May you learn to bend in the wind rather than break. When adversity rises, may you remember where your roots are and may you gain strength from the soil of God’s grace and promises. May you stand in the storm, not fall, and may you flourish where you are planted.

DON'T STRESS THE UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE

Our present age lacks a proper sense of reverence for the awesome mystery of life. Humankind, it is said, has lost the capacity to dwell on the wondrous mystery of a creative order moving its way to fulfillment -- a fulfillment that transcends all human understanding.

Today, we look ahead in terms of economic and financial security, but little else.

Consider the mystery of life as it unfolds in a marriage relationship. A good marriage that matures with time is based on the growing realization by both parties that complete knowledge of another human being is never attained. 

Married love is an uneasy balance. Meaning, there is always some discovery to be made, always some uncertainty to deal with, always unforeseen events to overcome. The complete mystery of the other is never solved.

Two longtime friends met at a bar to watch the Sunday football game. When it was over, they became so engrossed in talking about old times that, before they realized it, it was hours past when they told their wives they'd be home. Several days later, they met again.

"What happened when you got home so late the other night?" the first man asked, "Everything was O.K.," his friend replied. "I told my wife about how we had talked about old times, and she understood perfectly. By the way, what happened when you arrived home?"

The second man replied, "When I walked in, my wife became historical. She spent the next 15 minutes bringing up every time I've been home late in the entire history of our marriage."

If we were to spend the next hour reviewing our personal histories of the past 25 years, or 10 years, perhaps even one year, one undeniable fact would emerge; namely, that life is uncertain. It has been said that "The only things we can be certain about in life (apart from death and taxes) are the uncertainties."

Life itself is fragile...here today and gone tomorrow. The state of our health is subject to radical change, often without notice. The very existence of humankind is threatened. Even the weather seems more complicated to predict these days. The social climate across the globe changes almost daily and rarely for the better.

Yet, during the worst of times we struggle to hold out hope for better days to come, often giving too much credence to what got us to this point in the first place.

It can be rather fascinating to look at things like uncertainties, and realize that we put our most powerful stresses, fears, and worries over the things in which we carry the least bit of control. We put a lifetime of pain into the type of things that we just cannot do anything about. We fester, and we lose sleep, risk health, and live in anxiety.

So are these things just painful vices that we all carry with us for our whole lives? At first, the answer is yes. Because none of us are immune to the stress, and uncertainty of what is going on in this world.

In reality, these things really are just a part of life. Without necessarily any kind of pill that can simply cure it away. One of the greatest flaws in the science of the brain, is its natural desire to predict and determine the future. It’s something that is easy to see, considering how much we stress out about things that either a. have not yet happened, and or b. may never come to pass anyway.

When I was reading up on this subject, the quote I found that stuck out most was the following: “Normally, our brains make decisions for the future based on our past experiences. When the future is uncertain or we’re experiencing something new, we can’t rely on past experiences to inform our decision-making.”

As with so many things in life, we have to learn to "let go" and to accept the fact that we can’t control the world...and we have to take care of things as they happen. Not project the future, and strain our souls over what is not certain. Just like we practice acceptance in other parts of our lives, we have to accept what life gives us, and deal with it as it comes.

Prepare for what we can prepare for and do not lose ourselves in the futility of fears and worries.

We can live in a new quality of life. One that doesn’t feel like an impending doom of what “terrible” things may happen tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As much as I have tried ever so naively to be all things to all people, I have concluded the hard way that the only thing in life that I can change or influence is myself but if taken to extremes would mean masking or altering my God-given individuality; that of an activist militant with a INFJ personality type. 

With tweaks along the way, I have become unchangeably comfortable in my own skin. The world like it or lump it!

Think what you want but in expressing yourself publicly refrain from being too political, too religious, too provocative, less you offend someone in the process. Preach only to a select, fragile and delicate people-starved choir?

Tell people only what they want to hear? Give me a break, for Heaven sake!

The older I get, the more I am inclined to withdraw into that skin of mine that is not as thick as it used to be. For an old-timer like me, it's safer that way!

When sufficient spirit dictates I emerge ever so cautiously from time to time at the risk of offending someone. That much is inevitable. And I'm still working on "letting that go" too.

PICKED UP IN PASSING: ABOUT GIVING IN TO "HUBRIS"

A geologist at Harvard once was giving a lecture entitled "The Expanding Universe." In it, he pointed out that there are galaxies greater than our "Milky Way" speeding outward -- moving away from us faster than the speed of light. This means that we're losing them. It’s like they're falling off the edge of the Universe. 

It is a mind-boggling thing to think about. In the question-and-answer period that followed the lecture, a woman who appeared to be upset by this revelation asked anxiously, "Professor, what are we going to do about all of those galaxies we're losing?" To which the learned professor quietly replied, "Let them go, ma’am, let them go!"

Some of us find it difficult to let anything go. We want control. We find it challenging to use our gifts responsibly and, at the same time, to let go and allow ourselves to be carried through life by God. It is an inward problem. It is a problem of "hubris."

Hubris is a Biblical word not easily translated. It appears in the earlier chapters of the Bible and turns up again and again. Often it is translated as "pride" and, because pride has many meanings in our language, we may misunderstand what the Bible is telling us if we're not careful. We are not talking about ordinary conceit. Hubris, in the Biblical sense, means refusing to let God be God. It means trying to be God ourselves: self-sufficiency -- the opposite of the "Faith" Jesus talks about.

"Hubris" is the original sin in the story of Adam and Eve. It is the original sin out of which every other sin grows: the unwillingness to let God be God; the willingness to put our own will above God's will. That is the whole point of the Garden of Eden story. All Adam and Eve had to do to stay in Paradise was to let God be God. They refused to be subordinate to God's Will. And so, the "Fall" from Paradise!

The biggest human error of all time?

You've got to believe it!

A GUEST POST:

We will not let hate win = love for all

My name is Farah Ahmad and I belong to the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community whose slogan is “Love for All, Hatred for None”. The community was founded in 1889, extends over 200 countries with millions of followers known as “Ahmadis” which believes in the Promised Messiah, the second coming of Jesus (May God be pleased with him). I have been active with inter-religious dialogues with churches and institutions in the Kincardine area for several years.

—————————————————–

June 6th, 2021 marked the day where Canada and the rest of the world was shaken by the barbaric and cruel terrorist attack on the four innocent lives of a Muslim family in London, Ontario, leaving only a 9-year old sole survivor.

A whole family has been torn apart by a hate-filled, 20-year old male who struck them with his pickup truck as the family waited to cross the intersection. They were taking their usual evening walk. The family was known for their exemplary kindness and loving character and contributions in their community and work fields. Our heartfelt prayers and thoughts are with the affected family members.

Thousands of people, including dignitaries gathered in London to express their grief and pay their respects and a multi-faith march was held in order to stand up against this horrific act.

The Holy Quran of Islam mentions eloquently “Whosoever killed a person … it shall be as if he had killed all mankind” (5:32).

This shows us that, in times of crisis, mankind wants to hold on to the rope of unity, love and compassion. In order keep this spirit alive and to bring change in society, we have to make this type of compassion our norm. We need to build bridges of love that unite all mankind regardless of religious or ethnic background. Continuous dialogue is important for the advancement of humanity.

“and We have made you into tribes and sub tribes that you may know one another.”(49:14).

Knowing one another has become more important than ever, especially in these times where hate creates division. If we include respect, empathy and love in our daily lives, then we will take an important step towards ending extremism and liberate ourselves from fear of one another.

WHEN WE ARE NO LONGER MEETING NEEDS: IS THAT ALL THERE IS?

More than 16 centuries ago, St. Augustine wrote: "You are what you eat." And you don't need me to tell you that today, that ancient maxim is taken more seriously, perhaps, than at any other time in human history.

People are paying attention to the medical community's consensus that the way to better health is through diet and exercise. Many people are shaping up. Many people are improving their physical condition, which is not to say, necessarily, that people are improving their overall condition -- their quality of life.

We may be enhancing our physical life, but are we improving our spiritual life? We may be living longer, but are we living better? Physically, we may be "enhancing our body image," but are we enhancing our spiritual image?

The great medical missionary, Albert Schweitzer, once said, "The interior joy we feel when we have done a good deed and feel we have been needed somewhere, is the nourishment the soul requires. Without those times when one feels part of the spiritual world by her or his actions, the soul decays."

I haven't been feeling much of a kinship with the spiritual world recently. Have you?

Could it be that is what accounts for a uselessness I have been feeling the more I assuredly fade into the twilight?

PICKED UP IN PASSING...WHAT'S IN YOUR SANDWICH?

Thanks to medical science, technology, and other factors, people are living longer and longer. 

Regrettably, however, it is not always the case that extending the number of years results in enhancing the quality of life. The famous author, "Anonymous," has been quoted as saying, "The problem with what we call "life" is that it is daily." And I am here to say that the responsibility we call "life" beckons us to rise above the level of mere daily existence -- at any age.

A high school senior and his buddy sat down at their usual seats and opened their lunch boxes. "I can't believe it," the boy complained, "peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again." On the second day, he complained, "I hate these peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

On the third day, he did it again! "I'm so sick of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches," he whined. His buddy had a suggestion. "Look, if you hate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that much, why don't you tell your mother?" To which he replied, "Don't bring my mother into this. I make my own lunch."

Absurd as this may sound, it has a definite relevance to our lives. Metaphorically speaking, we all make our own sandwiches. And the ingredients we choose to put between the two slices of bread can make all the difference. 

No matter how you slice it, obedience to our faith is what determines not the number, but the quality of our years spent on God's good earth.

CLOSE SHAVE: MY POPPIES COULD HAVE GONE BYE BYE

The alleged thistle patch, a case of mistaken identity.

What Poppies will look like in two or three weeks time.

I simply cannot resist telling a little story at the expense of my daughter Debbie. She's a good sport and I'm sure she will not mind.

At the outset, I have to preface my remarks by saying that Deb is a wonderful help around the house, frequently taking it upon herself to do chores that I do not expect her to do and for which I am extremely grateful. That said, I have to convey up front that unlike one of her daughters (Becky) who works at the prestigious Royal Botanical Gardens in Burlington, she is by no stretch of the imagination a horticulturalist.

The other day Deb asked me: "Dad, do you have a small shovel  or spade?"

"Yes I do," I replied, "but what do you want it for?"

"There are some thistles growing out front and I thought I would dig them out," she answered.

"Strange," I thought, "but I don't remember seeing any thistles!"

Fortunately, as it turned out, the matter dropped at that point but it did not completely leave my mind.

The next day I remembered our conversation about thistles and thought that I would take a minute to explore the possibility of prickly weeds that some people consider to be a flower and the national symbol of Scotland, growing at the front of our house.

As soon as I got to the foot of the driveway and seeing no thistles, it dawned on me...Surely Deb was not talking about the small patch of Poppies that I have been nurturing for the better part of 20 years.

I rushed back into the house and without even seeing her blurted out: "Deb, those thistles you were talking about are really Poppies that in the next two or three weeks will be the most beautiful flowers you have ever seen....Thank goodness I didn't get you that shovel when you asked for it."

"Oh no! Deb responded while breaking out in laughter as she emerged from her bedroom..."I thought they looked like thistles. I didn't see any buds."

I managed a cursory chuckle in response and added: "The plants are not fully grown yet and will almost double in size before buds are formed. If you dug them out you would have not only broken my heart, but you would have had to find a new place to live!"

I still can't believe how close I came to losing those precious Poppies -- and Deb, somewhat embarrassed after the fact, can't either.

All I can say is...phew!

UPDATE:

Debbie was hard at it this afternoon, but she steered
clear of the Poppies, thank God!

A MEMORY ABOUT STRENGTH IN NUMBERS AND 'LITTLE GUYS' JOINING FORCES TO RISE TO THE OCCASION

Dresden Public School circa 1945. Note basement windows, lower level.

I don't know about kids today. Of course I do not know much about anything these days, but I digress even before beginning this post. Let me start again!

I do not know about kids today but very early in my life I learned about big guys and little guys...and strength in numbers. The lesson came in the form of what is today a vivid memory and it goes something like this...

Unlike schools today, the Dresden Public School that both my parents also grew up in, had a full basemen, divided in the middle to create a girls' side and a boys' side, complete with rest rooms in each. The basement served as a shelter of sorts for kids on rainy and snowy days because we were not allowed in classrooms until the stroke of the intimidating hours of 9:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m,

There was a bullying segment in the boys side of the school, consisting primarily of big, tough guys from Grades 7 and 8 who got their jollies from the imposition of a game called "jail". It was just an accepted fact that sooner or later we little guys would be captured by the big guys somewhere in the school yard (we could run but we couldn't hide) and herded off to jail in a portion of the basement that was closed off with only a small entranceway.

Four or five of the big guys would stand guard at the entranceway and with arms locked block any attempt by their smaller prisoners to escape, holding off victorious until the school bell rang. That is, until a few brave little guys had an idea. Instead of just one or two of us, let's all (often more than two dozen captives) storm the big guy blockade together and force our way out. In other words, gang up on em!

What ensued was an intense struggle of determination vs. brute force, and after a couple of test-run attempts over the course of several days, the little guys broke through for the first time leaving several of the jail-keepers behind to lick their wounds. Freedom at last and it had a sweet taste, kind of like the sticky buns sold at Burn's Bakery across the street from the school.

The game of jail seemed to loose its appeal for the big guys after several more successful, dare I say humiliating, breakouts by the little guys.

It wasn't so bad going to school after that!

Don't ever tell me that there is not strength in numbers. That's one thing I DO KNOW from a lesson I learned along with a bunch of little guys from the Dresden Public School all those years ago.

YOU HAD TO HAVE BEAN THERE TO APPRECIATE THIS ONE

BeanieMe

In the beginning of the 20th century, the word ‘beanie’ was derived from the slang for ‘head’ used then as ‘bean’ i.e. bean head, or what's that on your bean? Blue-collared workers were the first to use brimless skullcaps to keep their hair from falling over their eyes and sweat from dripping down their foreheads. This form of working man's headwear therefore allowed for unobstructed vision when laborers were on the job.

When the 1920s rolled around, boys began to be dressed in beanies of different descriptions, perhaps influenced by the Our Gang/Little Rascals movies that were so popular by that time. Beanies, in fact, were forerunners to the baseball caps worn by kids (frontwards and backwards) today.

A Little Rascal

It is surprising to me, however, that there is very little on record about the novelty beanie of my youth in the early 1940s.

The "beanie" for me represents the equivalent of a skull cap, but made out of a second-hand felt hat or fedora previously worn by an adult member of the family, in my case grandfather Nelson Perry who generously donated his to the cause after buying a new one.

Typical of others in my hometown of Dresden, my mother craftily cut the brim off gramps' well-worn gray-colored chapeau and created V-shaped cutouts along the bottom which she in turn folded up to create a rim of sorts. The rim was stitched front and back in order to hold it in place.

My beanie today, minus a few
collector's item comic pins.

And, just like that, you had your own homemade beenie ready to be covered with pins and buttons of all sorts. I leaned toward Red Cross and V-Day buttons spaced between comic character pins collected from Kelloggs cereal boxes -- Dick Tracy, Freckles, Dagwood & Blonde, Major Hoople, Tress Trueheart, Joe Palooka, Lil Abner, Popeye, Harold Teen, et al. When we came up with duplicates they were traded with other kids for pins we did not yet have.

I wore my beanie with pride, even to church, as evidence the above photo of me dressed in my Sunday-go-to-meetin' best at about eight or nine years of age.

I still have that old beanie. I tried it on after about 75 years or so as I put together this piece. My intention was to run a photo of me wearing it, but I reconsidered because it looked silly.

Far be it from me...!

Friend Danny Burns and I wearing
 our beanies. Photo taken from cover
of my book Dresden Life Remembered.

UPDATE: Subsequent to the posting of the above story, my very curious daughter Debbie took it upon herself to do some further research on my behalf and was able to determine that in fact my type of "beanie" originated with the comics strip Archie and a lead character "Jughead". I completely forgot all about that possibility! 

Jughead

The initial Archie characters were created in 1941 by publisher John L. Goldwater and artist Bob Montana, in collaboration with writer Vic Bloom. They first appeared in Pep Comics #22 (cover-dated Dec. 1941).

Here is the original comic strip that introduced Jughead's beanie. It is classic and an excellent gun safety tip to boot. A perfect explanation too as to where my mother got her directions for making my beanie. It all comes together now, thanks to Deb's spadework!

I DON'T LIKE WHAT I SEE, BUT I HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT

"O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us

To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us
An’ foolish notion”

Translation:

Oh, would some Power give us the gift
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notion

~ Robert Burns,

I have always been conscious of the saying "see yourself as others see you" and appreciated the wisdom contained therein as positive in nature.

...That is until yesterday as I was walking away from our local hospital after a blood test requisitioned by my oncologist. By happenstance, I glanced at my reflection in the large glass doors and deep side windows.

"Oh my Lord, I'm walking like I was 100 years old," I shockingly said to myself and promptly put forth an effort to speed up my pace with an added spring in my step.

Guess what? No difference. I was still shuffling along like I was 100 years old -- and everything in my body was hurting just a little more too.

I live only five doors from the hospital yet the walk home seemed like five miles, giving me sufficient time to rationalize and reluctantly accept what I had just experienced. 1) It ain't going to get any better, it is what it is, 2) Heaven help me if I let my mind catch up to my weakening limbs, and 3) stop looking at my reflection in doors and windows.

In all seriousness, the thought crossed my mind that I am 16 years away from my 100th birthday and what kind of shape will I be in by that time?

Oh well, I'll just have to wait and see. Meantime, I've got too much to do and can't waste valuable time worrying about it.

Besides, when I'm sitting down I still feel like I was 21 years old and fully capable of going nine innings, or running a 100-yard dash. All of which explains my motivation to sit down a lot these days.

Anyway, from here on out, I'm going to make it a point to do a little more walking every day in the hope that I can liven up my step just a bit...I'm kind of masochistic that way!

ON PAINTING A PICTURE OF LOVE FOR OTHERS TO SEE

“Two Sisters” by Pierre-Auguste Renoir depicts the upper terrace of the Maison Fournaise, a family restaurant located on an island in the Seine in Chatou, the western suburb of Paris. Considered one of his most famous, the painting shows a young woman and her younger sister seated outdoors with a small basket containing balls of wool. In the background over the railings of the terrace, are flowering plants and vines. Beyond is the River Seine with its boats and also some buildings in the top left. Renoir painted this delightful scene as a homage to springtime in 1881. Before creating Two Sisters, Renoir worked in this particular location on another well-known painting, Luncheon of the Boating Party, seen at the conclusion of this post.

As a community of faith, one of the most serious charges that can be leveled is the claim that "Church People" are turned in on themselves. Christians are vulnerable in the extreme to such a charge because the Gospel preached is the Good News that God is a loving God who cares about all His human creatures. 

Ideally Christians are a People of God dedicated to a ministry of loving service to others. To whatever extent the charge is valid, it must be faced honestly and openly because any aspect of self-centeredness in the life of the Church is a flagrant denial of God's intention in founding it. Nothing could be more obvious.

Remember, the Lord Himself came as a man for others. The one thing about Jesus the early disciples found most difficult to accept was that He came not to be ministered unto but to minister to. (They didn't accept it, really, until after the Resurrection.) When Jesus began to tell them that as the Messiah, He was to be a servant -- a Suffering Servant -- that He was to suffer and die on behalf of others, the disciples were incredulous. 

Simon Peter, the Rock, the first to acknowledge Jesus as Messiah, said: "God forbid it; this is never going to happen to you! I mean, you're the Lord, you're the Messiah, you're not a servant!" And the one thing that we now find most challenging to accept is that, from the beginning, Christ intended for His followers to be a Servant People; that Christ intended for the Church to follow the course of His ministry of loving service.

As an illutration, the timeless paintings of the great French Impressionist, Auguste Renoir literally glow with life and light and color. Renoir seemed to put light inside the people he so beautifully portrayed on canvas. For the last 20 years or so of his life, Renoir was disabled with arthritis. His hands were twisted and gnarled; even his spine was affected to such an extent that he could not stand when he worked and needed assistance but still he produced amazing work that showed the light (beauty) in his subjects.

One day as a young art associate watched the elder painter work in his studio, fighting torturous pain with each brush stroke, he blurted out, “Auguste, why do you continue to paint when you are in such agony?” Renoir said, “The pain passes but the beauty remains.”

Just think, if we were to speak to Jesus on resurrection morning, He might have said the same thing. The pain of the Cross has passed, but the beauty remains: The beauty of new creation, the beauty of an army of disciples that spans the millennia, the beauty of a kingdom established in the hearts of his people, all this remains. 

But it may be that you are going through pain just now and you can’t see an end to that pain. Can you trust that out of the pain will come a beauty that will last forever? 

Why not give that pain over to your Heavenly maker and ask Him show you its beauty. You just might be surprised at the picture you have been failing to see.

In the end, to complete the circle, you can share that love(ly) beauty with others, just as God would have you do.

Get the picture, fellow Christians?

WHEN REGRET FOR NOT LOVING ENOUGH IS NOT ENOUGH

The purpose of this post is two-fold:

1) To hopefully rid myself of a nagging, heart-wrenching regret and

2) To share my emotions in the hope others can learn from my experience.

In the process I have to admit to a seeing problem due to the fact that my eyes keep welling up and the words on my computer monitor are annoyingly blurred. I also struggle to avoid succumbing to an ache in my chest that comes and goes in intensity, as if timed to the surging beats of my heart. 

It all has to do with sadness and regret that, try as I may otherwise, refuses to completely go away and tends to overwhelm me when I am most vulnerable.

You see, in spite of an enduring craving to love and to be loved, I have major reservations over not having loved enough in my life. Being twice widowed, I find myself enduring a double-whammy dose of guilt and regret in this regard. 

I think about the times that I failed to spontaneously demonstrate my love due to circumstances, or just because...

I think of all the times I could have expressed love, instead of taking it for granted....Occasions when even a simple hug or embrace would have been sufficient.

I think of all the times when I could have been more sensitive, sympathetic and understanding.

I think of all the times I lashed out and said hurtful things I really did not mean.

I think about all the things that I cannot change nor take back.

Did my loved ones leave this world not knowing how much I really loved them? Death has a way of coming unexpectedly and cheating you out of an opportunity to say goodbye.

Worst of all, I think about lost love and the fact that at my advanced age I will never have it again. Certainly, in my experience, an empty and hopeless feeling that I try very hard to suppress.

They tell me that regretting things you said and did while your loved one was alive is normal. You are not alone, you are not a bad person, and you don’t need to hate yourself. No matter what you did or said, you CAN find forgiveness, healing, and peace. But — and this isn’t the fun part — you have to go through the painful grieving process. There is no escaping it! And you may never completely overcome being haunted by it.

“To go through grief requires incredible reserves of patience,” writes Bob Deits in Life after Loss: A Practical Guide to Renewing Your Life after Experiencing Major Loss. “At some point along the way, you will feel terribly sad, lonely, lost, angry — or all of these. To get in touch with such unpleasant feelings, you have to be convinced there is absolutely no other way out of your grief than straight through the middle of it. You must have a strong sense of purpose and direction.”

So what I am urging friends who are fortunate enough to still have significant others in their lives, is to learn from my experience. Love unconditionally, frequently and for all you're worth. Make the best of your time together because it can be over in a flash.

It can only take a minute, if you know what I mean. But love while you still can and in the manner that feels best for you. Leave nothing undone or unsaid, In the end, you'll be glad that you did!

Trust me! 

There's a 50 percent chance that you will end up like me -- feeling that I could have done better and not being able to do anything about it now. 

I always felt that I was giving life my all, but in retrospect I did not. And that's a sad admission.

PART OF MY PAST: THE STORY OF A 90-YEAR-OLD RADIO

Earlier this week I posted a reflective piece on Wrights Lane where I talked about Sundays in the 1940s and, in passing, mentioned huddling around the radio in evenings with family members. It subsequently dawned on me that it would be fun to do a follow up item on the actual radio that we listened to all those 80 years ago.

Believe it or not, I still have that old floor model console radio (above photo) purchased originally by my parents some time in the early 1930s. It is known only by the name "Radiotrope" and it is a fixture in my study, often visible in the background of some of the videos I produce. You couldn't offer me enough money for it.

As best as I can determine, the Radiotrope dates back to 1928 or '29 and it was manufactured for General Electric by the RCA Victor Company. Of all the new products put on the market during the 1920’s, very few had the impact on society than the radio-a symbol of the radical advances in technology which created fundamental changes in everyday life. A fine example of this “technology” is seen in my prized antique heirloom with its four legs of walnut and cabinet of walnut veneer.

View of cabinet back showing 110-volt
inner workings and GE vacuum tubes 
with single speaker mounted below.

This particular model was considered middle-of-the-road and affordable in post Depression times. The on/off switch is located just below the central station control dial and on the right side. The volume knob is located on the left. The fabric-covered speaker is prominent at the bottom of the arched front panel. It brought in stations best (about six in all) when grounded by a wire attached to the receiver assembly.

Just for history purposes, over several years, starting in 1894, the Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi built the first complete commercially successful wireless telegraphy system (radio transmission) based on Heinrich Hertz’s 1888 proof of the existence of transmitted airborne electromagnetic waves (electromagnetism). Marconi then demonstrated the application of radio in military communications. In 1901, he conducted the first successful transatlantic experimental radio communications. In 1904, the US Patent Office awarded him the patent for the invention of the radio. Marconi started his own company devoted to the development and propagation of radio communications services and equipment.

The most common type of radio reception in the 1920s was called a crystal set. An instructional catalog was all anyone needed to learn how to build a crystal radio receiver of their own. Later, vacuum tubes replaced the old crystal sets. These amplifying vacuum tubes revolutionized radios and receivers. In 1912, General Electric’s improvements to the vacuum tube helped make possible modern electronics and the home radio. 

General Electric began manufacturing radios in 1919 through RCA until late 1930, when they began to use their own trademark. In 1919, the US Navy suggested to General Electric that if they could create an American-owned radio company, then the Navy could secure a commercial monopoly of long distance radio communication. Hence, General Electric bought out a subsidiary of Marconi’s company and organized what we know as RCA.

The invention of radio was a miracle in the field of mass communication. A unique entertainment opportunity was brought to the public, especially those who could not afford the luxury of live entertainment. Radio provided the opportunity for the public to be better informed about local and international issues. 

The experience of listening to the radio often brought families closer together as the young and the old would meet around the radio to listen to their favorite shows together. Radio programming was truly a cultural phenomenon that provided general entertainment, information, education and advertising. 

Edward R. Morrow

It also served as a guide to people during times of war. The effects of radio programming created a huge shift in popular culture and changed people’s lives forever.

My first memories of sound coming from our Radiotrope were the distinct voices of Edward R. Morrow, Howard K. Smith, Paul Harvey and Lowell Thomas broadcasting live from the overseas "war front" during WW2. Professional journalists, they brought the devastation of war on a far away battlefield vividly and directly into our living rooms.

It was during the WW2 period that I was introduced to some singing voices too, i.e. British singer Vera Lynn, whose touching ballads helped sustain the spirits of Britons; crooner Bing Crosby and the spirited Dinah Shore had their own programs. Ed Sullivan's talent show got its start on radio and introduced many up-and-coming stars to the world in the 1930s.

Joe Louis

Another memory that has stayed with me was listening with my dad to the heavy weight world boxing championship match between Joe Louis and Buddy Baer in 1943. As a result a tradition of Friday night boxing broadcasts was launched for us right up to Ken Wright's death in 1952.

In my previously-mentioned post I alluded to listening to our favorite radio programs on Sunday evenings, especially Amos 'n' Andy and the hilarious (to me) Jack Benny.

Amos and Andy

Interestingly, Amos 'n' Andy was an American radio and television sitcom set in Harlem, the historic center of Afro-American culture in New York City. The original radio show ran from 1928 to 1960.

The Jack Benny Program starred Benny with Mary Livingstone, Phil Harris, Rochester, Dennis Day, and Don Wilson. The Jack Benny Show AKA The Jello Program AKA The Lucky Strike Program aired from the 1930’s right through to the 1950’s.

As I recall, the old Radiotrope was only turned on for specific programs and newscasts and never left running virtually all day. Next to newspapers of the period, it was a news source and a cheap form of entertainment for a nation pinching its pennies.

I broke away from the family radio after my dad died and I was gifted with my very own Northern Electric table model, with plastic casing no less. It sat on a desk in my bedroom and very seriously vied for homework time the duration of my school days.

The Radiotrope meantime has remained mostly silent ever since. It deserved to rest in peace, but not out of sight and certainly not out of mind.

BE FREE WITH THE DEVINE PRESENCE WITHIN YOU

 

Theologian Bernard Haring tells the moving story of his visit to a little Church in Bavaria where he had been invited to preach. He says that as he went into the Church for the first time, he felt something. 

That something is what happens in certain Churches; you can feel the Presence, the Grace.

And, as the particular congregation worshipped, this very feeling came over Haring again. Once more, it happened when the people began talking with one another as they left the Church sanctuary following the service, prompting Haring to search for the secret of this wonderful atmosphere. 

Perhaps, he thought, it was the pastor or his assistants? But the pastor said, "No. It isn't us. Come, I'll show you." 

The pastor promptly took Haring to the nearby home of an older woman who had been crippled by arthritis for 25 years. She had become so disabled that she was unable even to feed herself. But, as they walked into her room, Haring said he again felt this deep sense of Divine Presence. 

During their subsequent conversation, the woman said, "Praise God, that I can offer up this small suffering toward the Redemption of the world." As they were leaving the little house, the pastor turned to Haring and said, "That is the secret of the vital life of our parish. That is the secret."

What a beautiful thing it is! It is a practical, down-to-earth secret for a successful life! It opens so many beautiful vistas. It means that today, right now, we can begin a whole new attitude that can and will add richness to our lives and others. We can be alert to situations presented to us that have potential for fulfillment and the realization of purpose for us.

I need not elaborate...You know what I'm getting at. It is implicit. It's just like going to church and picking up on that feeling.

...and allowing the Devine Passion within us to shine through.

"What is success?" asked essayist/philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson. "Success," he said, "was to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived. This is to have succeeded."

 

SUNDAYS THE WAY I WAS RAISED TO OBSERVE THEM

What kid wouldn't be seen dead
dressed like this today?

Me and dad in our Sunday best
 for Mother's Day

 

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written at 11:10 p.m., Sunday,

 April 25, 2021

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a brief history lesson before reading what follows: The Lord's Day Alliance of Canada (renamed People for Sunday Association of Canada in 1982) was a lay organization founded in 1888 under the aegis of the Presbyterian Church and supported by the other Protestant churches to combat increasing Sabbath secularization. The Alliance became one of the most effective lobbies of the early 20th century. It gained the crucial support of the French Canadian Catholic hierarchy and, with its promise of a legislated weekly rest day, of organized labour. It surrendered its charter in 1994.

For the past 10 or 15 minutes this evening I have been thinking about the events of my day which is about to turn into tomorrow:

-- Slept in 'til 10:30 (what else was there to do on this particular Sabbath with all of its COVID restrictions and imposed isolation).

-- Had a leisurely breakfast/lunch.

-- Laboriously practiced a few piano tunes.

-- Fired up my computer, caught up with overnight happenings on my news feed and spent the rest of the afternoon (no kidding) answering emails and surfing Facebook for contributions by my friends and opportunities to wax eloquent on their respective timelines by adding my traditional two cents.

-- Fell asleep still sitting at the computer (I blame it on anti-anxiety medication) and woke up with a stiff neck just in time to get a late supper which was damn good, if I do say so myself.

-- Cleaned up the kitchen and...you guessed it...back to the computer again for a protracted exchange on a historical group site that needed my informed input(?).

-- All of which brings me to the above-stated one hour before the stroke of midnight and mulling over the mundane things I'd done with the past 12 hours. In reality, nothing different from what transpired in my life the other six days of the week.

After all said and done and COVID 19 aside, I found myself contrasting this particular Sunday with one I would have experienced 70 or 75 years ago.

It is quite remarkable how times have changed and, sadly, not much for the better.

There is no similarity between Sunday life in small town Ontario back in my day and in the year 2021 with secular emphasis on entertainment and self-serving activities far removed from "a day of rest and worship."

Sunday today is one of the busiest days at shopping malls. Factories and companies run 24/7, and employees are scheduled accordingly, with very little resistance. Recreational activities galore are unquestionably the order of the day. For busy people, setting aside one day in seven for rest, relationships and worship seems too much of a sacrifice to make. 

When I was a young lad growing up in the Kent County town of Dresden, primarily in the 1940s, the comunnity and its rural surroundings exemplified the traditional day of rest on Sundays.  All stores were closed and a good 60 per cent of the citizenry attended the church of their choice, of which there were eight drawing regularly from a population of 2,200.

For 10 straight years I was required to attend 10 a.m. Sunday School classes and then join my parents for church services an hour later. I carried a Wolf Cub and Boy Scout card for the minister to sign, verifying my attendance as a step closer to religion badges and other Scouting recognition.

It was always straight home after church for a customary pot roast dinner that you could smell still siting in the church pews, but not before a complete change from Sunday-go-to meeting attire, we called it our "good" clothing. Back in our everyday play clothing we didn't play much, instead often taking afternoon car rides with our parents to the country or along the nearby St. Clair River and stopping in to visit relatives along the way. Sunday picnics in summer months were a big deal, as were Sunday evening band concert in the town square.

As a break from readin, rightin and rithmatic, I always looked forward to the Sunday edition of the Detroit News, complete with an eight-page comic section, or Funnies -- and getting to it after polishing off mom's pot roast and ideally before my dad finished his tea.

You have to remember that we are talking about a period before television and computers in every home. I always looked forward to Sunday evening visits with my Aunt Hattie and cousins Jim and Norma and huddling around our old Radiotrope listening to Amos and Andy, Jack Benny and Lux Radio Theatre programs. 

We played a lot of table and board games in our house on Sunday evenings (crokinol, parcheesi, monopoly, checkers, snakes and ladders)  but card games like poker, euchre and bridge were considered sinful and taboo. I never played baseball or hockey on Sundays either until I was about 14 years of age when town council passed a bylaw permitting team sports to be played on the Sabbath. It took a while for me to become comfortable playing baseball on Sundays in particular. My conscience always bothered me and I was convinced that I played my worst on Sundays for that very reason. 

Even to this day there are things that I still do not do on Sundays. Things like yard work and other "noisy" activities that may disturb my neighbors. I also come straight home from church and change my clothing, just like my mother told me to. Old habits tend to die hard I guess.

I suppose a young person reading this item today (fat chance), momentarily putting aside his or her $200 Iphone, would consider this all so terribly old fashioned and boring. But, you know what?

I am privileged to be able to talk about one of the most cherished, moralistic and happy eras in recent history and to do it from a first-person perspective.

Them's truly were the days!

POST NOTE: There goes another night's sleep!

SCHOOL LESSONS READ BY TEACHERS ON RADIO WAS PIONEERED IN CHICAGO DURING 1937 POLIO OUTBREAK

A UNICEF survey found that 94% of countries implemented some form of remote learning when COVID-19 closed schools last spring, including in the United States and Canada.

After coming to my attention the above priceless photo, obviously set up by a photographer of the day, I learned through some hasty research that this is not the first time education has been disrupted -- nor the first time that educators have harnessed remote learning. In 1937, the Chicago school system used radio to teach children during a polio outbreak, demonstrating how technology can be used in a time of crisis.

That particular year, a severe polio epidemic hit North America. At the time, this contagious virus had no cure, and it crippled or paralyzed many of those it infected. Across the country, playgrounds and pools closed, and children were banned from movie theaters and other public spaces. Chicago it seems had a record 109 cases in August, prompting the Board of Health in that city to postpone the start of school for three weeks.

This delay sparked the first large-scale “radio school” experiment through a highly innovative, though largely untested  program. Some 315,000 children in Grades 3 through 8 continued their education at home, receiving lessons over the radio.

By the late 1930s, radio had become a popular source of news and entertainment. More than 80% of  households owned at least one radio. *The radio shown in the accompanying photo is almost a replica of the one that sits in my office-study -- a family heirloom from the 1920s and '30s.

In the Chicago case, teachers collaborated with principals to create on-air lessons for each grade, with oversight from experts in each subject. Seven local radio stations donated air time. September 13 marked the first day of on-air school.

Local papers printed class schedules each morning. Social studies and science classes were slated for Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays; Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays were devoted to English and math. The on-air school day began with announcements and gym. Classes were short – just 15 minutes – providing simple, broad questions and assigning homework.

The objective was to be “entertaining yet informative.” Curriculum planners incorporated an engaging commercial broadcasting style into the lessons. Two principals monitored each broadcast, providing feedback to teachers on content, articulation, vocabulary and general performance. When schools reopened, students would submit their work and take tests to show mastery of the material.

Sixteen teachers answered phone calls from parents at the school district’s central office. After the phone bank logged more than 1,000 calls on the first day, they brought five more teachers on board.

News stories reporting on this novel radio school approach were mostly positive, but a few articles hinted at the challenges. Some youngsters were distracted or struggled to follow the lessons. There was no way to ask questions in the moment, and kids needed more parental involvement than usual.

Radio instruction officially ended at the end of September when schools reopened. Though the program ran for less than three weeks, it transformed the role of local radio for future generations of educators. 

Fast forward to 2020. When the current pandemic shut down schools last spring, nations around the world instituted remote learning. But many countries used multiple platforms: About three-quarters also offered classes on television and about half used radio learning – which was particularly important in developing nations.

    
Instruction through multiple technologies helps, but many kids simply have no access. Approximately one-third of students worldwide cannot participate in digital or on-air education because they don’t own a computer, TV or radio, lack reliable internet access or live in remote areas that lie beyond the range of broadcasts.

Certainly in Ontario the past year with its multiple school closures, teachers have worked feverishly and commendably in creating on line lessons for their students, virtually overnight and, heaven help us, this has been valuable ground work for the future.

Chicago’s handling of remote education during its 1937 polio epidemic offers lessons on ways to use technology to address the current educational disruptions. But even where most students have access to reliable internet service, the pandemic has highlighted the mass-scale burdens of the digital divide.

This certainly highlights the need for funding in nations worldwide, to address technological inequalities in schools and to teach educators, administrators, parents and students how to better use digital platforms.

The current pandemic could reshape education once school safely shifts back to the classroom. Innovative use of digital tools and platforms could enrich curriculum, provide online makeup material and create new ways to connect with students beyond the traditional modes of learning. It would also reduce the environmental impact from distributed papers and help teachers, students and parents to more easily connect outside of the classroom.

Pandemic teaching may not just be a temporary means to an end. It could ultimately improve education, much like the Chicago radio experiment in 1937.

A LOOK AT CONFUSION OVER THE SOURCE AND CURE OF SICKNESS IN OUR WORLD TODAY AND YESTERDAY

In this post I refer initially to the New American Standard Bible (NASB) which is relatively new to me, as it might be to most Wrights Lane readers. I also glean from the English Standard (ESV), New International (NIV) and King James (KJV) versions.

The New American Standard Bible is a literal translation from the original texts, well suited to study because of its accurate rendering of the source texts. It follows the style of the King James Version but uses modern English for words that have fallen out of use or changed their meanings. 

Fear over the current global pandemic has sent many to seek answers in Scripture. While consulting biblical verses is not a bad thing, sometimes these verses are misunderstood or manipulated to suit various presuppositions. More importantly, a contemporary reliance on translations and ignorance of ancient views on sickness can lead to serious confusion.

Ancient Israelites for instance, did not have the same type of faith in medicine as most modern people. In their worldview, the sickness was not something people could manipulate, control, cure, or even prevent. Thus, it is a mistake to read the Scriptures solely through a modern scientific lens. We must allow the original biblical language to impart meaning to us, not the other way around.

The NASB translation mentions the “infection of leprosy,” but ancient people did not have designated terms for infectious disease–nor did they know about bacteria or viruses. That, of course, does not mean that the terrible effects of lingering diseases (what we call “pandemics”) were absent in antiquity. But it will be hard to find the language of “infection” or “outbreak” in ancient writings.

The biblical term for “infection” or “ailment” is usually nega, which literally means a “strike” or “blow.” In the term’s verbal form, (naga), it means “to touch.” The mysterious affliction in Leviticus 13 that is most often rendered “leprosy” is, in fact, a “blow” in Hebrew and “infection” is a modernized English translation. Furthermore, translating the condition as “leprosy” makes it a common bacterial disease that can be treated with a course of antibiotics.

It's taken a while but I have concluded that such translation is misleading because we are not talking here about a pathogen with its own biological agenda, but rather a condition brought on by God and under divine control. In other words, God is the one who does the striking, not the disease.

Another English translation that may be misleading is that of “disease.” For instance, Genesis 12:17 reads, “But the Lord inflicted serious diseases on Pharaoh and his household because of Abram’s wife Sarai” (NIV). The “diseases” in the NIV translation is the plural form of a “blow.” The modern temptation is to associate “disease” with something contagious, like a virus, but the above verse begins, “The LORD struck”... A "blow" is not a naturally-occurring contagion, but a purposeful act of God.

The use of the term “plague” in English translations makes things even worse. In light of past outbreaks in human history (such as Bubonic plague), the word carries ominous associations for most people. The English insertion of “plague” appears in the ESV rendering of Exodus: “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Yet one plague more I will bring upon Pharaoh and upon Egypt’” (Exod 11:1 ESV). Here is the surprise, the same exact noun in this verse of ESV is translated as “plague” and not “disease or “infection”. Most modern people would associate a plague with some sort of pandemic, but that is not what the Bible communicates.

Now we have seen the same simple term translated quite differently into English from one verse to another. I deliberately used three different translations (no translation is perfect and we have at least 10 accepted versions to work from) and they can all be misleading. To ancient people, a “strike” or a “blow” from the LORD is not a disease, nor an infection, nor a pandemic. A biblical “strike” may make one sick, and there may be ways to alleviate the symptoms, but God is both the source and the cure in ancient Israelite thinking.

The Bible presents spiritual realities from a perspective that embraces the supernatural as a norm, so as long as we allow our scientific thinking to influence our interpretations, the actual meaning of biblical texts will continue to evade us.

Therein lies the conundrum of our age. It is all so difficult to sort out and to come to conclusive understanding. Yet the more inquisitive among us keep digging and looking for comprehensive answers to questions that continue to "plague" us.

In the end, we believe what we want to believe, rightly or wrongly; in some instances to our own peril.