Primitive Pete's Life Lessons

My favorite time in eighth-grade wood shop was watching the educational films--the best of which was The ABC of Hand Tools, starring the inimitable, Primitive Pete. That young fella couldn't understand why everything he did in his shop went wrong, because he did everything right. No one could convince him otherwise. Pete's specialty was multipurpose tools, which included all tools. His favorite was the claw hammer. It was designed to work with screwdrivers, files or virtually any other tool. In fact, claw hammers would do anything but drive nails. For that he used a monkey wrench. Primitive Pete has millions of kindred spirits in today's culture. For instance, there's Primitive Pia, whose definition of physical attractiveness includes a deep, tawny skin tone. The obvious best choice for that outcome is the infrared tanning bed, or in mid-summer, the sun. Skin cancer? That's for wimps and old folks. If you were to tell her that regular tanning multiplies her likelihood of getting melanoma, she'd just look at you vacantly, check her cell phone and run off for her next tanning appointment. Does she know that melanoma is one of the hardest cancers to eradicate? Does she know that melanoma has to be cut out of the flesh, leaving massive scars in her toasted skin? Poor, prematurely aged Primitive Pia won't find that one bit attractive. Then there's Primitive Perry, whose hormones force him to pursue sexual contact with anything that breathes. Hugh Hefner is his idle, and the Playboy bunny is his icon. Multiple partners are cool, 'cause variety is the spice of life. But Perry doesn't notice that the more he indulges his hormones, the less control he has over his life. He becomes as two-dimenstional and shallow as the porn he's addicted to, and each "conquest" gives him less satisfaction. Ultimate frustration awaits poor, emotionally repressed Primitive Perry, driven by his drive to avoid it. Primitive Pricilla's singular passion is to look like Hollywood's skeletal starlets who grace gossip magazines' covers. If she can't reach that ideal, she believes she will surely die. Trouble is, no matter how hard she exercises and diets, no matter how thin she gets, she always sees thirty pounds of fat flabbing back at her from the mirror. And though she believes she will die if she doesn't reach her ideal look, poor, emaciated Primitive Pricilla will most surely die if she keeps trying. Primitive Preston simply must reach the crest of corporate success. That materialistic mania consumes his every waking moment--every dream. Hard work, endless hours and cut corners are the rule of his life. Relationships? No time for that. Family? It can wait. What won't wait is the heart attack lurking in poor, rich, powerful Primitive Preston's not-so-distant future. Success is a fickle lover. Primitive Pieper won't feel complete without a dominant male in her life. The more dominant the better. His belittlement and beatings aren't fun, but she loves him, and he always says he's sorry. If she gives him a chance he's bound to change. Hopefully it will happen before he completely looses control, and as so many women have done before her, poor, battered, unworthy Primitive Pieper dies at her lover's hand. Perhaps the most pitiful of all is Primitive Porfirieo, who recognizes his spiritual component and spends his life pursuing spiritual fulfillment. Porfirieo intimately knows all of history's philosophers, enlightened ones and holy men, having studied each exhaustively. He's frustrated, though, because none of them have it quite right. To remedy their individual philosophies' shortcomings, Porfirieo creates his own enlightenment based on the best of all the others. He may even manage to attract a few disciples ... and their money, but he always remains "teachable," open to the best of what's new in spiritual enlightenment. Porfirieo loves Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and even Yogi Bear. But following just one of them because He said He was the only way to the Father is out of the question. Porfirieo knows it can't be that easy. You have to figure it all out and come to an enlightened state of existence by your own works. Poor prideful, Primitive Porfirieo. God hasn't a chance against his personal wisdom.

60 Minutes II comment

"Geepers?" Gimme a break. Steve Hartman's "pushing the limits of indecency" pushed the limits of credibility. Yes, I understand all journalists' revulsion toward censorship. The cure is, in fact, far worse than the disease. Our societal mores, however, are fast auguring in to the Pop Culture cesspool, a putrefying latrine that our entertainment media fills daily. And we, the people, are so used to the stench that it seems perfectly normal.

Idiots Savant

Before you click on the link in this post, I must offer a disclaimer: PLIM.org proclaims some ... shall we say ... unique doctrine relating to a special, "divine revelation," supposedly received by a Dr. H. C. Kinley back in the 80s. The problem is some of it sounds reasonable. But remember this: All convincing lies wear the cloak of truth. An article by Lee Warren, of PLIM.org treated the subject of "idiots savant" in a fascinating way, but ignored one possible explanation as to where they get the knowledge that enables their narrow-but-deep range of ability. I've observed developmentally disabled people trying to grasp information and concepts. While learning is as complex as any other human ability, some aspects seem fairly consistent across the board. One is what I might call "the light bulb factor": given enough information, the cognitive light bulb blinks on. Compared to a genius, I'm a decidedly dim bulb, and idiots are about that dim when compared to me. When I see or otherwise sense something, my neural, sensory-receptor system converts the stimulus to electrochemical patterns. My brain automatically tries to match those patterns with others already residing in memory. If no match occurs, I experience confusion and disorientation. When even an approximate match occurs, my mind drags all the related data out of hiding for comparison with the new information. Those comparisons are then stored for future comparisons, and so on. Sensory input, however, isn't the only source of neural stimulation. The mind also creates a cognitive database, corresponding to the sensory one, of conceptual interpretations of outside thoughts, ideas and concepts that run parallel with sensory stimulation analyses. What we call creative thought is simply oblique sequences of relational database hits, processed to become "new" ideas. In fact, nothing is really new, but simply fresh interactions of old information, rather like a cow chewing her cud. Everything we sense or think contributes to that bi-polar, relational database. In some people, however, the process of analyzing what they sense is skewed. Due to an organic inability to correctly assign stimuli to the corresponding faculties, the broad range of sensory information is processed in terms of the one receptive faculty, giving the affected person the appearance of genius in that one area. Most of us have looked through color filtering material to see that filtering effect in action. A red filter makes all red objects in the field of view look white, due to our visual cortex automatically adjusting to the filter's overall color cast. The red-tinted picture with the white stop sign seems perfectly normal. That is analogous to the skewed perceptions mentioned above. Because its only frame of reference is itself, the perceptually-challenged mind seems, to itself, perfectly normal. The idiot savant is an extreme example of the "normal" skewing within each mind's conceptual structure. We all have "blind spots" in our thought process, just as we have blind spots in our visual field. Our marvelous brains, the creation of our infinitely MORE marvelous Savior, accommodate to missing or skewed information so they can continue functioning with minimal disruption. Part of the social adjustment process called maturing is realizing that we have such blind spots in our frames of reference. And once we reach that realization, we must seek a source of objective, unskewed information--or maybe I should say, the only Source of objective Truth: the self-existent, eternal One.

And The Greatest of These ...

God's Word, especially passages like Psalm 119, urge passion, and even zeal, in our response to His revelation. After all, it contains, in finite form, God's infinite mind. The Bible, however, is nothing as long as it remains only ink on paper. His Holy Spirit transforms those static impressions into His living, holy, sufficient Word when a human mind reads, absorbs and meditates on them, and not before. But even then, the finite number of decidedly finite, human minds can only glean a finite, albeit astronomical, amount of Truth from those holy words. That leaves the surface of His Word unscratched by all our human digging. Since we humans seem motivated more by fear than by conviction, I must admit to a fear concerning the many campaigns to defend God's Word and the teachings it contains. 1Co 8:1 says, "... Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth." We must guard against that pride in our knowledge, our work, our scholarship and our teachings. We must exercise even more zeal in guarding against such puffing up than we exercise in our quest for, and proclaiming of, Truth. When the Pharisee lawyer asked Yeshua which was the great commandment in the law, Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. (Matthew 22:37-40) Of all the legal intricacies Yeshua could have expounded; of all the New Testament principles He could have emphasized, he chose to teach love's preeminence. Regardless how vigorously we defend God's beloved Word, we must first obey His Greatest Commandments. If we fail in that commission we instantly adopt the pharisaical spirit that impaled Yeshua to His ignominious death. If we fail to FIRST love God, which includes loving what He expressed of Himself in creation, we have failed His law in all respects. Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3) And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins. (1 Peter 4:8) Simon Peter's simple statement exemplifies the depth of God's Word, because in those few words he summarized the entire Bible. God's love for humanity, expressed through Yeshua's sacrifice, covered the multitude of sins. Praise the eternal, self-existent God!

Radical Prison Reform Pattern

Why does the correctional system insist on "socializing" prisoners who's behavior is characterized by anti-social behavior. Such predators target less violent prisoners, often perpetrating inhumane, even heinous, crimes against them. And the popular image of prison staff has many of them complicit with such unthinkable behavior through their overt, sadistic cooperation, their black-market profiteering or through unconscionable negligence. If that is indeed an issue, why not build maximum-security prisons with only solitary cells, where all the prisoners' needs, including feeding, exercise, hygiene, intellectual stimulation, medical care and recreation are provided right there? I envision a waterproof, climate-controlled cell where all sleeping and sitting surfaces go straight to the floor--no hiding places. A tray would lower from the ceiling with food(no utensils), flushable paper clothing or anything else the prisoner might need. Speaking of flushing, a bidet instead of a conventional commode would eliminate toilet backups. Cleaning--both of the prisoner and the cell--would take place with a daily shower, followed by a drying stream of warm air. A built-in treadmill and various hand holds would provide exercise. A computer terminal with the monitor behind a transparent, wall panel, a membrane keyboard with built-in trackball, and extensive, non-violent educational and entertainment resources would provide screened stimulation and communication. That same computer monitor would double as a specially-programmed entertainment and visitor access system. Any necessary physical visitation, such as with a physician, a dentist or a barber, would have at least two guards in accompaniment, be recorded from at least two sides to prohibit hidden actions, and anonymous, independent oversight personnel would review and account for every instant. All corrections personnel would be warned on placement that even one prisoner-involved procedural violation would result in their termination. There would be no "corrupt guards." Isolation and surveillance are justified by violent prisoners' antisocial behavior patterns, which thrive on concealed physical contact with their victims. When people act like dangerous animals, treat them like dangerous animals. While the initial investment would be sizable, costs of inmate care and facility maintenance would be minimal. Just think: no addiction, predation, violence, escapes, vandalism or criminal mentoring. Something has to change in our violent, corrupt penal system. Why not make the changes thoughtful, functional and fundamental?

Picking On Daisies

She loves me ... she loves me not. She loves me ... she loves me not. She loves me ... she loves me not... How I remember those times when I was unsure of Her Love. "Her" could have been any of a dozen female types for whose love I longed. Most of us remember the moment we discovered she, or he, loved us in return. What exhilaration! We felt like dancing on clouds, shouting our love to the world. No more picking apart those poor daisies! No more longing for the love of that special "other". A few years ago I dreamed of a love that went even beyond that "daisy-picking" love of youth. In that dream I found myself talking with a young man because he carried a Bible. At first, I thought he was a brother in the Lord. But soon I spotted the book's title: The New World Bible. The guy was a Jehovah's Witness. During our conversation, he tried probing with the usual, divisive questions. Instead of trying to answer them, however, I concentrated on our common values, and the Bible's living role in our lives. I wanted him to realize that "members of Christendom" could be Christians, too. That his Theocracy was, in fact, a worldly organization, not to be confused with God's kingdom. But before I could get to all that good stuff, I began feeling a love for him that transcended any love I'd felt for a human being. I longed for him to realize how much God loved him, not because he sold books door-to-door, but because he lived, and for no other reason. When I awoke, I continued feeling that unprecedented love. I pondered the dream and the love that lingered from it until I realized why it had happened: God allowed me to feel an infinitesimal part of His love, even for a young man who pursued error. Then, for the first time in my life, I realized that was the kind of love God had for me. I realized being a Christian wasn't about holy living or my personal doctrine and convictions, despite those things' importance, but about receiving God's love through Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, and relaying it to the loveless world around me. I learned holy living and all that good religious stuff should flow out of a unique, God-given love-conviction, and outside of that order, all religious activity was nothing more than a sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. The joy I felt far transcended any I had felt when The Lady Of My Dreams declared her love for me. Rather than dancing on clouds, I danced on stars. And rather than simply enjoying that sensation, I realized it wasn't mine to hoard. The joy I felt must go out to the world, even as the angels sang at Jesus' birth. The world must know that God already proved his love to this fallen humanity, and whether or not we feel it as God allowed me to, His love is there, even for the most depraved of us. From that dream on, the daisy community was safe from my petal-picking hunger for love. But God's infinite love had found another conduit to a love-deprived world.

Militia of the Immaculata

I happened upon a web site for the Militia of the Immaculata, a group of people who defend and propagate the Roman Catholic teachings about Jesus' mother. Having been raised a Catholic, I was for many years encouraged to venerate Mary. My teachers proclaimed that she was the only woman conceived without original sin, and that after the immaculate conception, she remained a virgin. In honor of those two distinctions, we prayed to her for her intercession with her Son, Jesus. The Rosary was our most powerful prayer tool, and a novina of(nine) Rosaries was enough to gain freedom from Purgatory. We called it a Plenary Indulgence. Down at my level of reprobation, such things were too high for me to consider. I heartily believed the ecclisiastical verdict that I was a depraved sinner forever, and my only hope for heaven was to confess my sins to a priest whenever I was within visiting distance of a Catholic church, and if I was lucky, to have a priest give me the sacriment of Extreme Unction when I died. Because everybody knew God's grace was only available through sacrimental indulgences. When I started reading the Bible, however, somehow I knew it was God's Word, and the only absolute truth in this depraved world. And when it didn't align with my catacism and other Catholic teachings, Tradition simply didn't cut it as an excuse. Much of what the Catholic church teaches about Mary isn't in the Bible. And according to that Good Book, Jesus is the only intercessor between God and mankind. In fact, For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time. (1 Timothy 2:5-6) Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved. (Acts 4:12) And that's just scratching the surface of Catholic teachings that don't jive with the Bible. Some Catholic teachings, in fact, are pure herisy: At the top of the list is the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Catholics must attend mass once a week as--not just a reenactment of Jesus sacrifice on the cross, but as its reinstatement. In short, Jesus' one-time death was not enough to gain our salvation. In answer, the Bible says, By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. And every priest standeth daily ministering and offering oftentimes the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins: But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God; From henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool. For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified. (Hebrews 10:10-14) So, today I am not a member of the Catholic church. And not only that, but I can't see how people who cling to Catholicism's apostate teachings can hope for personal salvation. Yet I have personally known Catholic brethren who bore the pure fruit of God's Spirit. And there are many Catholics who have lived exemplary lives of Christian love and faithfulness. Among them are Maximilian Kolbe, who gave of himself constantly, until he offered himself as a substitute for a married man who was doomed to die at Auschwitz. And of course everyone has heard of Mother Theresa, who spent her life tending to and defending the nobodies of Calcutta. They, and many others, offered their lives because they so acutely felt Jesus' love for themselves, their neighbors and their enemies. My only conclusion can be that regardless what religious affiliation people claim, if they love the Lord God with all their bodies, minds, souls and spirits, and their neighbors as themselves, they obey the Greatest Comandment. Even if they never walk the sawdust trail, accepting the Lord Jesus Christ as their own Personal Savior after an evangelistic service according to the Evangelical Protestant standard; even if they call themselves Catholics, or maybe Seventh Day Adventists, or even Mormans or Jehovah's Witnesses, and they love God and accept His grace through Jesus' sacrifice on the cross--or torture stick--maybe even those people have a hope for eternal life. I've long held that adherants to all religions will be surprised who they find in heaven--and who they won't find. Our salvation is God's business, and maybe, just maybe, those of us who presume to judge others' eternal destiny will find ourselves out in the cold--or fire--for eternity.

And The Converse Is ...

Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! (Psalm 133:1) Since our culture tends to focus on the negative, I'll look at the opposite of that verse: Ignore how bad and unpleasant it is for brethren to dwell divided in disunity. Now, that's easy to do because it's typical of congregational "life", not only today, but since Yeshua established the church. We seem to be happier and more fulfilled when we ignore our corporate attitudinal problems, our interpersonal squabbles and our factitious divisions. If it is indeed good and pleasant to dwell in unity--as it must be since Bible tells says it--then it is bad(translated, sinful)and unpleasant not to. The question is, "If disobeying is unpleasant, why do we persist in it?" One answer is, "Habit." Now, that's one of those exceedingly long short words, because it seems deceptively simple. Though many of us came to Messiah at a relatively early age, the habit of living in the flesh and successfully ignoring it became ingrained. The Bible calls it the Old Man, or the Flesh. Since God commands us, through his Word, to crucify that guy and leave him there to rot in God's light and heat ... well, we need to do it. We need to do it, just as a living body needs to breathe. We don't breathe out of obedience; it's part of living. And we all know what the converse of that is ... (DISCLAIMER: While the philosopher will pick at my use of converse in this essay, it suits my meaning better than the more strictly correct word, opposite ... so there!)

LANGUAGE

It is marvelous, being humanity's only creation that can simultaneously simplify the complex, and complicate the simple. It is essential for contemplation, for conceptualization and for communication, but they are late in the thought process. So what comes before? What precedes language? The seed of thought is the essence of God: imagination The Bible says God spoke the universe into existence. That's communication. But what of the first three steps in the process? Since God created humanity in His image, one might conclude that His thought process is similar to ours, though infinitely superior in scope. God's speech was the engine of creation, so if His thought process is indeed similar to ours, He began with imagination. And what an imagination it is! Every detail of the cosmos, from the physical law that rules the material universe to the minute substructures within each living cell, occurred to Him as an idea. Our temporal minds can't wrap themselves around the infinite, eternal God. Somehow, He knew throughout eternity exactly how His creation would play out. At no point in eternity did he not see every detail of His universe, from beginning to end. Yet, He chose words--language--to bring about His creation. What power words have! As language users, we have the responsibility to communicate with care. What we say has its own effect, regardless what we intend by it. We cannot imagine what would have happened if God had misspoken His creation. Of course, that is impossible, because by definition, anything God speaks is perfect. But we don't enjoy perfection as one of our attributes. Unlike God, we can accidentally destroy when intending to build up. Language is at once, our blessing and our curse. What it does in our hands is our responsibility. And its fruit will judge us.

Says Who?

Proverbs 20:6 Many a man proclaims his own loving-kindness and goodness, but a faithful man who can find? (Amplified) Just as I suspected! Watch closely, those who proclaim their wonderful walk with the Lord, their faithfulness in prayer, their sinless perfection. Glowing testimonies as often as not intimidate the audience. Like the Publican, when the Pharisee stood in the temple "thanking" God that he wasn't like the sinners, honest seekers listen with broken hearts, craving the kind of life that would produce such a wonderful relationship with God. The seeker, more often than not, doesn't realize that only foolishness toots its own horn. The wise, the holy ones, those intimate with God, only know how short they fall compared to God's perfect standard. And all they care about is becoming more like Jesus.