Truth wins out

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)

Truth wins out

Every day another iteration of my “common” cold whacks me in the head. A little fever, a little sneezing, a little folding of the hands to rest. Yesterday as evening approached my nose refused to stop running. The barometer is dropping, the temperature will drop from 73 to 31 overnight. Or further.

So perhaps the new freezing temps will freeze my cold. I hope so! I had so many interesting conversations yesterday, and there will be more today. There are five weddings at Danville Correctional Center awaiting officiation. That’s me, the official Marrying Sam. Each of these weddings deserves the utmost attention from my nose, along with the rest of me.

My brother John and sister Mary Kay and I spent a couple hours with our farm adviser in Lincoln yesterday morning. Van our adviser wore a sweet Hawaiian shirt, reminding us and himself that he’ll be back there one of these days, lying in his backyard hammock, whistling Dixie, eyes closed against the mid-Pacific sun, loving his wife and loving his life. He has earned the right to be heard in our lives, after three decades of showing us a variety of ways to stay afloat as farmers.

In India my friend Chris is writing an 8000 word essay on discerning “truth.” He also wrote a poem, which he allows me to share:

Why am I me

And you you

 

Is it something I did

or something you do?

 

You are an unwanted Pharoh’s son

fleeing from a power-hungry brother

condemned to live in fear of your kin

But you are not me

 

You are a day laborer in Punjab

making just enough in the day to fill your belly and your thirst

trapped in your daily addiction

but you are not me

 

You are a small girl born on an island in the wilderness

blamed for your departed mom

surrounded by nothing but brothers

But you are not me

 

If you were me

And I was you

Would you be you or me

Would I be me or you

 

Could I be you?

What even would I do?

 

“What is truth?” Pilate asked. Jesus’ silence spoke volumes. But Chris needs 7990 more words to continue the discussion. By Friday. I hope he includes the poem.

I had dinner last night with Marc and two of his friends. I am a generation or two apart from them, and it was a surprise to discover that our emotions, running the gamut from joy to despair, have been the same in every generation.

The people of Judah and the citizens of Jerusalem said,

“Come, let us contrive a plot against Jeremiah.

It will not mean the loss of instruction from the priests,

nor of counsel from the wise, nor of messages from the prophets.

And so, let us destroy him by his own tongue;

let us carefully note his every word.”

Couldn’t this plot have been hatched on Facebook earlier today?

On the other hand, here’s a story that was, is now, and will be forever unique.

Jesus took his disciples aside and told them, Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem,

and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes,

and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles

to be mocked and scourged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.”

Searching out truth starts with those last few words.

One of a kind, that Jesus.

(Jeremiah 18, Psalm 31, John 8, Matthew 20)

(posted at www.davesandel.net)

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