Day 8 - Hope of Righteousness

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Hope of Righteousness

But by faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope.
Galatians 5:5

Have you ever looked forward to receiving something, only to discover that it was already yours? In a way, an inheritance is like this. The moment a will is signed, and the intention of the owner made clear, the inheritance is sure, providing that another will is never made! A better example might be a characteristic that you have admired in another person, never realizing that the same trait was developing in your life. And so you ask God to make you patient, not understanding that this is the very thing that others see in you.

Righteousness, as the condition for which we hope, falls into this category. To be righteous is to be in a right relationship with God. It is the result of Christ’s sacrifice for our sins. Unlike sanctification, the process of holiness, which takes a lifetime, righteousness happens only once. Actually, it would be better to say that it happened once – on Calvary. On the cross our sins were laid upon our Savior; the Innocent One was pronounced guilty and the guilty ones were declared innocent. All this is the gift of Christ, and it is ours by grace, the unmerited love of God.

So why do we hope for righteousness? Because we do not appropriate God’s gift all at once. We have been justified by grace, through faith; but we don’t get our heads around this completely because, secretly, we still think there is something we need to do in order to gain peace with God. Paul looks forward to the Day of Christ’s coming when we shall not only be completely justified, declared righteous by God, but we shall know it, and be at peace.

Prayer of the Day
Merciful God,
teach us to open the gift of the righteousness of Christ,
which You have placed into our hands.
Help us to clothe ourselves with His goodness,
His purity, and His grace.
So may we become what we hope for –
children of the Covenant
judged acceptable through His blood.
For His name’s sake.
Amen.

Day 7 - Hope as a Defense

Child of Hope: An Advent Devotional

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Hope as a Defense

But since we belong to the day, let us be self-controlled, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and hope of salvation as a helmet.
I Thessalonians 5:8

After the attack, which seriously wounded his only real friend, Michael calmly announced that he had had no say in the matter. There had been a voice inside his head, telling him to take and use the knife. He had heard it repeatedly. He felt that he could not refuse. He didn’t do it – it was the voice in his head.

Although we are, sometimes, rightly skeptical about those who have a convenient voice to blame, we must still acknowledge that, on occasions, we all pay too much attention to the ideas that others put in our heads. Don’t believe me? Try this. Spend time with a group that behaves in a particular manner, and you will be more likely to fall into their way of speaking and thinking. Recently, an Englishman was appointed to an important job in the Netherlands. When he was interviewed on television, just a few months later, he had developed a pronounced Dutch accent! There are other ways in which the opinions of others can get inside our heads. It’s not just our accents that can change. We can, for example, become more cynical, less thoughtful, less careful of our language or our morals.

That’s why Scripture says that we must wear hope as a helmet. We are to put on faith and love as a breastplate: faith in God, which protects us inwardly, and love for others which protects us outwardly. The third element in our defense is the hope of salvation – the settled confidence that God has saved us both now and forever. Hope’s function is to protect our minds. When our hope is fixed upon God, the passing fancies and the evil voices of our day can never hold us.

Prayer for the Day
Lord God,
protect us by Your Word
from the temptations that assail us.
May our hope be secure and sincere,
since it depends upon Your Word, which will never fail.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Day 6 - Hope Enables Obedience

Child of Hope: An Advent Devotional

Friday, December 5, 2008

Hope Enables Obedience


Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”
Romans 4:18

Have you ever believed anything against all hope? Perhaps your team was down by a large margin and, realistically, there was little hope of a comeback. Despite the odds, you still hoped that something would happen. You were “hoping against all hope.”

Abraham, on a human level, must have thought it unlikely that he would father a nation, or inherit a land that God would give him. Yet, he hoped. And that hope was far more significant than a sports fan’s wishful thinking. Abraham knew that, humanly speaking, he didn’t have a hope. He was too old, and too far from the land of promise. There were too many obstacles along the way. Nevertheless, Abraham chose to hope, because He knew the One in whom to place His trust.

In Romans 4:18, Paul quotes Genesis 15:5 – “so shall your offspring be.” This is no accident. Earlier in the same chapter, Paul uses Genesis 15:6 to explain what it means to be justified by faith. The point is clear. The promise in which Abraham hoped would be fulfilled, not by human agency, but by the hand of God.

It really is all about God. Abraham learned to trust in the God who made promises to him. Despite the circumstances of his life, Abraham believed. Can you do the same? It may be that you are trusting God for something that, deep down, is simply impossible. But all things are possible with God. If your request is in line with His good and perfect will, and if the timing agrees with His providential purposes, then you may hope against hope, and it shall be done.

Prayer for the Day
Father God,
thank You for the promises of Your Word,
which cannot fail.
Help us to trust them for our own lives,
and help us to trust You with our lives.
In the name of Jesus.
Amen.

Day 5 - Hope in God's Mercy

Child of Hope: An Advent Devotional

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Hope in God’s Mercy

But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear Him, on those who hope in His unfailing love.
Psalm 33:18

Did you ever feel that someone was watching you? It’s not a pleasant feeling. You wonder what you did wrong. Why is someone taking such an interest in you? Surely, their intentions cannot be good? No-one wants to live in an Orwellian society where our every move is monitored, our every action held up to scrutiny.

Of course, the whole concept changes when you know who is watching you. A child may take delight in breaking away from her parents, but deep down she is comforted knowing that Mom always has her eye on her, that Dad will not let any harm come to her. It’s the same when we fall in love. Our eyes meet across the room and a connection is made. “He’s looking at me!” We don’t resent a look of love.

When God looks at us, His is a look of love. The Hebrew word for that love is “hesed,” which is often translated as mercy or loving-kindness. When we live with a proper awe for the God who made us, then His eyes are upon us. When we place our hope in His unfailing love, then we should know that He is always watching out for us. Mercy is the aspect of God’s character that responds to our misery. Sin is miserable. Alienation from God, which is caused by sin, makes us want to weep. We feel lost, alone, afraid. But if, in response to His love, we turn back to Him and, like the prodigal, find Him running to greet us, then misery is overcome by mercy. He loves us. He will not take His eyes off us – this is our hope.

Prayer for the Day
Dear Lord,
source of all mercy and love,
we confess that we have wandered far from Your ways,
in our pride, we have sought out our own paths;
yet in Your loving-kindness You have brought us home.
May we be content to stay in Your presence;
may our hope in Your mercy never fail.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Day 4 - Hope in God's Promises

Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Hope in God’s Promises

And now it is because of my hope in what God has promised our fathers that I am on trial today…
Why should any of you consider it incredible
that God raises the dead?
Acts 26:6,8

Standing before Agrippa, defending himself against the charges of blaspheming God and defaming the temple, Paul used Scripture to turn the tables on his accusers. It was his repeated assertion of the resurrection of Christ that made them livid, causing them to bay for his blood. Some of the Jews (the Sadducees) did not believe in resurrection, but the Pharisees did. They just didn’t want to believe that Christ had been raised.

What do we want to believe? Have we adopted the worldview of fallen humanity, or have we lived according to the story of Scripture? To live by the world’s rules is to discount the possibility of miracle. Dead bodies don’t get resuscitated. Virgins don’t give birth. Men can’t walk on water. Such things are impossible. They simply don’t happen. But when you put God into the equation – everything changes.

To live according to the promises of God is to accept that, because He is God, He can do whatever He wills, as long as it is consistent with His character. We cannot simply discount those promises because they don’t fit in with our worldview. To reject the miraculous is, in the end, to reject God. We can have hope for the future because we trust the One who makes the promises. Hope is grounded in the promises of God, and in the character of the promise-maker who does not change.

Prayer for the Day
Heavenly Father,
forgive us when we follow, too closely,
the wisdom and the ways of the world.
Teach us to see things through the prism of Your Word,
and to trust that what You say, You mean,
and that You will do it.
In the name of Christ we pray. Amen.

Day 3 - Hope and the Spirit

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Hope and the Spirit

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given to us.
Romans 5:5

“Don’t talk of love burning inside,” sings Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady. “Don’t talk of love, show me!” She has a point. Love, in the abstract, may make a fine subject for a romantic song or a Valentine card, but in the real world it has to be grounded in action. Love does not just croon, it also acts. Love gets up at 2:00 am when the baby is crying. Love holds the hand of an alzheimer’s patient whose memory is gone. Love is so much more than words.

Paul knew this, so, when he spoke of the hope that does not disappoint us, he did not give in evidence the abstract love of which theologians sometimes write. Instead, Paul spoke of the active love of God, worked out in our lives through the ministry of the Holy Spirit. This is not the objective love of the cross of Calvary, it is the subjective love of the Christian walk. Our hope for the future is bound up in the present ministry of the Holy Spirit. As we see God at work in His people, through the prompting and enabling of the Spirit, so our hope is renewed. We see, before our eyes, that God can change lives, that love works. No wonder we are encouraged.

The coming of the Holy Spirit is also the fulfillment of Old Testament hope, expressed by the prophets, made real at Pentecost. God had promised that He would “pour out His Spirit on all flesh,” and that “sons and daughters would prophesy” (Joel 2). On the day of Pentecost, when the Spirit fell, that covenant was fulfilled. It continues to be fulfilled in us.

Whenever we live out the precepts of the Gospel; whenever we refuse to conform to the prejudices of this world; whenever we allow the wind of the Spirit to blow through our lives; then we become a source of hope. In the end, though, it’s not our obedience that encourages, it’s God’s faithfulness. He promised the Spirit, and the Spirit has come. Therefore, we live in hope.

Prayer for the Day
Holy Spirit,
wind and fire of God,
fan the weak embers of our love into a flame.
Fill up what is lacking in our devotion to Christ.
Make our lives testimonies to the love that can still transform. In the name of Jesus.
Amen.

Day 2 - Hope in Christ

Child of Hope:
An Advent Devotional

Monday, December 1, 2008
Hope in Christ

If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be more pitied than all men.
I Corinthians 15:19

The Israelites hoped for the coming of the Lord’s Messiah. For centuries they looked forward to an end to the oppression under which they lived, and to the shame of being ruled by foreign powers. They longed for the coming of the One who would set them free, the Advent of the Son of Man, God’s Anointed. They hoped for freedom, for a return to David’s Kingdom, when other princes had brought tribute to Zion. During long, dark years, they lived in hope.

When He came, they didn’t notice Him. They expected a conquering hero mounted on a charger. What they got was a baby. Hope was fulfilled, not on the battlefields of Armaggedon, but in a manger, in Bethlehem. The Messiah, the Christ, came to usher in the Kingdom of God; but it was not a kingdom of this world. His enemies were not the enemies of Israel: the Greeks who corrupted or the Romans who raped the land. His enemies were those attitudes of heart that divided the people from the God who had made them. Christ came to reconcile sinners to a holy God, to bring righteousness where, before, there had been only alienation and despair.

Christ still comes, today. Wherever human hearts grow heavy under the oppression of sin, Christ comes to bring healing. The salvation He offers is not from the sword of Caesar, but from the far more deadly evil that threatens to send us to an eternity without God. One day, at His Second Advent, Christ will reign upon the earth; but that is not our only hope. We may be encouraged today because He has given us a hope that is longer than our years – a hope of heaven, which is our home.

Prayer for the Day
Lord Christ,
You won, for us,
such a victory over sin and death that,
despite the darkness of the hour,
we can always see the sunshine of Your grace.
Give us hope for today, and for a tomorrow that will never end. For Your love’s sake.
Amen.

Day 1 - Hope in God

Child of Hope:
An Advent Devotional.

Child of Hope

To us a Child of hope is born,
To us a Son is giv’n,
Him shall the tribes of earth obey,
Him all the hosts of Heav’n.

His Name shall be the Prince of Peace,
Forevermore adored,
The Wonderful, the Counselor,
The great and mighty Lord.

His pow’r, increasing, still shall spread,
His reign no end shall know,
Justice shall guard His throne above,
And peace abound below.

To us a Child of hope is born,
To us a Son is giv’n,
The Wonderful, the Counselor,
The mighty Lord of Heav’n.

John Morrison

Hoping for the Messiah

For hundreds of years the people of Israel had been waiting for the Messiah, longing for the Anointed One to come. However, their vision was not uniform. Some expected the Messiah to be the Son of David, a leader who would restore the Kingdom of Israel. Others interpreted the prophecies of the Old Testament in terms of spiritual renewal. Most dreamed of military victory over the hated Romans, liberation for a people long-oppressed. Yet, if they could not agree about the details of His coming, all Jews were united in that they looked, with eager expectation, for “the consolation of Israel” to come(Luke 2:25).

Few people would have looked for Him in a manger, in a cattle shed, in Bethlehem. Fewer still would have expected a Savior who would suffer and die for their sins. Blinded by their hopes for a political leader, they overlooked the clear prophecies of a suffering servant (Isaiah 53). They allowed their circumstances to shape their hope. It took Calvary, and an empty tomb, to convince the fledgling Church that the Kingdom of God is not of this world.

Looking back, the early Christians recognized, in the birth of Jesus, the coming of the Child of Hope. May you know that hope in your life – a settled confidence in the person, promises and purposes of God, revealed to us in Jesus Christ.

Alan Trafford Advent 2008

Advent Sunday, November 30, 2008

Hope in God

But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in You.

Psalm 39:7

We hope for many things – for love or security, or for the pain to go away. Often our hope is little more than wishful thinking. The Stock Market craters and as we turn on CNN we say, “Let it not be as bad as yesterday!” Have you ever wondered to whom we are speaking when we make these remarks? Most of the time, we’re not really talking to anyone, we’re not even talking to ourselves, we’re just expressing our dreams. Usually, it’s pretty harmless, even if it does make the cat look at us sideways, as if she is asking, “What do you expect me to do about Wall Street?”

At times, though, our half-uttered requests are more than hot air, they are prayers. Entering the hospital bedroom, our “Let her be better” is more than mere words. Whether we admit it or not, our words are a form of intercession. Which begs a question – “To whom do we pray?” Some people address their prayers to their ancestors, others to various saints, still others to the universe, of which they feel a part.

For the Christian, our prayers are always addressed to God. We may name Him Father, Son, or Holy Spirit, but the intention is the same. The God whom we have met in Scripture and in our experience is the One to whom we turn, almost instinctively. We can say, therefore, that He is the One in whom we place our hope. Like King David, in Psalm 39, searching for help in a hard place, we turn to the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob. We place our trust in the God revealed through His Son, and we ask for the help that only He can give.

Prayer for the Day

Father God,

Source of all wisdom and all joy,

we bow before Your will.

May all of our deepest hopes

be in line with Your Word.

As we begin our journey through Advent,

may we know the assurance of Your pardon

and the comfort of Your peace.

We ask it in the name of Jesus.

Amen.

Advent Devotional

Starting on Sunday, November 30, I'll be posting my daily devotional for the season of Advent entitled "Child of Hope." Actually, it will run through the end of December. I suppose there must be too much hope to squeeze into Advent. You are welcome to use the devotional as you wish, as long as you credit appropriately. I'd appreciate hearing how and where it is used. Hard copies are being distributed for the members and friends of First Presbyterian, Lake Jackson, Texas.

Gods, Temples, and Blood

"Why are we here? (said Camaban). We know that the gods made us, but why? Why do we make things? You make a bow - to kill. You make a pot - to hold things. You make a brooch - to fasten a cloak. So we were made for a purpose, but what was that purpose?" He waited for an answer but neither Haragg nor Saban spoke. "And why are we flawed?" Camaban asked. "Would you make a bow that was weak? Or a pot that was cracked? We were not made flawed! The gods would not have made us flawed any more than a potter would make a bowl that was cracked or a smith would make a knife that was blunt, yet we are sick, we are maimed and we are twisted. The gods made us perfect and, and we are flawed. Why?" He paused before offering the answer: "Because we offended Slaol (the Sun god)."

You don't expect to find a statement of Christian anthropology in a secular novel, least of all in one set in the second millennium BC, but that's exactly what you get in Bernard Cornwell's Stonehenge.

I've read quite a few of Cornwell's novels, particularly from the Sharpe series, dealing with the Napoleonic wars, and the Warlord Chronicles, set in England in the early Middle Ages. I've yet to delve into the Starbuck Chronicles, which tell the story of the American Civil War. An Englishman, now living on Cape Cod, Massachusetts with his American wife, Cornwell is a natural storyteller with a fine eye for detail and a flair for the description of battle. There are very few references to Christianity in his novels. Rifleman Richard Sharpe, for example, seems to have been dragged up without any thought of God. Some of the villains, such as Sergeant Hawkswill, use god-fearing language, but their lives belie their words. It's only in Cornwell's later books (ironically, dealing with Sharpe's early career) that one encounters a sympathetic presentation of devout Scottish Highlanders praying the psalms before marching fearlessly into battle. Sharpe's early mentor in India, though a somewhat dour Presbyterian, is at least a man of great personal integrity. Then, out of the blue, in Stonehenge, we find a passage that is almost Calvinist.



Admittedly Camaban, the sorcerer, who speaks the words I have quoted, turns out to be as crazy as a loon, but that doesn't make his assessment false. Camaban, who was almost offered as a human sacrifice as a child, turns out to be flawed himself. He is not averse to murdering his older brother, or to stealing his younger brother's wife. This merely confirms his own hypothesis. For most of the characters in Stonehenge, life is nasty, brutish, and short.

Yet the search for truth remains. God is not to be found in the the cycle of the seasons, or the phases of the moon, or the progression of the sun. Though a blue-stone be brought from farthest Wales, or a cap-stone be set in place, four times the height of a man, these exertions do not bring Camaban closer to God. The construction of Stonehenge merely symbolizes the spritual quest, the striving for the divine that seems so much a part of the human psyche. Perhaps, in his novels, Cornwell also participates in the quest.

On his website, Cornwell confesses that he was raised, in East Anglia, within a Christian sect known as the Peculiar People, (a phrase taken from I Peter 2:9).

At some point he must have rebelled against their strict and regimented way of life. I have no idea what his religious affiliation is today, if any; but his novels still contain echoes of the homesickness of the soul, which is our longing for God.

Camaban has the wrong solution. A temple will not bring a god to earth, no matter how grand. Neither will the Ruler of the universe be impressed by the shedding of human blood. But his analysis has the ring of truth. We were made for a purpose; but we are flawed. We have offended against God's desire and design. Recognizing, somehow, that we were made to be worshippers, we have raised our monuments to the sky, but they have not reached to heaven.

The genius of Christianity is not just its anthropology, its understanding of the fallen nature of humanity, it is the unique claim that heaven has come to earth. Christ was not drawn down by our blood-offerings, but by our misery; and it is by His sacrifice that we are healed.

Two Observations

First, a brief caveat: I've always tried very hard to be non-partisan in terms of party politics. I've spoken often about issues, but rarely, if ever, about parties. Just to put it in English terms (which is probably safer), in my congregation in Newcastle we had members who were lifelong supporters of all three major political parties. I was very careful never to take sides. Usually, we agreed about the issues, though we would sometimes disagree about how those issues ought to be faced.

I've tried, in the United States, to keep the same position. Apart from anything else, I don't think that, as a guest enjoying the benefits of American democracy, I need to be telling my hosts how to run their country. Nevertheless, and without being partisan, I want to make a couple of observations about the recent elections.


First, I still find it amazing that the election seems to be dominated by the media. Last night, the pundits waited until five seconds after the polls had closed in the West to declare that the electoral votes would be going to Barack Obama, and that, therefore, they could declare him to be the next President of the United States. This is just odd. Presumably, their numbers are taken from exit polls, because there is no way for votes to have been counted so quickly. This, to me, seems to diminish democracy. It certainly doesn't aid it. In another example, we watched as races were announced as being won or lost in Colorado (where we happened to be at the time) when as little as 15% of the precincts had reported their results. I know that people are anxious to know who has won, but wouldn't it be better to wait until every vote has been counted? The television pundits have no business declaring that candidate X has won. Surely that's the responsibility of the electoral authorities.


Second, I found it odd last night that the pundits kept telling us that race had nothing to do with the presidential election. Even a conservative commentator said that this election proves that voters are not particularly interested in the pigmentation of a person's skin. And yet, at the same time, the networks were waxing lyrical about how this was an historic night because an African-American had been elected to the highest office. You can't have it both ways. It seems obvious to me that race certainly did have an effect on the election. The percentage of African-Americans voting for Obama was huge, and seemed to be based far more on the color of his skin than on the content of his policies. In one interview, for a Denver station, some jubilant African-American kids were asked why they had voted for Obama. Most of them replied, instantly, "Because he's a brother, man!" Which raises an interesting point: if it is racist not to vote for someone because of the color of his skin, isn't it equally repugnant to vote for someone because of the color of his skin? It made me wonder, also, whether some white Americans were voting for him out of some kind of collective guilt for the horrors of slavery. Whatever the motivation, it's simply not true to say that race played no part.

Obama's problem now, of course, is that the expectations have been raised so high, he is unlikely to be able to meet everyone's hopes. The economy still is in dire straights, health care still needs to be fixed, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan cannot be solved by waving a magic wand. Will he regret his decision to stand? Will his election turn out to be just as polarizing as was that of his predecessor. Over 44 million Americans did not vote for Obama. Just over 48 million did. The next four years should be interesting. He needs our prayers.

Plato and Moral Philosophy

There's an interesting sentence in Robinson and Groves' book on Plato, which I've been reading. Commenting on Euthypro's confidence that he has behaved morally because he has obeyed religious edicts, Plato asserts that true moral knowledge can only be achieved through philosophical thinking and debate. He has a point, in that people sometimes commit immoral acts in the name of religion (blowing up innocent people comes to mind). By the same token, moral acts can be religiously unorthodox. For example, the actions of the Good Samaritan in Jesus' parable (Luke 10) were obviously moral in that he showed compassion to a man who had been "set upon by thieves" and left for dead. Jesus' point was that ritual cleanliness, which made the priest walk by on the other side of the road, is no substitute for compassion. The moral deed was impious.

Back to Plato: the authors conclusion is "Only when people turn away from the dogmatism and irrationality of religion can true moral philosophy begin."

Now, that may very well be true when the religion you are talking about is that of the ancient Greeks. At the time of Plato, the pantheon was made up of a bunch of immoral, capricious louts who did, basically, whatever they wanted without much regard for moral law. The gods were to be appeased (and avoided), not emulated. It's probably true to say that more sophisticated Greeks took this religion with a very large dose of salt, even if they didn't say so publically. (After all, Socrates was tried and put to death for blasphemy). However, the context of ancient Greek mythology and folk religion is scarcely the same as that of Christianity. There is a consistency to biblical morality that is not found among the broody mob on Mount Olympus. And if there is a development of interpretation in some areas, even this can be put down to the dawning of the light upon the faithful, rather than change in what God calls "good." You simply cannot label all religious moral teaching as equal. You cannot tar all faiths with the same brush. It's irresponsible to do so, it's deliberately misleading, and it's very poor scholarship.

What's the alternative - secular ethics? Morality that is not informed by religious tenets, such as the Ten Commandments, doesn't have a good track record, either. Some of Plato's own ideas about good government, for example, would be considered immoral today, especially his theories about different classes of people being entitled to different degrees of liberty. Some of his ideas sound like Stalinism, and Stalin certainly was not motivated by religion! It's also worth remembering that Plato had time to think philosophically because the society in which he lived required slavery. Plato seemed to think that there was an objective moral good that could only be discovered by philosophy. That idea would be ridiculed by secularists today. Nowadays, ethics are almost always regarded as situational, except by those who have a reference point beyond specific circumstances.

Christians have such a reference point. It's called the Bible. I don't think we need to apologize for believing in moral absolutes. Christianity may, during its history, have been responsible for some shameful acts (though not as many as some would have you believe). Those acts have, however, been committed in violation of revealed moral law, not as a result of the perversion of morality by religious dogmatism.

What if the conclusion was: Only when people turn away from the dogmatism and irrationality of secular humanism can true moral philosophy begin. Wouldn't that, too, be unnecessarily offensive, given that there are many forms of secularism? So why is it acceptable to make sweeping generalisations about religion? Possibly because when you convince yourself that biblical morality is outmoded and untenable, you are left with no morality really worthy of the name, and that is what you wanted all along?

The Road

A man and his son travel a long-abandoned Road to an uncertain destination, in search of a salvation that is, at the same time, both remembered and the object of their desires, both past and future. They journey through a nightmare, apocalyptic landscape, the result of a blinding flash, and half-forgotten low concussions in the night.

Like Christian, in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, the travelers find the road to be rife with danger. Death lurks around every corner, watches from a distance, stalks them like prey. In a time beyond mutual annihilation, where only a few survive, where society has collapsed into anarchy, and where the only sustenance is to be scavenged from the ruins of the past, the man and his son travel a Road that is absolutely without hope.

Cormac McCarthy's The Road is a simple story, at times lyrical, almost poetic in tone, but harsh and graphic in content. McCarthy, searching for foundational truth in a world that increasingly values style over substance, scours the earth and returns to the primal void. Civilization is gone, and with it the restraints that make us able to co-exist. It remains to be seen whether, in this stark vision, anything of value remains.

Never named, the man and his son descend by foot from the mountainous north country, fearing the approaching winter. They follow the remains of the Road, down through the barren countryside where nothing lives, where every memory is painful, and even the snow is ashen. Along the Road they encounter men-become-animals, cannibals who feed upon their own. Death, and the detritus of a civilization destroyed by nuclear war, accompanies their every step. Even the landscape is devoid of life. Nothing grows. The shore of the sullen, brooding sea is lined with the bones of a million fish. The earth is dead. Those who, somehow escaped the holocaust shall surely not survive. God is not in His heaven; all is not right with the world.


Towards the end of this grim tale a nameless woman embraces the boy. She talks to him of God. Yet when the boy tries to talk to God, he finds himself speaking to his father, now dead. The woman tells him that God cannot be dead because their breath is the breath of God. But on a Road without hope, where every painful breath spreads a mist of blood, can one really speak of God?

On the Road the man and his son, "each the others world entire," are sustained by love. That is a noble vision, but it is not enough. There is no grand narrative behind the tale. There is no destination towards which the Road leads. It leads nowhere. Time and truth have lost all meaning. Philosophy and theology, always uneasy bedfellows, lie together, abandoned in a ruined library. Nothing is of value that cannot be eaten. Man has descended to his most basic instincts - food, shelter, fire. Woman has taken her own life in despair. Survival trumps civilization. Godless and friendless, without a future worth striving to attain, the last human beings slouch, angry yet resigned, towards oblivion.

Meanwhile, in a much older story, Christian travels a road that has a destination, an End.

Christian knows where he began, and why he became a pilgrim, and he trusts that the path he takes will lead him home. At his destination, having endured trials and temptations along the way, and having escaped from perils that threatened to destroy him, Christian finds the peace for which he longed - the blessing of peace with God. For him, the pilgrimage of the Christian life is a journey with purpose, and every step is filled with hope.


Both stories assess the human condition. Both find value in sacrificial love. But one story ends with shattered lungs and a dirty blanket as a shroud; the other story finds meaning in an empty cross and a risen Savior. Christ, the goal of all our journeying, is the embodiment of our hope. In a world grown gray, devoid of meaning, He is The Road: the Way, the Truth, the Life.

A Song from "The Pilgrim's Progress"

"Confessed that they were strangers
and pilgrims on the earth."
~ Hebrews 11:13 ~

ho would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather.
There's no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent,
To be a pilgrim.


Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He'll with a giant fight,
But he will have a right
To be a pilgrim.


Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend,
Can daunt his spirit:
He knows, he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He'll fear not what men say,
He'll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.

John Bunyan

Transparency and Greed

I've been following a developing argument between the English Football Association, which oversees all aspects of the national game, and the Premier League, which administers the breakaway league of the top twenty clubs. Until about 20 years ago English football ('soccer' to the colonials) had four divisions with one governing body - the Football League. Then, the wealthiest clubs decided to form a league of their own, in which they would be able to negotiate television revenue separately from the lower leagues. There would still be relegation from the Premiership to the old second division (now called the 'Championship'), and successful lower teams could still win promotion to the higher eschelons.

In some respects the Premier League has been a run away success. It is now the most successful league in the world: its attendance figures have increased; its income has sky-rocketted; games are now shown around the world; players from every continent dream of playing for one of the top teams, earning more in a week than most people do in a year.

From my perspective, the Premier League has allowed the development of the team I have supported since I was a child. Growing up, I would go to watch Blackburn Rovers, along with five or six thousand other hardy souls.

The club had a storied past, having been founder members of the Football League in 1875. They had won many trophies, but not for years. The league title had not been theirs since before the First World War; the FA Cup had not been decked in Blackburn's blue and white since 1928. Then, Jack Walker, a retired businessman from Blackburn who had sold his metal company to British Steel for a bucketful of money, decided to invest in his hometown team. Almost overnight, quality players and coaches began to appear. The ground was updated. It was no longer possible, for example, to watch the rats playing underneath the stands (this had been a welcome diversion when the standard of football was dire). The team began to win. They won promotion to the inaugural season of the Premier League. Three years later they were champions. It was almost beyond belief. And if, since then, their fortunes have wavered a little, their accomplishments have still far out-stripped the wildest dreams of a North country boy, following his local team.

However, there is a downside to the Premier League. It has come to be dominated by four teams , leaving the other sixteen to battle for lesser honors. Money is now the driving force. Most teams are owned by foreign investors. Some of them are fabulously wealthy. Chelsea are owner by a Russian billionaire; two Americans own Liverpool; Manchester United is owned by the Glazer family, which also owns the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Manchester City was, until very recently, the property of the former Prime Minister of Thailand, Thaksin Shinawatra, until, facing corruption charges, he skipped bail in his native country and his assets were frozen. The club was on the brink of insolvency until a group of arabs from Dubai came in and began throwing money around like there was no tomorrow. Blackburn is one of the few clubs still owned by a family trust. Their indebtedness is tiny compared to the likes of Manchester United, which owes over $1,300 million. As a whole, the Premier League clubs owe about $6 billion. Some have borrowed against future television income in order to pay their huge wage bills.

Just this week, FA chairman Lord Triesman expressed his concerns about the situation. The current global economic climate poses "a terrible danger." "Transparency lies in an unmarked grave," said Lord Triesman, somewhat poetically. Apparently, three clubs have been contacted by their banks about the level of their debt. One team, West Ham United, is preparing to sell players. It is owned by an Icelandic businessman who is linked to the banks in that country which have recently failed. No wonder there is concern for the future. The most popular league in the most popular sport in the world is being run by outsiders who seem to be concerned about profit and not much else. Some have poured millions into their adopted teams; others are holding the purse-strings tightly, causing friction in boardrooms and a lack of confidence on the pitch.

FIFA president Sepp Blatter said, recently, that buying a football club has become as easy as buying a replica shirt. Teams have become investments for the fabulously rich. But when they lose interest, or when their losses become unmanageable, they simply walk away. "More and more clubs are in trouble," said Lord Triesman, "with a number of owners leaving abruptly." Famous teams are in danger of folding because of the greed of players, agents, clubs, and owners.

Without mentioning any names, Lord Triesman said that the Premier League's fit and proper persons test needed an urgent review. What he meant was that some of those who are buying clubs would be more suited to racketeering out of a back-street billiard hall. "If there is a prima facie case of someone's human rights record being regarded internationally as being very serious, it's reasonable to question whether that person should be running a football club," he said. "Nobody has real confidence in what they cannot see."

Apart from mixing metaphors (how can one see what is supposed to be transparent?) Triesman has a point. Greed and corruption at the highest level are in danger of destroying "the beautiful game." If the financial crisis worsens, as well it might, it is difficult to see how some of the clubs can survive, at least in their current form." Talks of a salary cap are too little, too late.

Lessons from a Christian perspective? I suppose there are two. First, there is a reason why greed is regarded as one of the deadliest of sins. It destroys. Football players are not worth $200 million; neither should they be paid $200,000 per week (admittedly, these numbers apply only to the very best). When stadiums are populated by blue-collar workers who are lucky to to earning the equivalent of $60,000 per year, the amount of money being paid to prima-donnas kicking footballs is obscene. And those who have bought their way into the business are often no better. Seeking to capitalize on the worldwide marketability of a team like Manchester United, while running up mind-boggling debt is sheer lunacy. It will end in tears.

I have to say also, though, that Lord Triesman is profoundly wrong in one respect. It is not true that "nobody has real confidence in what they cannot see." Frankly, I have a lot more confidence in a God who keeps His promises, than in slippery characters who say one thing and mean another. After all, isn't faith "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1)?

As the current financial crisis deepens we need to make sure that our confidence is in things that will last forever - like the promises of our covenant God.

The Smell of Sawdust

I'm coming to appreciate the helpful and urbane writings of Richard Mouw, President of Fuller Seminary. I met Richard Mouw at the General Assembly in 2006. Since then I've read several of his books. Last week I picked up "The Smell of Sawdust," which bears the subtitle 'What Evangelicals Can Learn from Their Fundamentalist Heritage.' This well-written little book, with many autobiographical details, pays tribute to the Fundamentalism in which Mouw was raised.
During the Fundamentalist/Modernist controversy of the early decades of the twentieth century, those who held to a traditional, orthodox form of Protestant Christianity rallied around five fundamentals:
- the Virgin Birth of Jesus;
- His full divinity;
- the blood sacrifice of His atoning work;
- the bodily resurrection of Jesus;
- the hope of His Second Coming.
As a Reformed evangelical, Mouw holds firmly to these beliefs. He also looks back, wistfully, to the pietism that produced such intense personal devotion. He remembers, with affection, the smell of the sawdust trail, the excitement of the tent meeting where evangelists preached, with absolute conviction, for decisions for Christ. Mouw also acknowledges the fairness of some of the criticisms commonly leveled against revivalist Fundamentalism - that it was anti-intellectual, otherworldly, and separatistic in spirit. Nevertheless, Mouw also asserts the value of a call to personal conviction. If Fundamentalism laid too much emphasis upon the self and not enough upon social responsibility, too much upon emotion and not enough upon the intellect, then at least some Christians today are guilty of exactly the opposite.
Mouw wends his way through many of the subjects on which traditional Fundamentalists and Fuller-type evangelicals tend to disagree. He deals with Roman Catholicism, Dispensationalism, Evangelism, Israel, and political involvement. For almost all, Mouw has both a telling anecdote and a quotation from a hymn. He has a very relaxed, non-threatening, engaging style. He could be passing the time of day with you, perhaps sitting in a rocker on a porch, cradling a cup of coffee. He does his level best to present every position in the best possible light, even when he disagrees. He tries to understand why Christians disagree. For example, the chapter on Catholicism explains the tension between an emphasis upon conversion and an emphasis upon the enduring community of the church. Mouw's irenic spirit certainly gives an excellent illustration of how we may enter into respectful, constructive dialog with those with whom we disagree. He is not threatened by argument; neither is he ashamed of the convictions that are dear to him.
Towards the end of the book, Mouw admits that what he really longs for, in his recollection of his Fundamentalist upbringing, is the recovery of a second naivete. He is not interested in attempting to recover the first naivete, which is ignorant of the questions. Rather, he wants to develop a second naivete - a simple faith that sees, beyond the questions, an uncomplicated relationship with the God who calls us to be His own. This faith is not afraid to stand up to Bill Maher's anti-religious ranting and to answer, not with the cultic obscurantism of Fundamentalism, or the thinly-veiled nihilism of Protestant liberalism, but with confidence in the revelation of God in Jesus Christ.
Richard Mouw is a Presbyterian. His book reminds me of the urgent task that Presbyterian evangelicals must embrace. It is our responsibility to state and reclaim the essential tenets that lie at the heart of the Reformed faith, not in order that we might slip back into Billy Sunday Fundamentalism, but so that we might be able to express, in clear and compelling ways, those simple yet profound truths that make us who we are.

We Don't Like Ike

Power is finally back on at the church after 10 days without, following our assignation with a certain Ike, as in 'Hurricane Ike.'

Not too much damage, compared to others, but the carpet got wet in the sanctuary, and some of it will have to come up. Lots of trees down also, and damage to shingles. At least we didn't get a nine foot surge, unlike the people in Galveston. We can put up with a little wind.

It did, however, take two and a half days of solid work to clear our yard. Lake Jackson still looks like a war zone, and many people are still without electricity. Some don't have water either. makes you appreciate what you do have, or at least it should.

Belief and Behavior

I had a conversation in a hallway at the Presbytery meeting at Grand Lakes Presbyterian, last Saturday. An acquaintance of some years, no longer in our area, buttonholed me to let me know that he'd come to a decision. He'd come to believe that it is possible for a person to hold two beliefs at the same time: that Jesus Christ is Lord; and, that same-sex relations are not outside God's plan for His people. He went on to tell me that the main reason for his coming to this conclusion was that he had been visiting a number of churches, that he had found conservative congregations to be unwelcoming, and that he had seen the work of Christ being done in more progressive congregations. In particular, he had been impressed by work being done with the homeless in one very liberal congregation. He wasn't being argumentative, he just wanted to let me know that he had had a change of opinion. In the few minutes that were available I tried to sketch out a reply. If I'd had longer (and hadn't had bronchitis) I'd have elaborated in the following ways.

First, there is no a priori reason why you can't hold those two beliefs at the same time. Many do. They are not, in and of themselves mutually exclusive. However, when you take the implications of the first belief seriously, then it becomes much more difficult to hold the second.

Acceptance of the lordship of Christ is not simply intellectual assent, as if it could be given in a vacuum. My belief in the lordship of Christ is not the same as my belief that gravity exists on Mars. An acknowledgement of Christ's lordship (when it is personalized) has very clear implications regarding the way in which I live my life. Right belief (orthodoxy) is closely related to right behavior (orthopraxy). There are, as far as I am aware, no moral implications resulting from a belief in gravity on Mars; but there obviously are implications for my life if I accept that Jesus Christ is my Lord. I can accept that lordship and continue in behaviors that do not honor Him, but that does not make the behaviors right or acceptable, it simply makes me disobedient.

Second, what is really at stake is the question of how I know what God expects of me. That is, how do I know the moral requirements that are mine when once I acknowledge the lordship of Christ. It's a question of epistemology - how do I know what I know? For Christians, the answer must always include God's self-revelation, interpreted by the Holy Spirit, which we know as the Bible. We give content to the notion of Christ's lordship as we understand it within the context of salvation history as revealed in Scripture. Traditionally, Presbyterians have said that the Bible is without error in all matters pertaining to faith and life. That is, when the Bible tells us that God is love, for example, it is impossible for that affirmation to be false. God has not given us a faulty revelation. The Bible is to be trusted. Therefore, we should trust that the Bible gives us reliable information, not only about the nature and character of God, but also about the way in which He wants us to live our lives. To take a non-controversial example, when the Bible says that the Lord requires of us that we should do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8), then it is not possible for the Bible to be in error. God has revealed what He wants from us.

So why do we question revelation with regard to same-sex behavior? Despite the verbal and hermeneutical gymnastics of some commentators, the Bible is actually pretty clear (see I Corinthians 6:9-11, for example). It seems to me that the difference is that with regard to justice, the Bible agrees with popular culture, whereas with regard to homosexuality, it does not. The over-riding motivation, therefore, seems to be less about compliance with Scriptural norms, and more about accommodation to societal mores.

Third, it's dangerous to take human experience as the determinant of truth. It's surely regrettable that my friend's experience of conservative congregations should have been that they are more judgmental and less welcoming. Nevertheless, experience alone should not lead to the conclusion that one is right (progressive/liberal) and that one is wrong (conservative/evangelical). I firmly believe that we have a responsibility to welcome all people into the local church, we should be radically inclusive (to steal a descriptor that has been purloined by liberalism); but it is not our business to then accommodate biblical truth in order to fit cultural expectations. In fact that is not the loving thing to do. Love does not wink at error, it confronts it. No, for us, experience is always secondary. Our primary source for making sense of God's way with the world is always revelation. If we move our feet from that rock, we end up putting our trust in a foundation of shifting sand.

The Beijing Olympics

Pet peeve, but you'll have to forgive me...

This is how the American press has been reporting the medals table from Beijing.

2008 Medals

Country Gold Silver Bronze Total
USA 36 38 36 110
China 51 21 28 100
Russia 23 21 28 72
G. Britain 19 13 15 47
Australia 14 15 17 46

Germany 16 10 15 41

This is how the rest of the world has been reporting the medals table from Beijing.

2008 Medals

At-a-glance medals table Sunday, 24 August 2008
Rank Country Gold Silver Bronze TOTAL
1 China 51 21 28 100
2 USA 36 38 36 110
3 Russia 23 21 28 72
4 G.Britain 19 13 15 47
5 Germany 16 10 15 41
6 Australia 14 15 17 46

Now, don't misunderstand me, I love the "can-do" attitude that still predominates in the US, that's one of the reasons we're here. It's certainly much better than the constant whining that predominates in certain parts of old Europe. I think it's great that Michael Phelps can get 8 gold medals (and even better that he can eat three fried egg sandwiches for breakfast, with extra mayo, and still be a phenomenal athlete).

However, you don't always need to be first at everything. It's alright to compete (as a nation) and come second. You don't have to fiddle the numbers to make it look like you came out on top.

I thought it was competing that mattered, and doing your best.

For a better perspective you might like to read about the Icelandic Handball Team, and others who came, and competed, and lost, but had a great time.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/olympics/2008/08/world_view_of_beijing.html

OK, peeve over.

Paradise

Last night, on PBS, Michael Wood, the historian, had an interesting programme in his series on myths and heroes, in which he explored the story of Shangri-La.

In its modern form, the tale of Shangri-La is not very old. James Hilton captured the imagination of a war-weary world in his novel Lost Horizon, which told the story of Westerners rescued from a war-zone by 'plane, who subsequently crash landed in a remote area of Tibet, near Mount Kailash. There, they found what everyone craves - a place of perfect harmony and peace.

They had discovered a lost valley untouched by the struggles of the world, truly a paradise. The story was made into a movie in 1933. It had a wide appeal, probably as a means of escape from the privations of the Great Depression, and the bombast and rhetoric of a certain Adolf Hitler.

The story, like the lost valley of Shangri-La, is fictional. However, it seems to have been based upon a much older story told by one Antonio Andrade, a 16th century missionary at the court of the Moghul emperor Akbar. This ruler had gathered representatives of all of the major religions, because he believed "that it cannot be right to assert the truth of one faith above any other...." Andrade set out in search of a Christian community rumoured to exist in a remote area of Tibet. Eventually, after much searching, he found the hidden valley, and the kingdom of which he had heard. But there were no Christians there. Andrade's account was lost for many years only to be rediscovered in Calcutta in the late 19th century. Its publication led to Lost Horizon.

Andrade may well have heard the story of a lost kingdom at Akbar's surprisingly post-modern inter-faith conference. The Buddhists told a tale of a wonderful place called Shambala, (Sanskrit for 'peace') in the land beyond the Himalayas, a magical land of harmony and peace, ruled over by the wise, a land of plenty, in the shadow of a magnificent mountain.

Wood may well have identified the source of these legends in a Tibetan mountain-top community which he explored in his television program. Interestingly, the once fertile valley is now barren; the fortress that once protected the King and his family has been destroyed; the revered Buddhist shrines have fallen victim to the excesses of the Cultural Revolution. If it is Shangri-La, it is no paradise.

Wood's comment, right at the end of the program was telling: "Of course, paradise may still be found anywhere on earth, but only on earth."

What are we to make of this?

In typical PBS fashion, the cultured commentator makes approving noises when recounting Akbar's search for the Golden Bough that underlies all religious experience. He then goes on to assert, as an article of blind faith, that paradise is only to be found on earth. Given that he has just been exploring the remains of a beautiful kingdom, destroyed by the avarice of men, his conclusion is a little surprising. One would have thought that he would have denied the possibility of paradise on earth, while acknowledging that, for most major religions, that hope is transferred to heaven.

So, what did Jesus mean when he told the dying thief, suffering beside Him on his cross, that, "Today, you will be with me in paradise"? (Luke 23:43) Surely, this: That beyond the grave, for those who trust in Him, there will be be a place where we shall enter into the presence of God. It will be a place of beauty and of peace. For the Christian, the yearning for paradise is not for a specific location on earth, but for the City of God, where Christ shall reign (Revelation 22:2). The word 'paradise' is Persian. It means 'garden' or 'park.' According to the Bible, paradise was lost in a garden.

It will be regained, not on a mountain in Tibet, but when we see our Savior face to face.

Sign of the Times

Lesley and I went to Houston yesterday, to pick up floral supplies, which was terribly exciting. Then we stopped at "British Isles" in Rice Village, which is a haven for ex-pats. It's rather expensive, but fun. The front of the store has a lot of English porcelain and fancy giftware. (Next time you need a small statue of Admiral Nelson for $225 you will know where to go). The back of the store is full of good things to eat that you can't buy at Krogers.

One thing caught my eye. Like everywhere else, the store sells magnetic signs to put on your refrigerator - mostly London Underground signs or Union Jacks. They also had a section of poetry, including this "blessing."

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

And the rain fall soft upon your fields.

Notice anything strange about it? The last two lines are missing.

And, until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Apparently, the makers were so afraid of offending anyone, that they removed all mention of God. But, it offended me...

Actually, I think we should use this version:

May the road rise up to greet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

And may you be half an hour in heaven

Before the devil knows you're gone.

All Quiet on the Western Front

When I was growing up, in Blackburn, in the North West of England, I knew a man named Tommy. I have no idea whether or not it was his real name, but that's what everyone called him. Most days, when my mother sent me to the grocery store that neighbors operated out of their front room, I would pass Tommy's terraced house. Unless the weather was poor, (which, to be honest it often was), he would be sitting on a stool by his front door, smoking Woodbines, quite prepared to pass the time of day with anyone who happened by. Of course we became friends. There is a natural affinity between the elderly and the young - there are simple pleasures to be shared, like a bag of pear drops; the concerns of the world may be blissfully ignored when you are 7 or 77. Not that I had any idea how old he was. To me, Tommy was just old. He always had a smile and a happy wave. He was harmless. He was also a trained killer.


Tommy had served in the fiasco that was Gallipoli. He had a pith helmet with a bullet hole in it to prove his story. After more than fifty years he was still angry at the stupidity of the commanders who would not let their troops take the high ground in safety, instead pitching camp at the foot of cliffs, allowing Turkish troops to occupy the positions that would lead to the debacle. Tommy had also served on the Western Front. It was there that he had succumbed to shell-shock, the paralysis of the will caused by being subjected for too long to the horror and noise of battle. Since demobilization, in 1919, Tommy had not been able to do anything but the most menial of jobs. In retirement, drawing a meager pension, he spent his days smoking, and talking his time away.
I thought of Tommy as I read, recently, Malcolm Brown's Imperial War Museum Book of the Western Front.
This is a different type of account of the 'war to end all wars', quite unlike the dry dispatches of the official historians. Instead of pretending to view the events of those four fateful years from some dispassionate position, high above the fields of battle, Brown's book uses first hand, contemporary accounts to paint a very different picture. The book is written in a series of short chapters, each chapter concentrating upon some aspect of the experience of the common soldier. It is liberally illustrated with extracts from letters and diaries. Many of those quoted did not survive the war. Here are a few of the things that caught my attention:
- The humanity of the ordinary man. Unlike the modern, fictional hero, who is applauded for his ability to 'take out' the enemy, Tommy Atkins (the nickname for all British soldiers at that time) was a decent chap who did not kill unless he had to.
- In order to win, therefore, most killing had to be done at a distance. Thousands did die in suicidal rushes across no-man's land, but many more were killed by the use of heavy artillery. Indeed, many soldiers remarked that it would have been easier to have fought face to face, instead of wondering whether the next screaming shell "has my name on it."
- Since combatants could do nothing to prevent their deaths at the hands of artillery fire, a fierce fatalism developed during the war years, which had more in common with Islam than with Christianity. It seemed, to those who hunkered down in the trenches of Ypres or the Somme, that either God slept or He was unconcerned by their fate. In the end, the tenets of historic Christianity were sacrificed in the interests of survival. Sociologists have often noted that the decline of the church in the West can be traced to the First World War. It did not help that political jingoism was trumpeted from the pulpits of both Britain and Germany. Every German infantryman bore, on his belt buckle, the words Gott mit uns. This did not prevent his superiors from turning loose poisoned gas upon the cream of England's youth. Ironically, the belt buckle became, in the mind of Tommy Atkins, just another proof that his enemies were just "Huns," less than human.
- At the same time, the stories recorded in the book speak of an incredible heroism, and of a dedication to King and country that has largely dissipated today. Nationalism may have a great deal to answer for, and patriotism may, as Johnson said, be the last refuge of scoundrels, but it is better than the cringing anarchy of today, where no good thing is immune from carping cynicism. Despite the disillusionment that developed towards the end of the war, hardly surprising considering the huge losses, there is still something noble about Tommy Atkins. He may be a little rough around the edges, overly fond of hard drink, but he is also a gentleman. There's one telling story about a group of weary, grimy soldiers given a brief respite from the Front, for whom a troupe of visiting entertainers put on a show. One of the artistes was a beautiful young woman who sang for the soldiers. Between songs she teased them with racy comments (doubtless incredibly mild by today's standards). The men were simply embarrassed. They spent their days and nights killing or being killed, but when a young woman sang to them, they remembered their mothers and their wives.
- One final thing. The war was almost lost to the Allies in late 1917 when a German offensive pushed them back from the positions they had held for over three years. If the Germans had reached the coast they would have split the Allies, and probably outflanked them. Axis forces could have strutted down the boulevards of Paris, or maybe even the avenues of London. But the retreating armies did not break, though they bent. Soon, reinforced by the doughboys from over the water, they were able to turn the tide. In reaching too far the German offensive stalled. Before they could dig in, and trench warfare recommence, the Allies counterattacked. A war that had looked lost in March was over by November. Here's the startling fact - many of the soldiers who pushed back the Kaiser's troops were still in their teens. Barely old enough to vote, or to drink, they were old enough to kill.


Anyone who seeks to glorify unnecessary warfare should read this book; anyone who seeks to demonize those who fight should also read it. Wars are not really fought by generals, but by eighteen year old boys, like Tommy.