Hate in the name of God

Some folks are so convinced they are doing God's work they probably expect God to say something like this when they finally do meet Him: "Fred, thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done without you down there doing my work. Why, because of you, we don't even need to hold Judgment Day. You already have it all figured out. Holding a Judgment Day now would be an anti-climax. You saved me a lot of work."

I will not dignify the man and his church with a link, but should you want to look at his site or read what others say about him, all you need to do is Google: "Fred Phelps" and/or "Westboro Baptist Church, Topeka, KS" you will find plenty of information. The Westboro Baptist Church can be found at www.godhatesfags.com.

I was not aware of this man before today. I was reading an article on Michelle Malkim's site about a group of folks who are showing up at the funerals of US servicemen and disrupting things. I was appalled at the thought of someone who felt their cause was so worthy, it was OK to harass a family at their lowest moment and time of deepest grief.

I was curious when I found out the man was a Baptist pastor and his entire message was all about hating "fags" as he refers to homosexuals. He even has a clock on his website showing how many days Matthew Shepard has been in hell.

I won't reiterate everything here, but do read the Michelle Malkin article to see what counter protestors are doing to protect the families. Also, look at Fred Phelps and get a taste of his views.

Fred is preaching a message of hate. He hates homosexuals so much, he views everything through that particular filter. He says Hurricane Katrina was God's judgment. He says every soldier killed in Iraq is God's judgment and it is all because of homosexuals.

He is more dangerous than an Archie Bunker type who pontificates in his living room in front of his television. Fred Phelps rallies others to take action. What a waste of time and energy.

A pastor leads a flock of people. He sets an agenda and helps determine priorities. Many churches in our area are about helping people build homes, find jobs, and recover from the hurricane. If Fred were in town, he would be in the Wal-Mart parking lot screaming about how Katrina is God's judgment and it is all because of homosexuals.

My psychiatric training makes me wonder why he is so against homosexuality. It would not surprise me if he was a closet queen. But I digress.

Singling out homosexuality as THE sin is to ignore other aspects of an individual. Fred may not be a homosexual, but maybe he gossips. Gossip is a sin too. Should we refer to Fred as a gossip and ignore everything else about him?

We have all experienced hate and love. I don't know about you, but love is by far the strongest and most healing of the two. Hate serves no good purpose. Love uplifts and energizes while hate pushes down and deflates. A minister pushing a message of hate at best is misinformed and ignorant; at worst, he is an evil man.

I also thought of Gamaliel. Gamaliel was a Jewish leader. In the book of Acts 5:33-40, he intervened when the Sanhedrin was about to put the Apostle Peter and others to death for preaching the Gospel. Gamaliel's speech went something like this: "Look fellas, people have sprung up from time to time with different teachings, they last for a while, then go away. These guys will suffer a similar fate if their teaching is of man, BUT if they are of God, then you could be fighting against God yourselves. My advice is leave them alone and see what happens." They took Gamaliel's advice.

I believe that God is in control. He does not need me to run around pronouncing judgment on folks. People wind up doing that to themselves. I am not advocating turning a blind eye to the world, but the hate of Fred Phelps goes beyond taking a stand.

The world is already a hard place where hate has a firm footing. Preaching hate in the name of God is just more of the same. However, showing love in the name of God is an altogether different matter. This is the stuff transformations are all about.

There is more power in an open hand offered in love than there is in a fist clenched in rage.

Until the next time
John Strain

Putting it all together

A friend of mine was away from his family for Christmas so I volunteered to assemble the portable basketball goal he bought his son.

I am pretty mechanical and get some measure of satisfaction taking a box full of pieces and parts and converting them into whatever it is said parts are supposed to resemble. Men are notorious for not reading the instructions, but I am different. Maybe it is because I have been burned enough times, but I have learned my lesson. I at least start with the directions.

The assembly manual at first glance looked like a phone book for a medium sized town, but that is because it was written in 29 different languages. Thankfully, the English version was in the front. My prediction is that, in the future, the PC police will say putting the English version in front of the manual, might offend someone speaking Martian so the only fair way is to put the languages in alphabetical order. It is only a matter of time.

The manual was poorly written. My guess is the technical writer who put the instructions together finished low in his class. There were very few words and only a few small illustrations. I had to stare at the diagrams quite a while before I "got it," but I completed the task with only 4 nuts and bolts to spare. I hope they weren't important.

One of the inevitable things I seem to do is get something assembled, in this case the rim, then find a part that requires I disassemble it all to put the part where it is supposed to go. All in all, it went together pretty well, just slow. If I had another one to put together, I could do it in an hour instead of the 8 hours it took me.

What would Christmas be without putting something together? Probably a lot more relaxing, ha. I suppose my days of putting things together on Christmas Day are mostly behind me. My son has that to look forward to when he is a dad. Like most stages in life, they are often a hassle at the time, but longed for when they are gone. We people are a fickle lot.

But for now, things seem pretty well put together.

Until the next time
John Strain

Merry Christmas

Any belief system worth its salt will see you through the tough times. For Gregory Scott of New Orleans, it looks like he has one.

Merry Christmas to all.

Until the next time
John Strain

Katrina or not, bonfires will guide Papa Noel to Louisiana bayous

(AP) On Saturday evening, the Mississippi River in bayou country will look much as it has in more than a century of Christmas Eves _ with miles of massive bonfires on the levee tops showing Papa Noel, the south Louisiana Santa Claus, the way to children's homes. Read the rest of the article.

My 2003 post about the levee bonfires

Merry Christmas from Louisiana. We are doing just fine. The birth of Christ is much bigger than a hurricane and even more important. Christ is the light of the world. Tonight on the Mississippi River levee between New Orleans and Baton Rouge, bonfires will light up the darkness to help Papa Noel find the children on the bayous.

More than two thousand years ago Jesus was born; He brought light into a dark world and He brings light in to the darkness of our own lives.

His Spirit energizes and gives us the strength to stand up and rebuild what is broken. We still have a long task before us, but along the way we will take time to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Life is good with Him in it.

Yes sir, we'll be just fine.

Merry Christmas to all. Thank you for reading my stories and leaving your comments and encouragements. May this season be a good time for you and your loved ones and may the New Year also be filled with new challenges, good health, and happiness.

Until the next time
John Strain

A Runner's Soul

I came across this while looking for a 50 mile race to run next fall. It breaks my heart.

Darcey Wakefield died December 12, 2005 at age 35 from ALS.
Wakefield taught English at Southern Maine Community College and
published two books, including I Remember Running: The Year I Got
Everything I Ever Wanted -- and ALS.

Her essay:
"I remember running like I remember the sun-filled beach days of my
childhood. I remember running like many remember their first love
their first kiss, their wedding. I remember running and feel the ache
of absence, the heavy reminder that my life will never be the same
again. I am continuously mourning running..."

"Even though I no longer run, I still have a runner's soul. It's
trapped in a runner's body that won't run. My runner's soul longs to
work off the stress of my recent diagnosis and the stress of not
running with a good run. It doesn't yet understand what has happened
to us. These days I try to take pleasure in what now substitutes for
running in my life. The other night, something told me to go down to
the beach, and I did, even though it was late and dark. The beach was
hard and smooth because the tide was out, and something told me to
run. I ran around and around in circles. If you'd seen me, you
wouldn't have called what I was doing running, but it was good enough
for me. This is what I thought that night as I gave thanks: We are so
lucky to be able to do this, all of our nerves and muscles working
together, as we move ourselves forward to do this thing we call
running."

She is survived by her parents, her brother and sister, her partner Steve Stout, and their son, Sam.

NPR Broadcast: Darcy in her own words

Darcy's book "I Remember Running: The year I got everything I ever wanted-and ALS"

Count your blessings.

Until the next time
John Strain