Today is Reformation Day, which commemorates Martin Luther’s action in nailing the Ninety-Five Theses to the church door at Wittenberg on October 31, 1517. Little did he know how the Lord would use him to ignite a movement that would change the world. This was, indeed, a very big deal–one of those “hinges” in history that we talk about.
Here’s Kevin DeYoung’s take on the glory of the Reformation and the importance of a clean conscience.
I interrupted my October scary-movie line-up to watch Luther (2003) starring Joseph Fiennes (and an excellent cast of British and German actors) as this is my new tradition. I highly recommend it. You can also watch Ligonier’s “Luther: The Life and Legacy of the German Reformer” on YouTube:
Here are 5 Things you Should Know about Martin Luther. And if you thought the RC veneration of relics was a thing of the past, you are quite wrong.
Well, I will drink a beer in honor of old Martin Luther tonight because that seems appropriate.
In other news, we turned on the heat because it turned frigid over the weekend.
I guess fall is (almost) over.
*Here I stand, I can do no other.” (Martin Luther)
It was a dark, rainy fall weekend and the wee bud had a bye in his soccer team’s schedule, so you will not be getting my usual repetitive weekend wrap-up. Go ahead and sigh with relief, oh loyal readers.
We did, however, arrange to have my large glass doll case moved from my house to daughter #1’s house and that was my major accomplishment of the weekend. Our friends in the crew at Davis Place Estate Sales obliged us and did the heavy lifting and carrying up and down several flights of stairs. I meant to take pictures, but forgot. But here it is home now in daughter #1’s craft room.
Sunday was Reformation Sunday and we sang “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” in church (with trumpet accompaniment) with appropriate gusto. Afterwards we enjoyed total depravity casserole (with tater tots!) at our house and our first fire of the season.
And Halloween Peeps from Aunt Mary!
And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, we will not fear, for God has willed his truth to triumph through us. The prince of darkness grim, we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo! his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.
Happy Friday from daughter #2, with a little life check-in following our update a few months ago. I am happy to report that we are all still so thrilled to be at home together. Today’s happy routine was hard won — Ida did, indeed, have to relearn how to nap, and Katie had to accept that weekdays are still not weekends. For a while there, the girls only slept simultaneously for 10-20 minutes each day. Before long, though, we got into our groove: Ida takes 2 long naps a day, and Katie has an overlapping “quiet time” in the afternoon. (If she doesn’t fall asleep, she happily performs a one-woman-show of musical tunes for her stuffed animals in bed.) While I had imagined that I would need to plan capital-A Activities to keep us all occupied, that is far from true. We do chores together, we go to the park, we eat meals. We cuddle.
Like a lot.
Months 6-9 have been wild for Ida. She has learned how to sit, crawl, stand up while supported, eat solids, and more. She has also learned how to assert herself. While she once sat contentedly passive while her sister ran the show, she will now shriek her demands. Hold me! Feed me! Let me put your shoes in my mouth! I think it’s a good thing. (The assertive nature, not putting shoes in one’s mouth.)
What is family for if not to teach you that the world doesn’t revolve around you alone? Katie has, for the most part, taken this lesson in stride.
Because really, I can’t help but think being home with Ida and me has only amplified Katie’s own motherly, caretaking impulse. Babydoll and Katie’s animals receive around-the-clock attention, carried to and fro, put to bed in their bassinets, diapered and re-diapered, fed nutritious meals etc. While sometimes this can make life a little harder — well no, sweetie, babydoll does not need the highchair that Ida will sit in momentarily; we do not need to give “real food” to Clown Bear, and actually I do need this $0.36 diaper for the actual baby in the room — I also find it very sweet!
And of course, Ida receives ample care from Katie as well. She has an uncanny ability to guess which toy or teether Ida might like in a given moment (I’m serious! There are preferences at play!). She loves to hold Ida and has even, on occasion, been allowed to hold Ida while standing up — it is a sight to behold, as both sisters are grinning and also look like they must be deeply uncomfortable. And Katie loves stroking Ida’s cheeks just as much as I do, which is to say, a lot.
Well I’m not so much providing an update here as veering into weepy mode…
So I’ll try to wrap it up.
Sometimes I imagine what someone might think if they dropped into our house right in the middle of things — me, a grown woman, singing “Hands are for clapping” in complete and utter earnest; a three year old asking for a “way high boost” and executing a cheerleader’s split jump at no apparent prompting when her father lifts her in the air; two adults discussing a clock as if it is a roommate of the toddler’s with functioning eyes and a genuine sleep routine; a baby army crawling through a room and leaving a Godzilla-style wake of destruction through toys, books, and folded laundry (there’s always folded laundry out). It can be quite a scene. But it’s the best.
Recently Sir Michael Caine announced that he is retiring from acting. “I keep saying I’m going to retire. Well I am now,” he said. Thankfully we have all his old movies to watch (and one more new one on the way). Simon Pegg sums up his career rather well:
I read his memoir a few years ago and he is a stand up guy. So hats off to Michael Caine and a toast tonight to his illustrious career. I think I’ll watch Zulu (1964).
Sigh. We are all getting older. Think of the Rolling Stones and ol’ Mick Jagger who is 80. Good grief. Here he is in 1964 making his debut on Ed Sullivan. He was twenty-one.
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.
The days are getting shorter, aren’t they? I hope you are enjoying these wonderful fall days.
Meanwhile, Trevin Wax has been wondering “How can anyone preach Jesus without mentioning judgment? How do you deal with his parables? With his constant and consistent warnings about perdition? With his either-ors and contrasts? Even if you fashion yourself a “red-letter Christian” who waves off Paul and the other apostles, you can’t miss the red letters that warn about destruction and losing your soul, images of a worm that won’t die and a fire that never goes out.”
I have been wondering about that as well–where do people get this idea that Jesus is non-judgmental? In reality he is the mediator and judge of us all. He tells us not to judge, lest we be judged. But make no mistake, we will all be judged by Jesus.
Along those lines, Anne says, “I am always excessively bemused about so many pastor-influencers who purport to speak about a God they insist cannot be known by his own words. How do they know what it means to ‘Follow in the way of Jesus’ when they will not let Jesus have the last, authoritative, and final Word? How can they possibly say what God is like when they reject his Law, his instructions, his precepts, his version of the story? Why does anyone still listen to this?”
They listen because it is what they want to hear. The truth is too hard. It has always been too hard. I am currently reading the book of John in my daily reading and Jesus emphasizes many of his really important statements by starting off with “Most assuredly, I say to you…”. For instance, John 6:53:
“Then Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you.”
You will recall that after this long, difficult section in John 6:53-65, “many of His disciples went back and walked with him no more.” Indeed.
Well, consider this your weekly reminder to read your Bible. Get to know the real Jesus.
And here’s a bonus pic of Katie and Ida in their two little bees finery.
The painting is Autumn Roadside, Kentucky by William Forsyth, 1903
We find ourselves in the last full week of October–zut alors! Have you watched any of your favorite spooky/scary movies? As you know, I am not a fan of the “horror” genre–I saw The Shining (1980) once and that was enough–but I do have my list of Halloween-appropriate gems. Last week I watched Ghostbusters (1984), The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947) and The Birds (1963).
All three were highly satisfactory and not really very scary. Yes, we do not recommend watching The Birds if you are 10 years old and by yourself. If you are an adult and watching with friends/family, you mostly chuckle at Rod Taylor’s bulging cargo pants and Tippi Hendren’s Edith Head-designed green suit, which she wears for three days straight. You can easily avert your eyes when there is a shot of someone with their eyes pecked out. You can also do a lot of talking to the screen: “Don’t leave the phone booth!”; “Don’t go upstairs, you fool!”; “Take the children to the basement, not outside, you morons!”
Indeed, there is plenty to chatter about during this movie. Why is Rod’s mother such a weirdo? “I’m not very strong.” Please! What about those townspeople in the diner voicing their idiotic opinions? Especially that blowhard old lady in the beret, smoking her cigarette. And that mother of two traumatized children who wants a ride out of town from the drunk traveling salesman, what? And let’s not forget the kook who keeps saying, “It’s the end of the world!” (Spoiler alert: it is.)
Anyway, it is that time of year when we indulge in this kind of off-brand movie viewing. Next on the docket are The Uninvited (1944), Signs (2002) and The Sixth Sense (1999) and maybe another Hitchcock classic like Rear Window (1954) just because we like it.
Frankly the world is a scary enough place without watching modern horror movies. Read some history for real horror.
We enjoyed another really beautiful fall flyover weekend. We went to the pumpkin patch at the Methodist Church…
…and Mr. Smith proudly wore his pumpkin suit…
We went to 19North and officially switched back to our red blend for the fall. We asked if we could order french fries off-menu and were told, of course, that was no problem, because “we know someone.” I felt so seen.
On Sunday our church service was held outside on the lawn in front of the youth house.
It was our usual service with music, sermon and communion–I was a doubter, but I really enjoyed sitting in lawn chairs in the beautiful sunshine.
We sang my favorite new hymn, “Come Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy”, and I cried from start to finish. I cannot help myself. Here’s your weekly reminder to repent.
Come, ye weary, heavy laden, lost and ruined by the fall; if you tarry till you’re better, you will never come at all.
After church we had Episcopal Calvinist Souffle, which daughter #1 suggests we call Total Depravity Souffle, and later we went to the wee laddie’s soccer game.
The bud’s team is still undefeated and once again made the opposing team’s goalie cry (he made it to the third quarter at least). This is not due to anything the bud contributes, but at least he can act like Messi after each goal. This time I remembered to take a picture of our favorite coach/photographer.
In addition to all this, I also went to a funeral on Saturday–the 95-year old father of a high school friend. He was like a lot of the fathers I knew growing up. He was the captain of his high school baseball team and the president of his class. He went to Amherst and was the president of his fraternity. He was president of his company. He liked history and singing. He was an all-around good guy, a happy guy who knew that “Every day is the best day” and that God is the author of all things. He was a conservative man whose outspoken daughter must have taxed his soul, but he loved her and they got along despite their differences. He ended up happily living with her the last few years of his life. I mean, that is the ultimate reward–to have children who want you around.
Of course, the ultimate, ultimate reward is to be in heaven with Jesus, and my guess is he is there, having laid down his trophies at last.
His family went to church with me growing up, but I guess after his daughters graduated from high school and the Episcopal Church alienated a goodly portion of their members in the 1970s, he moved to the PCA and was a pillar of the church in which the funeral was held. He figured things out much sooner than I, but we ended up in the same place.
We sang “How Great Thou Art,” “The Old Rugged Cross” and “It Is Well With My Soul” and a bagpipe band piped us out with “Amazing Grace”. He had planned the whole service, scriptures and all. You guessed it; I cried through a lot of it and was undone by the pipers. You can bet I was taking notes!
Well done, good and faithful servant.
And when before the throne I stand in Him complete, “Jesus died my soul to save,” My lips shall still repeat.
Jesus paid it all, All to Him I owe; Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.
The other day, Mr. Smith found an A+ big stick on our walk.
Finding a good stick makes Mr. Smith quelle happy. He gets a little strut and walks home with his head held high, like “Hello, I am King of the neighborhood with my big stick!”
We then sat on the porch so he could play with his stick for a bit. Today, he wanted to carry the stick on our walk and I allowed him. Well, the sight of this cute little dog carrying a big stick down the sidewalk STOPPED TRAFFIC. A lady literally stopped her car and was like, “He sure loves that stick!!” Yes, ma’am, he sure does.
We continue struggling with the idea that while it is okay to chew on a stick, the furniture is not okay to chew. He is also working on understanding that he does not need to bark at the neighbors who have the audacity to walk by our house.
In other news, if, like me, the continued unravelling of the world is stressing you out, I recommend listening to a little Chris Stapleton. His new album comes out November 10 and I, for one, am excited. We haven’t had a new album from Chris since November of 2020!
If Chris Stapleton isn’t your bag (but how could he not be??), whose music is like a balm for your weary soul? Tell us in the comments.
This prayer from The Valley of Vision really convicts:
O CHANGELESS GOD,
Under the conviction of thy Spirit I learn that the more I do, the worse I am, the more I know, the less I know, the more holiness I have, the more sinful I am, the more I love, the more there is to love. O wretched man that I am! O Lord, I have a wild heart, and cannot stand before thee; I am like a bird before a man. How little I love thy truth and ways! I neglect prayer, by thinking I have prayed enough and earnestly, by knowing thou hast saved my soul. Of all hypocrites, grant that I may not be an evangelical hypocrite, who sins more safely because grace abounds, who tells his lusts that Christ’s blood cleanseth them, who reasons that God cannot cast him into hell, for he is saved, who loves evangelical preaching, churches, Christians, but lives unholily. My mind is a bucket without a bottom, with no spiritual understanding, no desire for the Lord’s Day, ever learning but never reaching the truth, always at the gospel-well but never holding water. My conscience is without conviction or contrition, with nothing to repent of. My will is without power of decision or resolution. My heart is without affection, and full of leaks. My memory has no retention, so I forget easily the lessons learned, and thy truths seep away. Give me a broken heart that yet carries home the water of grace.
Time marches on and it is once again the OM’s and my anniversary. As usual, we will be playing it cool and watching Shane (1953).
I feel no need to spend hundreds of dollars on a gourmet meal at a trendy restaurant. Take out from Chick-fil-a or an omelet will be just fine. I may open a bottle of wine that is fancier than our house wine, but maybe not. À chacun le sien.
O gracious and everliving God, you have created us male and female in your image: Look mercifully upon this man and this woman who come to you seeking your blessing, and assist them with your grace, that with true fidelity and steadfast love they may honor and keep the promises and vows they make; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
–BCP, The Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage, 1979
Well, I’m an old lady now and this is with whom I identify these days. “Morals over Hussies.”
Granny: “A vegan and a vegetarian are jumping off a cliff to see who hits the bottom first.”
dual personalities 