Jews or non-Jews who have other lifestyles and beliefs.

We had an enjoyable lunch and I’m grateful to Miller for his insight. Rabbi Miller is also very involved in grief recovery, and so we had some common interests there as well. He was good enough to email me this picture his wife took of both of us after lunch.

Seeing stars!

Wow!

Living up on the mountain in Palmira (our little village), Boquete (our district, think county), Chiriqui (our state, founded fifty years before the Republic of Panama), Republic of Panama . . . Living up on the mountain in Panama on clear, moonless nights . . . you see stars!  Millions of them!  It is absolutely incredible.  Stunning!  Like nothing you’ve experienced in urban, built up suburban sprawl areas.  You feel like you can reach out and touch the stars!  And there really is a Milky Way!

No, I haven’t had too much rum . . . I’m writing this at 5 AM and I had to take Spot out to do her business.  And one of the reasons I go out with her early in the morning is just to be awed by the stars.

On board ship is almost the same, but not quite as good since the running lights and often a little fog obscure the stars a little.  But if you can get on the top deck, shielded from the running lights . . . wow!

My dad was always interested in the stars and from his Boy Scout days he knew all the constellations and their stories.  He tried to interest me in the stars, but he always wanted to show me the stars when we were coming home late from a meeting at church and all I wanted to do was go to bed.  So I never paid much attention or showed any interest.  I guess some things skip a generation, because my daughter, Rebecca, the naturalist, knows everything about the stars.  When she was working at the Yosemite campus of Yosemite Institute she would take kids out on night hikes and regale them with the stories of all the constellations.

So the thought for the day:

Psalm 19

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is hidden from its heat.
The law of the LORD is perfect,
reviving the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The ordinances of the LORD are sure
and altogether righteous.
They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the comb.
By them is your servant warned;
in keeping them there is great reward.
Who can discern his errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from willful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then will I be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Well, we don’t have Thanksgiving in Panama, officially that is.

But since I’m on the ZUIDERDAM with lots of folks from the USA, I will have Thanksgiving today right on schedule! Today is actually a sea day – we’re on our way back to Fort Lauderdale – and it’s really best to celebrate a holiday at sea. And Thanksgiving – someone else does the cooking and the cleaning!!

But except for expats, there’s no Thanksgiving in Panama. But this is a country where there are 21 HOLIDAYS a year! Additionally, after working one year, they get 30 PAID VACATION DAYS, plus 18 SICK DAYS, plus “13th Month”. “13th Month” is a neat scheme were by one is actually paid for an extra month’s work each year, without working – cool, huh? This is divided and paid out over the year in three equal payments. Doesn’t actually build up a “work ethic”, but hey, not bad if you can do it. But the lack of a motivated work force with a good work ethic hurts development and foreign investment, leads to high unemployment, and hurts Panama.

The “Holiday Season” starts with Independence from Columbia (November 3), then Independence from Spain (November 28). Pretty cool, TWO Independence days! The biggest holiday of the year is Mother’s Day on December 8. Then Christmas with all of it’s fireworks (big tradition here as the sky explodes on Christmas Eve!). From Christmas to New Years nothing happens. In January Boquete has its Fair of Coffee and Flowers when it’s party time for two weeks. Then comes Carnival and more partying! Forty days later is Holy Week when many businesses are closed and nothing happens. Good Friday is a legal holiday, then Easter. So from November until after Easter it’s hard to get much accomplished.

But today is the traditional US Thanksgiving . . . so what am I thankful for?

• A wife who is partner, companion and friend and who has put up with all the BS all these years
• Two great kids who I enjoy as adults and are more than I ever hoped for and a great son-in-law (our kid choose well)
• Rian Patrick Eaton, my fantastic grandson
• Two young friends who’ve kind of adopted us who, despite some real shaky years, are turning out to be neat men
• Friends, new and old
• The opportunity to be living in paradise, having fun, exploring the world, growing and enjoying the journey
• The chance to cruise the world with Holland America
• A new home to enjoy when I get back to Panama
• A Christian world and life view that helps the world make sense, believing that God loves us and has a wonderful plan for our lives, and that it’s a plan for our good
• A Hebrew cosmic view that believes in spite of all the injustice that in the end justice will triumph

That’s a lot to be thankful for!

Through The Fog

I was four years old when my dad was a blacksmith for the Pennsylvania Rail Road in Altoona, Pennsylvania. We lived in a gray clapboard house high on a hill overlooking the Juniata yards of the “PRR.” From our porch I could see trains being made up and steam locomotives belching black smoke, firing up for the long haul up the mountains around the Horseshoe Curve. Juniata was dark and dirty then, with soot from the engine smoke in the air and everywhere. In the evening, fog laced with soot would settle down in the Juniata Valley.

My dad worked at night on the third shift. I would get up in the morning and sit on the front porch, waiting for him to come home. Many mornings the fog was so thick and heavy that I couldn’t see more than six feet. On those days I would sit with my mother, waiting until I heard my dad whistling. Then she would let me step out into the fog to meet my dad.

I was enveloped by the fog. I couldn’t have found my way the few hundred feet home if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to; I wanted my dad. And so, unable to see more than a few steps in front of me, I followed the sound of my dad’s whistling, until I was in his arms. He would hand me his black lunch bucket and with grimy hands pick me up and plop me on his shoulders and carry me home.

When I haven’t always understood God’s will, or clearly perceived His path for my life, or felt enveloped by a fog I did not understand, I’ve remembered that childhood experience. I’ve followed the sound of my Father’s voice. He’s always been there, and I’ve never gotten lost.

* * * * *

This piece appeared originally back in the early 80’s when I was writing a weekly column called “Ideas For Positive Living” that appeared in about 35 weekly newspapers. Later many of these columns were published in a little book called POSITIVE LIVING IN TOUGH TIMES.

A postscript to this story. My father died at 87 a few years ago as a result of his having worked in the Pennsylvania Railroad shops. In those days asbestos was used as an insulation material for steam engine boilers. My dad would walk from the blacksmith shop through the area where they were repairing boilers where often it looked like it had snowed, but in fact the “snow” was white asbestos fiber. There is an interesting picture in the Railroader’s Museum in Altoona that shows railroad workers covered with white asbestos dust. Many of these workers, like my dad, ended up dying of mesotheleoma as a result. Apparently asbestos fibers can lurk in your lungs for years . . . I hope and pray that when I jumped in his arms as a kid, that none of the fibers from his dirty clothing lodged in my lungs as well.

Mailbag and More

John is cruising to Panama . . .

First time cruisng canal. 10 days on RCCL Jewel. We thought it would be good to stay on board for the canal experience. if you disagree what tours do you recommend. John

John, I believe JEWEL is doing the 10-day roundtrip from Florida which takes you through Gatun Locks and into Gatun Lake, where you havethe option of taking tours to see some of Panama. I definitely recommend that you GET OFF THE SHIP and take advantage of the opportunity to see a little of Panama. The trip back through Gatun Locks is exactly the same, so you’re not missing anything. If you are interested in the “canal experience” take the canal ferry tour which will take you through the other two sets of locks, under both bridges, and out to Amador before taking a bus back to the ship. RCCL uses Cristobal pier which has nice opportunities to shop for Indian crafts right beside the ship. If you are looking for a unique cultural tour, I’d recommend the Embera Indian Village tour, the longer one if they offer two. Hope that helps!

Richard writes . . .

Sarah Palin makes Dan Quayle look like the president of a MENSA chapter.

No comment.

Susan has a dream . . .

I read your blog daily from Arizona. We made our first trip to Panama in June of 2007 already determined to move there. After visiting Panama we were even more determined to move. We placed our home on the market in August 2007 and we’re still waiting for it to sell. We’ve dropped the price over 20% in that time. We visited Panama again this year and we didn’t want to come back to the US. Last week, watching the stock market take a dive, I was very frustrated watching my pension drop it’s value by 14%. I needed encouragement today and luckily the stock market is up.

We are planning on moving to Volcan where our money might go a little further. We didn’t really visit Boquete long enough to get a good feel for it. Since one of my good friends from Arizona may be moving there, we will check it out further before making a decision.

I try to keep up with what’s going on down there on a daily basis. I’ve read a lot of good and bad and we’re still very determined to make it there.

Volcan is a beautiful area, no question about it. Not quite as “developed” as Boquete in terms of stores, restaurants, and expat community, which may or may not be a good thing, but I do agree your money goes further there right now. They are, however, IMHO, on the “wrong” side of Volcan Baru should it blow its top sometime in the next 5,000 years.

Stephanie had some fashion advice on which tux to pick . . .

Hi Richard, In repsonse . . . Option #1 looks like an overcoat! It’s too long. My vote is Option 2. As for Sarah Palin, even a political endorsement from God can’t help her. She’s one shy of a “six-pack.” She’s a cocky wacko with no real experience in international politics. What to be really scared of? Not Barack Obama, but Sarah Palin withthe nuclear codes. And, she still has nothing of any importance to say, not one original thought, even now with the election being so close. And she wants to extend the duties of the Vice President??? OMB!

Stephanie, I refuse to be suckered into any more political postings . . . and don’t ask me what newspapers I read either, since I just look at pictures on the Internet . . . like this one http://www.palinaspresident.us/ You’ve got to click on the pictures, decorations, windows and door around the Oval Office for the full impact.

I’m sorry, but I did decide on option #1, the one that looks like an overcoat. I want a tux that doesn’t look like a tux.

On-Again-Off-Again-Internet

The Operations Manager for Mobilephonewas kind enough to give me a call to make sure my speed was “as promised” now that they fixed something or another. Good customer service: thank you. Now if we could just work on reliability. I hate to be in the middle of a blog . . . like tonight . . . and havethe Internet go down, yet again. And it happens frequently! Is it too much to expect RELIABLE Internet??? I want speed AND reliability. Sometimes I think someone plays with the switch turning it on and off just to see if it works.

A lot to remember, but good!

A cowboy named Gary was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in northwestern Montana when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, ‘If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you havein your herd, Will you give me a calf?’ Gary looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, ‘Sure, Why not?’

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer,connects it to his Singular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg , Germany . Within seconds, he receives an e-mail on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBCconnected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.

Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP Laser Jet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, ‘You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.’

‘That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,’ says Gary.

He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

Then Gary says to the young man, ‘Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?’

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, ‘Okay, why not?’

‘You’re a Congressman for the U.S. Government’, says Gary.

‘Wow! That’s correct,’ says the yuppie, ‘but how did you guess that?’

‘No guessing required.’ answered the cowboy. ‘You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew,to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know a thing about cows…this bunch here is a herd of sheep. . .

Now give me back my dog.

Richard… Hope you like the joke and can use it on your cruise…Jan

Thanks, Jan!

“Hello! I’m your new neighbor!”

My name is Piero Mercanti. My wife and I recently bought a coffee plantation in Palmira, Boquete, and we would now like to build a house in our land. While browsing the net we came across your web site where we learned that you and your wife just finished building a beautiful house (congratlations!!!) in Palmira, and we were wondering if you could please direct/refer us to a builder. We would like to build a house of about 100 square meters. Our hopes are to live and farm ppermanently in our land. Thank you in advance for any information or experience you can share
with us. We hope to meet you and your wife one day. Best wishes, Piero and Karina Mercanti

Piero, Other than “don’t!”?

Seriously, welcome to the neighborhood. You will like Palmira: it’s Panama! So that’s about 1000 sq ft for us non metric folks. First about architects: I’d have a US or Canadian or where ever architect draw up the working drawings, then have a local engineer make any necessary modifications for Panmaniancode and get them stamped. I’d find a builder who speaks English. I’d talk and listen and listen and listen and talk withlots and lots of expats and locals. Locals are all related to each other and will be hesitant to giveyou a straight answer, but watch for the eye roll! Everyone has a relativethey will recommend: proceed with caution! You can’t do too much due dilligence and research. Talk to people who’velived in houses the contractor has built for four or five years. I can sure tell you who NOT to use! Well, I can’t, but talk to me and watch my eyes roll! The only really good – so far – contractors I’ve heard about are Patty & Luis – Jeff Simon is their cheerleader. Both have engineering degrees from Texas A&M, summa cum laude I believe. His is in electrical engineering. They’ve done some good work and I should have picked them, but they were $40K more, however . . . They have a number of big jobs in progress and the real question is if they will be able to continue to perform as their work load increases. A common problem in Panama is operations that get too big too fast and can’t continue to deliver.

Gutsy lady!

Hello Richard. My name is Joanne and I have been a long time reader of your blog and thought I would drop you a line before you say “Bon Voyage” in November. I have been following your trials and tribulations of building your beautiful new home in Palmira and the nightmares you and your wife have been going through. Believe me my heart goes out to you. My mother and I are also building a home in Boquete, the house is located next to the Wilson bridge on one of the river lots. We are the 1st new house. I have to say we havehad no problems with our builder what so ever. We haveonly met with him twice. Once when we put the deal together and then when we came down six weeks ago. He sends us pictures every week or so and also have friends drop by. He speaks no English and we speak no Spanish (yet). We are set to close on December 9th and are keeping our fingers crossed that we have no surprises when we get down there.

I was reading somewhere in your blog about an appliance store that you had raved about, if you don’t mind could you send me the name of that store? We are also looking for a furniture store that sells rattan chesterfields as well, if you know of any. I’m sure you are inundated withcrazy emails and requests from all sorts of folks and I’m sure you are busy with the house and preparations before your cruise. I hope you found your tuxedo! Many thanks in advance and I hope to meet you some day. Regards, Joanne Hatch, AKA: Betty from Boquete!

Hello Betty from Boquete! First, my tux is in Jacksonville, FL UPS on the way to Ft Lauderdale, where hopefully the ship’s agent will hang onto it . . . and not wear it . . . until the ship comes in and I come in November 9th. I’ll post a picture . . . probably with coat, tie, shirt . . . and no pants, the pants probably sent by mistake to Houston.

I like getting the emails: the “crazy” ones are all from folks in Africa who have millions of dollars they want to put in my bank account.

You are very gutsy to build long distance! While I don’t recommend it, I do know some folks who’ve done it successfully. Of course I know others whose builders were sending them pictures of other folks houses . . . but if you have your friends in Boquete checking that it really is your house, you should be fine. If it works out and you’ve found a good builder . . . let us all know! Sorry I will miss you in December.

The appliance store is InFox in David, ask for Alex. It’s just beyond Romero’s on the left hand side as you’re going into town. They were great for me, but another friend, Renae, was disappointed, but she was looking for Viking and GE Monogram stuff.

Church shopping . . .

If you think shopping for appliances in a new country is difficult . . .

Hey Richard, It’s Rachel . . . My husband and I have been looking at your site for hours! It’s so great to have this resource. Thank you again!

My husband and I are Christians as well. Just noticed, today, that you were in the ministry. One of our biggest questions about moving to Panama has been “Will we find a Christian church?” We are non-denominational. We’re not into man-made “religious” doctrine, just into the good-old truth from the Bible, taught in a relaxed atmosphere. I’m sure that we have had similar revelations and seek the same escape to paradise that you desired. Well, we are planning a trip very soon, probably within a month. It would be so nice to possibly meet up at some point during the trip. You are just the person we had hoped to find for guidance and friendship.

However, I’m sure that If you get some 50,000 visitors to your site you may get a lot of these sort of e-mails and may not have the time. We would understand. But, if you did have time it would be great to meet you and your wife. Best Regards, Rachel Morrison

Shopping for a church that meets your needs is tough in the US where you’ve got dozens of your particular theological stripe to choose from . . . and they have services in English. We haven’t found one. But that’s OK. You don’t have to be a member of a particular local church to be a Christian. That’s not always what I said when I was busy building churches, but it’s true. “The church” is that great body of Christian believers around the world of all colors, orientations, politics and a whole lot of different “brand” names. It’s nice if you can find a Christian community/fellowship, but if you can’t . . . really doesn’t hurt your faith any. I’ve been in churches . . . the good, the bad, and the ugly . . . for 30-some years. I used to get frustrated withthe way people behaved in churches until I took a good look at the Bible and the history of the people of God and their dealings with each other and with God. Often they were a pain in the ass to God. When I realized that I thought to myself, “Well, who am I?” There are things that I miss, especially at Christmas and Easter. I miss most of the fellowship. I definitely miss pot lucks! I miss the style of worship to which I am accustomed. I miss good church music. But there are also things I don’t miss, like all the politics and the BS and people playing their own stupid games in the name of Christ. I often thing that Psalm 2:4 – “He who sits in the heavens laughs, The Lord scoffs at them.” – may apply not only to “Why are the nations in an uproar And the peoples devising a vain thing? The kings of the earth take their stand And the rulers take counsel together Against the LORD and against His Anointed, saying, ‘Let us tear their fetters apart And cast away their cords from us!’” I think it might also apply to the People of God who are always in an “uproar and . . . devising a vain thing.”

Imprecatory Psalms

I have been thinking lately about the “Imprecatory Psalms”. The Imprecatory Psalms are in the Old Testament book of Psalms and are Psalms which call down God’s judgement on one’s enemies, not so much in terms of just personal revenge, but in terms of justice and fairness in the world. Psalms with phrases like:

Psalm 35:5 – May they be like chaff before the wind.

Psalm 55:15 – Let death take my enemies by surprise; let them go down alive to the grave.

Psalm 58:6 – O God, break the teeth in their mouths.

Psalm 69:28 – May they be blotted out of the book of life and not be listed with the righteous.

Psalm 109:9 – May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow.

Psalm 137:9 – How blessed will be the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.

These have always created a kind of dissonance within a faith that focuses on love and forgiveness. After all Jesus said that we should “turn the other cheek” didn’t he? The kids on the street in the South Bronx  used to wrestle with this, and their interpretation, theologically correct I believe, was, “Yeah, turn the other cheek, but if they do it again, beat the crap out of them.” And then they quoted Ecclesiastes 9:10, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might” as theological justification for the beating the crap out of them part.

I found an interesting piece on the Imprecatory Psalms by an ex Young Life staffer named David R Rid entitled, “Please Zap Them Lord!”

I’ve usually thought of the Imprecatory Psalms in the context of the gross injustice done to my friend Brandon Hein, but lately I find myself thinking of them in terms of my builder who has screwed me out of my money and provided a half finished and half ass job.  I now understand the Panamanian modus operandi which figures “I’ve structured X% profit into the job, so I can take it out at the beginning and if I run out of money and can’t finish, tough shit, since I’ve already got mine.”  So my imprecatory thinking isn’t just personal revenge, but does have a ring of a cry for justice and fairness.  So when I think about the new truck, Toyota truck no less, that my builder came up with early in my job, or our friends house that miraculously got finished about the time I made my first payment for the construction of my house (which certainly our friends had nothing to do with and didn’t understand) . . . and I have visions of my contractor and his new truck missing a curve and sailing through the air . . . well I can make a certain justification of my imprecatory thinking.

We are now 9 days away from our moving date . . . and starting to take some bigger items up to the house.  Most, although not all, of my windows and doors are in and functioning.  A lot of stuff is ordered.  But “TIP” . . . “This is Panama!” and I have the major trades, electrical and plumbing, working.  It will be tight, and I’ve accepted that a lot of things will not be finished, like the second coat of paint.  But it WILL HAPPEN and it WILL HAPPEN as scheduled, which is how I do business.  So you can see that I am a “fish out of water” in Panama (which originally means something like “land of many fishes.”

But, what goes around comes around . . . so in the long run . . .

Sorry, cannot provide photos . . . not only do I not have time, but all you’d see is a complete disaster area.

It is unbelievable to me how someone who claims to be a professional contractor could make so many stupid mistakes.  Yesterday I discovered that the only brass floor outlets here are round, and of course he has six square holes in the tile and slate, so that means six pieces of tile and slate have to be pulled up and recut and reinstalled.  In the grand scale it’s only a days extra work for my tile guy and $80 of materials, but it’s the stupidity and unprofessionalism that gets me.

We had some friends over, our first “entertaining”, for wine and cheese on our new terrace the other day.  They, too, were screwed by the same builder, only on their house he had promised 12 months and took 36 months.  We had a lot in common!  Anyway, they assured us that we had a beautiful house, and would love it and eventually forget the pain.  Another friend, who went through an equally painful building process with a big “name” Boquete contractor, said, “If when you are all finished, you find a single craftsman who does really good work, you will be far ahead of everyone else.”

Still Through The Fog

I was four years old when my dad was a blacksmith for the Pennsylvania Rail Road in Altoona, Pennsylvania.  We lived in a gray clapboard house high on a hill overlooking the Juniata yards of the “PRR.”  From our porch I could see trains being made up and steam locomotives belching black smoke, firing up for the long haul up the mountains around the Horseshoe Curve.  Juniata was dark and dirty then, with soot from the engine smoke in the air and everywhere.  In the evening, fog laced with soot would settle down in the Juniata Valley.

My dad worked at night on the third shift.  I would get up in the morning and sit on the front porch, waiting for him to come home.  Many mornings the fog was so thick and heavy that I couldn’t see more than six feet.  On those days I would sit with my mother, waiting until I heard my dad whistling.  Then she would let me step out into the fog to meet my dad.

I was enveloped by the fog.  I couldn’t have found my way the few hundred feet home if I’d wanted to.  But I didn’t want to; I wanted my dad.  And so, unable to see more than a few steps in front of me, I followed the sound of my dad’s whistling, until I was in his arms.  He would hand me his black lunch bucket and with grimy hands pick me up and plop me on his shoulders and carry me home.

When I haven’t always understood God’s will, or clearly perceived His path for my life, or felt enveloped by a fog I did not understand, I’ve remembered that childhood experience.  I’ve followed the sound of my Father’s voice.  He’s always been there, and I’ve never gotten lost.

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This piece appeared originally back in the early 80’s when I was writing a weekly column called “Ideas For Positive Living” that appeared in about 35 weekly newspapers.  Later many of these columns were published in a little book called POSITIVE LIVING IN TOUGH TIMES. 

A postscript to this story.  My father died at 87 a few years ago as a result of his having worked in the Pennsylvania Railroad shops.  In those days asbestos was used as an insulation material for steam engine boilers.  My dad would walk from the blacksmith shop through the area where they were repairing boilers where often it looked like it had snowed, but in fact the “snow” was white asbestos fiber.  There is an interesting picture in the Railroader’s Museum in Altoona that shows railroad workers covered with white asbestos dust.  Many of these workers, like my dad, ended up dying of mesotheleoma as a result.   Apparently asbestos fibers can lurk in your lungs for years . . . I hope and pray that when I jumped into his arms as a kid, that none of the asbestos on his clothing lodged in my lungs.

10 days and furiously working . . . spent the day in David buying out the place . . . all the stuff my late contractor just figured would “happen” . . . I can’t tell you all the stupid mistakes we are uncovering!  All are costing me more money and delay.  More when I have time . . . ha!

And life took another turn today, which I’ll tell you about later.

Physician, Heal Thyself!

We’re packing . . . not that we have anyplace to go . . . yet.  It’s day 19 until we need to move in . . . and counting.  Of course the house isn’t anywhere near done yet!  And it’s 70 days until I step on the ZUIDERDAM.  Did we plan it this way?  Hell no!  According to the contract the house was to be finished in October of last year!  But you soon find out contracts don’t mean squat in Panama.

We have iron chandeliers in our present house that we really like so we found the guy who made them and got him to make chandeliers and fixtures for our new house.  So after numerous promises, William, finally delivered a partially completed job promising to install them and put the finishing touches on at that time.  Many calls, and many promises later, he finally shows up to install, complaining he doesn’t have money to buy the wire.  So, hey, I buy the wire.  He does most, but not all of the work,  Then he demands $20 per lamp for “installation” which he had promised to do in the first place and which I could have had my electrician do for “free” (since it’s included in the contract) had William finished the job in the first place.  [Reasoning: "I need money.  Look at this house: like all gringos he's got loads of money, so why not get some more.']  Actually the guy does nice work, even if he is way overpriced. 

When we were browsing around a flea market in Santiago, Chile, we found some outdoor lamps that we really liked, so we lugged them home, and William is also supposed to be recreating those for me.  He has the sample lamps and half of the money.  Now, because he’s pissed that he couldn’t extort an additional $20 per light installation charge, he’s not returning my calls and not delivering the exterior lamps. 

Not that this is anything unusual . . .  just more of the same frustration of buiding in Panama and attempting to do business in a culture where promises mean something different than they do in most North American cultures.

Anyhow . . . I said we were packing, and I came across a box of my POSITIVE LIVING IN TOUGH TIMES books.  Back in the 80’s I wrote a newspaper column that was in about 35 weekly papers scattered around the US.  A lot of these columns ended up in this little “bathroom book” . . .  meaning nice, short pieces, which don’t take long to read . . .

Anyhow I was reading a few . . . and thought maybe I should pay attention to my own advice!  Like this . . .

Victory Over Worry

One of the greatest enemies of positive, creative living and achievement is worry!  Worry saps creative energy.  If you are worrying you can’t be alert, devoted to the task of thinking and creating.  Worry blocks the creative process. It limits achievement.  It limits your success and happiness in life.  And it will make you sick.

Someone has said, “The greatest cause of ulcers is mountain-climbing over molehills!”  I know!  I’ve gotten myself so worked up over things that I’ve gotten physically ill.  I look back and I can remember the pain and the illness, but for the life of me I can’t remember what seemed to be so important at the time!

A group of physicians pooled their case histories from years of medical practice and concluded that 40 percent of their cases were complicated by strong indications of worry.  John A Schindler says, “Bad emotions can make you sick and good emotions can make you well.”  Worry is a bad emotion.

Now we all know we shouldn’t worry.  We know it and we still worry.  Then we feel guilty about worrying, and we begin to worry about feeling guilty.  On and on it goes: a vicious circle!  In order to break that cycle we need to understand what worry is and how it comes about.

Worry is fear.  Arthur Somers Roche said, “Worry is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind.  If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained.”

You’ve seen erosion at work, how a thin stream of water plunging unchecked down an embankment beside a freeway cuts a channel into the embankment.  If left unchecked, the running water can erode the entire embankment and cause a mult-million dollar road project to collapse.  That’s what worry is like!  It is a thin stream of fear which, if it isn’t dealt with, will erode and destroy you.  If left unchecked it will erode and destroy your mind and your life.

It’s hard not to worry when we face tough times.  A thousand questions and fears come to mind.  But its during tough times that we most need to be able to think out creative solutions to our problems.  If you believe that the God who made you loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life, then what do you have to be afraid of?  God loves you!  He is watching over you personally!

Jesus said, “Do not be anxious abut your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, or about your body, or what you will put on . . . Which of you by being anxious can add to the span of his life? . . . Seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be taken care of.  Don’t be anxious about tomorrow, tomorrow will be anxious for itself!  Live each day responsibly and joyfully, one day at a time.”  (Paraphrase of Jesus’ words in Matthew 6)

Disraeli said, “Care is a god, invisible but omnipotent.  It steals the bloom from the cheek and lightness from the pulse; it takes away the appetite, and turns the hair grey.”

Either you believe that God is in control and He is watching over you – in which case you’ve really got nothing to worry about – or your god is care, invisible but omnipotent, and you’ve got lots to worry about.  If you insist on worrying about things which should rightfully be committed to God and left there, then you are putting your worry ahead of God and making worry your graven image.

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Not bad advice, huh?