“There’s a lot of actors in need of prayers. And I’m one of them.”

Anthony Michael Hall

Actor, on his religious upbringing (Busted Halo/RNS)

“Our Father is not a cosmic killjoy looking for ways to oppress us, or a legalistic taskmaster enforcing arbitrary rules. He made us and knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows what will give our lives meaning and purpose and what will steal our joy. We are like children fascinated by an electric socket or butcher knife. We need God’s direction more than we know.”

Jim Denison

GodIssues.org

“They won’t give up. Those who believe in it will continue to believe.”

Luigi Garlaschelli

Leader of a group of scientists who have reproduced the Shroud of Turin, which has been revered as the burial cloth of Jesus. The Italian chemistry professor described how he thinks those who believe the shroud is authentic will react to the scientific work (AP/RNS)

Saintly DOMs

I noted with sadness the deaths of two directors of missions, Harry Ball and Howard O. Marsh (Nov. 2). They were my directors of missions when I served as pastor in Hunt and Rehoboth associations. Seeing their obituaries caused me to reflect on the contributions they and other DOMs have made to my life and ministry over the last 37 years.

Harry was a pastor to pastors—good friend and mentor, trusted counselor, encouraging presence. I still was the new pastor at Floyd Baptist Church when Harry arrived just in time to help me move a washer and dryer into the little parsonage. He didn’t blink an eye. He stepped up and provided the assistance I needed.

Howard also was a good friend. We affectionately called him “HOM the DOM.” He encouraged us at First Baptist in Mount Vernon to expand our church-planting interests toward Lake Cypress Springs, and for the first time in my pastoral experience, a new church was born. When an opportunity arose that most advised against, Howard was one of the few encouragers who helped me see opportunity in a discouraging situation. His counsel shaped the last two decades of my ministry.

Both men were giants of the faith to me, and I’ve been blessed with a series of great men of God as DOMs. In fact, I’ve never had a DOM I didn’t love, appreciate and respect.

Thank God for the DOMs of the world.

Mike Milburn

Burleson

Cultural captivity

Thank you for the editorial titled “Awakening versus cultural captivity” (Nov. 9).

I’m old enough to remember the disgraceful ways we treated black people back in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s. We Baptists—and I’m Baptist—were so racially biased that we often treated our domestic animals with more care, respect and dignity than we treated black people.

Even today, although things are much better, I still find unreasonable, unthinking racial bigotry in a considerable number of people of all ages. Even some Sunday school teachers and deacons are so bigoted that it sickens me.

Dale Person

Marshall

Gun-toting ministers

All Chuck Mann says against gun-toting ministers (Oct. 19) is true to a point. But a verse much overlooked is Luke 22:36, in which Jesus advocates carrying a sword.

Some people will not be helped, and there are times we must defend ourselves. All of the Bible is relevant and important.

John Winters

Amarillo

Our nation was stunned by the news of the shootings at Fort Hood that took the lives of 13 soldiers and wounded many others. The soldiers died within the security of the world’s largest military base, where they should have felt safe. Even school children were in lockdown on the base for hours while officials sought to evaluate the situation. Families waited to learn the fate of their loved ones.

Soldiers at Fort Hood are familiar with combat. Hundreds of troops previously stationed there already have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet this murderous rampage was not by an enemy on a foreign battlefield. The perpetrator was one of their own.

Millions watched the memorial service at Fort Hood when President Obama paid tribute to these fallen heroes. Gen. George Casey, the Army chief of staff, quoted Isaiah 6:8: “Here am I. Send me,” reminding us that all who serve our country through the military do so as volunteers. These brave men and women risk lives, spend time away from families and face untold challenges because they choose to protect the rest of us.

Col. Mike Lembke, chief of chaplains at Fort Hood, read Isaiah 40:31: “Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.” These words of comfort will be needed by all who mourn during the weeks, months and even years ahead.

God’s words were very appropriate to all who were affected by these recent events. Yet the context of these verses is for those who serve the Lord. We are reminded that we, too, are involved in conflict. Just as soldiers are asked to pay a high price for service, Christ-followers also must be willing to give our lives.

Soldiers and family members were greeting one another as they milled around waiting for the memorial service to begin. Yet when the service started, the mood was serious and somber.

Folks will gather in Houston this week for our annual meeting. We will have times of fellowship, worship and reports. There will be plenty of laughter, stories and meals. However, at some point, we need to be reminded that we, too, have a mission.

We are to make disciples of all the nations. Almost 12 million Texans claim no church affiliation. Millions more give no evidence of knowing Christ.

Someone must share the hope of Christ with them.

We must go into the inner cities, the prisons, the apartments, the suburbs, the barrios and the colonias sharing the hope of Christ. We must go to the gangs and the CEOs, men and women, adults and children, folks of all races and ethnic heritage and let them know of the love and forgiveness of Christ.

Obedience to this commission may be costly. Folks in Texas and throughout the world do not know Christ.

God continues to call and waits to hear our reply: “Here am I. Send me.”

Randel Everett is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

The tsunami of change that struck the Western world in the 20th century permanently altered the cultural landscape. The emerging church addresses this postmodern context. Most Baptists will have to jettison some modernist baggage—but not their core Baptist identity—to stay afloat in the new era.

The emerging church relates heavily to postmoderns, those for whom reality “ain’t what it used to be.” Such a church may (a) consist primarily of postmoderns, (b) include postmoderns in a mix of age groups or (c) be non-postmodern but minister to postmoderns.

Postmoderns are a bridge generation between the receding modernist view and its emerging replacement. Moderns accept reality as a set of interconnected truths that, if logically arranged, reveal a single picture of reality. For moderns, reality is like a jigsaw puzzle. Each piece has a fixed place in the single image on the puzzle’s box top. By the end of the 20th century, many found any single “box top” explanation unconvincing: Science both threatened and enhanced life; capitalism and Marxism failed to end poverty or satisfy human need; and world religions proclaimed peace but stoked violent divisions.

Postmoderns have abandoned big-picture reality. Either it does not exist, or it cannot be proven by a logical system of propositions—known as a “meta-narrative.” Postmoderns’ reality is more like a set of children’s building blocks than a jigsaw puzzle. The blocks have meaning according to their context in a particular construct. Truth is established through local relationship more than rational, universal application.

Emerging church leader Brian McLaren said, “If you have a new world, you need a new church.” A conversation in the 1990s among young Protestant evangelicals about the church in a postmodern world developed into a movement that birthed a few institutions, most prominently the Emergent Village. The emerging, or emergent, church movement is so varied it defies definition. It is everywhere Christians intentionally engage the future church on postmodern terms.

The movement, like the original Baptist movement, is a marginalized, prophetic attempt to form communities true to the New Testament amidst radical change. Both movements have resisted generalizations by virtue of bewildering diversity of theologies, worship styles, regional expressions and social strategies. But shared values point to their compatibility.

The emerging church movement’s core concern is ecclesiology. It sees modern pyramidal denominations as structures of an outmoded meta-narrative age, much as original Baptists identified the Anglican ecclesiastical hierarchy as part of an obsolete state church. (The emerging church movement, for instance, questions the Religious Right’s attempts to integrate the church into the nation-state’s hierarchy of powers; Baptists similarly rejected this sort of Christendom in the 1600s.) The emerging church advocates a local, congregational, self-determining ecclesiology as both biblical and a better fit for pluralistic postmodern culture. Baptists concur.

The emerging church movement holds the Bible as authoritative, but whereas most modern Protestants sift the texts for fixed truths to be arranged in a logical theology, the emerging church is suspicious of such doctrinal meta-narrative building. It sees more story than system in the Scriptures. Its interpreters prefer a narrative approach to reveal truths unavailable to reason alone. Personal engagement is more central than defense of “propositional-based thought patterns,” according to the postmodern New Testament translation, The Voice. A statement on the Emergent Village website says, “We don’t have a problem with faith, but with statements.” Historically, Baptists share this concern that fixed dogma limits personal encounter with God through Scripture.

For the emerging church movement, the Christian community’s purpose is to incarnate an inclusive way of life, not defend an exclusive doctrinal meta-narrative. According to the Emergent Village, “reconciled friendship trumps traditional orthodoxies” and is a global mission. Baptists similarly insist on individual spiritual freedom and universal religious liberty for all as prerequisites to formation of authentic Christian communities. Christianity is a life of freedom in community.

Some critics see the emerging church movement as a heretical compromise with a pluralistic, truth-denying culture. Baptist history might offer an alternative explanation—ecclesiology is more defined by the practices of a Spirit-led community than by assent to the statements of a modern theological meta-narrative. Conversely, the emerging church movement may provide hope for reformation to Baptists ignorant of the difference between modern truths and Truth incarnate.

Loyd Allen is professor of church history and spiritual formation at Mercer University’s McAfee School of Theology in Atlanta. His column is distributed by Associated Baptist Press.

Younger generations in our church don’t seem to connect with stories of Baptist heroes who dealt with the moral crises of their day. So, how can we communicate the values upon which our forebears stood?

My education, training and experience all have been in history, and much of my work has been almost exclusively in Baptist history. Still, I must acknowledge that history—including Baptist history—has the pretty sad reputation of being boring. So, unfortunately, you are right. The younger generation has little patience with “boring.” But perhaps their impatience and lack of interest is not with our Baptist heroes but with the stories we are telling and with the ways we are telling those stories.

Here is my proposal: We need to learn some new stories, and we need to learn to be good storytellers. Baptists have been around for 400 years, so we have hundreds of inspirational and informative stories of courageous Baptist women and men who have stood for what was right, served quietly and consistently, preached mightily, suffered persecution for their faith, and served faithfully in churches and on the mission fields. We all have our favorite stories—Lottie Moon, Martin Luther King Jr., William Carey and Walter Rauschenbusch. We tell these stories over and over again, and while those stories are among my personal favorites, perhaps it is time to discover new stories.

The great news is that many resources are available. Numerous new books have been produced in recent years that tell Baptist stories, including Julie Whidden Long’s Portraits of Courage: Stories of Baptist Heroes. Written for older children and teenagers but with appeal for all audiences, Long’s book includes 14 brief biographical stories. My favorites are of two recent heroes—Leena Lavanya and Olu Menjay. Lavanya, our Baptist Mother Teresa, has founded homes in India for the aged, lepers, and adults and children living with HIV/AIDS. Menjay is the principal of Rick’s Institute in Liberia, the only private school there that provides free primary education to girls and boys. We need to find stories like those of Lavanya and Menjay and tell them.

The other lesson we can learn from Long, a member of the younger generation herself, is we must reshape our storytelling. Long’s lively presentation style provides a great model for us. Imbedded into her stories are all the Baptist principles we hold dear, but she does not moralize, overemphasize or romanticize. She tells the stories, makes connections between the heroes and their Baptist beliefs, and leaves her readers to discover the lessons of history.

And that is what we need to be doing as well—simply telling the stories and letting the younger generation discover from those stories the great principles Baptists have been defending and proclaiming for 400 years.

Pamela R. Durso, executive director

Baptist Women in Ministry

Atlanta

Right or Wrong? is sponsored by the T.B. Maston Chair of Christian Ethics at Hardin-Simmons University’s Logsdon School of Theology. Send your questions about how to apply your faith to btillman@hsutx.edu.

“We’ve come together across the spectrum, across party and political lines, to say that coverage with inclusive, acceptable, affordable health care for all of God’s children is for us a moral imperative and a religious issue. All of God’s children need to be covered.”

Jim Wallis

Sojourners president, endorsing the “40 Days for Health Reform” effort spearheaded by a coalition of U.S. religious leaders (RNS)

“Once the justices depart, as most of them have, from the original understanding of the principles of the Constitution, they lack any guidance other than their own attempts at moral philosophy, a task for which they have not even minimal skills.”

Robert H. Bork

Former U.S. Court of Appeals judge and rejected Supreme Court justice nominee, on the role of justices (Wall Street Journal/RNS)

“One of the most amazing surprises of the presidency was the fact that people’s prayers affected me.”

George W. Bush

Former U.S. president (Washington Post/RNS)

Internet rumors

Your package of articles on Internet rumors (Oct. 19 ) was excellent. You are correct in saying Christians should hold ourselves to the highest standards in truth-telling.

When we forward an e-mail, we are also forwarding our reputation. We are endorsing the content of the message. We are vouching for the authenticity of the message. We cannot hide by saying, “Oh, I was only forwarding a message I received.”

The Bible says we are not to bear false witness, and we will be held accountable for what we do and say. This includes electronic messages.

Before forwarding an e-mail, we should verify the accuracy of the message and do some honest soul-searching. We should ask ourselves: “What is my real motivation for sending this message? What does this say about my Christian faith?”

Also, if we learn that have forwarded an untrue e-mail, we should send a correction and an apology to everyone who received the original message. This is the ethical thing to do. I have great respect for a friend who does this consistently.

Having read your article on rumor-mongering, I pledge to be even more careful about e-mails that I write and, especially, those I forward.

Bill L. Campbell

Denton

I no longer have the faith I was raised with, but your article on Internet rumor-mongering (Oct. 19) was a powerful read.

Among other things, I very much remember hearing about the Proctor & Gamble rumors straight from the pulpit when I was a kid and wondering how that could possibly be true, and then, when I found out it wasn’t, what that said about the pastor’s credibility.

Would that more of us—of all faiths and political interests—could be as honest as this article.

Mark Blacknell

Arlington, Va.

Who needs NAMB?

I both agree and disagree with Mick Tahaney, who asked, “Who needs NAMB?”—the North American Mission Board (Oct. 19 ).

I agree that “people in far remote areas of this world” need to hear the gospel. It is shocking that only 1 cent out of every $100 given by Christians is used to reach the 27.9 percent of the world’s population who are classified as “unreached.”

I disagree that “once (we share) the gospel, our work is done.” In Matthew 28:19-20, Jesus tells us to go and make disciples in every people group by teaching (training) them to obey all his commands.

Interestingly, on the same page, Bill O’Brien reports, “Students (in the Global Mission Leadership program at the Baylor School of Social Work) entered into a covenant agreement to become disciplers—trainers of trainers. The program is designed to reproduce itself continuously.” Apparently, they get it!

Larry Burner

McKinney

I would like to respond to Mick Tahaney’s question, “Who needs NAMB?” I did.

I grew up in a mainline denomination and had a wonderful religion—just no relationship with Jesus. I was one of those college kids who ate the meal provided by a church at the Texas Tech Baptist Student Ministry.

I also received more than a meal. As a result of being loved, I received Jesus as my Savior and Lord.

Thank God for the BSM, for the local churches and for NAMB. Lost people don’t just live across the ocean; they also can live across the street.

Donald J. Myers

Wills Point

In response to Mick Tahaney, I do agree that the North American Mission Board is based on a faulty premise, but not for the reasons he states.

I propose NAMB resources need to be solely focused on planting churches in regions with no convention strong enough to do the work on their own. The Northeast and Northwest United States and Canada are prime examples.

Likewise, since mission trips are some of the best growth opportunities for Christians, strong state conventions should make it logistically easy for their churches to send teams to support evangelism in these unreached areas.

Ben Macklin

Vernon

Jefferson’s ‘wall’

Thomas Jefferson’s “wall of separation” does not appear in the U.S. Constitution. However, the Supreme Court cited the metaphor in a unanimous decision in 1879 and again in 1947. Article 11 of the Treaty of Tripoli, ratified by the Senate in 1797, begins, “As the government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion … .” The treaty was reaffirmed during the Spanish-American War.

President John Tyler wrote, “The United States have adventured upon a great and noble experiment … that of total separation of church and state.” Abraham Lincoln thwarted attempts to pass a constitutional amendment that would have established the United States as a Christian nation.

It’s not just distant history. When Iraq attempted to rewrite their constitution, the government wanted to declare the nation the “Islamic Republic of Iraq,” similar to the official names of Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan. Arab nations have declared their willingness to recognize the “state of Israel” but not the “Jewish state of Israel” for fear that Muslims and Christians will be second-class citizens. American authorities vetoed the effort of the Iraqi government to declare itself an Islamic state for the same fear for the rights of minorities.

The attempt by some to declare the United States a Christian nation is not an idle gesture. It is an attempt to gain power and control over those with other or no belief.

Robert Flynn

San Antonio

Great things at DBU

I recently had an opportunity to speak at the chapel service for Dallas Baptist University. Although I had heard of the great things going on at DBU for some time, it was my first opportunity to see and experience the campus and people of DBU myself.

I cannot begin to express how impressed I was. The campus is beautiful and well maintained. I was overwhelmed by the new chapel, which housed over 1,000 students during the service. The students were sharp, respectful, receptive and friendly. President Gary Cook and the faculty were wonderful hosts as well.

As a current member and past chairman of the vocational theological education subcommittee of the Texas Baptist Executive Board, I have been impressed with the increasing number of students preparing for ministry at DBU. After my visit, I can certainly see why.

It is clearly and unapologetically a Christ-centered university that seeks to integrate excellence in service to Christ with excellence in academics.

I am so proud of what God is doing through the leadership of Dr. Cook and the faculty at Dallas Baptist University. I can’t wait to see how God is going to bless others through the students of DBU.

Bruce Webb

The Woodlands

Clergy infidelity

The best deterrent to clergy sexual infidelity is never to be alone with a congregant of the opposite sex. This means not meeting at the church office if an assistant or staff person is not there. I always had a home with a room where I could counsel in private when my wife was in the house.

I was a pastor who counseled, not a counselor. After two sessions, I usually referred the individual to a counselor.

When my congregation included women in upper management, I had to reassess where the dangers would be. When I had a luncheon meeting, I told the administrative assistant where I was going and when I expected to return. At lunch, we met at a restaurant well visited by the public. The subject was friendly, but the subject primarily was business. My wife also knew I had that meeting; this helped home relationships through understanding.

If I were building a church, I would reluctantly place a small glass pane on the office door. It would keep me honest because any one in the office could pass by and observe. Also, if a counselee accused the minister of sexual advances behind closed doors there is no defense except “he said/she said.” The typical church will dismiss the minister at the expense of truth because it values the institution more.

These are practical ways to avoid the temptation of trouble. If we avoid the temptation, there will be no trouble.

Gerard Howell

Lexington, Ky.

What do you think? Because we affirm the Baptist principle of the priesthood of all believers, we value hearing from our readers. Send letters to Editor Marv Knox by mail: P.O. Box 660267, Dallas 75266-0267; or by e-mail: marvknox@baptiststandard.com. Due to space considerations, limit letters to 250 words, and only one letter per writer per quarter.

In a few days, messengers will gather in Houston from across Texas for our annual meeting. As we approach this time together, we should ask ourselves, “What is the primary purpose of Texas Baptists?” My answer is to reach Texas for Christ.

In Jesus’ instruction in Acts 1:8, the church is to take the gospel to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and the uttermost part of the world. Texas is our Judea when we consider this verse geographically. Typically, we believe each church has a responsibility for her Jerusalem. Most churches have national conventions as partners with a strategy to reach the world. Only state conventions have the primary task of reaching their states.

The BGCT obviously is involved in ministries that reach beyond our state and have implications throughout the world. But if Texas Baptists are not committed to reaching Texas, who will? I honestly believe we have the greatest resources and strategy for reaching Texas with the hope of Christ than any other convention. There are many wonderful churches and conventions throughout our state, but I know of none that has been given the resources God has entrusted to us for sharing the hope of Christ with everyone in Texas.

God has worked through the faithfulness of our forefathers to provide 5,700 churches, nine Texas Baptist universities, four children’s homes, missionaries on 120 of our university campuses, hospitals across Texas, 561 certified chaplains (including military, hospital, prison and, among other things, even “biker” chaplains) and numerous other ministries.

Texas has great state universities with many faculty and students who are dedicated Christ followers. But none of these universities can teach from a Christian worldview. In our Baptist schools, our professors in math, science, languages, religion or any other disciplines have the opportunity (and I believe the responsibility) to teach from a Christian point of view. Christian students are strengthened, and those who do not yet know Christ who come to our schools will have opportunities to hear and see the power of the gospel. We need these Christian schools to equip leaders for today’s nihilistic and secular world.

When disaster strikes, Texas Baptists are there with food, shelter and the hope of Christ. Baptist chaplains bring grace and courage to the hurting and grieving in hospitals, jails or military conflicts. Church staff trained in our schools and seminaries lead established congregations and start new ones that reach the unchurched in rural and urban communities.

Yet with all these resources, the number of Texans who give no indication of knowing Christ is growing every year. Half of the state claim to have no church affiliation. Texas still leads the nation in the number of children who are hungry. Hundreds of languages are spoken in our neighborhoods, many coming from cultures who know nothing of Jesus.

We gather in Houston for fellowship, reports and inspiration. Yet in every gathering, I pray we will remember our greatest assignment is to share the hope of Christ with everyone in our state.

Randel Everett is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

If—as some observers claim—flames of spiritual awakening are fanning across the globe, then why have they seemingly leapt over the United States?

Titles of two great books provide a clue: At Ease in Zion by Rufus Spain and Churches in Cultural Captivity by John Lee Eighmy. These classic volumes cannot be summarized in just one paragraph. But it’s fair to say they address a vital question: Since the South was dominated by pious, church-going Baptists, why did it remain a regressive backwater, where human rights, justice and personal liberty stagnated for a century following the Civil War? The answer lay within the tight parameters by which provincial Baptists proscribed their faith. They measured themselves by narrow pieties—in those days, refraining from liquor, illicit sex and gambling—and failed to ponder the broader realm of moral rectitude. In fact, as far as justice and civil righteousness were concerned, they merely copied the selfish concerns of their surrounding culture.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Oh, we may be “right” on race now (although, were it not for black Baptists and liberal mainline Protestants, one could doubt racial attitudes would have changed a smidge). But the church in America—not merely Baptists—continues to be defined by what it is not instead of by what it is. So we decry the horrors of crime, the media’s glamorization of sex and violence, and the dangers of substance abuse, gay marriage and abortion.

Unfortunately, the church in America—particularly Baptists, mainliners and evangelicals—still mirrors its surrounding culture. We’re no less consumed by materialism than are our communities. Most of the time, we handle authority and power no better than the businesses, schools and governments nearby. In fact, we often handle power worse than other institutions. For example, our conflict-management processes typically look more like no-holds-barred political grudge matches than opportunities for Christians to practice redemption and restoration.

What’s more, as individual Christians, we’re doing no better than our churches. Except that we’re programmed to say the right things, and the most vocal and/or active among us protest gay marriage and abortion, we offer little evidence that what happens in our church buildings on Sunday morning makes any difference in our lives on Tuesday night or Thursday afternoon. We lust for power just like the next gal. We’re just as seduced by things as the next guy. Our marriages fail and we lie at about the same pace as everybody else. We have the same problems with our kids as our neighbors.

And we’re comfortable with it. If we weren’t, we’d do something about it. We’d change. We’re a church at ease in secular society; we’re captive to our culture.

This edition of the Standard contains a package of articles on spiritual awakening. I hope you’ll read it. I particularly resonate with an observation made by Jim Denison: Awakening doesn’t happen until Christians get desperate. We can spiritualize that idea, but it tracks basic human nature. People don’t change deep habits, addictions, customs or beliefs until they finally realize something’s wrong and they get desperate for difference.

Spiritual awakening is bypassing America because we’re comfortable in our consumeristic, class-driven culture. Nothing’s likely to change until we get fed up and desire change more than comfort and security. Many Christians have been fretting about the future, and mostly what they mention is the economy—their financial future. While no sane person would desire fiscal calamity, spiritual poverty is more serious than financial fragility. Likewise, while my theology doesn’t allow me to believe God causes an economic depression, God certainly can use one to achieve broader and deeper purposes.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks blog

Sometimes, the Law of Unintended Consequences smacks you upside the head.

This fall, Joanna and I took a trip to celebrate our 30th anniversary. This was a good thing.

After 30 years of wedded bliss, we decided to visit a part of the country we’d never seen. So, we flew to Boston and drove up to Maine.

When I think theologically, I understand God created all people and loves us all just the same. But after visiting different parts of the country (and the world, for that matter), I’m developing a theory that God’s love oscillates.

I’ve loved the word “oscillate” since I was a kid. Back then, my grandparents—Grammar and Popo—put oscillating fans in their bedrooms during the summer. These fans turn back and forth, so that one fan can stir the air all across the room as it pivots, or oscillates, from side to side.

Well, sometimes I think maybe that’s how God’s love does. It blows lovely, refreshing blessings on first one, and then another, and then back to the original one, and then back to the other.

Which makes me think of Maine. God invented special shades of crimson and gold and rust and green to paint the Maine hillsides in the fall. And the thundering grandeur of swelling waves crashing on the rocky coast blows the greatest symphony anybody ever heard, well, out of the water.

Meanwhile, as Jo and I enjoyed the pristine splendor of an autumn week in Maine, our family and friends back in Texas endured a week of gray skies, rain, occasional flooding and trees the same color they’d been for months and months—only soaked down to the flotsam and jetsam.

And so it felt as if God’s grace and love were shining on New Englanders just a bit brighter than it shone on Texans and Oklahomans.

That’s where oscillation comes in. Soon, those of us who live in the Southwest will be toasty in sweaters and light jackets on sunny 50-degree days, while our Yankee cousins will be bundled to the hilt and frozen to the marrow, trudging under leaden skies around snow piled high as a polar bear’s eye. And, although we’ll know it isn’t true, we’ll feel God loves us best.

Oh, back to the Law of Unintended Consequences: Before we left, I unplugged the TV so that, if we had a big storm, a power surge wouldn’t fry it down to the electromagnetic impulses. You think that’s smart and good? I did, too. And we both would be wrong.

When I intentionally set out to save the TV from lightning, I unintentionally disconnected the commands to record the programs Jo missed while we were gone. Three words you never want to hear from your spouse: “You did what?”

I felt as cursed by technology as New Englanders and Texans feel cursed by weather in February and July, respectively. But then Jo remembered our cable company will replay most of her shows on-demand.

Ah, oscillation.