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It was a perfect environment created by God for His creation. It was very good. Then, sin crept, or rather slithered, into the garden and the man and woman plunged into sin and ruin. Their refusal to obey God resulted in the curse upon man and his environment. Mankind chose rebellion rather than a relationship and would now reap what they have sown.
This sin was not just a problem for Adam and Eve. It was now everyone’s problem. Sin and its devastating consequences immediately began to infiltrate and infest society. One of the ways this sin manifested itself was through violence. It all happened really quickly. For example, the fall of man was in Genesis chapter 3. The first murder occurred in Genesis 4, the very next chapter. The first murder involved a conflict between two brothers Cain and Abel. These two brothers both brought an offering to the Lord. Abel’s offering was accepted and sufficient. Cain’s offering was rejected and deficient. The problem, it appears, was not with the offering itself, but rather with the one who brought the offering. The problem was with Cain. Although volumes have been written about this story, it seems that Cain’s attitude was not right. When confronted by God, Cain became angry and defiant. God gave Cain the opportunity to make it right and said to him, “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it” (Gen 4:6-7). Cain was given the opportunity to do a little soul searching and behavioral maintenance. He was warned that if he did not change, sin, like a vicious, carnivorous beast, was “crouching at the door” ready to pounce upon him. He had a choice. Rule over your anger or your anger will rule over you. You probably know the rest of the story. He made the wrong choice. His inability to control his emotions allowed the beast out of its cage. As a result, he murdered his little brother. What’s worse, after the murder, God confronted Cain asking him, “where is your brother, Abel?” Cain, without remorse, responded, “am I my brother’s keeper?” The correct answer was, yes, you should have been. As the story of Genesis continues to unfold, sin, like a virus, continued not only to abound, but to intensify. In fact, by Genesis 6, the Bible records, “The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually” (Gen 6:5). This evil mindset led to external sin. The Bible adds, “the earth was corrupt in God's sight, and the earth was filled with violence. And God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth. And God said to Noah, ‘I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence through them’” (Gen 6:11-13). God had suffered the corruption and violence of man long enough. He would put an end to it. But, because of God’s great love and mercy, He chose to save Noah and his family and begin anew. But, as God already knew, you can change the environment of people, but unless you change the heart, you haven’t really changed anything. Time marched on. It was more of the same. More hatred. More violence. Because of sin, all of us face the beast within. Sometimes we win. Sometimes the beast wins. Where Adam, Eve, Cain, you and I get it wrong, there was one who got it right: Jesus. When the Jewish and Roman authorities came to arrest Jesus in order to try Him for false acts of treason, Peter, one of the disciples, drew his sword and attacked the first guy he saw. It happened to be a guy named Malchus who was the servant of the high priest. The Bible records that he cut off his ear. Naturally, Peter was not looking to lop off body parts by starting with the ear, he swung, the guy tried to duck, and Peter missed his head by a nose (or should we say, an ear?). Peter, who had seen Jesus do the miraculous, probably thought He would support his endeavor. But instead, Jesus healed Malchus and put his ear back on. He then said to Peter, “Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword. Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Luke 26:52-53). Jesus said two things. First, violence has a long, deceptive history and only leads to more violence and destructive consequences. Second, God is in control and my arrest is part of His divine plan. At any moment, I could choose to get out of here and do it without your help. Jesus tried to teach us, and modeled for us, that the greatest weapon is not the sword, but love. Christ-followers are told to walk in love and forgiveness. God will take care of the judgment part. The Bible says, “never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Rom 12:19-21). That’s a tough pill to swallow. First of all, in true transparency, it makes little sense. Should we just let someone off the hook that hurts us? Remember, God isn’t saying that judgement is not necessary. It is. There is the temporal judgment (through the legal system, Rom 13:1-6) and then there is the eternal judgement where “we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ” (2 Cor 5:10). Jesus says ultimate justice will not be denied, just delayed. He says, “let me take care of that part.” Second, extending love and forgiveness and allowing God to execute His will is just very difficult to do. You might say, “if I choose the road of love, I might be taken advantage of, hurt, and possibly even become a victim.” That’s true. I do not argue that point. But, come to think of it, that’s what happened to Jesus. He was the ultimate victim. He was perfect in every way and arrested without cause. But, in the ultimate role reversal, the supposed victim became the sovereign victor. Remember, at any time, Jesus could have yanked the nails out of His hands and feet, pulled the crown of thorns off His head, healed himself—and then called down fire from heaven to consume those around Him. That’s probably how we would prefer the story to end. But with this alternate ending, He would not have displayed His perfect love for everyone—even the ones that drove the nails. And, with this alternate ending, we would still be our sin. Jesus, the marvelous Savior, modeled perfect love and forgiveness. His expects His people to do the same. God is not absent. He is patient. We now live in a time where God extends His marvelous grace to all who would come to the Savior. Only His blood can cleanse the beast within. One great day, however, the well of grace will dry up, and ultimate justice will be done. Until then, we love and wait patiently. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. When we use the term “common courtesy,” we generally refer to what some people call social norms, manners, or social etiquette. I realize that scores of information have been written over hundreds, and even thousands, of years.
Most of what we know about common courtesy came from our parents who taught us to chew with our mouth closed, wait your turn, say please and thank you, open the door for others, etc. I still remember my mother being horrified when, at a restaurant, one of us kids said, “hey lady, you forgot my fork.” It was a good opportunity for a discussion on social etiquette. I put a request out on social media recently to ask if people thought common courtesy has been diminishing. Although it was an unscientific poll, most said yes and identified several areas of concern. The poll revealed exactly what I believed to be true. In addition to the disappearance of social etiquette, I’ve noticed the disintegration of simple respect or what we might just define as “just being a decent human being.” I’ve noticed these traits evaporating over the years, but so much more so now in the midst of a pandemic and election year. As Americans, we are part of the United States of America. Although we are united as states, it is no secret that Americans are divided on a multitude of issues. All of them are critically important. Many of them conjure up deep emotion and tension. The basic problem is egocentrism. All of us think a certain way and we believe we’re right. Because we think we’re right we believe that the world would be a better place if everyone just thought like us. Makes sense. Then, we adamantly attempt to convince others to see the error of their ways and to agree with us. The problem was that philosophy is that we all have deep-seeded beliefs. For example, in true transparency, my social beliefs are guided by my faith in God. From my perspective, I believe in right and wrong. I believe in moral absolutes. I believe in the Judeo/Christian foundation of morality. However, I know that not everyone believes that way. Other people reject a belief in God and prefer a humanistic view. Their belief system is based upon a different set of values. These values are often good values, but from my perspective, they are not always biblical values. Invariably, this leads to possible tension and potential conflict. As a pastor and student of the Bible, I am convinced that the Bible has all the answers. It doesn’t have the answers to all the questions I have, but it has all the answers to the questions that I need to know. One of the foundational truths in the Bible is that all humans are created in the image of God. We all have value. That doesn’t mean that everyone created in the image of God will believe in Him or submit to His will, but it does mean that, at the core of their existence, they have tremendous value. In fact, people have so much value that God sent His one and only Son to die upon a cross. He thought we were worth it. Thus, for me, common courtesy has a biblical foundation. Not only does the Bible reveal that we all have value, but it also reveals a proper understanding of how followers of Jesus should act toward all people. Followers of Christ are to love, honor, and serve others. Jesus taught and modeled this truth. For example, on one occasion he said if you are invited to a prestigious party, don’t be a braggard and be puffed up and full of yourself wanting to be honored by others (a contemporary paraphrase from Luke 14:7-11). Jesus also modeled this truth. The Bible says he came not to be served, but to serve (Mark 10:45). As God in the flesh, He became human and humbled Himself by dying upon a cross (Phil 2:8). Perhaps a great summary statement would be when Jesus said, “do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:31). Notice He did not say, do “as” they do to you. This often leads to retaliation. He preferred a more proactive approach and “do to others as you would have them do to you.” Figuring this out is not overly complicated. We often make statements about ourselves like, “I wish somebody would…” or “How come nobody ever…?” When we make statements like these, it is probably safe to say that, oftentimes, other people are feeling what we are feeling. Rather than wanting to receive, we need to be willing to give. For example, when we’re sitting in stop and go traffic, perhaps on I-70, for some reason it’s often very difficult to let people merge in. We feel like it’s unfair. We’ve been waiting our turn and minding our own business, but now, some stranger wants to butt in. They don’t deserve it. What’s worse, the guy in front of us didn’t let anyone in which means two people might try to squeeze in front of us! So unfair. You’ve been there, right? You see their blinker and yet you get as close to the car in front of you as you can. You also don’t make eye contact, but pretend you don’t see them or worse, you give them the “how dare you look”. If you think about it, it’s really such a small thing. Yet, we grow tense and feel violated. The “do unto others” principle just means that we, at times, are “those people” who try to merge in. When we’re the mergers, we’re just as tired and running just as late. We’re frustrated when we realize we have to merge and just want to get home like everybody else. Being a descent person just means that we extend basic kindness to the people around us—even if they don’t understand the basic concept of the zipper merge. One of the biggest issues I’ve noticed does not have to do with face-to-face interaction, but with social media. Have you noticed how mean and cruel some people can be on social media? Social scientists have used the phrase “disinhibition effect” to describe the difference between the way we communicate face-to-face and the way we communicate online. There is a huge difference. Oftentimes, people “say” things online that they would never say to another person’s face. If you’re on social media, you’ve seen all the election propaganda. You probably have family and friends who do not agree with you and you’ve wondered, “How can that person believe that kind of garbage?” The truth be known, they’re thinking the same thing about you. It’s inevitable. We will disagree. And truth be known, you’re not changing my mind no matter how many bumper stickers you put on your car or how many posts you put on social media. It’s not that I don’t understand your point or philosophy. I understand. I just don’t agree. However, my disagreeing with you doesn’t mean that I can’t respect you as a person and treat you as a human being. Just like me, you were created in the image of God. My ultimate goal, and I often fall far short, is to display the love and kindness of Jesus to people who don’t agree with me and possibly don’t like me. I won’t change my philosophy or my mind, but I can choose how to respond and “speak truth in love” (Eph 4:15). Jesus, the ultimate role model, when on the cross, loved those who drove the nails saying, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” We may not agree, but can’t we still be civil, kind, and respectful? We all are, after all, human and, therefore, family. We all are created in the image of God. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. Me and the Mrs. were walking through Costco recently. I was dragging my feet with my eye on the big screen LCD TVs. My wife, just ahead of me said, “Do you want to get some socks?” I turned my attention to the containers of socks and glanced at them longingly, already picturing them on my feet. They looked soft and comfy, but I blurted out, “No, we would need to buy several packages.”
Now, the package of socks had four pairs and was about ten dollars. I did some quick math and figured we would probably need about three or four packages. I go through socks. As a runner, if it’s a “run day”, I’ll go through two pairs a day. I’ve been known to go through three pairs a day. “Why would you need so many?” she probed. In frustration I responded, “Because it’s time to redo my sock drawer again.” Feeling the escalating tension, I concluded, “it’s probably best for us to just keep walking.” She doesn’t understand my recurring sock dilemma. I have a thing for socks. When my birthday and the holidays come around, I always ask for socks. I’m not sure when it started, but I just like them. It’s also no secret in the Geiger house that, in the winter, I sleep with my socks on. I guess it’s not a secret anywhere now. Years ago, when I was younger, I was required to wear a tie at work. At the time, I was also a little more stylish. Back then, I used to accumulate all kinds of different socks. I had athletic socks, work socks, dress socks, and slippy socks just to wear around the house. Some were thick. Some were thin. These socks came in a plethora of different sizes, patterns, and colors. Some of them were low cut at the ankle, some to the calf, and some came up to the knee. In the olden days, my socks would match my outfit. Although I can’t match my clothes, somehow, I was able to match my socks to my clothes. Some of my favorite dress socks were ones that had various colors, stripes, and patterns. Now that I think about it, I guess it was hard not to match those multicolored socks with my non-matching outfit. According to some sources, socks go all the way back to the Stone Age. Although nothing like we have today, these primitive socks were made from animal skins and pelts tied around the ankle. These “socks” didn’t cover the feet, but the lower legs and were more for protection than fashion. Socks were also worn in the times of Greeks and Romans. The Romans had socks that were worn with sandals. Eventually, socks became more of a fashion statement. During the Middle Ages, socks were brightly colored and, since they didn’t have an elastic band at the top, they were held in place with garters to keep them from falling down. They understood the incredible discomfort of having your socks slide down your legs and accumulate at your ankles. In 16th century Europe, socks, like other pieces of clothing, were regulated by law. For example, the City of London enforced laws that kept anyone from wearing the wrong kind of socks in the capital. These “sock police” checked the legs of people entering and leaving the premises. As time went on, fashions, styles, and materials changed, especially with the invention of Nylon in 1938 and mass production. In our generation, we have seen sock styles come and go. It’s been at the knee, the ankle, and the calf. Socks can also make a statement about our identity. I can remember my girls growing up and choosing to wear two different socks. Desiring to make their own fashion statement, they just wore whatever came out of the dresser drawer. The two boys were different. They just wore socks like me. Eventually, me and the two boys all had about the same size foot. Attempting to decide whose socks were whose was difficult. What made it increasingly difficult was that my wife would buy us all socks for Christmas. Oftentimes, they looked very similar. As time went on, eventually, my sock drawer was just overrun with socks. Adding insult to injury was that fact that my wife would wash the socks and leave them for me to fold and put away. My folding and her folding are two different things. My folding meant you grabbed the whole pile, dumped them in the drawer, and worried about matching them later. My strategy led to all sorts of problems. For example, at times, one of my socks would just disappear. I don’t know if the washer or dryer got it or if it ended up in one of the boy’s drawers, but I would end up with one unmatched sock. This collection of misfit socks would go in a special corner in my drawer. Although I appreciated the 99 socks that were safe in the fold, I was continually looking for that lost one, waiting for its return. Unfortunately, the corner of misfit socks just kept growing and growing exponentially. This was a source of constant frustration. For one, it was difficult to get the drawer to actually close. In addition, it was super frustrating when I would dig through the socks and attempt to pull out a pair and pull out one that I liked, but found it was of the lone sock collection. Then came that one fateful day as I dug through my sock drawer frustratingly attempting to find a desirable match. Like a prisoner set free from the bondage, I exclaimed, “I’m done with this!” I had the passion and I had a plan. Without telling my wife, I went to the store, on my own, and bought several packages of the same socks. In the cover of night, I got rid of all the old ones. My new socks, like beautiful matching clones, were all the same: black and low cut. I had come upon a sock solution! No matter what two I grabbed, it always worked. I could even dress in the dark if I had to. Happy days were here again—at least for a while. Over time, three problems arose. The first problem was that the socks I bought were low quality. Left on my own at the store, without maternal supervision, I went for the cheapo ones. These wore out quickly. They developed worn spots and became uncomfortable. The second problem was that when I wore dress pants and sat down, my pant legs rose and you could see my ankles. I would not have known this without the aid of my fashion designer and wife. The third problem was that, during the winter, my legs would get cold. To solve these problems, I decided to upgrade some of the “old” lowcut socks for a better quality. In addition, I also bought some long socks for the winter months. This worked well for a while. But, several problems arose. First, when some of the socks needed to be replaced, I would go to the store thinking I was buying the same type, but I was not. They were close, but not matching styles. In addition, I made the mistake of buying long, black athletic socks in a package, but realized later, they all had different patterns. Also, Christmas came around and, again, I got some new, different socks to add to the mix. So, here I am again. A drawer full of mismatched socks of various sizes and styles. This has been a continuous cycle of frustration. But I have not lost hope. In the midst of this writing, I turned over to check my email to see one from a sock company. They email me from time to time to say hi and to get me to buy their socks. I haven’t yet, but they look amazing. They promise no smell, no blisters, and no hot spots. These socks pull moisture away from the skin and are fast drying. They’re cool in the summer and warm in the winter. They are designed for runners and look amazing. Especially intriguing is that these socks are unconditionally guaranteed for life. If they ever go “bad,” they will replace them. That’s the good news. The bad news is that these socks start at $17 a pair and go up to about $35. So, I know it’s only August, but I already know what I’m going to ask for Christmas. I’m not sure how that will go over. Plan B is to ask for another sock drawer. I’ll keep you updated. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. I don’t go to church. I don’t need to go. Although, as a pastor, some people think I go to church or even expect me to go, I refuse. I’m not rebellious, just redeemed.
You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Putting God in a box.” I’m sure you understand the gist of the phrase. What’s more fascinating is the etymology and theology. The easiest way to explain it may be to go back to Indiana Jones. In the 1981 George Lucas film, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Harrison Ford plays Dr. Indiana Jones. Dr. Jones, an archaeologist, is searching for the ark of the covenant. Essentially it was a box. But not just any box as he, and the Nazi’s, found out. It represented the power of God. Before I talk about the box, let me talk about the place where the box was kept. For that, rather than the drama of Hollywood, we need to go back to the actual story in the Bible. The Israelites suffered bondage in Egypt. God brought them out with a mighty hand. After he did, God commanded the Israelites to construct the tabernacle, basically a large tent. It would symbolize His presence. Eventually, when the Israelites established themselves, the concept of the tabernacle morphed into a permanent structure called the temple. The main difference between the two was that the tabernacle was movable (used in the wilderness wanderings)—the temple was permanent and located in Jerusalem. Both tabernacle and temple represented the same thing. The most important element of the Jewish temple was an area inside the temple known as the “holy of holies” or the “most holy place.” Within this area was kept the ark of the covenant—"The Box.” The actual dimensions of the ark came from God. It was measured in cubits. That’s about the distance from your elbow to your fingertips—or about 18”. But since our tape measures don’t include cubits, the English translation would be a rectangular box about 52 inches long, 31 inches high, and 31 inches wide. The ark was covered in pure gold. But its value was not measured monetarily. The ark had a lid on it, called the mercy seat. The mercy seat featured two angels, called cherubim, who were at opposite sides with their wings stretched toward the middle. It was the middle part that was the most important. That was God’s spot. God said, “And you shall put the mercy seat on the top of the ark… There I will meet with you, and from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim that are on the ark of the testimony, I will speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel.” (Exodus 25:21-22). God promised that His presence would be there upon the mercy seat on the ark. There was no image on the mercy seat for a reason. “God is spirit” (John 4:24). Any attempt to assign an image to the invisible God was considered idolatry. No image would suffice. The temple was a critical part of worship for the Jews. At the temple, people would come to pay homage and seek forgiveness. Through the intermediary of the priests, they would offer sacrifice to the invisible God. Not only was God invisible, but He was also inaccessible. His majestic presence was relegated to the sacred area of the holy of holies and the mercy seat. Only the high priest could go in there and he could only enter once a year—on the day of Atonement when he would offer sacrifice for the sin of the nation. As a visible reminder, there was a large curtain that separated the holy of holies from the rest of the temple area. Although God chose to meet with the Jews at the mercy seat, He could not be contained. The Bible reveals that he is omnipresent. That means he is everywhere—all at the same time. God does not dwell in a temple made with hands (Isaiah 66:1). You can’t put God in a box. Back to my initial discussion of why I don’t go to church. As I said, on the mercy seat of the ark of the covenant, there was no form. We don’t have enough crayons in the box. However, God chose to reveal Himself through the Person of Jesus who is “the image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15). The Bible says, [God] “became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:1, 14). Interestingly, the word “dwelt” in that sentence is the Greek word for tabernacle. It’s not a coincidence but divine providence. Jesus tabernacled among us. Thomas, one of the disciples, said to Jesus, “Lord, show us the Father.” Jesus responded, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me…? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:8-9). Jesus, the very God who manifested Himself on the mercy seat, came to put His portrait in the center of the cherubim. He also came to do a little temple maintenance. While in Jerusalem, at the temple, Jesus said to His adversaries, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2:19). A strange statement, indeed. They responded by saying, “it took forty-six years to build this temple and you are going to raise it in three days?” (John 2:20). Of course, Jesus wasn’t talking about the physical temple—although He certainly could have done that if He wanted. The temple He was talking about was spiritual—His own body (John 2:21). This was illustrated vividly at the crucifixion. The Bible records that when Jesus died, the huge curtain that separated the temple area from the holy of holies—where the ark of the covenant was—was torn in two from top to bottom as if God Himself ripped the curtain from above. The symbolism is clear. No longer was there a separation between God and people. People no longer would go to the temple to find atonement and reconciliation. The temple became just another building. Jesus Himself, the perfect sacrifice, became the temple, the door, the access, and the way to God. He is the mediator, the high priest, and the perfect lamb. His death on the cross fulfilled the Law and obliterated the need for a continual sacrificial system in a physical location. His body replaced the temple. He did it once, for all (Heb 7:27). A proper understanding of Christianity means that, upon salvation, God Himself, through the person of the Holy Spirit, comes to live in the life of the believer. The miracle and majesty of the New Testament is that Christians don’t go to church. Christians do get together in buildings we call often call churches. We’re reminded, don’t neglect “to meet together, as is the habit of some” (Heb 10:25). But the building doesn’t make it a church. The people do. For example, in the Bible, the Apostle Paul sends greetings to the church in Corinth. He writes, “The churches of Asia send you greetings. Aquila and Prisca, together with the church in their house, send you hearty greetings in the Lord” (1 Cor 16:19). Notice, the “church in their house.” Also, he writes to the church at Colossae saying, “Give my greetings to the brothers at Laodicea, and to Nympha and the church in her house” (Col 4:15). It says very clearly, again, the church in her house. Christians don’t go to church. We are the church. The church is not a building, but a body. It is not an organization, but an organism. God lives in us. The Bible reminds us, “do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? (1 Cor 6:19). That’s why I don’t go to church. I don’t go to church because I am part of the church. Where I go, the church is. If you remember, in the movie, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones does find the ark and it ends up in a warehouse somewhere. Probably for the best. We don’t need it anymore. You can’t put God in a box. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. by Wayne Geiger Several months ago, on a Sunday morning, at the beginning of the stay-at-home order, I began my message to the nine people who were in attendance at the church and those watching online.
I remember saying something like, “Even though I’m a classic introvert and am not into hugging, when this thing is over, I’m giving out free hugs.” Four months later, I’m still waiting for “this thing” to be over and for things to get back to “normal.” Truth be told, I’m missing the human connection and interaction. Complicating the issue is wearing a mask. About sixty-five percent of our language is nonverbal. Having something covering our face minimizes our facial features. We can’t always tell if a person is frowning or if they have a stomachache. Even before this pandemic, studies suggested that half of Americans say they are lonely. In addition, many others report that they have no meaningful relationships. They describe their existence as isolated, marginalized, and sometimes, rejected. Some social scientists and mental health experts have labeled loneliness as a crisis. In a 2019 article by Kay S. Hymowitz, she calls loneliness an epidemic. Loneliness is also dangerous. A study released by Cigna, an insurance company, revealed, “only around half of Americans say they have meaningful, daily face-to-face social interactions.” They claim that loneliness is killing as many people as obesity and smoking. Loneliness is a villain that does not discriminate based up age, gender, or culture. It is a vicious predator that seeks to destroy and has manifested its ugly head in self-harm and even suicide. I was surprised to learn that, when dealing with the issue of suicide, it’s not the younger people who are the most susceptible. Rather, it is senior adults. The National Center for Biotechnology Information notes that the number one risk factor for suicide is when a person suddenly becomes a widow or widower. The NCBI has called the rise in suicides, a “Major public health issue.” The issue of loneliness is really nothing new. In 1974, the music group, “America,” released a song called, “Lonely People.” One of the lines goes like this, “This is for all the lonely people. Thinking that life has passed them by. Don't give up until you drink from the silver cup. And ride that highway in the sky.” But loneliness didn’t begin in the 1970’s. We could go back to the thirteenth century where German emperor Frederick II conducted a bizarre experiment. He wanted to know what language humans would speak if they weren’t taught any language. He placed fifty newborns in the care of nurses who were given strict orders only to feed and bathe the infants. The caretakers were not allowed to speak, hold, or have any other contact with them. The emperor never discovered the answer to what language they would speak. Sadly, none of the infants survived the isolation. As humans, we were built for connection and interaction. It is a matter of life and death. Connection and interaction are so important that isolation has been, and is, used as punishment. I can remember as a kid being sent to my room and had to close the door until being invited out. In our penal system, more than forty states still use solitary confinement as punishment. For the average person, research shows that people without strong social ties are more likely to suffer from major ailments such as heart disease and high blood pressure as well as suffer from lesser ailments such as the common cold. There may be no cure for the common cold, but chicken soup from a friend may help relieve its severity and promote healing. Maybe it’s not the soup. But, why do we need one another? Although some social scientists would suggest that our dire need for social interaction goes back to prehistoric times when humans lived and survived in packs in order to protect the herd, as a pastor, I believe the issue is not sociological, but theological. Way back in the beginning, in the Garden of Eden, God created the first human in His own image. Adam was one of a kind--literally. He was created for intimacy with his Creator and had the world at his feet. But something was missing—or someone. He was surrounded by other animals in pairs, but he was alone. God then said, “It’s not good for the man to be alone” (Gen 2:18). To remedy the pain of this isolation, God created a helpmate and soulmate. That relationship produced other social units such as the family, extended family, and communities. All of it was part of God’s plan and it was good. But we weren’t just created to know each other. Primarily, we were created to know God intimately and personally. The French mathematician and philosopher, Blaise Pascal, put it like this, "There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing.” We were built to know our Creator and interact with one another. That’s our happy place. Our place of contentment. Isolation, on the other hand, is part of Satan’s strategy. He seeks to divide and conquer. Jesus, the Great Shepherd, leaves the 99 to find the missing one. Satan stealthily attempts to find those who are separated from the fold and in isolation. The Bible says “the devil prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:7). Many animal packs, by instinct, learn how to herd in order to protect their young and vulnerable. According to mom.com, “Bison typically run when they sense danger, but when predators approach without warning, bison form a multilayer circle of protection. The females form a ring around the young, and the males form an outer ring surrounding the females.” Humans, on the other hand, often exclaim, “it’s every person for themselves!” or joke, “I don’t have to outrun the bear, I just need to be able to outrun you.” Loneliness is a crisis, but, I believe, preventable. I guess, if the statistics are true, and 50% of us feel alone, then, either these people are all living by themselves, or some of them are living with us—or are at least in our circle. If you think of it that way, perhaps, we’re never really alone. We’re just disconnected while being surrounded by other lonely people. If you fall into this category, my recommendation would be, rather than waiting for someone to come along seeking you—attempt to be proactive. Even in this time of social distancing when many people are not getting out, there are ways to connect. We can connect through the telephone, video, text, and even cards and letters. If you feel the loneliness is severe, seek the assistance of a trained professional. In addition to connecting with one another, to connect to God, we have the wonderful power of prayer and the opportunity to connect to Him through His Word. He’s always there. Jesus says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:27). On some levels, we all feel a sense of loneliness and isolation. This is expected—for now. Because of the rebellion in the Garden of Eden, the curse entered and we were cut off from perfect intimacy with God. This was the ultimate social distancing. On this side of heaven, we can certainly “know God” through His Son, Jesus, but there is social distancing. But, a day is coming. The Bible’s comforting words to believers: “We will see His face.” (Rev 22:3-4). The social distancing will end. The masks will come off. On that day, we will enjoy perfect intimacy with our Creator and one another. We’ll even hug. Perhaps the band, America, was on to something when they sang, “Don't give up until you drink from the silver cup. And ride that highway in the sky.” Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. It was a normal day in the life of a 17-year-old. I was doing my own thing, living my own life. The phone rang at the house. In a strong Italian accent, I heard, “Wayne! No hotta watah. It’s the watah heateh, the elementa.”
It was my grandfather on the phone. I called him papa. He was about 89 at the time. My papa and noni came into the U.S. in 1919 from Italy and eventually migrated down to Hialeah, Florida. He spoke English well, but just had a strong accent. Papa and I had a special relationship. I admired him and I always knew that he loved me and was proud of me. I enjoyed being with him and learning things from him. As I listened to papa on the phone, I was trying to decipher what he was trying to say. I tried to ask for clarification, but he was a little hard of hearing and didn’t do well on the phone. Finally, I was able to figure out that he had no hot water at the house and the issue was the hot water heater. At the time, I worked at an electrical supply house, but knew very little about actual electricity. However, papa asked for me to come and I headed over. Once at papa’s, he walked me outside to a garage where the water heater was located. He said, “the hot watah heateh is no working. He then pointed to a cover plate on the unit and said, “the elementa.” “Oh, the element,” I thought. “That’s what he is saying. He thinks it’s the element.” He showed me how to drain the heater, remove the cover plate, locate and remove the element. I was curious how he knew that was the issue, but I respectfully headed to the hardware store to get a new one. In a short time, I replaced it, turned the water back on, and it worked like a charm! I was thrilled. As a 17-year-old, I had no idea how he knew what the problem was, but he knew. He was kind of like that. Papa knew a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff. He was a hard worker. As a product of the Great Depression, he was very frugal. I remember him doing odd jobs on the home and as a jack of all trades. He was still trying to get onto the roof of his home when he was in his 80s. I have many wonderful memories of my papa and think about him often. I wish I had learned more from him. Kids just have their own agenda and do their own thing. Only when we get older do we look back and wish we could have changed a few things. I know have a grandson of my own. He, too, calls me me papa. I’m truly blessed in that I get a chance to see him several days a week. Having a child around the house is challenging, to say the least. After raising four kids, I thought my wife and I were finally empty nesters, but that’s not the case. Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s always filled with energy and always wants to play. We have toys laying around the house and watch shows like Puppy Dog Pals, Roadster Racers, and Bluey. I’m glad that he enjoys coming over and we have a great relationship. Like a typical papa, I at times, spoil him something terrible. Nothing melts my heart more than hearing, “papa” from his lips. “Do you want to come in the pool papa?” he said playfully as he splashed around. I had just gotten home. Now, I’m not really a “pool person”. I grew up in Miami and had a pool growing up. To make matters worse, the pool that mama and papa got him is only 10-foot round and 30 inches deep. There is no actual swimming in this pool. I was resistant to join him. “Pweese,” he begged, giving me the sad face. Now, I’ve got a million things to work on, but five minutes later, I am in the pool and he and I are swimming away from the sharks, whirlpools, and tornadoes and having battles with the squirt guns. I realize my time with him is limited. Nothing is stable. I am enjoying the time. Although I am extremely busy, and there’s never a dull moment, one of the things that I’ve tried to do is say “yes” to him when I have every reason to say no. “Do you want to play Minecraft?” he asks as I sit on the couch perusing a book for an upcoming study. “Yes,” I say. There are times when he plays Minecraft on his handheld or on the game system, but that’s not what he’s talking about. He has quite the imagination and loves to make up games. He wants us to actually be the characters in Minecraft. The main character in the game is Steve who walks around and builds stuff. So, he and I, are both named Steve. “What should we do, Steve?” I ask. “Let’s go in the portal, Steve,” he says. For the next twenty minutes, or so, we’ll walk around the house and play Minecraft trying not to get killed by the zombies. He makes sure I get all the verbiage correct and that I’m faithful to the rules of the game. Pause” he says as I’m sitting on the couch. We’ve learned that when he says, pause, we’re supposed to freeze exactly where we are and not be cognizant of anything he’s doing while in this frozen state. Then, while we’re paused, he will move our arms around, put our finger in our own nose, or put objects in our hands. “Un-pause,” he says. At that point, we are supposed to be surprised at our unpleasant demise. For him, it never gets old. I have to cut him off at about thirty-seven times. BURRRRP. I couldn’t believe what came out of a six-year-old (think Elf and Pepsi). Laughing hysterically, he says, “That was a really big burp!” Triumphantly he asks, “Did I sound like a dinosaur?” “You did,” I said chuckling, “But, buddy, we need to practice good manners. “Excuse me,” he said. I try not to laugh uncontrollably. “Hey, buddy, do you want to make a movie?” Puzzled, he answered, “what kind of movie?” “You know,” I said excitedly, “I’ll just use my phone to record us doing something fun and we’ll make it into a movie!” He was all in and moments later, in interview style, I say, “today is [day/date] and we’re talking about what we did today.” We then shared the events of the day and I asked him to conclude with a short story that he had made up while we were in the pool. To be honest, I did have ulterior motives for making the video. Time passes so quickly and he’s growing up so fast. One of the things I wish I had was a way to remember my papa. That option doesn’t exist. But, one of the things that I can do is help my grandson remember our time together. He doesn’t know it, but I plan on uploading these short videos to a YouTube channel that he’ll have access to when he gets older. So, in a sense, we’re making movies and memories. I’m sure, as he gets older, he won’t always be as excited to see papa. But one day, when I’m gone, he might want to reminisce about some of the fun times we had together. In addition to the fun times, I also look forward to sharing important information with him—like how much I love him, how proud I am of him, and how my ultimate desire is for him to know and serve the Lord, and that I’ll be waiting for him in heaven. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. There’s a lot of people I want to meet in heaven. Naturally, number one on the list is seeing Jesus face-to-face. But, I’d also like to meet some of the folks in the Bible like Moses, David, and Paul.
Although it’s down the list, I’d like to meet the first person who decided to manicure their lawn and say, “Hey, I’m on to something. Let’s see if the Jones’ can keep up.” I’d like to ask that person, “What in the world were you thinking?” It’s no secret that I’m just not a fan of lawn maintenance. I do so begrudgingly. One particular Saturday, I was outside mowing in the 90 degree-plus temperatures. It was being baked by the sun, sweating profusely, and extremely uncomfortable. There were a dozen other things I’d rather be doing. As I continued, I heard behind me what sounded like a beep. For a moment, I wondered if, delirious from the heat, I had wandered off course and ended up in the street. I turned my head toward the sound to find a woman who had pulled up next to me in her car and stopped. I was intrigued and figured she wanted directions. She rolled down her passenger window and invited me over. To my surprise, she handed me an extra-large, ice cold soft drink and said, “My husband attends your church quite often, but I attend elsewhere. I do enjoy the chance to come once in a while and watch online. I just saw you out here and wanted to bring you something to drink.” I’ve always preferred to be a giver and have a hard time accepting. I accepted the drink graciously and thanked her profusely. It was the highlight of my day. Apparently, she drove by one time and saw me struggling in the heat, decided to drive back into town, get me a drink, and then come deliver it to me curbside. I was delighted and overwhelmed by her act of kindness and generosity. That day I was rehydrated by the drink and my faith in humanity was refreshed. I came inside bragging to my wife of this woman’s act of kindness. The next morning at church, I was still thinking about it when I looked down at my hand and realized something was wrong. Although I had all my fingers, something was missing. It took only a brief moment to realize, “My ring was gone!” Rats—not again! By “not again,” I mean, a couple of years ago, I hurt my ring finger and it swelled up. I really thought the swelling would go down in a day, but it didn’t. In fact, my finger got to the point where my ring was getting tight. My wife took one look and was very concerned. “You better get that ring off,” she pleaded, “You could lose your finger!” I tried using every means to get it off. I used soap, olive oil, and even that dental floss trick I saw on YouTube to try and get it off—nothin’ doin. It was stuck. A friend of mine suggested going to the fire station—that they might be able to cut it off. The folks at the fire station were extremely helpful and friendly. Glancing down at my hand, the firefighter said, “You need to get that ring off! “Yeah, that’s what my wife said, too” I responded. Thankfully, he was able to cut it off and the swelling in my finger went down in a couple of days. At that time, I decided that maybe it was time to think about a different style of ring. I decided to try a Tungsten ring. I wanted something simple and dark. I sized my finger, ordered the ring, and got it in about a week. One minor problem. It was a little looser than the last one. I figured that maybe it was because of the swelling in my knuckle. I never dreamed it would come off, but there I was looking down at my ringless finger exclaiming, “Rats, not again!” In addition to mowing the day before, I had put on garden gloves to pull weeds and rake leaves. After church I checked all the areas I had worked. No sign of the ring. My guess is that either it was laying in the yard—or it was in one of the eight or so garbage bags that went into the dumpster. I was a little bummed, but decided to have some fun and put it out there on social media saying something like, “Wife number 1: going on ring number 3.” I got a lot of great, humorous comments back. But one friend wrote, “Hey, I have a metal detector and can bring it over.” “What a great idea!” I thought. He came over and gave me the rundown on his metal detector. He was no amateur. He had the knowledge and the device and was a true pro. He said that with his detector he could tell the difference between a pop top and a penny. He could even tell how deep the object was. “If your ring is here,” he said, “this thing will find it.” I was pretty excited, but explained to him that I did not have a clue of where it might be—or if it was even in the yard. But, I did point out the major areas where I had worked. He grabbed his detector, put on the headphones, and went to work. As he searched, I had wonderful memories of my Uncle Don who had a metal detector back in the day. I was just a kid but loved to hang out with him and look for stuff. He even let me try it out. I hadn’t thought about that in years and the memories of my Uncle Don were pleasant. Like a seasoned investigator, my friend kept looking, diligently scouring over every inch of the yard—several times. But, unfortunately, no ring. I explained to him that I probably lost it in one of the numerous trash bags that were taken to the dumpster already. It was gone. He felt terrible for not being able to find it. I honestly just appreciated his deep kindness to even come over and try! I also enjoyed the fellowship and the trip down memory lane. A couple of days later, he called to say that he dropped an envelope by the house. Inside was a note that said how bad he felt for not being able to find the ring and a gift that he said he and his wife wanted me to have to help me get a new ring! I was floored and called as soon as I could. I protested, “Seriously, you did all you could and I’m thankful that you even came over to try. I had a great time and enjoyed some wonderful memories of my uncle. I’m the one who lost the ring!” I protested. “I know,” he said, “but my wife and I just wanted to be able to bless you in this way.” I’m not often speechless, but I didn’t know what to say. In surrender, I acknowledged, “That is so kind and I am so deeply appreciative.” I put the note on the refrigerator and ordered ring number 3—one half size smaller this time. The new ring looks great and fits perfectly! I prefer to be a giver and extend generosity to those around me as opportunity arises. But, sometimes, we need to be able to receive too. I love my new ring and whenever I look at it, I remember that wonderful day and the kindness and generosity of two people who recognized an opportunity to make a difference in this world. Kindness really does have a ring to it. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. I handed my research paper to my professor with a confident grin. I had worked on the paper for days and was confident that it was a masterpiece! Although only in my first year of college, I knew that my professor would be impressed and would likely frame my paper and use it as an example for future students.
Like a child anxiously awaiting Christmas morn, I couldn’t wait to get my graded paper back. On the fateful day, when class was over, he handed them out. Something was terribly wrong. All I could figure was he made a grievous error and inadvertently given me the wrong paper back. I could tell it was the wrong paper because this one had red marks all over it! I checked the cover sheet for the proper student and there it was—my name! Taken aback and a little embarrassed, I decided not to examine my paper on the spot. I stowed it away and headed home. Upon arrival, I carefully examined the paper, surprised to find notable errors all throughout. There were misspelled words, wrong punctuation, and poor writing techniques. Some of these were obvious. Others were new to me. He made notes like, “This is passive language,” “Your verb here is not in agreement,” and “Use a comma in your footnote rather than a period.” At first, I was taken aback. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I also wondered if I was really cut out for college. But rather than getting bitter, I decided to get better. I accepted the criticism and decided to learn from it. Twenty-five years later, I’m still learning. A couple of weeks ago, I was telling a friend of an issue, years earlier, where someone was critical toward me on social media. He was surprised and said, “Wow, I never knew you needed such thick skin to be a pastor.” I laughed and said something like, “Pastors need a big heart and tough skin…kind of like a bighearted rhino.” All of us face some type of criticism from time to time. It’s not unique to any profession or person. I don’t believe that any of us like to be criticized. Instead, we avoid it. When criticism manifests its ugly head, we bristle up in anger or retreat into isolation—or a combination of both. Now, to be honest, some people just have the spiritual gift of criticism and were born to fight. They’re not looking for resolution and don’t believe in win/win. They just enjoy fighting. People who are overly critical generally operate from a heart filled with pain. Their critical spirit helps them feel better about themselves. Sometimes, it’s just best to not invite these people into your life. But for the most part, most people are not like that. Most people criticize out of love or concern. Over time, I’ve learned to embrace criticism as a gift. I’ve learned a couple of things about criticism over the years. Within each piece of criticism there is an element of truth. As a pastor for years, I have the privilege to talk to lots of different people. Everyone has their own opinion that is shaped by their own perspective and environment. But everyone has something to offer. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. If someone says to me, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you…I didn’t like it when you…,” I close my mouth, make solid eye contact, smile, and listen closely. I try to remember that, valid or not, they truly believe what they are saying. Generally, the altercation will fall into three categories. First, there are times when it was simply a misunderstanding. In these situations, I may have been misquoted, someone just did not hear correctly, or got the wrong impression. I apologize that they were hurt and that I was not clear enough or gave the wrong impression. I tell them that I appreciate their honesty and the strength that it took to be transparent with their feelings and that I’m glad we could “clear the air.” Second, there are other times, when I was just wrong. I made the wrong decision or did not think through something and made a mistake. During these times, I confess my error, ask for forgiveness, and tell them I will work on making necessary adjustments. This is not the time for me to point out their faults. I am only the student. I thank them for confronting me and allowing me the opportunity for growth. Finally, there are times when I was right in what I did or said, but they just didn’t like it. In these instances, I kindly reiterate my position, offer the necessary evidence for my stance, and apologize that their feelings were hurt. Although I may feel bad when people are hurt, I will not compromise what I believe to be truth. They’ll have to see my supervisor on that one. In each case, I strive to learn something. Even in times when I was right, I wonder if I could have been more loving and kind and approached it differently. Oftentimes, the answer is yes. The Bible says, “Speak the truth in love” (Eph 4:15). Love must be the ultimate motivation. With criticism comes knowledge and growth. As an Associate Professor of speech, through the years, I have reminded my students that criticism is not a bad word. Criticism, done properly (often called constructive criticism), illuminates our imperfections and allows us to make corrections. Every single semester, my students are required to do peer evaluations—to point out what their peers did well and could have done better in their speech. They are also responsible to do a personal evaluation where they watch their own speech and offer a personal critique. Both are extremely painful, but both are essential for growth—kind of like surgery. The knowledge gained from these times of criticism is extremely beneficial for the future. I’ve had many students have that “aha” moment when watching themselves on video. Experience is the best teacher. As the young protégé asked his mentor, “How do I learn to make good decisions? The teacher replied, “By making lots of bad decisions and learning from them.” Criticism opens the door for reconciliation. While it’s true that some people are unkind and prefer to throw rocks on social media while hiding behind a keyboard, criticism, offered for the right reasons, can be an agent for introspection and transformation. The overall goal should be love and harmony. The Bible says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another” (Prov 27:17). I have a friend who used to say, “Don’t go away mad. Just go away.” As humorous as that appears, anger causes pain and isolation. It’s a lose/lose scenario. Rather, reconciliation and restoration should be the ultimate goal. The Bible says, “If anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness” (Gal 6:1). Obviously, none of us are perfect. That’s why God sent Jesus. If you think you are, your issue is simple—pride and arrogance. If you’d like to know what your imperfections are, ask several friends, “What do you think are my three greatest weaknesses?” Criticism done properly and received properly can be a wonderful gift. It tears down walls and opens the door for growth and reconciliation. Although it hurt at the time, I’m thankful for that research paper that was full of red marks. It helped me to become a better researcher and writer. It also helped me to become a better professor. Now, when grading papers, I use constructive criticism, positive reinforcement, specific examples, and, one more thing: I use purple ink. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. I stole the title of my article from a book written by Neil Postman in 1985. I read it in 2008 as a graduate student at UCM completing a degree in speech communication. It was required reading for the class, Modern Rhetorical Theory. I was curious why our professor would require a book from 1985 to discuss “modern” rhetorical theory, but it was a game changer for me.
Postman was a brilliant communication scholar, social scientist, and had the unique ability to predict the future. In his introduction, Postman referenced the book by George Orwell entitled, “1984.” You may remember it. In his book, Orwell predicted an imaginary future in which the world had fallen prey to constant war, government surveillance and control, and propaganda. Writing in 1985 (the year after 1984), Postman joked that Americans were thrilled that Orwell’s prophecy did not come true and that 1984 came and went without incident. But then he reminded the reader of an older, slightly less known book, Aldous Huxley’s, “Brave New World” written in 1932. Most people assumed that the two authors wrote about the same thing, but they did not. They arrived at the same destination—one of undesired control—but they both took different routes to get there. Postman’s introductory notes are brilliant and chilling and I’ll quote him at length. He wrote, “Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity, and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression and to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think. What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance.” I get chills when I read that. One of the interesting things about Postman’s comments were the fact that they were written in the mid 80s-long before the Internet. The concept for the Internet was realized early in the 1960s when a researcher at MIT conceptualized an “Intergalactic Network” of computers. His dream became a reality in the late 1960s with the “ARPANET” or the Advanced Research Projects Agency Network—funded by the U.S. Department of Defense. Still, what we know as the World Wide Web did not come into creation until 1990. And the rest is history (I kind of feel like a reference to Skynet, artificial intelligence, and the Terminator should be included in there somewhere). Postman’s main point was that people would become overwhelmed and not think anymore—at least not with their brains. He compared our society to the “early days” of the colonists. He wrote of a time in history when folks would come out in groves to hear the Lincoln/Douglas debates—spending hours listening to them banter. People also discussed pertinent issues of the day like history, religion, philosophy, and politics. Their social experiences were integrated with education. People were informed and intelligent. Think about today’s society. According to a study by the Woodrow Wilson National Fellowship Foundation, only one out of three Americans could actually pass the US citizenship test if required. The test asks some of the most basic questions about our nation’s history and system of government. For example, 72% could not identify the thirteen original colonies. 24% could not correctly identify one thing Benjamin Franklin was famous for—37% mistakenly believed he invented the lightbulb. 76% did not know why the colonists fought the British. 12% thought General Dwight Eisenhower led troops in the Civil War. Another 6% thought it was the Vietnam War. 2% believed that climate change caused the Cold War. As a society, we’re not unintelligent, we’re just misinformed and misdirected. According to a 2018 study by Claims Conference, 22% of millennials did not know what the Holocaust was. Overall, 10% of adults do not know. Scarier still, according to the Pew Research Center, 25% of Americans believe Hitler came into power in Berlin through a violent coup. Only 43% of respondents knew that Hitler came to power by democratic means. As George Santayana said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." As time has marched on and society has changed, we have lost, or as Postman suggests, surrendered our ability to think logically and critically. We are a mass of sheep, surrounded by wolves, in need of a shepherd. Postman suggests that one of the problems is “how” we get our information. It’s the delivery mechanism. In days of old, people listened or read material and were able to remember and analyze it. They were able to think critically. Today, our society is driven by visual images and catchy phrases that are available on multiple platforms. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. Even in elections. People don’t vote based upon what they know but based upon what they feel. They don’t have the time, energy, or desire to study the facts. So, people vote based upon their emotions and sound bites. We can’t handle a meal. We just want a nibble. My grandson is six and like most kids, has a short attention span and loves to play. He especially loves Minecraft and Mario. He is not always thrilled with, as he puts it, “learning stuff.” Like most parents and grandparents, we limit his “screen time” when he comes over. Naturally, we give him plenty of options to which he sometimes replies, “It’s boring.” The interesting thing is, after we begin to read or play—or whatever, his imagination comes alive and he enjoys it tremendously. But once he gets a screen in his hand, it’s off to the land of Steve, zombies, and virtual entertainment where there is always a next level to conquer. Most adults are not much better. According to the Entertainment Software Association, 65% of adults play video games. According to Medical News Today, the average American gamer is a 35-year-old adult. Games aren’t “bad”, but scientists have proven that they do rewire our brains and are addictive. Entertainment has its place but should not have the main place. Many Americans say, “I’ve overwhelmed, I just need to relax,’ and want to be amused by Candy Crush, Netflix, or the Hallmark Channel. The problem with choosing amusement over education is the destiny. As I read through social media posts from time to time, I’m amazed and even frightened at what some people believe, but I’m not surprised. According to a 2017 Pew Research Center study, about 50% of U.S. adults get their “news” regularly from television. The other half get their information from other sources like talk shows or comedians, social media platforms, or from peers. “Did you see that story on Facebook?” is a common line. The credible newspaper of old has given way to the digital sensationalism of new and we’re paying the price. In addition, all the sheep are headed in different directions. That’s because our “reality” is shaped by what news agency we watch. My guess is that you watch a particular news entity because you believe they tell you the truth—and the others, you feel, are lying or have an agenda. That information shapes your reality. All of us are getting bits and pieces of the puzzle, but rarely seeing the entire image. That would involve additional research and critical thinking. We’re overwhelmed with information. Here’s a bit of free advice from one who worked in media. Any media outlet has one main goal: attract advertisers and stay on the air. “If it bleeds—it leads” is a common theme which means that a station’s lead off story better have something to attract viewers. It’s always “late breaking” or “this just in” or “killer hornets.” And, don’t blame the media. They just feed us what we like. We all complain on the highway that traffic is crawling because of a wreck and all of the “rubberneckers” ahead who want to look. But, then when we reach the site, we can’t help but look—and then tell someone else “Man, did you see that wreck!” In 1985, Postman was able to paint a portrait of what we’re seeing today. A world where people are overwhelmed with information—but can’t think for themselves. A world where people prefer amusement over entertainment. This article was written not for your entertainment, but for your consideration. As my friend, Neo in the Matrix said, “I don't know the future. I didn't come here to tell you how this is going to end. I came here to tell you how it's going to begin.” Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. by Wayne Geiger She was a trophy wife—but always on the lookout for a better display shelf. All the men in town knew her and loved to watch her walk by. All the women avoided her—and kept their husbands close by. She had been married five times and was apparently grooming number six. She wasn’t looking for Mr. Right, but Mr. Happiness.
It was the hottest part of the day, and yet, she came out to the well in her city, Sychar in Samaria, to draw water. Most of the women came to draw water in the cool of the day. It was a social event where they would often catch up on the latest gossip. She wasn’t invited and was likely shunned by the group. She didn’t know it, but on this particular day, she had a divine appointment with the Son of God. She was His noon appointment that day. Jesus came to the well and asked her for a drink. She was spunky and had attitude. Her response was anything but cordial or respectful. She chided, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria? For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.” She did have a point. She was alluding to a long history of hatred between the Jews and the Samaritans. At one time, they were one people. But that was a long time ago. It’s a long story of brothers who ended up drifting apart and hating one another. The Jews would say of the Samaritans, “They ain’t like us.” The short story is, both groups were “sons and daughters of Abraham” and lived together in “one land.” But, tension arose, and they divided into two kingdoms: north and south. The north became known as Samaria and the south, Judah. They were divided by geography and religion. In 722 BC, Samaria was invaded by the nation of Assyria. Many people living in the north were deported while some Assyrians were brought in to integrate with those who were allowed to remain in the land. Assyria knew that intermarriage would help integrate the people into the Assyrian kingdom and culture. Fast forward to Jesus’s time and the people of the north had lost their true blood lineage. The Jews in the south considered the northerners “half breeds.” They were half child of Abraham and have other stuff they didn’t like. There was an incredible amount of hatred, anger, and racism between the two, neighboring communities. In fact, the Jews would do everything they possibly could to avoid walking through Samaria. If Jews had to pass through a Samaritan village, they would literally, “shake the dust from their feet.” In this beautiful story, Jesus crosses geographical, cultural, and religious barriers to offer this woman, “living water.” After one sip, she was satisfied. And the walls came tumbling down. A loving Father and a good drink have a way of doing that. We’ve created a lot of great things in America, but as you can see, we didn’t invent racism. It’s as old as man himself and exists in every culture and every people group. We’re struggling with the issue of racism in our country—and have for some time. For the last decade, I have taught college classes in communication. Every semester, I show Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s, “I Have a Dream” speech which was delivered at our nation’s capital in 1963. I show the speech because it is masterfully written, is full of emotion, beautiful imagery, and crafted using airtight logic. In addition, the message of ending racism needs to be heard again and again. I don’t have the space to work through the entire speech, so I’ll hit the highlights. King’s “dream” is founded upon the American dream. It’s a dream of a better life—a better existence—for everyone. The dream is not ethereal and irrational. It is foundational and logical. King strategically quotes several documents. As a preacher, he quotes extensively from the Bible. He recognized that all people were created in the image of God and have equal value and tremendous worth. God’s desire is that people would love one another. In addition to the Bible, King references the Emancipation Proclamation stating, “this momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice.” One does not throw the term, “injustice” around lightly. To claim injustice means that someone or something has departed from that which is just—or right. His claim is that one-hundred years later, it’s an historical document, but nobody’s doing what it says. King also references the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. These documents, he said, were designed to be “a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” I always make sure to point out the financial imagery weaved through the speech because if you don’t understand that, the speech is void of its intended power. King noted that these foundational documents promised great opportunities for all people, but they were just documents when it came to people of color. These documents which provided “the bank of justice” and “great vaults of opportunity,” were not true for people of color. He suggested that America has, in essence, given them, “a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." His cry was not economic. He was not suggesting socialism or quotas, but simply that all people be treated equally and have the same opportunities. In one famous line he said, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” King’s message of equality was one that he hoped would be pursued peacefully. He said, “We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence.” He also realized that the great melting pot must produce one precious metal. When addressing the “whites of the nation” he said, “their destiny is tied up with our destiny…. their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.” We’ve come a long way since 1963. We no longer have segregated eating places, sitting areas, and drinking fountains for different races. But racial tension in our country is still there—even reverse discrimination. Racism should not be tolerated. I am unapologetically pro-law enforcement. I have close family members and friends who protect and serve. They judge people based upon the content of their character. I know their hearts and their stories. I stand with them. I cannot judge, but I will say that in every profession there are those who abuse power and authority. Unfortunately, some of these are in law enforcement. The problem is not law enforcement, but a few individuals. There is great danger in throwing the baby out with the bathwater and thereby undermining and deteriorating the fabric of an organized society. From what I’ve seen on social media, people seem to think that you have to “choose sides.” You have to choose to support the police or the African American community. It’s not about choosing sides. In fact, “sides” are the problem. Whenever you find yourself using language such as “them,” “those people,” or “that group,” you manifest the racial tendencies within you. In your heart, you say, “they ain’t like us.” To talk about “behavior” is another conversation entirely. Those claiming to protest by angrily attempting to hurt officers, citizens, or to ransack and destroy businesses are not protesting. Stealing a television from someone’s business is not a protest. These individuals are committing crimes. They are selfishly using a difficult time in our history to pursue their own evil pursuits. Their actions should not be tolerated. They are no less guilty and should be punished. So, I support law enforcement and I support a nation where we all get along. The only way we’re going to get there is together. We need to change our terminology from “them” to “us”. We’re all is this boat together. A hole on my side of the boat is a hole on your side. One last thought. The framers of our Declaration of Independence wrote, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” If, as they note from the Bible, that “these truths” are “endowed by [our] Creator,” then recognizing His Sovereign, purposeful hand is the best place to start. The Father wants everyone to play nice in the sandbox. As a community, let’s work together to ensure that racism has no place in our halls. The only way to do that is to evaluate our hearts. Let’s sit down at the table of brotherhood and truly listen to one another. Let’s keep the dream alive. When I do my part and you do your part, we will have done our part. Dr. Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech, and freelance writer. |
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