Monday, August 10, 2026

Ancient wisdom

 

Take time to read ancient thinkers; they don't want you to repeat their mistakes

Ancient wisdom.

It’s everywhere. It’s not just the Bible, but in our study of history, of writers and philosophers and what might be called “movers and shakers” from the past.

But it’s also in your family. Even if you have what you consider to be a terrible family background, there are stories worth knowing, if for no other reason than to know how you’d like to see your own family story improved.

I read a story about a man who never really knew his father, because his father was in prison for murder. He was raised by his mother and a step-father. But later, as an adult, when his natural father died in prison, he was the point of contact and told to come pick up his father’s belongings, meager though they were.

Reluctantly he went. But while there, the prison guard who gave him what was left of his father’s belongings told him stories about his father. Apparently, in prison, this man’s father became a mentor to younger, new prisoners. He was a guy who was always there to listen to someone in trouble, or who was having to deal with family issues while incarcerated. He was a man who apparently taught himself while in prison and read a great deal. He was liked, and would apparently be missed.

The man was stunned. He had no idea of what his father was like, only that he was in prison for murder and that his mother never talked about him. Yet in hearing stories about his father, he could see there was some good, and discovered traits about himself – the son turned out to be an author, a pastor, a public speaker – that he could see where parts of his personality may have come from.

Even if your story is not that dramatic, there is value in knowing your family history; the struggles your parents and grandparents had, the lessons they learned over the years, stories about the people they knew. There are very often patterns in family history that you see repeated, even unknowingly and unintentionally.

According to a recent study in the American Academy of Arts and Science, 84 percent of American adults read for five minutes or less per day. As someone who has written books for other people, and tried to help get them published, I know it is easier than ever to get a book published because there are multiple self-publishing options; but I also know how difficult it is to get a traditional publishing deal, where the publisher pays for everything in the belief that the book will sell enough for the publisher to make a profit. With so few Americans apparently reading any more, I understand the difficulty.

I admit to being something of a Luddite, uncomfortable with modern technology. Luddites were members of a 19th-century movement of English textile workers who protested the industrialization of their industry out of fear of losing their jobs. (They are called “Luddites” after a legendary weaver named “Ned Ludd”, who may or may not have actually existed but over whose name threats were sent to factory owners and government officials).

While I’m not truly a Luddite in the sense that I am not opposed to new technology, I am slow to learn it and more comfortable – particularly in my old age – with the old ways of doing things.

And some lessons, particularly about human nature, should be remembered to avoid having to be constantly relearned.

I thought about this in coming across a writing by Ralph Waldo Emerson, a 19th Century writer/philosopher who believed people should be self-reliant and individualists and was a critic of countervailing pressures of society and conformity.

Emerson was once described as “a walking middle finger to the dumb traditions and sheeplike thinking that held people back.”

He wrote a long essay called “Self-Reliance” that I think should be taught in every school at the earliest ages.

According to Emerson, we need to reclaim our privacy. “My life is for itself and not a spectacle,’’ he wrote. How different that attitude is to today, when it seems as if there is no event, no emotion, no feeling that shouldn’t be shared with absolute strangers on social media – what’s called “oversharing.”

He also said we need to stop conforming to others’ thinking. “Whoso should be a man must be a nonconformist,’’ Emerson wrote. Even if you’re inclined to believe what you hear, you should still be skeptical. When you read or hear of something happened that sound outrageous, or are told that someone said something really offensive, see if you can find another source that verifies what you’re being told. I’ve fallen victim to quoting someone for something in turns out they did not say, just because it sounded like something they could have said. I’m still shocked at how much stuff is repeated, particularly on the internet, that a simply search will reveal to be false. And yet so many people get so worked up over it because – as the saying goes – “I read it on the internet; it must be true.”

Which brings up the next point: be true to yourself. “The great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.” Emerson also recognizes that going your own way can have a price. “For nonconformity, the world whips you with its displeasure.”

Don’t always go for instant gratification. Some things take time, and are worth pursuing even if it takes a while. “Instead of the gong for dinner, let us hear a whistle from the Spartan fife,’’ he writes. Have self-discipline. Refuse yourself instant, easy reward. Does it sometimes hurt? Of course it does. Going after the best rather than the easiest often does. But it’s usually worth it.

Then Emerson seems to go on to say that silly things, trivial things, immoral things, are not even worth condemning. Just eliminate them from your life. Don’t give them another thought. He says, “If you are noble, I will love you … but if you are not, I will not hurt you and myself by hypocritical attentions.” Focus on what can improve you, not on what frustrates you.

But also be willing to change your mind. This is hard, especially when people today seem to want to hold others accountable for attitudes they had years or even decades ago, as if people can’t change. With age should come maturity; with maturity, a better sense of what’s important and right. We should change. Emerson wrote, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by littles statesmen and philosophers and divines.” Say what you believe to be true without apology, even if it’s not what you said last week or last year.

Because it’s important to speak the truth. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Maybe especially if its uncomfortable.

But – and here’s where I go back to another source of ancient wisdom – the Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Ephesians, “speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.”

Speaking the truth in love is not just about honesty. How often have you heard someone start a sentence with “I’ve got to be honest…” and know that whatever comes next is likely to be hurtful? We should speak the truth in a way that builds up other people, not offends (although offense sometimes can’t be avoided). Because, as an old Christian hymn based on the writings of John says, “They will know we are Christians by our love.”

As a t-shirt I once owned said, “Even a dead fish goes downstream. Go against the flow.”

I think Emerson would agree.

Wednesday, August 5, 2026

Friends of Jesus

 


Did the Son of God have anyone with which he could be the 'son of man?'

I have a good friend, Chris. We’ve known each other over 20 years but really been friends for the last 15 or 16 years. We’ve been there for each other through a lot of life. I’ve written before about friendship in terms of the movie “Tombstone,’’ and if you have a friend that you know would face the mythical “Clantons” – the bad guys in the movie – like Doc Holliday did with Wyatt Earp. Chris is that person for me.

We have an agreement: whatever one of us says to the other, we will not repeat it anywhere, to anyone, and – unless it’s particularly egregious – will not judge it. We have learned that sometimes you need to just say something out loud, things you can’t say to your wife or anyone else because the words might be misunderstood or – more likely – it’s something that once you say it, you hear yourself say it and it’s over. It’s the power of being able to verbalize frustration or pain or anger without taking any of that out on someone. It gives both of us a safe space to get something out of our system.

It’s a really valuable relationship to have. As much as I love my wife (and I do), I am also careful to try not to say something that might hurt or offend her; with Chris, that doesn’t matter. I mean, really, what’s he going to do to me?

Then I wondered if Jesus, on His time on earth, had friends like that. We tend to think of the Disciples being Jesus’ friends, but they weren’t really; at least not initially. They were 12 men he picked to teach, to leave with instructions on how to carry on His ministry. And there are stories of how frustrating that relationship was for Jesus at times. He had a responsibility for them.

Then I read about the siblings: Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

Mary, Martha and Lazarus were apparently good friends of Jesus. At least, in John 11:5 it says, “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.” The three are from Bethany (Mary is referred to as “Mary of Bethany” to identify her from the other Marys in the Gospels). Bethany was a village in Judea about two miles east of Jerusalem (John 11:18). Scholars say Bethany was situated on the well-traveled road to Jericho, and a place Jesus seemed to visit frequently.

In addition to Mary, Martha and Lazarus, Bethany was the home of Simon the leper (Mark 14:3–10), and Mark and Luke describe it as the place where the disciples prepared for Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem that final week. It’s where Jesus cursed the fig tree (Mark 11:11-13), and where Jesus returned to rest after visiting the Temple, after his triumphal entry into Jerusalem but before his crucifixion. It’s not far-fetched to think Jesus used Mary, Martha and Lazarus’ home as that place to rest and prepare for what was coming.

I don’t know when Jesus first met the three siblings, but it’s apparent he knew them well, stayed with them frequently, and they were comfortable enough with Jesus to speak their minds with him.

One of the first stories is the one where Martha is busy preparing a meal to feed Jesus and his entourage, while Mary sits at Jesus’ feet. Martha says to Jesus, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself! Tell her to help me!” To tell Jesus what to do is either really bold, or else they had the kind of relationship where Martha could speak her mind to Jesus without fear.

By the way, while it does seem that Jesus is rebuking Martha for being busy when she could have been sitting and listening to him, I wonder if the point was not that Martha was busy preparing the meal for everyone – somebody had to do that - but that she had a bad attitude, a “woe-is-me” moment where she felt she was being put upon. Maybe it could have just as easily been Mary who complained to Jesus, saying, “Lord, tell Martha to quit with all this banging of pots and pans and rushing about so we can listen to you.” And if so, might Jesus not have rebuked her as he did Martha.

And then there is the story where Lazarus has died. Jesus shows up late, at least from the sisters’ perspective, and when he finally gets there Martha (and later Mary) says to Jesus, “If you had been here, our brother would not have died!” Again, Martha seems to feel free to chastise Jesus for being, from her perspective, late. “Hey, we sent for you days ago! Where have you been? You could have stopped this!” And in fact, she was right – Jesus purposely delayed his arrival, knowing full well that Lazarus was going to die before he got there.

And when Jesus got to Lazarus’ tomb, we get the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept.”

Even though Jesus knew what he was going to do, he was still apparently overcome with the emotion of his friends and what their pain and perception of this tragedy.

Jesus clearly loved Lazarus, but he did not invite Lazarus to join his traveling band of disciples. That, too, is kind of curious to me when you consider that among the men that Jesus did pick, he didn’t pick at least one long-time friend. There had to have been men Jesus grew up with, that he’d known for years (maybe Lazarus was one of those?) Instead, after a full night of prayer, Jesus picks a hated tax collector, a left-wing radical, two brothers with a temper known as the Sons of Thunder, and a guy that would eventually betray him.

Jesus didn’t seem to have someone like Lazarus, a man that clearly Jesus loved and with whom Jesus seemed to enjoy visiting often at his home in Bethany.

Maybe – and I admit this is a big “maybe”– Jesus needed a friend who he could relax with, who he could talk about the things that were happening in his ministry without worrying about how his words might be interpreted or second-guessed; where he could say “Can you believe what Thomas did?” or “This Judas is going to be the death of me.” (OK, maybe that went to far).

I wonder if the human side of Jesus didn’t need a place to escape, to relax, to not have to be “on” all the time; to escape the scrutiny of the people looking for miracles or the Pharisees looking for him to trip up. Scripture says Jesus did not have a place to “lay his head,’’ meaning he did not have a home. I wonder if this place in Bethany was not the closest thing to a home Jesus had on earth, a place where the Son of God could just be fully “human,” truly the “son of man.”

Or maybe I’m reading far too much into this.

I just know that it’s good to have a friend that you can relax and be yourself with, without fear of being misunderstood or second-guessed.

Friendship is not always about having someone who will go to war with you.

More often than not, it’s about having someone with whom you can enjoy some peace.

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Rabbit Trails

 

It's easy to get lost, so why not get lost in good things?

Rabbit trails.

Not “here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail.”

I’m talking when you get away from what you originally started reading or looking up because you found something related that distracted you, which caused you to start looking into that distraction, which led to another interesting tidbit that you just had to look up, which led to …you know.

I have very frequently fallen victim to rabbit trails. I am a fan of Alex Kershaw’s books, particularly his World War II books. I recently read Against All Odds: A True Story of Ultimate Courage and Survival in World War II, a fascinating story of four of the most decorated soldiers of World War II, all members of the U.S. Army’s 3rd Infantry Division, which produced four Medal of Honor winners: Maurice “Footsie” Britt, Michael Daly, Keith Ware, and Audie Murphy.

Murphy was the most decorated American soldier in World War II, who returned home and became an actor. I’d grown up watching Murphy in cowboy movies, and even as a child knew he was not a great actor by any means – he was short, didn’t have a lot of expression, and a voice that didn’t exactly command attention the way John Wayne’s voice did.

But reading about Murphy’s heroism led me to check out a book on Murphy, to read about his life. Which in turn led me to look up and watch some of his movies, particularly the one where he played himself in the movie To Hell and Back, based on his 1949 memoirs of the same name.

But in reading about Murphy, I got sidetracked into other actors who’d fought in World War II, like Lee Marvin, who was in a movie called Donovan’s Reef, which my father and I watched what felt like 100 times because it seemed like every time we turned the TV on, Donovan’s Reef was playing. It became a running joke between us, a memory I treasure.

But that led me to other movies with Marvin. The Dirty Dozen, of course, but also Cat Ballou, for which Marvin won an Oscar as Best Actor, although in his acceptance speech he gave credit to his horse, Smokey, who may well have been the best actor in the whole movie – the horse played drunk better than Marvin did.

Which led me to wondering why horses seem to ‘act’ so well in so many movies and TV shows … well, you get the idea.

Welcome to the Rabbit Trail.

This came up the other day when I was reading an article that referenced a 2023 study by music psychologist Dr. Michael Bonshor from the University of Sheffield (England) that determined the “Happiest song of all time.”

Dr Bonshor found that the most uplifting songs contain a tempo of 137 beats per minute (bpm) and an ordinary verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure. However, what makes human beings latch onto a song is an unpredictable element like a key change or a “seventh chord.”

“Previous studies have found songs are perceived as happy if they are in a major key, with a sweet spot of approximately 137 beats per minute,” Bonshor is quoted as saying. “We like ‘7th chords’ as they add interest – regular chords use three notes, whereas ‘seventh chords’ add an extra note which provides a sense of musical ‘tension’ and ‘relief.’”

The happiest song of all time? The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations.”

Others on the list included some classic from my era, like “I Got You (I Feel Good)” by the Godfather of Soul, James Brown; “September” by Earth, Wind, and Fire; “YMCA” by the Village People.

Can’t argue with science, right?

I grew up around music. My family knows that when I find something I like – music, a book, a movie – I’ll run it in the ground. If you listen to my kids, you’d think I played nothing but Hall and Oates when they were little. Even now, when I’m fixing Saturday morning breakfast for the family my soundtrack of choice for years has been Al Jarreau, or lately the Gypsy Kings.

I can listen to the music of Acoustic Alchemy any time, particularly the early stuff before original founder Nick Webb died. I could go on and on, because I have been told I have an eclectic taste in music.

The point is that I don’t seem to get tired of the stuff that I enjoy.

On the other hand – still on that rabbit trail – I came across another study, “The Effects of Different Types of Music on Mood, Tension, and Mental Clarity,’’ a 1998 paper in Alternative Methods of Health and Therapy. A total of 144 subjects completed a psychological profile before and after listening for 15 minutes to four types of music (grunge rock, classical, New Age, and designer).

With grunge rock music, “significant increases were found in hostility, sadness, tension, and fatigue, and significant reductions were observed in caring, relaxation, mental clarity, and vigor.” According to one definition of Grunge Rock, the music features “distorted electric guitar” and lyrics that are “typically angst-filled and introspective, often addressing themes such as social alienation, self-doubt, abuse, neglect, betrayal, social and emotional isolation, addiction, psychological trauma, and a desire for freedom.”

I admit I have not listened to a lot of – if any – grunge rock. According to Wikipedia (take if for what it’s worth), bands such as Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Alice in Chains – bands I have heard of – made grunge rock “the most popular form of hard rock music during the 1990s” (the period when I was apparently listening to nothing but Hall and Oates or Acoustic Alchemy).

It’s art, so it’s hard to say why one type of music, or even one particular song, moves one person and not another. My wife loves art - the picture and sculpture kind - and I have learned to appreciate it more as I have shared in her love of it. We spend a lot of time in galleries when we travel, particularly in New Orleans. But even after these many years together, she will love a piece of art that I look at and see nothing but colors on a canvas.

That’s the thing about art and music, about beauty: it’s hard to articulate. But it definitely affects us. I go back to music, and it actually makes me feel good to listen to a song I really like, no matter how many times I’ve heard it.

Researchers have found that people experience greater life satisfaction when they enjoy beauty, be it art on the wall or music or just seen while standing in a valley looking at nature.

It makes me thing of a verse in the book of Philippians that says, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

Paul could have gone on and on and listed some specific things, no doubt. But I don’t think the point is to be that strict. The point is to simply find the things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable and make that a part of your life.

Think about them, enjoy them, and try to stay away from the stuff that is not.

That’s the kind of rabbit trail that’s worth going down.