” . . .when a man is driven to despair he is ready to smash everything in the vague hope that a better world may arise out of the ruins.” So wrote a former German official, Erich Koch-Weser, in 1931, as the spellbinding Hitler hovered on the periphery of power. A beaten down people saw in Hitler a chance to rise again. Their misery was real, but their choices in dealing with it caused tragedy for themselves and most of the world.
While the misery in this country has not reached the level suffered by the German people during that time, we can still note the tendency to grasp at simple solutions. They range from “down with government” to “down with Wall Street” to “down with religion.” Atheism would answer the problem of religious intolerance, for example, by simply ridding the world of religion. That solution gets rid of religious intolerance but offers no help for our intolerance of differing political views or ethnicity. Could it be that the underlying issue is not religion (or government, or Wall Street), but our sinful tendencies?
Solutions, most likely, will require difficult choices and the overcoming of our inclination to fight only for our tribe or group instead of the common good, not a magical waving of some political wand.



The Holocaust surely is a tragedy as evil as ever envisioned. It caused some to disavow the idea of a loving God. I see it as evidence, neither of God’s impotence nor of his lack of caring, but as evidence of human failing. The Holocaust was not sent by God. It happened because we sinned, chose hatred. Directly caused by Hitler and the Nazis, yes, but it also may be traced to choices as far back as the religious wars of the 1600’s, which left Germany a devastated nation and led eventually to more wars and ethnic cleansing. The Holocaust came, not from God, but from humans. It is evidence of our choices, for which we need repentance and confession and forgiveness, the only actions that will prevent more Holocausts.
Our little Island County (Washington), population 78,506, gained media attention yesterday for the sentencing of the so-called Barefoot Bandit. The Bandit, Colton Harris-Moore (now twenty), gained a cult following when he eluded authorities for two years. He broke into houses and stores, then stole vehicles, boats and planes to travel across the country. His final flight ended in the Bahamas.
When I was assigned to work in Saudi Arabia, I thought I would wear an abiya, the black robe worn by most women there. It was the custom, I figured, and I would follow it.
I knew a Saudi woman, educated in the U.S., who chose the old customs when she returned to her country. She indicated a disdain for much of what she had seen in the United States: the pornography, the broken homes, the casual sex. For reasons like these, some Middle Eastern and other women proudly don the abiya. For them, it is a symbol of the value they place on the family and the importance of a woman’s worth aside from her physical appearance. For them, it allows a focus on who they are and not on their worth as a sex object.
Christian history fascinates: all the advances and retreats, deaths and resurrections of the church over the centuries. Such understanding allows perspective in these times of waning Christian influence in the old countries of “Christendom.”
We long ago abandoned a weekly day of rest. Now we’re tossing out those few days of national rest like Thanksgiving.
My stories often begin with the death of a loved one or of a relationship. Perhaps it’s a subconscious wrestling with my father’s death when I was thirteen.
Few of us look forward to dental visits. Nevertheless, dental work today is less dreaded because of modern analgesics which numb the gum and allow repairs to be done in relative painlessness, compared to a generation or so ago. Indeed we become so used to the miracles of modern medical science that we tend to think all our physical ills should be resolved with a shot or a pill.
