Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful… (Acts 3:2)

My mother’s funeral was very well attended.  Following the service, our home was flooded by dozens of friends who were faded into faceless, sepia-toned images by my state of shock.  But two grief-painted portraits hang side-by-side in memory’s hallowed gallery.

She was a pretty, middle-aged lady who tried with all her might and makeup to be beautiful and wise.  With one arm on my shoulder, she guided me around my mother’s yard, explaining each plant, flower, and emotion of the day’s experiences as if I were a tourist.  She was Job’s friends meets Charlie Brown’s teacher—infuriating and unintelligible!

To the speechless onlookers separated from us by window glass and better judgment, we must have looked like Pain and Comfort quietly walking through Grief’s Garden.  Pedestrians may have observed a beggar at the Beautiful Gate, but grief bends reality making cripples of the strongest.

“Randy Stevens is here to see you,” said a faceless voice.

We were just on the little boy side of toddlerhood when Randy’s parents noticed a problem.  Muscular Dystrophy became the rule which measured the childhood reality of my friend.  What began as weakness all too quickly became struggle, resignation, and a chair.  Disease stole Randy’s health almost as quickly as divorce separated him from childhood friends.  We did not meet again for years.

Doctors predicted Randy would not live to see sixteen.  He was seventeen the night he came to see me after the funeral.  He was only able to see me because he had lost all voluntary motor functions, including his ability to speak.  In a disease-twisted mass on the floor of a van, barely alive, he just looked at me.

On the ugliest day of my young life, I saw something beautiful.

Twenty-five years hence, I am grateful for my ugly beautiful memory of Randy Stevens.  I am only just learning to see the Ugly Beautiful and Randy is one of my tutors.   I am humbled he came to see me.  I am surprised by the wordless volumes he spoke in those brief moments and thankful that tears still come with these recollections.

Forty-one years hence, I am only just beginning to love the Ugly Beautiful and I am humbled by a Savior that came to see us.  I am continually surprised by the wordless volumes the Word became flesh speaks to my soul.  Inescapably drawn to Jesus’ cross,  I am filled with wonder and amazement at a God who bends grief into glory and ugly into beautiful.

Merry Christmas!

So, I haven’t blogged in a while–sorry!  But with it being Christmas, and having a little time on my hands, I thought it might be fun to pick this up again, but in an unlikely place.  Please accept this article as my Christmas present to all who care to read it.

As you may know, I’ve been dual-employed for the past many months as a public school teacher and as a part-time pastor/preacher.  My school employer asked me to handle “character education” in addition to teaching 5th grade language arts and social studies.  When we arrive back to school after the winter break, our character education focus for January will be “Tolerance”.  A few days ago, the Duval County Public School System web site provided me a link to an article titled “Being ‘Tolerant’ About Creationism” by Sean Price.

After reading his article, I felt compelled to respond and include all of you.  So, sit on something comfortable, read his article and my response below.  (I sent him the response at noon on 12/23…he has not yet posted it to the “Tolerance” site.)

Mr. Price, I am a Christian and a Creationist.  I have a master’s degree, am a public school teacher, and I am in charge of character education at our school.

Let me start by saying I’m sure you never expected for someone like me to even read your article.  However, I have and I find it both condescending and ironic.  I’m not sure who has linked ignorance and poverty to people who believe in Creationism, but I’d really love to see that research!

If one only casually studies the history of education in America, they would be confronted with the fact that Christians founded many of the educational institutions and continue to educate millions of people worldwide every year.  And should you question the quality of their education or be tempted to label it as “ignorance”, examine the facts and do the research.  Take a good look at parochial, Catholic, and Evangelical Christian Schools–are their SAT scores lower or higher than their public school counterparts?  Do a lower percentage of students at Creation-teaching schools go on to colleges and universities?

The irony of your article is that Secularists have won the day in the public education arena and yet you are still whining about not having 100% compliance.  The irony of your article is that had it not been for tolerant Creationists, you would not have the voice you now have.  So the tables have turned and the majority (by a margin of 3%) believes in Evolution over Creation.  The question for you should now be, “Who is failing?”

Since Evolution (in the vast majority of public schools, colleges, and universities) is and has been the ONLY scientific perspective taught for the last 40+ years, and you have only managed to win by a margin of 3%, how successful do you suppose you have been?  If your science is so unquestionable, so convincing, so irrefutable, why have you not convinced 97%?  I guess battling the ignorant, impoverished Creationists is a job too difficult for the largest and wealthiest public education system in world history!

One final thing…Creationists are not your real enemy, Evolutionists are.  I have studied in public institutions and private ones long enough to know Evolutionists don’t always agree with themselves.  Furthermore, how often have the text books been changed because Evolution Scientists got it wrong or simply falsified “evidence”?   Do you remember “Nebraska Man” or “Piltdown Man“?  In the late 1980′s while at a Christian university some of the hoaxes of Evolution were exposed to me using Time Magazine and other secular periodicals. I then matriculated to a state university where the biology texts were teaching “Piltdown Man” as scientific fact.  When I questioned the professor about what everyone else had accepted as a hoax, he dismissed me and quickly defended his belief and the text much like a Christian would a Bible.  I have since encountered similar resistance to honest discussion among many of the Evolutionary scientific community.

Most Christians are tolerant of Evolutionists as long as they are honest about their science and their agenda.  And herein is the rub: When you guys are honest, it comes off with the same intellectual superiority and condescension with which you wrote this article.

Mr. Price, what if the shoe was on the other foot; would you want your “tolerance”?

Toby

Language Arts Teacher

Character Ed Director

Jacksonville, FL

Remove the stain of my guilt.

Psalm 51:9

Do you ever marvel at the magic of garbage removal?  One night each week we put cans full of seven days’ refuse at the end of our driveways and go to bed.  We wake the next morning, back our cars out of the driveway, and find those same cans upside down, emptied of their vile contents; and not just our garbage, but that of the whole neighborhood.  It’s as mysterious as it is amazing!

Never is the magic of garbage removal more important than just prior to a move.  After all, before moving from one location to another, from the old house to the new, one must clean out the closets, cabinets, and garage and get rid of the refuse.

I was once preparing to sell my house and move to a new city when I learned the deeper magic of garbage removal.  I started by cleaning the yard, working from outside-in.  What I thought would take only a few hours took several days.  The funny thing about looking for your garbage is the more you look, the more you find.  I found enough of my own rubbish to fill the ten feet at the end of my driveway with a chest-deep pile.  Some items included the construction debris from last summer’s home improvement project, worn-out old clothes, unused toys, and bags of household trash.  I stood in front of my garage and marveled at the site of all my old stuff.  How could one man accumulate so much junk?  Should I put some of it on e-bay?  Would the garbage man have a coronary when he saw the magnitude of my mountain?  Would he take it all or leave some for next week?

Guilt is an understandable response when one sees the mess they’ve made.  So I decided to set my alarm for o’dark-thirty, don my work gloves, and help my garbage man just to make sure my driveway was thoroughly cleaned.  But, what if he comes before my alarm goes off? I thought.  So, I decided to sleep on the couch, near the front door so I might hear the early morning symphony of diesel and steel, arise and help the garbage man.  I awoke before dawn, went outside into the driveway and found nothing but empty cans.  Standing in bleary-eyed disbelief, I looked and wondered how I could have slept while the garbage man moved my mountain of mess.  In the shadow of early morning, I saw an amazing picture of expiation; the removal of spiritual garbage. 

Do you ever marvel at the magic of garbage removal?  Human beings can accumulate a lot of spiritual trash in the course of life.  Yet for the Christian there is a Garbage Man!  Repentance is taking our cans full of refuse to the end of the driveway and trusting the Garbage Man to do His work while we are at rest.

The magic of spiritual garbage removal is never more important than when preparing to move.  I am going to leave my old life, my home in this city and move to a new home in a New City.  Before leaving, the cabinets, closets, and garage of this old life must be rid of their rubbish.  The job one might think would take only hours can turn into a lifetime.  The funny thing about looking for my garbage is the more I look, the more I find.  I find sacks of selfishness, pounds of pride, an avalanche of anger, and the debris of unresolved fights with family.  Sometimes I stand and marvel at the site of all my stuff!  How could one man accumulate so much junk?  Should I put some of it on e-Bay?  Will the Garbage Man have a coronary when He sees the magnitude of my mountain?  Will He be able to take it all away, or will He leave some behind?

Guilt is my understandable response when seeing the mess I’ve made.  So, I set my alarm to wake up at o’dark-thirty to don my religious work gloves and help the Garbage Man clear my driveway.  But to my constant surprise, when I wake in the morning I find nothing but empty cans.  Standing in bleary-eyed disbelief I often wonder, How can I sleep while the Garbage Man removes my mountains of mess?  I would have helped if He had only awakened me.

Suddenly the fog of my own self-absorbed delusion lifts as understanding dawns.  God doesn’t need me to help Him remove my garbage.   He has Jesus, the Garbage Man for that.  King David had it right in his psalm of repentance when he said, Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.  Oh, give me back my joy again; you have broken me—now let me rejoice.  Don’t keep looking at my sins. Remove the stain of my guilt (Ps 51:7-9).  From the evidence of the verbs David used, he believed he was passive with respect to his spiritual garbage removal.  That’s where Jesus, the Garbage Man comes in:  We repent, Jesus removes.

Isn’t repentance our part of spiritual garbage removal?  Don’t we have some work to do?  Certainly we have some responsibility to take out the trash, to get the cans to the end of the driveway, but is that the same as removal?  No, all we can do is present all our stuff to the Garbage Man at the end of the driveway of surrender and trust Him to remove it from us.

Epilogue:  An Unexpected Opportunity

There is an unexpected benefit produced when He removes so much of our garbage— the neighbors notice!  A neighbor recently commented, I guess you are serious about moving!  I saw all your trash out last night—didn’t think the Garbage Man would take so much!  I answered back, Yeah, I know.  But under my breath I whisper, You have no idea how much the Garbage Man can take—not yet!

Are you serious about moving?  Discover the magic of Jesus, Garbage Man!