"The Book "Under God's Umbrella"- Thoughts on Chapter 3, p.28- Another Glimpse of God

Discovering God in Nature...  

It is for me a profound thing that God has ordered the universe such that the cognitive minds He created can explore the intricacies of His handiwork. Dr. Stephen Meyer's book that I reference on page 28 says this about Sir Isaac Newton: "Not only did he [Newton] extol the order and uniformity of nature as a reflection of God's character and superintending care of creation; he argued for the existence of God based on the design evident in nature- in short, for a “God Hypothesis."(1) 

Newton wrote, “Gravity explains the motions of the planets, but it cannot explain who sets the planets in motion.”  Modern molecular biologists explain how the propagation of life depends on the intricate coding found in DNA but stops short of explaining where such a coding can come from."

Nature reveals the reality, character, and attributes of God.   I know this instinctively but also enjoy having it reenforced with the science of such scientist as Meyer, Davies and Polkinghorne.  John Polkinghorne, Cambridge physicist, provided some of my favorite reading.  I am attracted to Dr. Polkinghorne not just because of how his physics developed my understanding of God in nature, but also because he is an Anglican Priest as I am.

(1) Return of the God Hypothesis: Three Scientific Discoveries that Reveal the Mind behind the Universe, HarperCollins Publishers, New York, 2021

"Under God's Umbrella"- Thoughts on Chapter 7- Shining Rock Wilderness

 

In chapter 7 of this book, I share about my family's life together while living in Indian Land, SC.  A great joy of the Indian Land years for both Nancy and me was raising up Robin and Jimmy to become the fine young men that they are today.  A large component of that joy for me were the many hiking, camping, and backpacking adventures I went on with the two boys.  A place called Shining Rock Wilderness became iconic of our times in the backwoods.  

Shining Rock Wilderness is part of Pisgah National Forest in the Great Smoky Mountains just northwest of the Blueridge Parkway which was easily accessible from our home near Charlotte.  When Robin and Jimmy were young boys, I would take them backpacking with me, and before I knew it, they were young men taking me backpacking with them.  These were great outings and great memories.

Robin took his first backpacking trip into Shining Rock Wilderness when he was first big enough to strap on a backpack.  Jimmy followed suit.  The thing about our venturing into Shining Rock Wilderness, however, was that we seemed to have a propensity for getting lost.  It didn’t mean we couldn’t eventually find our way to where we were wanting to go, but it could mean that a three-hour hike would turn into half-day hike to get to our planned campsite. 

Nancy’s brother Jim and I took Robin on his first backpacking trip to Shing Rock, and, yes, we got lost.  We followed one stream thinking it was a different stream.  We camped alongside the stream that night in a delightful spot but knowing that we weren’t at all where we wanted to be.   The next morning was a Sunday.  We climbed out onto the rocks in the middle of the stream, the air crisp and the sun bright, and we sat on those rocks, read scripture and said prayers to honor the Lord on the Lord’s Day.  I told Robin he could pick the scripture if he wanted to, and without much hesitation he picked John1.  I was a bit stunned at that, and at the appropriateness of the reading.  

We continued upstream that day and climbed a waterfall to get to our planned campsite for next night.  It was a greater adventure than if we had not gotten lost.

Once while backpacking in Shining Rock, Jimmy picked up an attractive looking rock. He was still young enough to believe some of my nonsense, so I told him that was no ordinary rock, it was an ancient Indian throwing stone.  Jimmy collected many rocks in his backpack that day until we had to stop and encourage him to lighten his load.  Thinking back, I realize that neither boy thought my Indian throwing stone thing was very funny.

A close friend, Bill Goodwin, has two boys matching the ages of Robin and Jimmy, and we would often go hiking, camping, and backpacking with together.  Bill and I loved cooking big campfire breakfasts, and one of the boys could easily end up with a cast iron skillet strapped to his backpack.  

Alex, Tommy, Rob and Jimmy are best friend to this day and Godfathers to each other’s children. 

 

"Under God's Umbrella"- Thoughts on Chapter 10- A Tribute to Thomas Weeks

One of my favorite memories of my time as vicar of Saint John's, Clearwater, SC was my friendship with a homeless man named Thomas Weeks.  We spent a great deal of time together, and despite his particular neurosis, he was quite enjoyable.  He would often meet me at the church first thing in the morning having walked down from wherever he had stayed that night. I would find him sitting in our memorial garden waiting for me.  He would tell me that Saint Francis (a statue in the garden) and he had developed quite a good relationship, and he enjoyed spending time with him.  Thomas would hang around the church and perhaps do an odd job or two until I was ready to go out to do some visiting. He would stay in the car while I visited, but seemed to enjoy simply riding with me.  

Thomas would tell jokes and stories and was quite an entertaining man.  He would say that it was his job to get my "dolphins" going (referring endorphins) by making me laugh.  He considered me far too serious. 

Thomas was in his early seventies when I met him.  One couldn't talk to Thomas long before he would go into the story of his mother giving him up for adoption at age seven and the trauma of growing up in an Catholic orphanage.  A spirit of rejection and abandonment had prevented him from functioning normally and consistently throughout his life.  It kept Thomas homeless and alone.  

Thomas would not give people a chance to abandon him by abandoning them first. His all-to-familiar pattern was to buy a bus ticket, once he got his monthly check from DSS, and would take off.  Thomas rode up or down the eastern seaboard from Miami to Philadelphia, until he would run out of money.  I received many calls from emergency rooms telling me that Thomas was there suffering from dehydration, low potassium, anemia, or the such.  Someone would usually buy him a bus ticket back to North Augusta.  I called him the last of the great hobos.

During the time I knew Thomas, North Augusta and Horse Creek Valley were home for him, at least as close to a home as he had.    I insisted that he was getting too old to be on the road but expressing too much care and concern just played into his neurosis.  Nancy and I invited Thomas to live with us, which he did for a while.  From time to time his wanderlust would set in, and he would be gone.  He would always come back, until one day, he didn't.

Thomas always sat in the same chair in our den, the chair I now regularly use these days.  He would watch TV for hours and would habitually swing his feet as he watched TV.  His cheap rubber-soled shoes left marks on the carpet at the foot of that chair.  Eventually, Nancy was able to get the marks out of the carpet, but in a way, I hated to see the marks go.

Thomas was staying with us during Christmas of 2008.  We had our extended family with us for the holiday.  They brought presents for Thomas just like they did for everyone else, and Thomas had his place at our Christmas dinner table between all the cousins.  I suspected this was too much for Thomas, and sure enough, the next day, I looked out the front window and saw him catching a ride with a workman that had done some repairs on our house.  The workman later told me gave him a ride to the bus station, which I had suspected was the case.   That was the last I saw of Thomas, and sadly, I stopped getting calls from emergency rooms up and down the eastern seaboard.  I loved that old hobo.

The un-banning of Dr. Jorden B Peterson from Twitter

 Dr. Peterson's ban from Twitter was not known to me until the fracas began over Elon Musk's move to un-ban him.  I am not a very active contributor or consumer on social media platforms, and I do not know the specifics of the original ban, but I am nonetheless dismayed that the ban happened. The reason for my astonishment is that Peterson's thoughts and opinions are based on principles and facts about life and culture that he articulates extraordinarily accurately and well.  Although his conclusions, from all I have read of his work, tend to land in the conservative sphere of thinking, I have not detected anything overtly political, malicious, or defaming.  I assume, therefore, that he was banned simply because of his conservative conclusions.  In American, this is an anathema, and Musk is correct in reversing this travesty. I am horrified that large corporations such a Twitter have such power and dare to wield it.

Veterans Day 2022- A Tribute to Lieutenant Colonel Peyton C. Hartley

 

Peyton Hartley fought in WWII as part of the 82nd Airborne Division, 504 Infantry Regiment.  He fought in Italy, [1] Holland, the Battle of the Bulge in Belgum, and entered Germany with his regiment in 1945.  The 82nd Airbourne participated in the famous and harrowing crossing of the Waal River, Holland as part of Operation Market Garden [2] and the bloody battle to block the German General Joachim Peiper from pushing out of the north side of the pocket in the Battle of the Bulge.  By the end of the battle that stopped Kamphegruppe (Battle Group) Peiper, my father was in command of his company as only officer to have survived [3].  He was awarded two Purple Hearts.

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[1] Frank van Lunteren, Spearhead of the Fifth Army: The 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment in Italy, from the Winter Line to Anzio, Casemate Publishers, 2016.

[2] Frank van Lunteren, The Battle of the Bridges: The 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment in Operation Market Garden, Casemate Publishers, 2014.

[3] Frank van Lunteren, Blocking Kampfgruppe Peiper: The 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment in the Battle of the Bulge, Casemate Publishers, 2015. 

Riding the North Augusta Greeneway

Bicycle riding brings me great enjoyment, and the North Augusta Greenway is a big part of the reason. The North Augusta Greeneway (spelled with the extra e because it’s named after a former city mayor by that name) is a beautiful place to exercise. It’s a railroad bed converted to a walking and biking trail that runs down off the Piedmont of upper South Carolina, through the city of North Augusta, down into the Savannah River valley. My 10.5-mile routine, a few times a week, never gets old. I particularly enjoy the Greeneway in the summer at first light.  It gives me time with the Lord as I ride and time for me to enjoy His beautiful creation.  On my early morning rides, I encounter plenty of deer, particularly down along the Savannah River

One thing I’m intentional about on the Greeneway is greeting the people I pass.  At my age, I’m not riding so fast that I don’t have time to speak, and it’s a good Southern tradition with which I grew up.  Besides, one never knows if you are passing a person who could use a friendly greeting.  

Admittedly, only a retired person with plenty of time to think about such things would do this, but I calculated how many people I’ve greeted over my nineteen years of bicycling on the North Augusta Greeneway.  I figure I have greeted about fifty-five thousand people, plus or minus 4 percent. This is almost twice the current population of North Augusta. [here's the math:  Nineteen years × two, 10.5 rides per week (average) × fifty-two weeks × twenty-eight people per ride (an average, not counting babies in strollers) = 55,328 people]

Not everyone responds to my greeting, which, of course, is OK; after all, most are there just to exercise and perhaps find a bit of quiet in their busy day.  Some, however, beam and flash big smiles, offering a return greeting. By contrast, others simply ignore me altogether.   

Everybody I pass seems to be somewhere on this continuum of friendly smiles and returned greeting, to irritated, ignoring looks.  This is my personal and subjective observation spanning 19 years on the Greeneway, but older black women tend to be on the smiling and friendly end of the spectrum.  Other bicyclicers, particularly younger, serious exercisers, tend to ignore the intrusion.  Women are generally on more friendly end of the scale, except, perhaps, younger women who have probably been taught not to speak to strangers.  Older men are friendlier than young men, although I don't know what the younger men's excuses might be.   

A Pilgrimage through Holy Week

 Holy Week, the final week of Lent, is our journey to the Cross with Jesus.  Holy Week allows us to participate in the unfolding drama of our Redemption and New Life brought to us in Christ.  The journey is marked with special days of devotion and fasting that point us forward to the great Resurrection celebration on Easter Sunday.  Our Holy Week journey begins on Palm Sunday.

 Palm Sunday

Through our liturgy, we join the crowd celebrating Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem, waving our palm branches and crying, “Hosanna!”  But quickly the celebratory atmosphere changes as we, along with the crowd, turn against Jesus and reject Him because we realize He is not the Messiah we are wanting or expecting.  The service goes on to prepare us for what lies ahead on Good Friday by our first recitation for the week of The Passion, the “Old, Old Story” of the suffering and crucifixion of Jesus read from one of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark or Luke).

 Scripture records that Jesus went on from the Triumphal Entry on Palm Sunday to spend the early days of Holy Week teaching in the Temple.  His teachings fuel the growing enmity between Him and the religious authorities who secretly plot ways to eliminate this itinerant rabbi.

 Maundy Thursday

This is Jesus’ last evening before His arrest and crucifixion.  On this night we gather to celebrate the Passover Meal with Jesus and His disciples in an upper room of a home in Jerusalem.  During this time with His disciples, Jesus commands both them and us to do two things.  First, He commands that we love others as He has loved us (John 13:34).  To love is to serve, and Jesus demonstrates this by washing His disciples’ feet.  We, like Peter, are uncomfortable with our Lord washing our feet, but perhaps we feel even more uncomfortable when He commands us to do the same thing for each other.

Secondly, as Jesus celebrates the Passover Meal with His disciples, He infuses this sacred observance with new meaning by indicating that He Himself will be the Passover Lamb who is to be sacrificed for us all.  The Passover becomes not only what it has always been, a remembrance of the saving acts of God in delivering Israel from the bondage in Egypt, but it becomes a memorial to Jesus and His work on the Cross, which is the culmination and pinnacle of Salvation History.  Through Jesus’ “Real Presence” in the consecrated bread and wine, Jesus promises to be with us always. 

Maundy Thursday comes from the Latin word “mandatum” which means “command.”  At the Maundy Thursday service, we are obedient in following both of our Lord’s commands to serve each other, signified by the washing of each other’s feet, and to participate in the wonderful mystery we know as the Lord’s Supper.

 Good Friday

We are there as Jesus stumbles along the road through Jerusalem to Golgotha carrying His Cross.  Crowds jeering!  Whips cracking!  Calvary looming ahead!  We cannot help but remember the old spiritual hymn, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?”

It is the tradition of many Christians on this day to walk “The Way of the Cross” with Jesus, also known as “The Stations of the Cross.”  Early Christians who made their pilgrimage to Jerusalem would walk along the route Jesus took as He bore His Cross to Calvary.  When access to the Holy Land became limited following the Muslim conquest of the Middle East, churches in Europe would place “Stations” along the walls of their parish church commemorating the events of Jesus’ journey to the Cross. This became an alternate way the people could walk The Way of the Cross.

Here at Holy Trinity on Good Friday, we walk to The Way of the Cross with Jesus.    We gather at noon in the church and, using the paintings on the walls of the nave, move from prayer station to prayer station, event to event, until we come to Calvary with Jesus. 

 At our Good Friday Liturgy in the evening, we once again read The Passion Story, as we did on Palm Sunday, except this time from St. John’s Gospel.  After special prayers, known as the Solemn Collects, a wooden cross is brought into the sanctuary of the church.  We will then have the opportunity to symbolically take our sins, burdens and worries to the Cross of Christ. We have in the past done this by writing them on a slip of paper and nailing them to the wooden cross that has been brought into the Sanctuary.

Holy Saturday

1 Peter 3:19 tells us that on Holy Saturday Jesus "went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison.” This is known as the “Harrowing of Hell” when the proclamation of the Gospel is made to those who had not and will not otherwise hear the saving message of the Gospel.  But for you who walked with Jesus through the events of this week, watching as He was crucified on Friday, Saturday is a day of prayer and contemplation of what God in Christ has done for us.  Knowing the rest of the story, we wait expectantly for its fruition on Easter morning.

 The Great Vigil of Easter

In the 2000 years since these events of Holy Week, we have learned what it means to wait for the Day of the Resurrection with joyful expectation.  After sundown we gather to participate in what has become known as The Great Vigil of Easter.  In the early centuries of the Church, this was done with prayers, Scripture readings, singing, baptisms, and holding vigil throughout the night until dawn, at which time the first Eucharist of Easter would be celebrated.  The Scriptures read and expounded upon through the night would recall the mighty saving acts of God that culminate in the glorious event of Easter Morning. 

 On this night we also hold vigil, but in a more abbreviated manner.  We begin by commemorating the “Light of Christ” that has come into the world with the lighting of the Paschal Candle.  We read Scripture, say and renew our baptismal covenant with God, and then conclude by celebrating the first Eucharist of Easter. Following the Eucharist, many churches process into the parish hall for an “Agape Feast,” a celebration of the Risen Christ who has secured for us a place at the “Great Banquet Feast of the Lamb.”

 Easter Sunday

 This is the Feast Day of the Lord’s Resurrection, the single greatest celebration of the Christian year and the event to which all of Lent and Holy Week has been pointing.  Easter is a celebration of the wonders of the Paschal Mystery, which is that Jesus has overcome death and opened the gates of Heaven for all who choose to walk through.  

Alleluia! Alleluia!
 

The Reverend Rob Hartley, Anglican Church of the Holy Trinity, North Augusta, Lent, 2012