"Now there are many who
would say that we should be obedient to
state laws. Romans thirteen is thrown at me so many times that I just expect it
automatically and now I come up with it in the course of a talk. In fact one
person told me I had no right to criticize the federal reserve system, this was a
minister, turned out that his uncle was a member of the federal reserve
board. Or that we have no right to criticize
politicians, well I hardly see that; and it’s wrong for us to resist. Well that
always leads me to ask in return “well what was saint Paul doing in prison so
many times?”
Now what Romans thirteen tells us is that the powers that be are
ordained of God indeed. But it also tells us they are to be ministers of God.
That God has ordained on the one hand a ministry of grace, and then a ministry
of justice. Now do you mean if I’m sitting in a church where the ministry of
grace is being turned into a ministry of abomination by a modernist preacher I’m
to say nothing? I’m to protest. And if I’m in a state where the ministry of
justice is turned into a ministry of injustice I’m to use every Godly means to
protest that… So we cannot use Romans thirteen to silence Christians, that’s an
excuse to evade Christian responsibility"
~Rousas John Rushdoony
I came across this in my transcribing this week (which, by the way I set a new record of 38,707 words this week) and thought it was excellent, as much of Rushdoony's work is.
When I was attending a church out in Idaho I actually had a preacher use the West Minister Catechism to preach on how we need to submit to the government and that we could not criticize politicians or speak ill of them.
This is where I believe the problem lies. Rushdoony uses the example of protesting when the ministry of grace is being perverted abominably. Well maybe back in 1965ish when he was talking somebody might have protested, but not anymore. The churches are as guilty of perverting their God given duties as the Civil Government is, hence why we have people believing the common Roman's 13 interpretation of "lay down and let the government destroy all that is true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report, because that is
your Biblical duty" (Philippians 4:8 reference). If we will not stand up for what is right in the church, how can we expect anyone to stand up for what is right in the civil government?
“Rebellion to tyranny is obedience to God.” - Thomas Jefferson
Obviously our forefathers did not have the same view of Romans 13 as we do. Granted, Thomas Jefferson is not a good example of Christianity (he was a deist who didn't believe in miracles, just Google the "Jefferson Bible") however it was a largely Puritan nation that went to war against the injustices of parliament. Ministers during the Revolutionary war were known as the "Black Robed Regiment" by the British due to the powerful sermons they would preach (while wearing the traditional black robes of ministers) against the injustices of England's rule and the necessity for liberty in Christ that would stir their congregations into resisting the tyranny of the Brits.
Thus we can see that the current popular interpretation of Roman's thirteen is not only Unbiblical but spits in the face of out heritage, the very ideals that this country was founded on. You'd think that we would have thought this through a little more before adopting a communistic Statist interpretation of the Bible.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
Poems of a CNA
Even though I worked in an assisted living home we did hospice care for our residents when they started failing. These are poems about my experience working as a CNA, and some of them have to deal with death when acting as a healthcare worker. They are not to be seen as depressing, but written as a recognition of relief that death brings to these old souls. Please note, I do NOT believe in euthanasia -the idea is unBiblical and extremely sad
__________________________
"In the faded faces
you can get lost
in the passages of time.
Windows when looked through
Tell stories of beauty past
speak of memories fading fast.
And when finally what remains
is but a remnant of what was
the wandering soul in silence says much.
Lines between the present and past
are blurred with visions of the future
where the casual observer is not invited in.
Slowly, slowly fading,
lingering in a hazy existence
life leaves but a shell
though hollow, soon completely emptied.
And I sift through all this
looking for redemption
In an empty wrinkled hand."
__________________________
"Green tubes
like snakes crawling
across the floor
and up the easy chair
Into nostrils breathing
the welcome air of life
a pair of viper fangs settle
grooves formed among the wrinkles"
___________________________
"Hissing, like a silent serpent
crawling belly flat across the floor
creeping up the armrest
welcomed as a friend
its fangs exuding
where they mark
not death,
but life."
_______________________
This short poem following was about one of my residents who had Parkinson's disease and only had the use of one hand. In the dining room a blind resident sat to the right of her, which was the side of the good hand. At mealtimes when they would sit together the first resident would struggle to reach the blind residents coffee cup (which is put upside down when we set the tables) and dexterously flip it right side up using her one good hand.
"Only one hand
The other crippled
yet unable to do much
extending what she has
to do for those who cannot."
______________
"I held death's hand
and with the other
guided the wrinkled tool of toil
into his embrace.
Sweet relief I brought
to one lingering here
caught between two worlds,
Here, and gone.
I ushered a soul to death's doorstep
and with tearful energy
I sought to soothe the path
of one last tumultuous trip to be taken.
I walked right up to death
and relinquished my grasp on the shell
let him ferry her across the styx
while I turned back again
Yet from death returning
my finger prints remain on his hand
and part of me is departing
with the soul to Jordan's land.
I dealt with death
and I gave him a soul
and though with sorrow I bow my head,
with pride I straighten my back.
Because stooping I carried a burden
and sweating I toiled along
helping to bear the cross of one wearied
until leaving it behind they were free."
______________________
This last one is a poem about the death of a sweet peppy blind resident we had who was strongly and evidently Christian. She was surrounded by her family throughout her journey "home to my Father" as she referred to heaven.
"Spirited soul
softly slipping
once determined,
it was her time to go
Gently grasping
family sorrows
watchfully waiting
for the pre-appointed end
Waiting, waiting
it's always the hardest part.
Of saying goodbye,
as time drags on
__________________________
"In the faded faces
you can get lost
in the passages of time.
Windows when looked through
Tell stories of beauty past
speak of memories fading fast.
And when finally what remains
is but a remnant of what was
the wandering soul in silence says much.
Lines between the present and past
are blurred with visions of the future
where the casual observer is not invited in.
Slowly, slowly fading,
lingering in a hazy existence
life leaves but a shell
though hollow, soon completely emptied.
And I sift through all this
looking for redemption
In an empty wrinkled hand."
__________________________
"Green tubes
like snakes crawling
across the floor
and up the easy chair
Into nostrils breathing
the welcome air of life
a pair of viper fangs settle
grooves formed among the wrinkles"
___________________________
"Hissing, like a silent serpent
crawling belly flat across the floor
creeping up the armrest
welcomed as a friend
its fangs exuding
where they mark
not death,
but life."
_______________________
This short poem following was about one of my residents who had Parkinson's disease and only had the use of one hand. In the dining room a blind resident sat to the right of her, which was the side of the good hand. At mealtimes when they would sit together the first resident would struggle to reach the blind residents coffee cup (which is put upside down when we set the tables) and dexterously flip it right side up using her one good hand.
"Only one hand
The other crippled
yet unable to do much
extending what she has
to do for those who cannot."
______________
"I held death's hand
and with the other
guided the wrinkled tool of toil
into his embrace.
Sweet relief I brought
to one lingering here
caught between two worlds,
Here, and gone.
I ushered a soul to death's doorstep
and with tearful energy
I sought to soothe the path
of one last tumultuous trip to be taken.
I walked right up to death
and relinquished my grasp on the shell
let him ferry her across the styx
while I turned back again
Yet from death returning
my finger prints remain on his hand
and part of me is departing
with the soul to Jordan's land.
I dealt with death
and I gave him a soul
and though with sorrow I bow my head,
with pride I straighten my back.
Because stooping I carried a burden
and sweating I toiled along
helping to bear the cross of one wearied
until leaving it behind they were free."
______________________
This last one is a poem about the death of a sweet peppy blind resident we had who was strongly and evidently Christian. She was surrounded by her family throughout her journey "home to my Father" as she referred to heaven.
"Spirited soul
softly slipping
once determined,
it was her time to go
Gently grasping
family sorrows
watchfully waiting
for the pre-appointed end
Waiting, waiting
it's always the hardest part.
Of saying goodbye,
as time drags on
Sunday, February 17, 2013
This is my attempt to start blogging on a regular basis. Once a week, blog posts written on Sunday's.
Why am I doing this?
Well I've decided it will help with my communication skills, my grammar, and help me think a subject out thoroughly. When I have to write something out I often realize I did not have as firm a grasp on the subject as I originally thought I did. That's ok, it helps me learn more when I take the effort to write out my complete thoughts on a matter.
As much as I want to do this, I don't have much hope. I've been planning to do it for the past month, but have spent pretty much every Sunday afternoon sleeping the entire time between lunch and evening service. I know, you'd think I was old or something! To be fair, I pretty much only take naps on Sundays, but not because I don't want to, it's the only day I can justify it to myself ;)
Today is only a half-hearted attempt, it's past 11:45 p.m. and I'm also trying to keep a decent sleep schedule. Don't ask what sort of schedule I was keeping before that makes getting in bed before midnight early to me. :P But I figured if I really wanted to start doing this, then I needed to START, and maybe writing it down will make me accountable...
Another thing I want to start doing is posting my "poetry". Let me explain the quotation marks, I realize true poetry has form, meter, and takes skill to write. My poetry is more quickly jotted down incomplete thoughts in verse form. Sad, I know. Yet one more reason for me writing this blog, hopefully looking at the "poetry" I have written will inspire me to revise it and write better "poetry" in the future.
That being said, I believe I'm going to post a separate blog post tonight of a couple of poems from when I was working at an assisted living home as a CNA.
All in all, I'd like to try again for this blog to be what it was intended to be, a conglomeration of theological thoughts, daily living, and literature attempts. Here's to setting goals you doubt yourself that you'll meet! ;)
Why am I doing this?
Well I've decided it will help with my communication skills, my grammar, and help me think a subject out thoroughly. When I have to write something out I often realize I did not have as firm a grasp on the subject as I originally thought I did. That's ok, it helps me learn more when I take the effort to write out my complete thoughts on a matter.
As much as I want to do this, I don't have much hope. I've been planning to do it for the past month, but have spent pretty much every Sunday afternoon sleeping the entire time between lunch and evening service. I know, you'd think I was old or something! To be fair, I pretty much only take naps on Sundays, but not because I don't want to, it's the only day I can justify it to myself ;)
Today is only a half-hearted attempt, it's past 11:45 p.m. and I'm also trying to keep a decent sleep schedule. Don't ask what sort of schedule I was keeping before that makes getting in bed before midnight early to me. :P But I figured if I really wanted to start doing this, then I needed to START, and maybe writing it down will make me accountable...
Another thing I want to start doing is posting my "poetry". Let me explain the quotation marks, I realize true poetry has form, meter, and takes skill to write. My poetry is more quickly jotted down incomplete thoughts in verse form. Sad, I know. Yet one more reason for me writing this blog, hopefully looking at the "poetry" I have written will inspire me to revise it and write better "poetry" in the future.
That being said, I believe I'm going to post a separate blog post tonight of a couple of poems from when I was working at an assisted living home as a CNA.
All in all, I'd like to try again for this blog to be what it was intended to be, a conglomeration of theological thoughts, daily living, and literature attempts. Here's to setting goals you doubt yourself that you'll meet! ;)
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