Transparent heart icon with white outline and + sign.

Life's busy, read it when you're ready!

Create a free account to save articles for later, keep track of past articles you’ve read, and receive exclusive access to all RP resources.

White magnifying glass.

Search thousands of RP articles

Equipping Christians to think, speak, and act

Open envelope icon with @ symbol

Get Articles Delivered!

Equipping Christians to think, speak, and act delivered direct to your Inbox!

Log In Create an Account Contact Us

Save articles for later, keep track of past articles you’ve read, and receive exclusive access to all RP resources.



News

Saturday Selections – Dec. 23, 2023

How could reproduction evolve? (3 min)

That reproduction happens all the time has people thinking that it's no big thing. But it needs all our body's systems to be working to pull it off, all working at the same time, and in perfect sync, interacting in just the right order at just the right time, with one another.

Should we leave our children with a monetary inheritance?

Proverbs 13:22 says: "A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, but the sinner’s wealth is laid up for the righteous." Randy Alcorn looks at this verse and offers some pointed thoughts for our consideration.

Stubborn facts about saving sex for marriage

Multiple studies confirm that the world's “try before you buy” plan for marriage doesn't work like God's "save it" command. The world's not going to hear that if Christians aren't confident themselves that God's ways are best, so let's say it one more time: God's ways work!

11 practical ways to reduce digital consumption 

If you or your kids are anxious or depressed, your devices could be one reason.

8 habits that could add 24 years to your life

These tips aren't anything you haven't heard before, but maybe you underestimated their importance – this is about being good stewards of the bodies God has given us.

I love my transgender son. I love Jesus more.

The author doesn't understand why this is happening to his son. But he trusts that what God says is right and best and good.

Another pro-life prophet Nathan moment

In  2 Samuel 12, the prophet Nathan gets King David to render judgement on one situation, and then demands David apply that same principle to his own situation. In this clip, Freedom Toon's Seamus Coughlin is questioning why a baby's location would deprive it of all rights. It's a good point, but a third party to the conversation comes in with an even better one – if a baby's location deprives it of all rights, then why shouldn't we let a pregnant mom do meth?

Red heart icon with + sign.
Human Rights

Why defend free speech?

Why should Christians defend the freedom for others to say and write things we wouldn’t?  **** Some years ago, an American diplomat was having a drink with his Russian counterpart in Moscow, capital of the Soviet Union. He was trying to explain to the communist what free speech means. “In America, any citizen can just stroll around downtown Washington with a sign that says ‘Down with President Reagan’ and not get arrested. That’s what it means to have freedom of speech.” “So what?” his Russian friend replied. “I can do the very same thing and not get in any trouble – I could march right into the Kremlin, right into Secretary Gorbachev’s office and yell ‘Down with Reagan’ and I wouldn’t get arrested.” ***** This was one of many jokes President Reagan loved to tell to contrast Western freedom with Soviet repression. And the joke hints at an important litmus test for free speech, which is whether you are free to criticize your own government, laws, and society – in private or public. The humble should want to be second-guessed (Prov. 18:17) But why should a society, particularly a democratic one like Canada, allow its prevailing norms, beliefs, or behaviors to be questioned and criticized? Because, we believe societies and governments – like any fallible person or group of persons – can be wrong. They often are. Truth exists. And truth trumps majority opinion, personal feelings, and political power. On that score, there are many examples of men speaking truth to those in positions of political power. They are recorded for us in the Bible and through Church history. You might think of Nathan calling out David for his adultery with Bathsheba. Or you might think of how Samuel and Jonathan speak the truth to King Saul. The proud make speech costly Many other prophets dared to speak the truth to other kings of Israel and Judah. Jesus condemned Jewish authorities for killing these prophets. In Matthew 23, Jesus even points to a specific example recorded in Scripture, namely that of Zechariah in 2 Chronicles 24:20: "Then the Spirit of God came on Zechariah, son of Jehoiada the priest. He stood before the people and said, “This is what God says: ‘Why do you disobey the Lord’s commands? You will not prosper. Because you have forsaken the Lord, he has forsaken you.’” But they plotted against him, and by order of the king , they stoned him to death in the courtyard of the Lord’s temple." Or, consider the example of the Apostle Paul. In Acts 17 we read about how Paul went about his work. In the first part of Acts 17 he’s in Thessalonica. We read: "And Paul, as was his custom, went into the synagogue, and on three Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead. “This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Messiah,” he said. Some of the Jews were persuaded and joined Paul." Let’s contrast that with the conduct of those who don’t like what Paul is saying: " formed a mob and started a riot in the city they dragged Jason and some other believers before the city officials, shouting: 'These men who have caused trouble all over the world have now come here, and Jason has welcomed them into his house. They are all defying Caesar’s decrees, saying that there is another king, one called Jesus.'” These guys seem pretty politically savvy. Whip up a mob. Cause a riot. Blame your opponents’ message for your behavior. Get officials to silence them. The wise will challenge speech Then Paul goes on to Berea, where we read that the Jews were “noble” and that they “eagerly examined the Scriptures to see if Paul’s teachings were true.” Then we go on to read about Paul in Athens later in the chapter: " reasoned in the synagogue with both Jews and God-fearing Greeks, as well as in the marketplace day by day with those who happened to be there. And a group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers began to debate with him. And they took Paul and brought him to a meeting of the Areopagus, where they said to him, “May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? You are bringing some strange ideas to our ears, and we would like to know what they mean” (Acts 17:17-20)." The response to Paul by those interested in the truth is to investigate, discuss, and debate. The response of those interested in preserving their power rather than pursuing truth is to silence Paul by force. But the truth of Christ is more powerful than the force of rulers. In 2 Corinthians 10, Paul uses a military metaphor to explain gospel ministry: "Though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, our weapons have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." Demolishing strongholds and taking captives – not with the sword, but the truth of God’s Word. Now, of course, Paul and the Apostles spoke the truth, as we must, regardless of whether the law protects our freedom to do so. It is good to defend the freedom to share the truth. Paul defended himself using his rights as a citizen, for example, with the goal of bearing witness to Christ. God hates compelled speech Other early Christians advocated for freedom to preach and practice the gospel, arguing that religion is a matter of the heart and cannot be coerced. In A.D. 197, Tertullian wrote his Apology as a defense of persecuted Christians. He addressed it to the Roman authorities. Tertullian says it is “a privilege inherent in human nature that every person should be able to worship according to his own convictions.” Coercion in religion, he argues, only fosters irreligion and hypocrisy. Tertullian contends that “heretics and philosophers study the same themes as believers: what is the origin of evil, and why? The origin of humans, and why?” He also appeals to the image of God in man, with an emphasis on man’s reasoning and decision-making capacity. God has used speech The ability to disseminate views increased dramatically with the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press in the mid-1400s. It made books and pamphlet printing far faster and cheaper, making written materials widely accessible. A few decades later, the Catholic Church did not like much of what it saw coming off the press, so in 1487 the Pope issued a papal bull calling for regulation of the press. That did not accomplish much. So, the next Pope – Leo X – issued a stronger papal bull in 1515 forbidding publishing without prior authorization from the Church. Leo X did so just in time for Luther. By 1521, the Pope’s envoy in Germany wrote to the Pope to bemoan the “daily downpour of Lutheran tracts in German and Latin. Nothing is sold here except the tracts of Luther.” Luther called the printing press “God’s highest and extremest act of grace whereby the gospel is driven forward.” The data backs Luther up. The Reformation spread faster in towns that had printing presses. And in turn literacy grew fastest in places where the Reformation took hold, as it did firmly in the Netherlands. Between 1600 and 1800 no one read or printed more than the Dutch. Their literacy and rate of literary consumption by the late 1600s quadrupled that of France or Italy. Speech can be misused         Now there’s also no denying that the printing press and the explosion of religious pamphlets allowed some strange flowers to bloom. Radical Anabaptists had very odd and heretical teachings and were early victims of persecution. Luther said of this persecution, “I am deeply troubled that the poor Anabaptists are pitifully put to death. Let everyone believe what he likes. If he is wrong he will have punishment enough in hell. Unless there is sedition, one should oppose the Anabaptists with God’s Word.” Luther was not always consistent with this principle. He supported censorship of certain Anabaptist writings as well as Zwinglian pamphlets. Calvinists exercised censorship too – for example, when the Presbyterians controlled the Parliament of 17th century England and forbade publishing books or tracts without prior license from Parliament. But the Presbyterians were opposed by various Puritans including an important Reformed political thinker named John Milton. You may know him as the author of the epic poem Paradise Lost, but he was also a very important political thinker and advocate. John Milton, on iron sharpening iron In 1644, during the first English Civil War between Parliament and the Crown, John Milton published an unlicensed pamphlet attacking an Order of Parliament from the year before that prohibited publishing anything unless it had first received a license from the censors appointed by Parliament. Milton titled his great free speech pamphlet Areopagitica – in reference to the Areopagus in Athens and likely to Paul’s visit there recorded in Acts 17. Milton’s unlicensed pamphlet would prove very influential in later English and American and Canadian history. So let’s follow its argument. Milton was concerned about how we, as human beings made in God’s image, promote the truth. Option number one is through reading widely, considering different opinions, and thinking critically. Iron sharpens iron, as the proverb goes. Option one has an optimistic view of the truth, that the Truth with a capital T will ultimately triumph. The only way this can happen, though, is if citizens have the freedom of expression needed to discover the truth by considering God’s revelation for themselves. But Milton anticipated a common objection: won’t the freedom of expression allow bad ideas to spread? That leads us to option number two to promote the truth: through force. Underlying this second belief is the presumption that the Truth will lose out, unless we force others to adopt it. In their eyes, truth will ultimately lose in a fair fight. The only way to maintain the truth – if they even believe in objective truth – is to allow some people to decide what truth is and enforce it upon everyone else. So those who wish to restrict the freedom of expression have little confidence in the power of the Truth. Or, alternatively, they might even think Truth is powerful, but they hate it and wish to supress it. Milton uses the example of the Bible. If you want to stomp out heresy and inappropriate content, then you might consider banning the Bible too. We all know churches or people who have twisted the Bible to promote their own opinions. The Bible also has graphic descriptions of sin (ex. the final chapters of Judges) and even suggestive descriptions of goodness (ex. the Song of Solomon). That’s why the Roman Catholic Church did not allow the Bible to be printed in the common language: because they did not trust common people to interpret it. But truth doesn’t come from the Pope or from the King. It is found in God’s revelation of Himself, a revelation that He has given to all mankind. Some speech needs to be policed Now, just because we believe in freedom of expression doesn’t mean that the government may never regulate any type speech. The Bible speaks of many sins of the tongue. The government does have a role in regulating some speech, such as outlawing perjury, which is bearing false witness in court. Some forms of speech constitute injustices against others in themselves, such as libel, threats, or fraud. But it is not the responsibility of the government to police all the sins of the tongue. Some of these judgements are reserved for other spheres of authority: elders in the church combat heresy, parents in the home police unkind words, bosses in the workplace punish false advertising, and even individuals in their own minds need to guard against ungodly thoughts. …but the bigger problem is truth being restricted However, the problem today isn’t so much that governments in Canada are trying to combat sins of the tongue that are outside of its responsibility. Instead, the main problem today is that they are more and more punishing speech that proclaims the truth and is glorifying to God or, relatedly, speech that challenges the prevailing ideologies and idols of our day. We can think of Canada’s conversion therapy ban, which makes it illegal to promote a biblical view of gender and sexuality in some settings. We have bubble zone laws that prevent pro-lifers from talking about abortion in any way around hospitals and abortion clinics in some provinces. One Ontario MPP proposed another type of bubble zone that outlaws the proclamation of God’s design for human gender and sexuality in certain areas. A growing number of municipalities and, again, another Ontario MPP are proposing to ban pro-life literature. This onslaught against free speech is what Christians need to stand up to. We may very well disagree with the manner that it is presented in. Perhaps such speech was spoken in anger or with inappropriate exaggeration. We might even disagree with the truth of the speech itself. We might think that what our neighbor is saying runs contrary to some biblical principles. But if we neglect to defend free speech, we are essentially saying that we don’t think that the Truth will triumph but that lies will always overcome the Truth unless put down by the force of law. But we have every confidence that the Truth will prevail. So let us defend the right of our neighbors to speak what they think is true so that every obstacle to the preaching of the gospel may be removed for us as well....

Red heart icon with + sign.
People we should know

Albert van der Heide’s passion for print

He’s been publishing and selling newspapers and books for more than a half century ***** If you’ve attended a conference at a Reformed church in the Fraser Valley some time in the last 15 years, you’ve probably enjoyed browsing a book table manned by a friendly, knowledgeable gentleman, eager to discuss good resources and to steer you towards wise godly literature. Albert van der Heide, owner of Vanderheide Publishing, loves discussing ideas, recommending authors, and introducing Christian readers to Christian authors. Albert ran The Windmill Herald (and Hollandia News) for 42, years, from 1969 to 2012, when the Herald published its last issue. Anyone who knows Albert learns quickly that he has an almost encyclopedic memory and a wide range of interests. He is one of those people who discovered his life’s passions, and found a path to make a living doing what he loves. And he’s enriched the lives of others along the way. There’s much more to Albert than book tables! Longtime friend, former boss            When I was 13, my first job was working in the basement of Albert and Cobie van der Heide’s residence, gluing mailing labels to thousands of Windmill Herald newspapers, and bundling them up for different towns and cities across North America. I can still smell the ink of the freshly printed papers, the musty canvas of the Canada Post mailing bags, and the sweet glue of the labeling machines. (I can still smell my first paycheck too – thanks Albert!) In the years before the Internet, The Windmill Herald connected Dutch immigrants to news from the homeland, advertised sources for Dutch treats and events, and profiled what kind of lives these new Canadians and Americans were able to build in North America. But as a kid, I had little understanding of how Albert had come into this industry, how he had built this business, and what drove him to continue to work every day long after ceasing to publish the newspaper. I sat down with Albert recently to learn more about his work and his life. We met in the back office of his Langley, B.C. warehouse and store, surrounded by books and filing cabinets. A couple of times, the bell rang as the front door opened, and Albert jumped up eagerly to help whoever had come in to browse, to buy, or just to chat. He relished the interactions! While he was helping a visitor pick up some books that she needed, I saw on the wall a certificate that looked pretty official, and then I remembered – technically, I was interviewing a Knight! Albert had received the title from Queen Beatrix in 1993 in recognition of his work in the Dutch community in Canada. Van der Heide is officially a Knight in the Order of Oranje-Nassau, the Dutch royal house. When he returned, I reminded him: “Glad you could make time for me today, Sir Albert!” Albert grinned as he remembered what his dad had said after he received the title: “Where’s your horse?” Itchy feet at an early age Albert was born in 1945 in Zwolle, the Netherlands, and grew up on the small family farm. Already as a 4-year-old, Albert wanted to emigrate to Canada! A favorite uncle had moved to Canada in 1949, and his father had relatives in America. At age 11, Albert had some health challenges, and could not be as active for a period of time as he recovered. What joy then when he developed an even greater love for reading! His mom would bring him armfuls of books from the library, and he devoured especially the historical tomes. From then on, all of Albert’s pocket money went to books, particularly ones that described the adventures of emigrants and travelers. Wise counsel In 1964, at age 19, Albert joined a work experience program taking young farm workers to Canada. It was not expected to be a permanent move, but he still needed permission from both his father, and an uncle, his Oom Hein Vruggink, who was Albert’s additional guardian after the death of his natural mother. Oom Hein was a wise man whose counsel still echoes through the years all this time later. He said that sometimes a funeral is better than emigration, because at least at a funeral you know where the body is buried! But when someone emigrates, they can just disappear without a trace. In the extended family, there had been relatives who left Holland, left the Reformed faith, and were not heard from again. But with these warnings, Oom Hein did give permission; he even said that if he were Albert’s age, he would go along! But this was only allowed if his nephew could serve the Lord in a faithful church in the neighborhood where he would be moving. Albert was glad to report that there were Christian Reformed Churches in the Fraser Valley that he would be able to join, and the preparations began. After six months of life in B.C., Albert was ready to make the move permanent. He loved the freedom Canadians enjoyed, the lack of bureaucracy, and the many opportunities for a young hard worker. Despite his relative lack of experience, he was managing a dairy farm with 70 cows, which was quite large compared to the average herd of a dozen or so back in Zwolle. Albert was delighted that his family back home had no major objections, and he made the move to Canada permanent. Opportunity knocks After a farming accident resulted in an injury, Albert decided to find a different line of work. He began selling office supplies, and print orders for a Vancouver company, and this sales job brought him in contact with dozens of Dutch immigrants working all around the lower mainland. Albert found that he was good at sales! He loved meeting people and hearing their stories, and was not afraid to ask for a sale. In 1969, Albert’s business connections to Blom’s Stores and Holland Shopping Centre helped him to purchase the bulletin these stores were publishing together for their customers. He eventually changed the publication to a bi-weekly newspaper, The Windmill Herald. So began Albert’s career as a publisher. For the next forty plus years, van der Heide was always under a deadline: choosing stories, writing editorials, and covering local news events, always with an eye to the next newspaper issue. Although he did not have a university degree or post-secondary schooling, Albert showed an affinity for telling stories and digging into details that readers relished. The company began publishing a separate edition for the Ontario and eastern Canada market – that came about after the purchse of Hollandia News, another long running newspaper for the Dutch community. At their heights, The Windmill and Hollandia News reached over 13,000 homes in Canada and the U.S.A. (and each one had to have an address label glued onto it by a crew of hard-working youngsters and even some old timers, in the van der Heide basement!). The same year he began publishing, Albert met Cobie Tanis on a trip back to the Netherlands. Albert and Cobie were married in 1971 shortly after Cobie moved to Canada. After losing their first child due to a collapsed lung, the couple was delighted to welcome daughter Karin in 1977. Karin married Art Louwerse, and the two have brought four grandchildren, and much joy, into Albert and Cobie’s family. Over the years, Albert published or helped publish books for the Reformed community, the broader Dutch community, and for a general audience. Some highlights include To All Our Children by Albert VanderMey on Dutch immigration to Canada, and In the Shadow of the Sun by Ronny Herman DeJong on life and death under the Japanese on the island of Java during the Second World War. Albert is also thankful to have been involved with the series The Flame of the Word, a church history curriculum authored by Apko Nap and Pieter Torenvliet. The next chapter In 2012, after a long run of deadlines and stories, Albert made the decision to cease publishing The Windmill. While he still saw a market for a periodical for the community, Albert didn’t believe that he and his crew were well positioned to make the transition away from a mostly Dutch language publication. “I enjoyed the work from day one! But once I made the decision to close the paper, I never regretted it.” Eleven years later, Albert is still actively involved in publishing and book distribution, but without the pressures of deadline day every two weeks. “I work every day, but I have no stress!” His passion for Biblical, Reformed literature is contagious (as anyone who has browsed his book table can attest!). Customers who walk in to the storefront are often looking for Reformed Christian answers to a specific problem, and Albert is most often able to help them with a suggested title or author. Other visitors are just curious about what the company sells, often leading to a conversation about the Gospel news of Jesus Christ. Albert is thankful that the company’s biggest sellers are always Bibles. History of a community Over the years, Albert accumulated an enormous archive on the history of the Dutch community in Canada: books, newspaper articles, personal journals, self-published books, diaries, letters, pictures and memorabilia, altogether representing a rich treasure trove for future historians. There does not seem to be anything like these archives in Canada. “The Dutch are not controversial; we are an ethnic group that kind of flies under the radar,” said van der Heide. In time, no doubt there will be more interest in digging into the history of our community, but for now, it is a huge challenge to continue to catalog, store, and maintain all this material. For now, the archives remain a labor of love. Van der Heide would love to find an institution that would be willing to house and care for these archives. A rewarding calling It was wonderful interviewing Albert, because it’s beautiful when a Christian finds a calling that is fulfilling and rewarding, where one’s interests, abilities, and passions align. This doesn’t mean that work is without stress or difficulty, because we live in a fallen word of weeds and sorrows. We obey the Bible’s command to “pray and work,” and leave the results in the Lord’s hands. Right at the start of our interview, van der Heide made it clear that he was not looking for praise. “I want to be known as a sinner! I need the Lord, and He is the one that deserves all the glory.” Canadians can shop at Albert’s online bookstore ReformedChristianBooks.com, while BC residents in the Fraser Valley can check out his brick-and-mortar location in Langley at Vanderheide Publishing Co. Ltd., #201 20381 62nd Ave (604-309-3924)....

Red heart icon with + sign.
Assorted

Keeping Christ in Christmas: 12 ideas for honoring God in our Christmas festivities

There’s no more exciting time than Christmas. Reflecting on the birth of Christ, gifts, lights, decorations, music, special foods, and time spent with family and friends cause most Christians to anticipate some “good times ahead!” Ah, but since it is supposed to be exciting, and everyone is kindly wishing us a very merry time, we have to be careful to manage our expectations. All the anticipation can raise expectations to unreachable levels – we may begin to think that we have a “right” to a perfect Christmas. Then we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment over the gift or invitation we didn’t receive, the people who didn’t come over, the lack of enthusiasm over gifts we presented, or the lack of cooperation with all the cooking and cleanup! Poor us! Instead, as God’s chosen ones, let’s take the time to meditate ahead of time on Colossians 3:12-17 and “get dressed” for the holiday season by putting on “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” Let us bear with and forgive one another, and put on love which leads to harmony. Let us “let the peace of Christ dwell in us” as we celebrate Him! How? By immersing ourselves in God’s Word and singing Psalms and hymns, meditating on His great gifts to us. Resist the temptation to overdo it. Don’t exhaust yourself to the point of complaining. Let there be a balance so that you don’t end up tired, angry, resentful or poor. As you think about how you might spend the Christmas season honoring Jesus Christ whose birth and very life we are celebrating, consider including some of the following suggestions that I’ve gathered.  Suggestions Emphasize giving instead of receiving. As Acts 20:35 tells us, Jesus said that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Instead of asking “What do you want for Christmas?” ask “What are you going to give so and so?” Some activities are: Let young ones choose gifts for family members and teachers at the dollar store – even if some of their choices amuse you. Support a Christian ministry – let the kids earn money working at home or for others, and give it, so that they can feel the joy of donating as well. Collect food for the needy. Give of your time to help the sick or those who are overwhelmed with trials. Assist in a soup kitchen. Give a surprise gift of service to family members, neighbors, friends – and don’t forget your pastor and his family. Have a craft or baking day, perhaps with friends, and give some of the delicious results to others. Be honest about Santa. It’s wrong to lie to your children, especially about an ageless, supernaturally powerful, unbelievably generous, and generally invisible being, who “knows when you’ve been good or bad.” So let them know who is giving them the gifts. The kids will be thrilled that Mom, Dad, Oma, Opa and Aunt Susie showed their love by giving them something special. Consider opening gifts on a different day. That might be Sinterklaas (December 5), or Epiphany (January 6); this could help to keep Christmas Day as a time to worship and glorify our Lord. But note, if you do open gifts on Christmas Day, one thing you don’t want to do is to make the children sit through a devotional while in their little hearts they are eagerly staring at a pile of soon-to-be-unwrapped presents. There’s a time for everything, and it’s fine to let them cherish their anticipation and excitement rather than expecting them to obediently sit through a reading to which they are not even paying attention. Celebrate Advent. Advent means “coming” and begins a specified number of days before Christmas Eve to build anticipation for the actual Christmas day. If you buy an Advent calendar, avoid the distracting ones with candy or cutesy Santas/TV cartoon characters on them. Plan a devotional reading and song for each of the days. Teach your children how to use a Bible dictionary/handbook or the Logos online Bible aids to dig out facts for themselves to present to the whole family at the next dinnertime. Topics might include: Angels – Learn what the Bible says about angels. Some suggested verses are: Matt. 4:11, 24:31, 26:53; Luke 2:10-12, 22:43; 1 Tim. 3:16; Acts 1:9-11; 2 Thess. 1:7; Rev. 7; Ps. 91:11-12. There are useful books on the subject that could also be your guide. Who was Augustus Caesar? – Was he related to Julius Caesar? Make a chart of the rulers from the New Testament era. What is a census and why did Augustus want to do one? Make a family tree together – your own “census.” Where is Bethlehem? – Study maps of Palestine in the time of Christ together, and compare the map to a current one. Bethlehem still exists! Use Google maps to look up the distance from Nazareth to Bethlehem. If the weather is good, take a family hike and compare it to how far Joseph and Mary had to travel. Christmas carols – Learn the stories behind some of the carols and examine the words together to determine which are biblical and which are just sung for fun because they are a tradition (Little Drummer Boy, for instance – would a newborn want a kid to play a drum next to his little ears?). Learn some new-to-you Christmas carols – There are probably some in the Book of Praise or hymnbook that you do not know. Jesus as the “light of the world” (John 8:12) – If you’re putting up Christmas lights, then read/talk together about how Jesus is the light of the world. What does that mean? How can we be lights as well? Make a list of the names/titles of Jesus and talk about each one – Write down a dozen on good cardstock cards, put a number on the front of each, with the name inside and a verse to go with it. Talk about shepherds – What was it like to be a shepherd? Of all the people in the world, it was the shepherds who were told to go to Bethlehem and see the Christ child. Talk about how Jesus later said, “I am the good Shepherd gives His life for the sheep” and “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish” (John 10:11; 27-28). Have a treasure hunt looking for hidden treats and then talk about how Jesus is the Good Shepherd who goes out searching for His sheep. 12 Days of Christmas – Historians disagree about whether this song was put together to aid children in remembering catechism or aspects of the Christian faith. However, there is enough basis that you can choose to look up the details online and view the song this way if you so desire. The Twelve Days of Christmas are supposed to start on Dec. 25 and end on the evening of Jan. 5th. It was traditionally celebrated that the Wise Men arrived with gifts on Jan. 6. What are frankincense and myrrh? – Research some ideas as to why these were given to Jesus along with gold. Christmas-related items – Include information that is interesting/possibly meaningful about items such as the possible Christian symbolism of the candy cane, the use of red and green (symbol of blood and everlasting life), and the circular Christmas wreath symbolizing the eternal nature of Christ and His endless love. Let each family member read a portion of the Christmas story from Luke and Matthew. Take turns choosing carols or Psalms to sing. Host a party. Invite family members but also consider inviting single folks, neighbors, or small families who have no relatives nearby. While large gatherings can be fun, smaller ones lend themselves to better conversations; why not have 2 or 3 small gatherings instead? Go caroling at a hospital, assisted-living home, or to various shut-ins’ homes. Take a small gift of baking or fruit to give. Have the children prepare Christmas cards ahead of time to give out as well. Write a letter to a missionary family or two. Include encouraging scriptures, and let each member of the family tell a little about themselves, whether they write it, or dictate it. Collect yearly memories – Ask each person to write down something that they are thankful for, and something that they would like to see happen in the new year – collect these and pack them away with the Christmas decorations so you can read them when you get together next year. Watch a good Christian movie, such as War Room, Martin Luther, Woodlawn, Alleged, The Case for Christ, Beyond the Mask, Overcomer, Time Changer, Sabina, Courageous, The Song, I Can Only Imagine, and Calvinist and talk about it. Read and write some poems about the true Christmas story. Attend your church service, whether on Christmas morning or Christmas Eve.  Honoring Christ in every way It’s pretty common to see signs that say “Keep Christ in Christmas.” By analyzing what we have done before and carefully choosing what we will do this year, we can accomplish that goal. Sharon L. Bratcher has collected 45 of her RP articles into a book, which is available by contacting her at [email protected]....

Red heart icon with + sign.
Interview with an artist

Joanne Stoffels is on a treasure hunt

Kleanza Creek18” x 36"Acrylic on canvasClear, cool, shade and light; Kleanza Creek near Terrace, BC is a spectacular stop along the highway. The lighting in this scene challenged me. Interview with an artist ***** Smithers, BC artist Joanne Stoffels believes life is a treasure hunt for beauty. And she finds an endless source of inspiration right outside her window in ever-changing mountains, dramatic cloudscapes, tiny blue forget-me-not blooming in her garden, and in the fragile, fleeting beauty of the cherry blossom. Scanning for compositions and framing scenes through windows has become a way of life for Joanne: “My six children, all grown now, and my patient husband humor me as they are called once again to observe the magnificence and share the joy.” Stoffels “sees” paintings while singing the Psalms, or reading Scripture. She often feels as though a painting is just “waiting to burst forth from the edges of my imagination – abstract colours and shapes moving across the page.” The term gloryscope (something she picked up from pastor and author Paul Tripp) resonates deeply with Joanne and she hopes that her artistic creations will draw others closer to the wonders of the true Creator. Stoffels started to paint about 10 years ago, sticking mostly to subjects which she has personally experienced. Mountains, forests and the alpine feature prominently. “Many of my paintings are of places that hold a special memory. Some work is more representational, some leans more to ‘abstract landscape.’” Stoffels is curious about other artists’ experiences too. Especially in her first years of art, she explored the work of Emily Carr and the Group of Seven. “The writings of Emily Carr gave me a feeling of kinship, ‘trying to get that joyous worshipping into the woods and mountains, the works of the Lord.’” She admires the way the Group of Seven in particular have captured our immense, glorious country in a “bold and raw new kind of art.” Currently Joanne works when she can in her dining room/studio whenever inspiration strikes. “Our home has quite a creative, relaxed vibe to it. An easel might be up and the table littered with supplies for several weeks before we tidy it all up again, scrape paint from the table, and use it for guests or family dinner.” She sells her work privately and through a thriving artisan shop in Smithers, called Out of Hand. You can follow Joanne on Instagram @paintingsbyjoannestoffels. You can also connect with the artist by email at [email protected]. Also, some of her work has been transformed into stickers, available on her daughter Montana’s blueskyartshop.square.site store. Late Summer 12” x 36" Acrylic on canvas - This bright piece captures a late summer sunset from our driveway. In the evening the world melts into blocks of colour. If you have a suggestion for an artist you’d like to see profiled in RP please email Jason Bouwman at [email protected]. You can also follow Jason on Instagram: @jaybouwman....

Red heart icon with + sign.
Science - Creation/Evolution

Is creation worth fighting about?

Billions of years, or just six days, do we need to care?   ***** Does it matter? Of all the questions in the creation vs. theistic evolution debate, whether the debate even matters may be the biggest, and more important than how long it took, what method God used, or how to understand the opening chapters of Genesis. Christians understand we shouldn’t bicker with our brothers and sisters over minor matters – Jesus told us: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God” (Matt. 5:9). God doesn’t want us to make big out of little. He doesn’t want us to be quarrelsome, nitpicking all sorts of fights. However, God also warns against making little of big. There is a time and place for fighting, and we mustn’t be like the watchman on the wall who saw the danger coming and stayed quiet (Ezek. 33:6-8). It is a con to say “peace, peace” when war is at the door (Ezek. 13:10-16, Jer. 6:14). Now, in the creation vs. theistic evolution debate, there are a lot of Christians who aren’t prepared to pick a side. They aren’t loyal to 6 days or billions of years, perhaps believing they need a theology or science degree to be qualified to take a stand. They don’t want to be forced to pick one team over the other. However, when the question is “Does this matter?” then not picking a side is still picking a side. Refusing to choose is only legitimate if this is no big thing. So is it really no big thing… or is it huge? To answer that question, let’s look at both sides. Side 1: Who matters more than how Among the “can’t we all get along” folks, the focus is on just how much agreement there is between 6-day creationists and theistic evolutionists. Both acknowledge the God of the Bible as our Creator. We all agree He made us, and that His creative genius is evident in the whole of the astonishing universe around us. Whether we’re looking at the Sun that warms us from 150 million kilometers away, or the chubby toes of our newest grandbaby, we’re all in awe of what He hath wrought. And isn’t that basis enough for fellowship? The argument here is that Who did it matters much more than how He did it, or how long He took. Who matters more than how. As long as Christians all give God the credit, then isn’t everything else incidental? Side 2: How tells us all about Who On the other side there is a ready concession that Who does indeed matter more than how. After all, God matters more than His creation. But how He started it all isn’t incidental. It matters too, because how God chose to create reveals God’s character. How He created tells us about Who God is. So yes, both sides agree it is the God of the Bible who created, but that isn’t as significant as it might first seem. Consider the Muslims, who also declare that the God of the Bible created. And they say their Allah has no Son. That means their biblical creator god, isn’t actually God. Orthodox Jews worship the God who created, but deny Jesus is God. Mormons worship a biblical god who created and even has a son…but he also has a wife. And his son is said to be the brother of Satan. Their creator god is not our Creator God either. It is possible, then, to worship such a distorted image of the biblical Creator that you aren’t actually worshiping God at all. This issue is that big. The argument here is that how God created is an issue worth investigating because, in His chosen means, God is teaching us about Himself – God reveals Himself not only in His Word but also in His creation (Ps. 19:1-4). As Paul puts it in Romans 1:20: “…His invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made.” The how matters because it tells us all about Who. What do the two creation accounts tell us about God? What then, do the two different creation accounts teach us about God? Creationists worship a God whose power was such that He spoke into existence something from nothing, and made a universe appear in just 6 days. Thus the famed chicken and egg dilemma is no dilemma at all for creationists, who know the chicken sprung into being fully formed on Day 5. And while pagans worship the Sun, God showed His great power by creating light (Day 1) before even creating a light source (the Sun on Day 4). Both marriage and the two sexes, male and female, were created in this 6-day period. God affirmed again and again that what He made was “good” and, upon completion on Day 6, even “very good.” What is good? The perfect sinless world was good. And it was good, not only as it was on Day 6, but even as it was being made through Days 1-5 – God found the process good too. Creationists know that death appeared as a result of Man’s disobedience – we broke the world. But there is hope; this enemy, death, has been conquered by Christ’s perfect obedience. And it is through Jesus that the world will be made good once again. The god of theistic evolution took billions of years to form the universe. During that process neither the chicken nor the egg was first: they were preceded by millions of years of incremental evolution that necessarily involved a red-in-tooth-and-claw, survival-of-the-fittest, where the weak were killed off and the strong went on to breed. Death didn’t simply precede Man’s fall into sin, it preceded Man by millions of years. And rather than being the enemy, death was a key tool in God’s creative work. Marriage and gender weren’t always so, but evolved at some point, and who knows but that they may be evolving still. And it is this eons-long process of constant change – with its refining diseases, innumerable mutations, repeated disasters, and, yes, death, death, and more death – that God was calling good and very good in the opening chapters of Genesis. The implications extend to the present, where creationists can turn to Scripture for guidance on issues like homosexuality, marriage, and gender confusion. We can learn what is best for men and women by seeing how God made us at the beginning. But if we evolved, and that process was good, why couldn’t we be evolving still? Our forebearers, when once they were single-celled, weren’t divvied into two genders – that only came later. So if we could go from none to two genders, why can’t we evolve new additions like ze and zir? And why would we presume that marriage has to be between just the first two genders? What answer does theistic evolution have to the craziness of our age? Does theistic evolution present a false god? Thus the god of theistic evolution bears little resemblance to God of the Bible. But does that mean theistic evolutionists are without hope? Are they worshipping a false god? Thankfully, it is not our brilliance that saves us, but God’s grace. And that’s why, even as some theistic evolutionists worship a god of their own invention, we can hope and pray and expect that many others still worship the true God, though in their inconsistency. They might say they believe in billions of years of death, but their faith is still in the God who declared death an enemy and conquered it. They may doubt the accuracy of some of Jesus’s words – how he spoke of a literal Adam and Eve created in the beginning (Mark 10:6, Matt. 19:4) – and yet cling to His promise that there are many rooms in His Father’s house (John 14:2). They may mangle the first few chapters of Genesis, but then take God at His Word for the whole of the rest of the Bible. That doesn’t make this any less of a big deal. Over a lifetime people do work out their inconsistencies. Many theistic evolutionists will either come to acknowledge God’s Word as authoritative from beginning to end, or they’ll subject the rest of God’s Word to further review and revision by outside authorities. It’s no slippery slope fallacy to say that if you scratch a professing Christian who’s pro-choice or LGBT-affirming, underneath you’ll find an evolutionist. Conclusion Like Allah, without a son, the god of theistic evolution offers no hope. In seeing billions of years of death as good and very good, what need would such a god even have to send his son to die for us? Thankfully, the one true God did send His Son, so we can have not only hope but an assurance that our sins are paid for, death is defeated, sickness will end, and all of creation will be redeemed. The creation debate isn’t one any Christian can avoid – it is of the first importance, because it is about Who God is....

Red heart icon with + sign.
News

Saturday Selections – Nov. 25, 2023

Refuting Mormonism – is there only one God? (9 min) It can be a bit confusing to nail down whether Mormons teach that we can become gods, and whether, consequently, there were gods before God. Official materials will seemingly deny it on the one hand, and on the other share how founder Joseph Smith taught his followers that God "was once as one of us," and how the fifth LDS President Lorenzo Snow crafted this couplet: "As man now is, God once was: As God now is, man may be." But as Jeff Durbin shows in this clip, that is not what the Bible teaches in Is. 43:10-11 and elsewhere. Turning cow poop into gas to run the tractors Some environmental sorts still see overpopulation as a threat to the planet. But God's people know He gave us a brain to problem-solve with, and two hands to put to work. So we can be creative like our Maker, and come up with intriguing energy-producing, pollution-reducing ideas like turning poop into fuel. Daddy has to work now... If your kids think work is the place that takes daddy from them, then they'll view it quite negatively. So how can we instill a biblical view of work in our kids? The insanity of denying free will To justify their rebellion against God, smart people can believe the craziest things... Potty humor from Old Testament times In 2 Kings 10:27 we read of Israel's King Jehu cleaning house by killing Baal's priests and tearing down his temple. But we get one more detail thrown in - the temple wasn't just destroyed, it was desecrated: "...people have used it for a latrine to this day." An archeological find shows that Judah's King Hezekiah may have done something similar, though more symbolically, one hundred years later. A "symbolic toilet" was found in a dig at Tel Lachish in what some archeologists believed to be a small shrine. They think the purpose was simply to desecrate the unknown false god's place of worship. Or as Newsweek's Kastalia Medrano put it: "Hezekiah's behavior basically stemmed from his belief that his ancestors hadn't worshipped piously enough by turning to other gods, a lapse he apparently intended to remedy by both literally and figuratively defecating on holy places set up to worship those gods." Does earth have methods to regulate climate? Here's an account of climate regulators that the climate models either haven't taken into account at all, or to the right extent. Billions of ways to die (2 min) The authors of Your Designed Body want us to understand while there are billions of ways to die, everything has to go just right for us to be alive. ...

Red heart icon with + sign.
Sexuality

Make it up as you go: Alfred Kinsey’s sex research

“Research” that opposes God’s law will be exposed…. eventually ***** When an immoral agenda is being advocated on the basis of “scientific” evidence, there is good reason to be suspicious. Science has a certain aura to it in Western societies, so promoting a particular view as being the “scientific” one is a clever strategy. However, sometimes the scientific veneer is just a Trojan Horse. This has been the case with some of the most influential social science of the twentieth century. Perhaps more than any other single individual, Professor Alfred C. Kinsey of Indiana University could be blamed (or credited) with the breakdown of traditional morality in the USA and other major English-speaking countries. Kinsey was a pioneer “sex researcher” who published two ground-breaking studies, one on male sexual behavior (1948) and the other on female sexual behavior (1953), which rocked the Western world and led to the liberalization of laws regulating sexual conduct in the USA and other countries. That’s a notable accomplishment for one man. During much of the twentieth century science was seen as providing the answers to many of humanity’s problems, so any perspective couched in the language of science received instant respect and credibility. Kinsey was able to take advantage of this prevailing attitude to push his own personal political agenda of sexual freedom. He correctly figured that scientific data “proving” that most people were secretly promiscuous in one way or another would provide a powerful impetus to overthrow traditional conservative views. Kinsey thus conducted his “research” in such a way that it would produce the results he wanted. Judith Reisman unmasks Kinsey Beginning in the 1980s another American researcher, Dr. Judith Reisman, began uncovering the real truth behind Kinsey’s work. She discovered the deliberately fraudulent basis of Kinsey’s influential studies and began to actively alert people to the fact that many changes in American law and culture had been initiated on the basis of this fraud. Dr. Reisman’s work is very important but she is yet to receive the attention and credit that she is due for her efforts. This work  has been summarized in a small book – just 84 pages – by Susan Brinkmann, called The Kinsey Corruption: An Expose on the Most Influential “Scientist” of Our Time. There are many reasons to be outraged over Kinsey’s research, but we will touch on just two of them here. 1) He skewed his data Social science research often involves surveys of the general public. A large group of people is given a set of particular questions, then the answers to those questions are compiled and the survey results are considered to be empirical evidence regarding the issue being studied. Presumably the group of people surveyed is representative of the wider population. With this in mind it’s not too difficult for an unethical researcher to produce research that will give him the specific results he wants. If he knows beforehand that certain people are likely to give him particular answers to his questions, he can target those people for his survey so that he deliberately gets a larger proportion of them in his survey sample. Thus the results of his “scientific” study will be heavily weighted in favor of the results he wants. This is basically what Kinsey did. Kinsey’s research was based on survey data which he claimed represented the American population. But it did not represent the American population, and he knew it. His data included a disproportionately large percentage of people who engaged in sexually immoral behavior. "In an outrageous example, Kinsey classified 1,400 criminals and sex offenders as 'normal' on the grounds that such miscreants were essentially the same as other men – except that these had gotten caught." So the information about sexual behavior provided by these 1,400 degenerate men was considered to represent the sexual behavior of average American males. When it’s understood how Kinsey undertook much of his research, it’s not surprising that according to his, "skewed data, 95 per cent of the American male population regularly indulged in deviant sexual activities such as extra-marital affairs, homosexuality, pedophilia, etc.” 2) He relied on rapists’ “data” More outrageous, however, is the way Kinsey obtained data about children’s sexual behavior. In short, children were sexually abused and the abusers would then provide information to Kinsey. One of the chief sources of information about children “was later discovered to be Rex King, the serial child rapist responsible for the rapes of more than 800 children.” Kinsey in Canada Reisman’s research focuses primarily on the USA where Kinsey worked and had the most obvious impact. However, Kinsey’s influence spread throughout the English-speaking world. Here in Canada, Kinsey’s studies have been used to justify cultural and legal changes as well. In 1969 Canada’s law was changed to legalize homosexuality. In the debates over this change, Kinsey was cited as an authority. For example, in the House of Commons on January 23, 1969, one MP read from an article stating that, “Homosexuality is now known to be much more widespread than was thought in the past, as the researches of Dr. Kinsey and others have shown.” He goes on to say that, Dr. Kinsey concluded “that 37 per cent of the male population of the United States had had some homosexual experience between the beginning of adolescence and old age.” This MP then refers to Kinsey further. One of the documents cited most commonly in favor of legalizing homosexuality in Canada was the Wolfenden Report. This report was an official document produced in the 1950s for the British government recommending liberalization of laws relating to prostitution and homosexuality. In England, the recommendations on prostitution were implemented in 1959 and the recommendations for homosexuality were implemented in 1967. The Wolfenden Report was widely seen as very authoritative and it was unquestionably influential in the changes made to Canada’s law on homosexuality. In the House of Commons on January 24, 1969, one Liberal MP pointed out that the government’s proposals for legalizing homosexuality were based on the “recommendations of the Wolfenden committee.” He goes on to point out that the government’s perspective is “very close to the philosophy of the Wolfenden Report.” Throughout the Parliamentary debate, the Wolfenden Report is cited over and over again. Why is this relevant? Because Alfred Kinsey’s “research” on homosexuality was a source for the Wolfenden Report itself. The committee that produced the Wolfenden Report considered Kinsey to be an authority on homosexuality and freely referred to his work. In this respect, Kinsey indirectly influenced the change in Canadian law through his impact on the Wolfenden Report. In 1982 Canada adopted the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. However, the federal and provincial governments were given three years to bring their laws into conformity to the Charter’s provisions on equality rights before they came into effect. A Parliamentary committee on equality rights traveled the country in 1985 to get citizen feedback on how the Charter’s equality provisions should be interpreted. Numerous homosexual activists made presentations to this committee advocating their perspective. It was common during these presentations for the activists to refer to Kinsey’s research as a justification for homosexual rights. For example, during a presentation to the committee in Vancouver on May 27, 1985, an activist claimed, “Approximately 10% of the population in Canada is gay.” Subsequently, MP Svend Robinson asked the presenter, “You made reference to 10%. I assume this is based on the studies by Kinsey and a number of others.” The activist replied, “That was the Kinsey Report, the 1948 studies, yes.” Another activist testified before the committee in Winnipeg on May 30, 1985, stating that "Our individual and collective experience has provided us with every reason to think that the statistics deduced by the Kinsey Institute in the 1940s were correct: that about 10% of the population is homosexual." On that same day another activist said, “Statistically, the invisible homosexual minority makes up approximately 10% of the population of this country.” And in yet another presentation, a United Church minister remarked, “We point out that about 10% of the population, according to sociological figures, are of homosexual orientation.” The point here is that Kinsey’s studies were viewed as pertinent and relevant to the advancement of homosexual rights here in Canada. His data provided an apparent scientific authority for arguments in favor of homosexual rights. But Kinsey had deliberately skewed his research to get the kind of figures that would support the changes in law and culture that he desired. Kinsey: the movie Some liberals have been concerned about the erosion of Kinsey’s credibility that has resulted from Reisman’s efforts. A Hollywood movie (appropriately entitled Kinsey) was made in 2004 to bolster Kinsey’s reputation. It starred Liam Neeson as Kinsey himself. You won’t learn about his fraud in this movie, though. Brinkmann writes that this movie “presents the life and work of Alfred C. Kinsey in the most glowing terms. Instead of presenting the facts, it glorifies him as a persecuted hero who found himself trapped in a world of sexual repression.” Conclusion Brinkmann notes in the conclusion of her book that the “legacy of Alfred C. Kinsey’s twisted life and work can be read daily in the ever-worsening moral condition of our country.” Of course, Kinsey alone cannot be blamed for the moral decline of the Western countries, but he certainly deserves more blame than just about anybody else. Kinsey is still widely recognized as an authority on sexual behavior despite the fact that the truth has begun to come out – his research is not reliable. This provides good grounds to be suspicious of “studies” promoting various aspects of modern sexual promiscuity, whether homosexual or heterosexual. When viewed carefully, many studies purporting to support various trendy views will be found to be faulty. Most researchers aren’t unethical like Kinsey. But all researchers (whether left-wing or right-wing) are influenced by their worldview – their studies will likely confirm their preconceived views. Social science is not like physical science where you can get precise measurements that are repeatable, giving exactly the same results every time. Social science is much more subjective than that. In other words, the rule “don’t believe everything you read” should be doubly applicable whenever the media reports a new study allegedly demonstrating that monogamy among human beings is unnatural, or that homosexual couples are better parents than heterosexuals, and other such things. Sure, that’s what the study concluded. But you have good grounds for being skeptical about the study itself. These kinds of studies have been flawed or “fixed” before, so the rational response is skepticism. This was first published in the March 2015 issue....

Red heart icon with + sign.
News

Saturday Selections – Nov. 18, 2023

Why Jeff Bezos isn't as wealthy as you think This is not a Christian video, but in explaining why covetous plans for Amazon founder Jeff Bezos' wealth might well cause more harm than good, we see here another illustration of how God's 10th Commandment is an example of not simply His righteousness, but also His love - obeying His Law is better for us. Ayaan Hirsi Ali: Why I am now a Christian Hirsi, a former Muslim who bravely spoke out about Islam, is now calling herself a Christian. However, if the reasons she gives in this essay are the total of her profession of faith (Christ warrants one mention, and repentance none) then she may not yet be, though we can hope and pray God will continue to move her. Her profession does make a compelling practical case for Christianity. She is sharing that the world needs Christianity to be free. Problems with preferred pronouns "All we’re being asked to do is change one word. It’s a simple request. Just use a different pronoun. It might seem like a no-brainer for a believer to comply. Why cause unnecessary tension by refusing a request to be courteous?" Alan Shlemon explains why it really matters. Creationists are exploring new territory. When a fish gets trapped in a lightless cave, and its future progeny lose their eyes, creationists have noted that this was a loss of, and not a gain of, function. Or, in other words, this sort of "evolutionary evidence" didn't prove evolution at all, since, at best, it might have indicated that a man could eventually devolve into a molecule but it gave no insight into how a molecule could ever evolve into a man. Creationists are now testing whether even such a devolution might be the result of brilliant design. Could it be the result of a built-in ability to adapt to changed environmental circumstances? Creationists are setting out to answer that question... and the preliminary results are in. James Tour calls evolutionists' bluff YouTube "experts" often tout supposed advances in origin-of-life theory. But Intelligent Design proponent Dr. James Tour exposed that for the lie it is, challenging leading experts to show that they've solved any of five fundamental problems origin-of-life theory faces. And no one could. Lots of technical language in this one, but to explain by way of analogy, if scientists claimed that evolution could build a rocket to the moon, Tour is willing to pretend that evolution has indeed built the rocket and then is asking evolutionists to explain only how their theory accounts for the refined rocket fuel. And the fact they can't explain the origin of the smaller thing highlights how they certainly haven't made any progress on the more fundamental issues. Even with living things all around to offer examples and blueprints, and even with supercomputers to aid their theorizing, scientists still can't offer even the basics of how life could have come about by unguided evolution. And let's not forget that these same scientists still can't create life on purpose, even with intelligence, blueprints, supercomputers, and refined chemicals. Wind power on the grand scale envisioned is still an unproven technology Germany is one of the world's leading wind power producers, and they are having troubles. The iron law of woke projection At the risk of belaboring the joke below, I'm going to harp on how it is funny because it is true. Christians are often attacked for the very things our attackers are doing to us. "You're just trying to force your morals on everyone," says the atheist trying to force his morals on us. So, when you are attacked, don't get defensive. Recognize their attack for what it really is: an attempt to deflect from their own behavior. Point them back to God. Let them know that even if their accusations were true  – even if we're horrible hypocrites – our wickedness isn't going to be any sort of defense for them before their Maker. The only "excuse" available to them is through turning to Jesus, and begging Him to cover their sins with His blood. ...

Red heart icon with + sign.
Amazing stories from times past

The Parable of Ryker and Samwell

“As water reflects the face, so one’s heart reflects the man.” Prov. 27:1 ***** Luke rightly says that out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. That is to say, the heart is the core of one’s most basic beliefs, and words provide a glimpse into Man's heart. It does not matter who a person is – butcher, baker or undertaker – words reveal his soul. CHAPTER 1 – A baby at last My birthplace of Harston in East Lincolnshire did not have a large number of inhabitants – neither before or after I was born. Hidden in rolling hill country, it was even considered backwater by some. But we always reckoned our burg, with its one to two thousand residents, as a decent size. This number did not even take into account the souls who lived in outlying areas, tenant farmers and scattered cottagers, all of whom had a certain predilection for country living. Our town proper boasted a doctor, a lawyer, a banker, teachers, and a preacher. Housewives, clerks, carpenters, grooms and saddlers either paced or ambled the packed-down dirt sidewalks and children visited the local park to feed the ducks. There was even a railway station on Station Road and a small but well-stocked library straight across from it. Mercer Street had textile shops, an inn, and a bakery. Harston's roads, although not paved, were well-traveled. Days prior to the bi-weekly market held just outside its east limits, were alive with bellowing and bleating during the summer months – audible signs of life as farmers drove their four-legged produce through the streets to the local butcher shop for slaughter. The day of the market itself was noisy as well, roads abuzz with clamant vendors and townsfolk eager to bargain for good deals. Although certain protocols were associated with living in our community, such as the few wealthier families having calling cards, the truth was that most of the citizenry were just common folk. A number resided in plain brick houses along the main avenues of Crown Street and Rudwall Lane. The balance of Harston's inhabitants, however, lived in modest thatched homes on lanes akin to alleyways, and they lived without the benefit of butlers, maids, or cooks. Households were a decent size, with four or five children in each home. The homes, mind you, were small, often only consisting of two or three rooms. We, my father, mother, and myself, lived on Hillbrook Street, a middle-class street, considered neither rich nor poor, and we had a small garden in the back of our two-story house. My father, who was a self-appointed teacher of sorts, greatly admired the writings of the Anglican bishop, J.C. Ryle. Thus when I was born in 1889, I was named and baptized Ryle – Ryle Harrison to be exact. My mother later told me that I had cried lustily when the water dribbled down my forehead and that my father had been somewhat embarrassed by these wails. Nevertheless, she told me, her eyes growing soft as she spoke, he had cradled me in his arms with great tenderness and love during the ceremony. Hearing this as a young boy prone to admire Goliath figures, I was a trifle embarrassed, feeling quite keenly one should not use soppy words like “tenderness” and “love” with regard to men. But inside my heart I was warmed by the thought that my father, a rather stern but just man to be sure, felt more than a modicum of affection for me. I was not a sturdy boy to look at. Rather skinny, fair-haired and prone to sniffles and coughs, there often rose within me a covetousness to be more strapping and robust. But I run ahead of myself. When my mother was expecting me, there was rejoicing in our home on Hillbrook Street – indeed, there was a very great thankfulness. A baby coming at last after my mother and father had hoped and prayed for years and years. We were, as I said, middle class and had the faithful, domestic help of a woman who had known Mother since she was a child. Plump, good-natured Cora, born and raised in Harston, was both our cook and maid, and she confidentially passed on to me many interesting paragraphs out of my parents' diary – details of past events which had happened before I was born or when I had been but a little tacker. "Master Ryle," she would say, often expressing an opinion in double negatives, "Your mother was quite sure she would rock no cradle, never. And seeing as to how she'd been married to your father for more than fifteen years, I was quite sure she was right. But then many's the time the stork's visited them thought to be barren. And isn't that the way of it?" Cora told me this while she was letting me lick out the bowl of pudding she had made for dessert that evening. With my mouth full of sweetness, it was difficult for me to respond. Not that Cora ever needed much of a response to what she was saying. She was as full of words as my mouth was of custard. My father often raised his eyebrows as she prattled on and I, ever trying to be like him even as I swallowed the pudding, raised mine. "Yes, sir!" she went on, oblivious to my apparent surprise, "and your mother cried tears of happiness. It's a good thing I was here to see to things – to cook and clean proper, mind you, because she wasn't up to doing nothing." "Yes, Cora," I mumbled, lowering my eyebrows again while I was licking the spoon clean, but she wasn't listening. "And that was the time, strangely enough, that the Sparrows moved into town. Not into Harston proper, mind you, but into the farmstead down Furrow Lane, to the south of here." I nodded again, scraping the bowl with the spoon for what was left. "And wouldn't Providence have it, but that Sarah Sparrow was expecting too. And wouldn't Providence have it as well, but that she and Sam had also been praying and hoping for a little one for many, many years." Here Cora stopped yattering, quite out of breath. I sighed, sorry that the pudding bowl was shining and clean. "And that's how," Cora ended her communication, "there was a friendship begun between Sarah Sparrow and your mother, Master Ryle." She lifted me off the counter where I had been sitting, patted my backside and shooed me out of the kitchen. “Now off with you, young Sir,” she called, “for I have work to do and surely you want dinner tonight." ***** It was true about the friendship between my parents and the Sparrows beginning at this time. Sam and Sarah Sparrow had freshly moved in from London during the time when both my mother and Sarah Sparrow were expecting their first baby. Sam, a burly, big fellow, was a farming tenant of one of the wealthiest farmers in Harston – Ryker Bitter. Ryker Bitter was the owner of one of the largest estates on the outskirts of Harston. He had lots of money, but possessed neither capacity nor willingness to share. As a tenant farmer, Sam Sparrow was better off than many farm laborers who occupied the very small and dank cottages of their employers. Although Sam did have to sign off a significant portion of his proceeds to Bitter, if he managed the rented property well, he could become fairly affluent. Sam and Sarah lived in a good-sized farmhouse and I loved visiting them. Sarah Sparrow was adept at weaving, spinning and quilting, and had come by Hillbrook Street one day to show Mother a comforter she had made. Sarah had heard from other townsfolk that Mother might be interested in purchasing one. As the two women interacted in the front room, they naturally began to speak of the coming births of their babies. A common bond was kindled because both had been forced to wait for more than a decade for their first child. Mother was due a month before Sarah Sparrow was expected to give birth. They promised one another that they would visit back and forth. They laughed with one another as visible kicks poked bumps into their aprons, and they discussed myriad names for their unborn progeny. CHAPTER 2 – The birth of Samwell When Mother began labor it was a week or two before her time, so Cora told me, and it was a misty and rainy night. Unhappily, the Harston midwife was visiting a daughter in London and the doctor was late in coming. To all appearances it seemed that I would be born without medical assistance. My father, Cora said, was in such a nervous state that he was ready to go and carry the man to Hillbrook Street on his back, but he did not want to leave my mother alone. "I thought a teacher and an educated man like your father," she spouted philosophically, "wouldn't have been so fretful." I stared at her. Cora then added matter-of-factly, "He didn't place no confidence in me delivering you neither." I nodded sympathetically, rather liking the fact that my birth had been the focus of such attention, and sat up straighter. Cora was polishing the silverware, allowing me to hand her the forks and spoons as she worked. "Did the doctor finally come?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. "Yes, he did," she sighed, even as she rubbed a cloth over a butter dish, "but he was a sorry case, he was. Wet with rain, he dripped all over the hall carpet, he did." "And then what happened?" I prodded her, even though I knew perfectly well what she would say next. "Well, your father yanked off the doctor's coat so fearfully hard that the man almost fell over, and then he proceeded to pull him up the stairs." "And he forgot his bag," I added, for Cora had forgotten that part. "Yes, indeed! And once he was up, didn't he have to go down and fetch it a minute later?" I smiled. Dr. Pillblight was a sour man, to say the least, one who rarely gave patients a smile. It was a game with me to try and make him do so, but his lips seemed permanently frozen to scowl. Yet he had been forced to walk down our stairs to get his black bag when I was about to be born. That was something which made me smile. "And then coming down the stairs, he tripped," I went on, "tripped and sprained his ankle." "Yes," Cora affirmed, her round cheeks quivering busily as she nodded her head, "and this was just when there was a knock at the door and when I went to answer, there was Sarah Sparrow standing on the doorstep." "And she livered me," I proudly went on. "Delivered, Master Ryle," Cora corrected, shaking her buxom jowls this time, "the word is 'delivered.' And she herself as big as a volcano about to erupt." So it came about that Sarah Sparrow helped Mother during the last part of her labor and she it was whose hands first lifted me up and laid me on my mother's belly so that she could see me. A skinny youngling, puling and oblivious to the people about me, Mother says I kept my eyes shut for two days. ***** Mother never let Sarah's act of kindness nor her expertise at midwifery slip from her memory. Father remembered it as well, and in this way a true friendship was forged between our two families – the families of Harrison and Sparrow – and, consequently, between myself and Sarah's baby. ***** It was during the month after I was born that Sarah's time of confinement also came. When Mother heard, via Cora and other townsfolk, that Sarah was in labor, she walked down to the farmstead where the Sparrows lived. Mother pushed me, a six-week-old baby, along in a pram. With big wheels and a wooden handlebar, it bounced me up and down, up and down, but it did not deter Mother's determination to go to her friend. A container of broth for Cora was positioned precariously on the blanket by my feet, and mother carefully avoided large potholes and mud puddles. Arriving at the Sparrows’ home, she gingerly lifted the soup out of the carriage and carried the pan to the back door. Met by Ruby, the midwife, she asked if there was anything she might do to help. Ruby took the soup from her hands, smiled and was about to send her home when a voice from the bedroom cried out. "Is that Maudie? Please, I want to see her." The midwife shrugged and stood back. Mother, however, did not walk in straightaway. She first returned to the carriage, and lifted me out. Then, with me in her arms, we both entered the farmhouse. I was sleeping soundly, drooling milk bubbles on my chin, so Mother later informed me, and thus do not recall a word of the conversation that ensued between mother and Sarah. Cora, who was close with Ruby, later told me that Sarah had been greatly distressed, distressed to the point of tears. "Something's wrong, Maudie," she had burst out while the midwife was bringing the soup to the kitchen, "I know something's wrong." "Hush," Mother replied, dandling me, "Hush, dear. I know things are difficult right now, but just wait. Before you know it, you'll be holding a little one just as I am holding Ryle." "No, I am afraid. Please pray with me, Maudie. Please!!" So Mother prayed. With me in her arms, she prayed for a well baby, a healthy life, and a healthy mother. "Pray it again, Maudie. Pray that the baby will be well." So Mother prayed the same words again. Years later, years after little Sam was born, my mother still vividly remembered that she had been sure that Sarah's instincts about her child had been right. At that moment she would, without fail, add these words: "But there is no sin in asking God for wellness, is there?" Ruby, who had been listening in the doorway as Mother prayed, was all ears, and it was mainly her blurting out that prayer to Cora and others in town that caused Sam's name tag to become Samwell. ***** Sheep farming and the wool trade brought profitable business to our area. I mention this only because Sam Sparrow raised sheep and he was good at it. Ryker Bitter rented out farmland to Sam Sparrow. He used that land, called in-bye land, for pasturing heads of sheep. As well, Sam hunted grouse and other wildlife on that land, and often sold produce at the market. The wool from his sheep, Lincoln Longwool, was much in demand and he did rather well in bartering with certain textile manufacturers. His sheep produced the heaviest, longest and most lustrous fleece and it made hard wearing cloth. Although a great deal of his earnings disappeared into Ryker Bitter's pocket, Sam himself also gained financial standing. The eastern port of Boston, not too far off, was a place of economic interaction. Centuries before, the merchants of the Hanseatic League had established their guild in Boston and many ships came to its port. There had been issues with water diversion to neighboring fens, but a canal had been cut, and a sluice constructed. The result of these endeavors was a navigable communication, of a lucrative nature, with a number of shires, our shire included. Boston was a major trading center for wool and Sam Sparrow had been born to raise sheep. My father sometimes joked that instead of herding children, he ought to herd sheep. But then mother would remind him that the children in his study were also sheep and he would laugh and pat her on the cheek. Samuel Sparrow was born later that same day – that day my mother had visited Sarah, pushing me in the pram. Baby Sam was born with a short neck, a flattened facial profile and his almond eyes seemed slanted. Ruby, the midwife, was a bit disconcerted by the way the neonate felt somewhat floppy in her arms; by the fact that he made no effort to squeeze her hands. Consequently, on the third day after his birth she sent for Dr. Pillblight who arrived carrying his black bag. After he had examined the baby thoroughly, testing reflexes, and peering at his toes and fingers, he took off his glasses. "Well," he finally slowly asserted, as Ruby laid the baby back down in his cradle, "Well, I may as well tell you straight off that the boy is going to be slow." Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed and holding Sarah's hand. Ruby retreated to the doorway. "Slow?" Sarah repeated, a worried look on her face, as she pushed her head back into the pillow, "What do you mean 'slow'?" Sam said nothing, but let go of Sarah's hand. Then he stood up and deliberately walked over to the cradle. There he remained, studying his placid child. "I mean," the doctor continued, and later Sarah told Mother that he had actually been quite kind and sympathetic, "I mean that this boy ...." He stopped and searched for words before he continued. "This boy has all the characteristics of babies in a study I have been reading by a Dr. Down, a Dr. John Langdon Down to be precise. He fully describes some things in this study which I see in young Samuel here." "What do you mean?" Sarah reiterated, "What do you mean 'slow'?" Dr. Pillblight settled himself in a chair opposite the bed. "I mean," he continued, "that Samuel will probably be slower in learning how to walk. He has poor muscle tone. He will also very likely be slower in his mental ability." Sam and Sarah stared at one another and Sarah's eyes filled with tears. "Although," Dr. Pillblight continued cautiously, "it has been recorded that some children with these characteristics ...." He could not finish because Sam interrupted him. "What characteristics?" "Well," Dr. Pillblight rose and walked over to the cradle and stood next to Sam as he discoursed, "characteristics such as the wide space between his big toes and the other toes. Also, note that he has a very short neck and that his hands are very short." As he spoke, he uncovered the child to demonstrate what he had just said, and Sam again stared down at his unperturbed and sleeping son. "Note also," the doctor went on, "the baby's slanted eyes." "I had noticed that his eyes were unusual," Sarah later recounted to my mother, "and suddenly, looking at the baby's face as the doctor spoke, I knew that what the man said was true. Also, Samuel's tongue often came out of his mouth, almost as if it was too big for him to hold in." Sam Sparrow broke the ensuing silence, albeit fumbling for words. "What .... What can we do?" The doctor shrugged. "Just take care of him," he answered, "the study shows that children with this ... this abnormality, are susceptible to ailments. Some die in infancy; others live longer. It's in the hands of God and you will just have to take good care of him." He stooped over, picked up his black bag, and then, after a greeting, was gone. ***** Once she had finished grieving over and contemplating the fact that Samuel was a delicate and different sort of baby, Sarah proved to be an excellent mother. For one thing, she was very innovative. She devised ways to help the baby sit up. Talking to him continually, she coaxed sweet smiles from the flat, little face, crinkling the almond-shaped eyes. Wrapped up warmly, Samuel was taken for countless strolls. There was no place in Harston which did not recognize Sarah and her son. Most importantly, when people stopped her to have a look inside the carriage, she would not be ashamed. She bragged on him as if he were the most important, delightful and charming baby in the world. And because this baby was so beloved, he never stinted in giving spectators beaming smiles. Sarah often took Samuel, or Samwell, as he was beginning to be called by everyone, to Hillbrook Street where we lived. CHAPTER 3 – A beginning of books As I said before, my father was a teacher of sorts. (Although I hasten to add that he actually had no need of employment because he was a gentleman. That is to say, he had a good personal income from his mother's side of the family.) But he loved reading, studying various kinds of books, and took much pleasure in passing on his knowledge. I cannot recall a single evening when he did not peruse a book or a magazine of some sort with me. It was not until much later that I realized the enormous benefits I had reaped from having such a father. The 1800s had been a time period of much academic poverty in England and Wales. Out of the four plus million children of primary school age, two million received no schooling at all. Religious institutions had been set up by the church to teach children reading, writing, arithmetic and religion, but they did not meet the needs of the growing population. In 1870, about twenty years before I was born, the Elementary Education Act had been passed in Parliament to address the issue of poor children who were not being taught. The Act specified that school places were to be given to all children between the ages of five and twelve in schools run by qualified teachers. A fee was required though – a varying fee of between one and four pence a week. If a family could not afford such a fee, children could attend classes for free. But not many did. Before father had begun to transform our very large back room into a classroom, there had been a school of sorts on the outskirts of town. It had been run by a Mr. Dauper, a man who, as my mother said, was as addicted to a bottle of wine as he was to caning children. Supposed to be overseen by board members, this establishment was not well-run. Father visited the school once in the second year he and Mother moved to Harston and he came home much incensed. After speaking with several local officials, Father eventually became the new teacher and our back room was transformed into a classroom. It was an unusual situation, but my father was an unusual man. (There was a school in a neighboring shire, and a number of local children did attend that school.) When I was little, Mother and I often visited the Sparrow farmstead and they, in turn, visited us. Consequently, Samwell and I became compadres, brothers almost. In the beginning, both in nappies, we just slept side by side in front of the hearth. Later we played together, with me usually being the leader and Samwell agreeing, smiling, and a willing partner to most of the things I invented for us to do. When Father read to me, as he did most days, and Samwell was present, both of us would sit on his lap. I usually fidgeted at Father's stiff, starched collar which he would eventually take off and drop on the floor. At first he read us A,B,C books, Mother Goose, Jack and the Bean Stalk and the like; later we graduated to Robinson Crusoe, Rip Van Winkle, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Children's Stories from Dickens. When we were at the Sparrows’ farmstead, however, it was Sam Sparrow who read to us and not Father. Sam, although he did not shun A,B,C books and such, tended to stick to Bible stories. I did like the timber of his well-modulated, heavy voice and I will never forget how he related the way in which God created Adam from the dust of the ground. Sam stood up for this story, and picked up some imaginary dirt from the ground. After this he straightened his position, held the dirt in his arms like a baby while he rocked back and forth, gazing on the imagined dirt tenderly. Then Sam Sparrow bent his head and breathed the breath of life into this earthen baby. Samwell listened intently. He always did. I can still see him leaning his large head back against the cushion of the rattan chair, almond eyes steadily fixed on his father. So we grew – grew out of our nappies and were breeched, although I was breeched a full year before Samwell. He did not get his first pair of pants until he was four. We grew on, Samwell and I, into bigger and bigger lads. It is true that many things, things such as the breeching, took longer for Samwell. Indeed, it sometimes took him years longer to attain a level that I had achieved in a few months. It did not impact our fondness for one another. Samwell was never scanty with his smiles and affection. Though he did not speak quickly as a young lad, he babbled on so incessantly and gestured so amiably to all who would pay attention that he was a favorite of many folks in town. Sarah, as well, often read to him during the day, and with the help of my father, she obtained picture books. When Samwell saw things illustrated, he learned much quicker. Sam Sparrow, when he was able, always came in for the noon hour meal, frequently bringing men with him who were helping him with the sheep, because such was his success with the sheep raising that he was able to hire others. On one such day, when Mother and I were visiting the Sparrows, and Samwell and I were about four years of age, Sam and two of his men were seated at the table. Sarah and my mother were serving them fresh bread and some soup. Before eating, Sam Sparrow took off his hat and motioned that his men should do the same. "Let's say grace, lads," he announced, his voice pleasant and sure. Then he began. "Our Father in heaven, we thank You for this fine food. Bless it we pray and we thank You for ...." He did not finish. The side door opened as he spoke and it opened with an intrusive creak. The noise trespassed into Sam's prayer and was followed by its architect, Ryker Bitter. The man strode in boisterously, blatantly ignoring those sitting quietly around the table. We boys, Samwell and I, standing next to the table, watched him enter with our eyes wide open. Ryker was a large man and he had to bend his head so as not to bump it on the low door lintel. "Well, praying are we," he began, "and what are we praying about?" Sam Sparrow scraped back his chair – a wooden upright one with a woven seat – and stood up. "We are thanking God for our meal," he answered simply and clearly. "And what are you eating today, Sam?" Ryker mocked, "Is it a meal worthy of thanks? Well, will you look at that! Some plain bread and some watery soup." He laughed and cracked his knuckles at the same time. "When God provides food," Sam Sparrow countered, "then it is a fine meal. And we ought to thank Him for it." "Has He blessed you with a fine son too, Sam? Has He given you a fine child as well? I hear tell he's a bit slow. It would be a long time before I would thank God for a child like that!" The truth was that Ryker and Alice, his wife, had no children. Mother and Sarah stood silently at the board as Ryker was speaking. Both were motionless. I was closest to the door and could feel the vibration of Ryker's boot as it tapped the wooden floor. His boots were made of black leather. "Now that's a frail-looking tyke as well," Ryker boomed on, inspecting my person, "But well, I've not come to discuss food or children. I've come for the payment due on the farmstead, Sam." Mother walked over and reached for my hand. Then she walked me back to the board and resumed her position next to Sarah. Samwell had said not a word, but stood dreadfully still, his hand grasping the back of his father's chair. After Sam Sparrow and Ryker Bitter had left the room, it was as if an audible sigh of relief swept through the room. Mother walked over to the table and ladled soup into the bowls of the men. Talk resumed. Samwell laughed and was lifted into his special chair by Sarah, and I climbed into mine right next to him. The truth was that Ryker Bitter was easily the wealthiest man in the area. There were very few who dared to contradict him; very few who would consider disagreeing with him over even such a small matter as the weather. If Ryker Bitter complained that the sun was too hot, many would nod even though it might be a mild day; and if the man suggested that it would rain, umbrellas were taken out even though the sky overhead was blue. CHAPTER 4 – Growing in wisdom My father, and here I repeat myself again, was a self-appointed teacher. He loved reading and writing and did much of both. He had transformed our back room into a classroom and it was a classroom free of charge. For many of the fathers and mothers in Harston's poorer section, however, sending a child to school, even a school free of charge, meant the loss of a much-needed income, for often a child would be working at a job. Attendance at the school which had been run by Mr. Dauper had been poor at best, especially at times of harvest. Father made it known, I don't know how, perhaps by word of mouth, that he was willing to teach at any time to anyone disposed to learn. And so a steady stream of local boys passed through our home at odd times. Sometimes they would come an hour or so in the early morning, and sometimes evenings were convenient. They would knock and Cora let them in. She would instruct them to take off their shoes in the hallway and to hang their coats on one of the many wooden nogs that father had attached to the wall in the corridor. After thus being properly introduced to the house, they were ushered into Father's study. When I grew older, I was usually seated at a small wooden desk, hard at work when they came in (provided they came in the morning). For me there was reading, writing and arithmetic. Later Father added grammar, geography and history, being most insistent on that last subject. And gradually I advanced to other subjects – Latin, French, algebra and geometry. The local boys, however, were taught mostly to read and write, add and subtract. They were a serious lot, these boys who came. From time to time, Samwell also came to school. When Sarah visited with Mother, Samwell would inevitably find his way into the study. Father never forbade him. Samwell was rarely distracting to those who were learning and the other boys tolerated him with rather good humor. At first Samwell would simply sit on the floor of the study and watch me and the others. Whether we were reading, writing, or attempting to work out a mathematical problem, he was fascinated. After a while he would stand up and peer over someone's shoulder. If I, or anyone else looked at him, he would tilt his head and flash such a huge smile that no one had the heart to send him back to the floor. Standing behind me, he would often count the fingers of his right hand. It had taken Sarah a very long time to teach him this, and he himself was very pleased with this accomplishment. Laboriously and slowly, he was able to say the numbers one to five with as much conviction as if they were the breath of life to him. The action pleased him to no end and he would do it over and over, proudly and loudly. Father would eventually shush him and he would sit down on the floor again, his voice dropping down to an almost inaudible whisper, his hand held up in front of him as if it were a slate on which to draw. There was another subject which drew Samwell like no other. That subject was religion, or Bible stories. Doubtless because Sam Sparrow read to him most evenings out of the Bible, the boy was replete with the commandments, the prophets and all the stories of the New Testament. Actually, to say that Sam read to his son is a bit of an untruth. The truth is that Sam chanted or sang the stories to his son. Samwell could retell, or re-sing them in his own fashion, the favorite-by-far story being that of the good Shepherd. Samwell’s rather large, and sometimes protruding tongue, sometimes made his speech less than clear. At times it caused some of the village children to make fun of him, especially if he was singing one of his favorite songs while walking down the street. But woe to these children if one of the boys who frequented Father's study was close by. Quick punishment awaited them and Samwell, hardly aware of the mocking to which he had been subject, generally smiled his way through town. Singing in his low-pitched voice, although he could barely carry a tune, did not deter him from interacting with other folks, many other folks. Samwell was good friends with Mrs. Dalfry, who lived just outside Harston on the east side. She kept a rabbit warren in an enclosed field by her cottage. She farmed the rabbits for food and fur. The dry and rather sandy meadow tract by her home was enclosed with water-filled ditches to stop the coneys from escaping and she had fences to keep out the predators. Her husband, long dead, had been a warrener, someone who kept rabbits. He had built several oblong “pillow” mounds with stone-lined tunnels for the rabbits to live in. His was a rare occupation but rabbit meat was a delicacy and the price of rabbit meat and fur made it a rather lucrative business. Being that she was close to the market, Mrs. Dalfry often ran a rabbit booth. Samwell loved visiting Mrs. Dalfry and her warrens and she was fond of the child, often inviting him in for a chat of sorts. They would stroll in the field and she would show him the rabbits. Affectionate and happy, it was obvious that he loved her as well as the rabbits. Mrs. Dalfry was not Samwell's only friend. I believe he visited more people in Harston on a regular basis than our pastor, John Solls, who lived but a few houses down the street from us. Samwell also frequented Mistress Toynder, the baker's wife, who often gave him a cookie as he passed by; as well there was Joe Cobb the chimney sweep, who betimes let Samwell follow him and watch him work as he climbed some of the wealthier chimneys in town; and there were the countless grooms, housekeepers, clerks, carpenters and maids, all of whom developed a fondness for the child, or, as the years went by, for the kind and simple-hearted man Samwell was on the way to becoming. There was one person, however, who truly harbored no love for Samwell. That person was Ryker Bitter. Ryker actually had no great liking for me either and it could probably be surmised that he had no great liking for anyone besides himself. Still, for the young lad Samwell had grown into, the wealthy landowner showed an especial aversion. I believe that Samwell himself was aware of the animosity exerted towards himself by Ryker. When street-children mocked him, or laughed at something he did, he laughed right along with them. On the other hand, when Ryker Bitter stopped him on a path, or singled him out in the farmyard by his house and made degrading remarks, Samwell was puzzled. His almond eyes furrowed and he did not smile. He did not understand. He could not fathom that someone might not like him as he himself liked others. It pained him somewhat to see Ryker Bitter deride him. Not for his own sake, but for the man's sake. There was this singular characteristic about Samwell in that he was uniquely loving. That is to say, he understood much more with his heart and mind that most people gave him credit for. He could not always express with his mouth what his heart thought, but he felt, oh, he felt much and he sensed that Ryker Bitter was unhappy. ***** School-leaving age was generally around the age of fourteen. When I was a year and a few months past that age, my father tested me and judged me ready and qualified to write an entrance examination into a higher school of learning. There were two examinations for the University of Cambridge: the Junior (for students under sixteen years of age, into which category I fit), and the Senior (for students under the age of eighteen). These examinations took place in local “centers” – places like schools or church halls. The subjects the students were tested on were many and sundry. They included such topics as English language and literature, history, geography, geology, Greek, Latin, French, and so on. School exams took place over a period of six consecutive days and were set in the morning, afternoon, and evening. My presiding examiner arrived by train at the Station Street station. He wore a black, high hat and appeared very impressive. Upon seeing him, Samwell immediately asked his mother for a similar headpiece. She laughed and told him to ask Joe Cobb, the chimney sweep who wore a stovepipe hat. My heart was in my throat as I walked towards the church hall the first day. Both my father and Samwell accompanied me to the door. Father shook my hand. "I know you'll do well, Son." Samwell beamed a grand smile of affection and followed Father's example of handshaking. "Do well, Ryle." ***** Much to my relief, I did do well. The questions were easier than I had anticipated. For example, one of the questions in History was: Name in order the Queens and the children of Henry VIII. On what grounds was he divorced from his first wife? In Religion one of the questions read: In what three ways was our Lord tempted in the wilderness? ***** These, and other questions posed, did not present much difficulty and I passed the examinations with flying colors in those particular subjects, as well as in some others, much to Father's gratification. The only discipline in which I needed help was French, and Father was to tutor me in that during the next few months. Samwell was pleased also. He had not understood much of why I had to be at the church hall and stay there for a length of time each day during the week that I was examined. But he did know that it was important for me and was always waiting when I came out the side door. "Do well, Ryle?" he would ask me with his guttural tongue. I would nod and he would clap his hands in glee and follow up by thickly shouting, "Good, Ryle! Very good." CHAPTER 5 – A good shepherd We hadn't seen much of one another that summer, Samwell and I, as I had been busy studying with Father preparing me for the examinations. But Samwell had been training with his Father as well, who was grooming him to become more self-sufficient. It seemed only logical that Sam Sparrow, the sheep owner, should prep his son to take care of his own little flock of sheep. Sheep can be kept in a barn or some other enclosure fairly easily. There was a small barn near the Sparrow farm. It stood on one and a half acres of land in which Samwell was now keeping ten sheep. He was inordinately proud of his little flock and spent much of his time counting the sheep on the fingers of his hand. He knew that if he counted his hand twice, then that was the number of sheep he had. Samwell was also meticulous in storing bedding and feed inside his barn. "Sheep don't get very cold, Ryle," he confided in me. "They are warm animals." I nodded. "Food for sheep has to be dry, Ryle." I nodded again. Truthfully, I did not know these things and was happy Samwell was learning a trade of sorts. "Sheep need room to move, Ryle. In the barn and outside." "You know a lot about sheep, Samwell." He grinned broadly, all teeth showing. Then he proudly went on to tell me that his sheep had to be careful. "Foxes kill lambs, Ryle." "Foxes?" "Yes, Ryle, red foxes. And," he added suddenly remembering, “badgers too, Ryle. They hunt lambs too." "You do know a lot about sheep, Samwell," I repeated, clapping him on the back, "and they are so happy, I think, to have you to look after them." "Mother likes wool, Ryle. When sheep stay outside, they have clean wool." "Will your sheep stay on this piece of land, Samwell? Won't they wander off?" "No, Ryle. I fixed fence with Father. See, I will show you." He did show me, and the stone wall that enclosed the section of land Sam Sparrow had given his son was in good shape, measuring some three feet high. "That's a sturdy wall, Samwell." "Father fixed most of it," he modestly replied, but then grinned, adding, "but I carried stones too." I believed it for Samwell's hands, though short, were strong. "Where do your sheep drink, Samwell?" "Trough in the barn, Ryle. I change water every day." "Samwell, I think you will become a teacher in sheep-raising and you can give lessons to all the children in Harston." Samwell chortled so hard that he almost fell over. ***** Father and Mother and I had a long talk about whether or not I was ready to leave Harston and go to Cambridge. "I waited for you so long," Mother complained, without looking at Father, "and now before you are sixteen you plan to leave us." "The boy will be home for holidays," Father interspaced, as Mother was gearing up to say a lot more. "Well, it wouldn't hurt him to study with you for another year, or at least a half a year," she pleaded. "He will probably learn much more from you than he would from all those strangers who don't really know him." "Maudie," Father tried again, "the boy needs to leave sooner or later. And the sooner he leaves, the sooner he'll be home again." "That's not true," she countered, adding with a sober face, "Sometimes I wish that Ryle was like Samwell. Then he'd stay home." Father and I looked at one another in astonishment. "Maudie," Father whispered, "you don't really mean that. God has given each boy talents – Samwell as well as Ryle – and each must use his natural ability as best he can." And in my mind, I could see Samwell standing by the sheep pen, hugging the lambs and leading the animals to a salt lick. And I could hear him speak with his hands, with his five fingers. Often his sentences had just five words. "My name is Samwell Sparrow" and "He said: 'Feed my lambs’" and, most telling of all, "Bring good news of happiness." They all fit on his fingers, those words. "What good news of happiness, Samwell?" I asked. "Jesus, Ryle. Don't you know? The good news of Jesus." He raised the fingers of his right hand as he repeated the last five words. And then he smiled. ***** The upshot of the matter was that I did stay home for another six months. It was a compromise of sorts between Father and Mother. Father did continue to teach me half-days with a strong emphasis on the French I had fallen short in. I was, truth be told, happy as a lark to put off leaving. Change was not my venue. I was not adventurous and often I spent part of these my reprieve-from-Cambridge-days roaming the woodlands with Samwell. He was a good walker and we saw bitterns, red kites, kingfishers, foxes, and hedgehogs. Samwell loved animals. One such day in the late fall, he stopped. " I show you something, Ryle?" We were walking down a path and had just stopped to eat a sandwich. "Sure, Samwell." Samwell held up his left hand and counted the fingers with his right. "The Lord is my Shepherd." Again, the words numbered five and fit on his hands like a glove. "That's good, Samwell," I praised. "Did your mother show you that?" He shook his head. "No, Ryle. I showed myself." "Well, that's very clever and true." "Can you do it too, Ryle?" "Yes, I suppose I can." I lifted my left hand and counted fingers with my right saying as I did so, "The Lord is my Shepherd." "Good, Ryle," Samwell approved. Then, aping my Father's often used words for himself, he added, "You are a good student." ***** A few weeks later we were out again. It was a day with a steady drizzle, every now and then upgrading into a firm rain. Walking proved mucky and difficult on the country paths. Stone walls guarding the side of the lanes were wet and shiny. Following along in ruts made by wagon tracks, Samwell stomped through puddles and cheerfully sang songs. He loved mizzling weather and, as he was frequently subject to colds, Sarah always made sure he wore a thick coat when he went out. Around one particularly steep bend, we suddenly stopped. Among the small copse of apple trees we were just skirting, there was a pitiful, bleating sound. Distressful and whiny, it crept past the Kirton Pippins with their yellowish-green skins and dull red flush, slid over the wagon ruts and halted by our boots. Samwell immediately began scouting the sides of the road. "That is a lamb, Ryle," he told me, and I nodded. We found the creature fairly quickly. Almost in the ditch, it was lying in a clump of wet grass. The apples suspended above the pathetic, whining sound, looked ready to be picked. Perhaps some farmer driving a flock to market and hungry for the sweet bite these apples offered, had stopped for a snack and perhaps because he was inattentive at this point, one of the lambs of his herd had been able to wander away from his protective custody. But I was wrong in my conjecture, for it was the very smallest of lambs which Samwell scooped up in his arms, a lamb still covered in wet amniotic fluid, a lamb that had its umbilical cord still attached. "Oh, Ryle," he called out, even as his round face coughed into the dankness of the place, "Oh, Ryle, this is a newborn baby. But no mother!" Samwell was almost weeping with concern. Unbuttoning his great coat, he cradled the lamb within its folds and informed me that this pretty, little ball of fleece ought not to get cold, because then it would die. ***** We set off at breakneck pace back towards Harston with Samwell breathing noisily and having a difficult time catching his breath. As we half-walked, half-ran, taking this path and that as we headed home, the thin shower of rain became almost negligible. A blue sky and a bright sun materialized. The lamb had stopped its mournful cries and appeared to be dozing peacefully against Samwell's chest. "We have to find mother, Ryle," Samwell kept repeating as he wheezed. "We have to find her." Fifteen minutes into our rush back, we had wandered onto the deer park adjacent to Bitter Hall, the home of Ryker and Alice Bitter. When Samwell turned towards it, I was a little hesitant and, voicing my objections, told him of my hesitancy about walking onto their property. Samwell, still sheltering the lamb, paid no heed. We were on the Servant's Trail, the trail used by those employed on the estate, those who helped keep the place running. Although a section of the trail was a short-cut back to Harston, Samwell seemed intent on heading towards the estate itself. "Ryker Bitter has ewes, Ryle. Ryker Bitter will have mother. Mother will have milk," he panted as we headed towards the large, thatched manor house. "But Samwell," I pleaded with him, "Ryker Bitter may not let you into his barn. He might not like it that you are here on his property." We could now see the stone and timber barn that belonged to the Bitter estate and that is exactly the place towards which Samwell's feet moved. "I've visited with Father. This way, Ryle!" he called out over his shoulder. "This way!" It was at this point that we met Jacob Crew and Daniel Shutter, two of my Father's old pupils, and big fellows they were. Both were efficient gardeners and thatchers. Indeed, there were many in Harston who hired the pair to repair their roofs. "Hey, there, Samwell and Ryle," they called out in a jovial manner, carrying shovels and rakes and pushing barrows, "what brings you down here?" Samwell stopped, coughed, smiled for a brief moment, and I explained to Jacob and Daniel what his mission was. Jacob was a little dubious and eyed the lamb reclining beneath Samwell's coat with a certain amount of disbelief. Daniel just shook his head. "I don't know," Jacob slowly worded, rubbing his chin, "I can take you into the barn and I'm quite sure there are a number of ewes who have recently lambed. Perhaps ...." He left off speaking, waved his hand, turned around and guided us towards the barn. "Ryker's not the easiest fellow for whom to work," Daniel confided as he too turned and walked along with us, "but I don't see why you can't check the ewes. Where's the harm in that? Nowhere, to be sure." With its thatched, hip roof and its white-washed stone walls, the barn was rather massive and overwhelming. As soon as we walked in through the large, double doors, a strong, musky odor hit our nostrils. Several casement windows let in a little light – only a little though, because they were dirty. Jacob maneuvered us through an initial half-dark section towards one of the wooden barricaded areas and peered over the edge. "Well, here we are then," Daniel said, following close at his heels and scrutinizing the pen as well, "and look at all the lambs." At this point Samwell breathed a huge sigh. It touched the wainscoting and landed on all the bewildered sheep huddled together in a corner. "They are a silly-looking bunch," Jacob commented, "and which do you suppose might suckle your little ewe lamb?" "Not silly, Jacob," Samwell countered. "Bright eyes and white wool. Beautiful." We were now, all four of us, standing next to one of the several sheep folds. It was dull in the large shed. Hay lay strewn about and we could hear pigeons cooing somewhere in the distance. At this juncture one of the mother ewes stood up and curiously approached us. "Maybe that's the mother," Samwell whispered. "Maybe she's ...." The barn door opened and shut behind us with a bang, all within the space of a second. Samwell's murmur dropped into the straw. Even as he stopped talking, two rough hands gripped his shoulders, turning him one hundred and eighty degrees. "And what would you be doing in my barn, young scallywag!" It was not so much a question as it was an accusation. Remembering this, I am still amazed that the enmity of the tone had not phased Samwell's resolve to help the little being snuggling within his coat. "I ask for help, Ryker." The words fell thick and Samwell's tongue threatened to leave the confines of his mouth. It appeared that Ryker was somewhat taken aback by this reply, for he did not immediately strike the boy as I had thought he was about to do. But then, both Jacob and Daniel were imposingly present and both, I am proud and relieved to say, stayed by the boy's side. "I ask for help, Ryker," Samwell repeated, rather louder this time, his arms caressing the lamb. " I have a new lamb. It needs milk. You have ...." "I have nothing which you can have, Boy," Ryker retorted. Then he suddenly reached down into Samwell's coat. Drawing out the small, white body hidden within that coat, he cruelly mounted it hard on the wooden gate post. The diminutive, woolly bit of lamb blatted softly. Then it piteously gasped, expiring before our eyes. Samwell fell down to his knees. "God loves all His lambs," he said, holding up his right hand. Fixing his gaze on the crucified lamb, he wept. He cried as the lamb had cried, and his round head lolled on his chest. Jacob touched my shoulder and indicated that we should leave. "The lamb's dead anyhow," he whispered, "and you can't do any good here any longer. Take the lad and go." I bent over and took Samwell by his right upheld hand. He gazed up at me, but did not see me as his eyes were filled with tears. "Come on, Samwell," I urged, "let's go home." And so we did. We trudged through the now foggy early evening and made for the Sparrow farm, Samwell coughing wretchedly all the way. CHAPTER 6 – The richest man in Harston After I had entrusted Samwell to the care of Sarah, who was quite anxious as to his shortness of breath, I set out for my own home hoping that Cora would have some hot soup and fresh bread ready, for I was cold and hungry. About an hour had transpired since Samwell's encounter with Ryker Bitter. As I neared Hillbrook Street, a man passed me riding a horse at breakneck speed, galloping past as if his life depended on it. I was home shortly thereafter, and had my mind fixed to speak to my mother and father about what had happened. However, I found Mr. Solls, our pastor, in the living room and did not think it proper to relate the incident in front of him. My mother served me bread and soup in front of the warmth of the hearth and I half-listened to Father and Mr. Solls discuss doctrine. I confess I almost fell asleep after I ate, so pleasantly warm was I and so worn out with the afternoon were it not for a sudden loud knocking at the door. "Open up. I must speak with Mr. Solls." We could all hear the voice, an insistent voice, abrasive and intruding. Cora answered the door. Not easily put out, she nevertheless looked out of sorts and rather shaken when she announced that Ryker Bitter was insistent upon seeing Mr. Solls. "Well, let the man in," Father said, "for Mr. Solls is here and our guest." Cora did not have to walk back into the hallway to issue the invitation, for Ryker Bitter had pushed his way through the study doorway and was standing larger than life in front of all four of us - Father, Mother, myself and Mr. Solls. "I need to ...." he began, stuttering and stammering, while wobbling on his feet, black riding boots encrusted with mud. "What need you to do?" Father mildly remarked, ignoring Ryker's obvious confusion and agitation. "I need to speak with Mr. Solls, but," Ryker jabbered, "I can speak freely in front of you all, I think. Yes, I think that I can." "Well, Man," Father said, "out with it. What is it that has you so riled up?" "I will die tonight," Ryker babbled, drooling somewhat out of the corners of his mouth, and I wondered that the man was presently so obviously inattentive to his person, as he had so often made fun of Samwell's outward appearance. "Die?" Mr. Solls and Mother spoke simultaneously. "Yes, I will die." "How do you know that?" This time it was Father who questioned. "I heard God speak. Indeed, He spoke directly to me saying that I would die. And I must prepare." "Ryker," this time Father spoke a little more gently, "sit down, Man! Sit down. I think you have had a dream or perhaps you've been drinking?" He got up and guided Ryker towards one of the cushioned armchairs, pushing him down forcibly. Appearing distracted, looking at us but not really seeing us, Ryker sat down shakily. His leather riding boots left soiled imprints on Mother's carpet. She did not appear to notice but was staring at Ryker with great eyes. "There was a voice," Ryker rasped out, "and it came to me from the roof of the barn. It was a great voice, a hollow voice, and it said, 'Ryker, tonight the richest person in Harston will die.'" "What ...?" Mother began, only to stop for she did not know what to say. Indeed, I wouldn’t have known how to reply to such a statement either. "I must know," Ryker's hoarse voice went on, "I must know how to die. You see, I don't know how to do that." Mr. Solls eyed Father who raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly. "Mr. Bitter," Mr. Solls began, "it's a strange tale you tell, and I must confess I rather doubt ...." "Doubt!" Ryker wailed, and surely wailing was the correct description of the eerie sound he brought forth, "I heard the voice, Man, I heard it. It surely was meant for me." There was quiet for a moment, aside from the fact that Ryker was breathing hard and was hitting the knuckles of his hands on the supporting wooden sides of the chair in which he was sitting. "Well," Mother said purposefully, standing up suddenly, "I think I will go and get you a hot toddy, Ryker. It will relax you some." She was out of the room in an eyeblink. Ryker made no comment. Father coughed and Mr. Solls seemed rather uncomfortable. This seemed rather strange to me as Mr. Solls, being the pastor of our church, of all people should be comfortable with talking about God and about death. As I was thinking this, he got up, walked over to Ryker's chair and knelt down on the carpet by his feet. "Ryker," he began, leaving off the Mister he had used previously, and repeating, "Ryker, you must tell us a little more. We'd like to help you but perhaps it would be beneficial if you told us exactly what happened." Mr. Solls was in possession of a liquid voice, a fluid voice as it were, and it was soothing. Ryker sighed deeply. "Very well," he conceded, "I will tell you. I was in the barn, you see. That young scallywag, Samwell, he'd been by together with ... well, together with your son, Mr. Harrison ...." I exhaled rather noisily at this point although I hadn't notice that I had been holding my breath. Ryker looked over. "Yes, I see you Ryle, and you were there." I nodded, not knowing what to say. The fact is that I dearly wanted to alert Father to the truth, to the fact that Ryker had been cruel to Samwell and had killed a little lamb. But I could not formulate the words. "Well, the young boy irritated me. Always pushy that one, with his big smiles and ...." "I don't think I want to hear any sort of blather about Samwell," Father interrupted. "He is as dear to me as my own son." Ryker went on, almost as if he had not heard Father. "Well, after Samwell and young Harrison here left, I checked around the barn. Wanted to make sure that there was nothing missing, nothing broken and that everything was in place.... Well, it was then that I heard a breathing, a loud sort of breathing. It seemed to be coming from the center of the barn roof ¬– thereabouts anyway. I looked up to see if there were pigeons flying about or if there was a thatching problem, but there's dim lighting in the place and it's been a dull day, you understand, and I could see nothing amiss. And then," and here Ryker's voice changed, "then a voice began. 'Ryker' it said, and very loudly too, 'Ryker, tonight the richest person in Harston will die.'" Mr. Solls, who was still kneeling by the armchair, took Ryker's right hand between his own hands. "Suppose it were true, Ryker," he posed, "suppose that you were to die tonight. What then would happen to your soul? It's not a bad thing for you, and for all of us, to think on. That is the truth." He got no further. Ryker pulled his hand away and held it up in the air even as Samwell had held his hand up. I reflected on how strange that was. Two hands and two thoughts. For even as Ryker's eyes bulged with fear and panic, he also blurted out five words. "And what is truth exactly?" His words hung in the air even as the lamb had hung on the wooden gate post. "Well," Mr. Solls responded, not exactly answering Ryker's question directly, but raising a good point nevertheless, "to think on death is healthy because it reminds us that sooner or later we shall all meet our Maker, Ryker." Ryker's hand fell down and he slumped over. "There is no cure for it. I am undoubtedly the richest person in town. So I shall die. I know it." Mother slipped into the room again. She carried a cup which, as she told us later, contained a sleeping draught. She passed it to Mr. Solls, who gently, with the assistance of Father, helped Ryker sit up. He drank the liquid almost greedily and then leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Within minutes he was asleep. ***** It was only an hour or so later that the doorbell rang again. Ryker was still sleeping. The lamp lights had been turned off around him and there was darkness where his chair stood. This time Cora let Sam Sparrow into the room – Sam, the father of Samwell and husband of Sarah. "I came to tell you," he grieved, and his voice fell onto the soiled imprints that Ryker's boots had left on the carpet, "that our Samwell's years have come to an end like a sigh. The favor of the Lord rested upon him. His wheel has broken at the cistern and his spirit has returned to God Who gave it." All three pictures are by Havilah Farenhorst, a granddaughter of the author. ...

Red heart icon with + sign.
Media bias

Dear Mainstream Media: 4 strikes and you’re out!

Like many of you, I grew up with the mainstream media being a part of our household. We got the Globe and Mail delivered daily; when they displayed too obvious a bias in favor of same-sex “marriage,” my dad switched to the National Post. We got TIME magazine weekly. When I moved out on my own for the first time – from Chilliwack to Calgary, Alberta – the first thing I did was get a subscription to a newspaper. But as the years went on, my “take it with a grain of salt” attitude to the mainstream media evolved into overt distrust. The feeble attempts at fairness largely disappeared, and brazen cheerleading for the movements destroying our society took its place. Strike 1: Hating babies One of the first breakdowns of trust between Christians and the press came with the issue of abortion. Christians view abortion for precisely what it is: an act of violence that ends the life of a developing human being. With only a few notable exceptions, the mainstream media in North America backed the abortion rights movement and opposed the pro-life movement. Dehumanizing language was deliberately used when referring to pre-born children. The issue, in most cases, was presented as a political struggle between the “pro-choice” movement and the pro-life movement, with the main characters – the pre-born babies at the center of the struggle – left entirely out. This bias has only grown exponentially, especially in the wake of Roe v. Wade’s overturn. The media deliberately misrepresents pro-lifers; it seeks to portray the movement in as negative a light as possible, and it actively ignores malfeasance on the pro-abortion side. I have read stories about people I know, in which I am quoted, that are obviously false. To read a story in the mainstream press about abortion is to see journalists assert, with complete confidence, that the baby in the womb is not, in fact, a baby. It is to read “fact-checkers” debunk objectively true claims on behalf of the abortion industry, and to see the pro-life movement portrayed as misogynists, religious fanatics, and, frequently, white supremacists. The mainstream media’s rule is “if it bleeds, it leads” – except when it comes to abortion. In fact, when David Daleiden and the Center for Medical Progress released bombshell videos in 2015, proving that the abortion industry was trafficking in baby body parts, the media promptly launched a massive investigation…into the Center for Medical Progress. The reality is that when you read a story about abortion in the media, it is almost certainly packed with disinformation and outright lies. Strike 2: Hyping hedonism It isn’t just abortion, of course. On virtually every issue, the mainstream press takes the side of the sexual revolutionaries – and when churches are covered by the media, it is almost always a story about a conflict between Christianity and the sexual revolution. It is not news that Christian institutions generally adhere to a Biblical view of sexuality, for example, but Canada’s state broadcaster and major newspapers treat us to an endless stream of breathless coverage reminding us of the fact. You have probably never heard about the community service work done by staff and students at Redeemer University. You probably have heard the stunning revelation that, as one CBC headline put it, this “private Christian university says no sex outside heterosexual marriage.” Progressive politicians and their media allies have put a lot of elbow grease into stereotyping conservative Christians, and it has been effective. While Christians are condemned for opposing an increasingly radical LGBT agenda, the press – especially Canada’s taxpayer-funded state broadcaster – has bent over backward to condemn parental rights, defend drag shows targeted at children, and justify a pornographic sex ed curriculum. Strike 3: Doubling down on death The same is true for the issue of euthanasia. With one exception – Andrew Coyne, who was then a columnist for the National Post and now writes for the Globe and Mail – the media was entirely in favor of legalization, and treated dissent as unworthy of coverage. I remember tuning into the CBC for a debate on euthanasia, only to discover that the debate was not between someone who opposed it and someone who supported it – it was between an advocate of the incoming law and a fellow who didn’t think it went far enough. In short order, the media wasn’t even calling it euthanasia or assisted suicide anymore – they’d switched the terminology to the sterile, soothing-sounding “medical aid in dying,” conveniently shortened to “MAID.” Only when the horror stories pro-lifers predicted began surfacing in rapid succession did some media outlets begin asking if we had perhaps “gone too far” – and none admitted that perhaps the pro-life advocates they’d ignored were correct. Strike 4: Celebrating castration But the nail in the coffin of the media’s credibility – not only amongst Christians, but in the broader public, as well – was their whole-hearted embrace of the transgender agenda. Prestigious media organizations with Pulitzer Prizes and foreign correspondents in a dozen countries began to publish articles with phrases such as “her penis” and “his breasts.” Scores of “human interest” stories about “pregnant men” – I’m not making that up – were (and are) published with full photo essays. The claims of the transgender movement on everything from suicidal ideation to the acceptability of subjecting gender dysphoric minors to double mastectomies and castration were accepted at face value, regardless of how ludicrous they were or how much contradictory evidence existed. Most damning were the countless stories about allegedly female criminals featuring photographs of ugly, snaggle-toothed men guilty of often horrifying violence against real women. Nearly all of them went viral, and the universality of the mockery was devastating for the media’s credibility. Trust in the press can survive mistakes – even catastrophic ones. But it is a different scenario entirely when the press consistently challenges its viewers and readers with obvious lies and asks them: “Who are you going to believe, us or your lying eyes?” I’ve even seen mainstream journalists such as Jonathan Kay (of Quillette and the National Post) make the observation on Twitter – the reason transgenderism is so toxic, he noted, is that “ isn’t just destroying trust in the educational/political elites when it comes to gender. It’s destroying trust, full stop. If elites…think waving a fairy wand turns boys into girls, what other crap do they believe?” Precisely. Over the past several decades, the mainstream press has revealed that it serves as the propaganda arm of the Sexual Revolution – and in the last ten years, it has abandoned reality entirely. You’re outta here This is undoubtedly a serious issue, because in the vacuum left behind, many people merely hunt for sources that back their preferred narrative on a given issue and independent platforms deliberately cater to this. I agree with the mainstream journalists who worry that the collapse of trust in the Fifth Estate is a huge problem. It just happens to be a problem of their own making. Jonathon Van Maren has written for the National Post, National Review, First Things, LifeSiteNews, and many other publications. He blogs at TheBridgehead.ca....

Red heart icon with + sign.
News

Saturday Selections – Oct. 28, 2023

Should Christian participate in Halloween? (2 min) A very short take, offered for your consideration... Economics for beginners: 5 articles to get you started Economics is the science of human action, and if you want to get a good introduction to it, the Institute for Faith, Works & Economics has 5 articles to suggest. Why I no longer use Transgender pronouns... and why you shouldn't either Former lesbian (and English professor) Rosaria Butterfield weighs in... More studies show the harm of recreational marijuana use Marijuana use comes with high costs, whether it's emergency room visits for pregnant mothers, children born prematurely, or mental health issues among young men. Comets show how secular science is assumptions built on assumptions Comets melt each time they pass by our Sun. So if they were to do so for millions of years, then they'd all be gone by now, right? And yet Halley's Comet is still scheduled for a 2061 return, and others keep flying by as well. So what's up? Might comets still being around be evidence of a universe that is very young rather than millions of years old? No, say secular scientists, certainly not! They instead see comets as evidence of a cloud of icy objects – the Oort Cloud – far beyond the outskirts of the solar system that hasn't actually been observed, but must be there, because, well, we need something to explain why we still get comets. The idea is that every now and again the icy chunks way out there bump into each other and send a new comet flying inward toward the sun. But not only is the Oort Cloud theoretical, so too is the way the ice chunks form. Two snowballs thrown at each other don't generally cohere into one – as this article explores, what we see is disintegration, not formation. Which leaves us wondering once again, how do we still have comets? Building an alternative economy Don't share your pronouns? Won't apologize for your privilege? Aren't putting a pride flag on your desk for the month of June? Can't work on Sunday? Then maybe you aren't welcome at this company anymore! As mainstream businesses bow to the idol of wokeness, some Christians are trying to create an alternative economy where Christians can buy from, or work at, companies that aren't spending their Monday morning team meetings trying to figure out how best to shake their fist at God throughout the upcoming week. The commercial below is brilliant and funny and tears down the idols of woke culture, but it's worth asking, what do we replace it all with? At just a minute long, it doesn't have time for anything more than idol toppling, so we can be thankful for what the folks at Red Balloon accomplish here, even as we recognize the need to pick up the baton and carry it forward. More does need to be done – the Church needs to present the alternative to the false gods: our Lord, and His Truth, proudly proclaimed as such. Christians have gotten really good at blowing up the other side's hypocrisy, and we've gotten a lot of help even from non-Christians like Ben Shapiro and Jordan Peterson, and sometimes from the most unlikely of allies like J.K. Rowling and atheist Richard Dawkins, who've both taken on transgenderism. However, there is a problem with just dismantling the other side's arguments and leaving it at that. If we're not proposing Christianity as the solution, we are acting – whether we mean to or not – as if there is some other choice that could be made. We've become very good at exposing the idiot ideas of the Left for the unworkable nonsense that they are. But by not proudly and loudly sharing God's better way, we are actually acting as if it must be unworkable too... or why else wouldn't we share it? In our reluctance, in our silence, in our embarrassment, we are implicitly arguing for some middle ground, some neutral place, that is neither crazy nor Christian. But the choice has always been between Christ and chaos (Matt. 12:30, James 4:4). Isn't that plain enough to us by now? As the great Will Rogers once said, "You can't beat something with nothing." Yet God's people seem to keep trying. It's time we shared the good news with the world that there really is an alternative to the craziness. They need Jesus. And they need to hear about Him from us (Romans 10:14-15). ...

Red heart icon with + sign.
News, Pro-life - Abortion

Pro-life flag proposal gets town talking about worldviews

A proposal by the Smithers Pro-Life Society for their community to fly a pro-life flag was unanimously rejected by their town council, but not without exposing their worldviews and getting the entire community talking about life and freedom and what to do when worldviews conflict.  An unlikely catalyst Along with many other communities located towards BC’s west coast, the town of Smithers has embraced a very secular ideology, which it understands to be “progressive.” As a part of its recent “Pride” celebrations, the town welcomed a drag queen story reading for children at the public library. Not impressed, over 800 members of the community signed a petition to express their concerns. Jessica Vandergaag, a board member of Smithers Pro-Life, was in attendance when the town council responded to this petition. “The councillors reiterated over and over how inclusive and diverse our community is and that the public square was for ‘everyone.’ Their words rang through my head all evening.  A thought came to mind – why not ask for the pro-life flag now when we can hold them to their words of inclusion and diversity? While they still remember the words they said!” Since the town flies rainbow flags on its main street, Smithers Pro-Life was planning to request next year that a pro-life flag be hung as well. But with the town council’s declaration that the public square is for everyone, now seemed the time to act. In the same month Vandergaag, along with board member Betty Bandstra, stood before Smithers council, backed by a crowd of supporters in the gallery. They requested that the town hang the pro-life flag or paint it on a crosswalk in the same intersection as the rainbow crosswalk. Vandergaag proceeded to give an impassioned speech to Council, explaining that “the pre-born remain the group that is most ignored, even though it has the highest death rate, 100,000 killed per year in Canada.” After quoting the mayor’s and councillors recent comments about welcoming different perspectives and worldviews, Vandergaag had the pro-life flag held up, and she made the case that the most vulnerable deserve public recognition “because it is through the awareness of human rights abuses that empathy is developed and public opinion is changed.” A confused response What was the town council going to do? How could they turn down a request for a symbol that shows inclusiveness for vulnerable citizens, with so many in the community demonstrating their support? The local newspaper gave the story its front page, providing coverage that was surprisingly fair to Smithers Pro-Life. Council put the request on their next meeting agenda, and the pro-life community showed up once again, filling the gallery to show their support for the initiative. Each council member spoke, and their words exposed the impact this proposal had on their hearts and souls. They were emotional and passionate… and also confused. One council member, Genevieve Patterson, who identified herself as both pro-choice and Christian, was in tears as she shared her story of multiple miscarriages. She explained how she had three pregnancies where the baby had died after the first trimester, requiring her to have a D&C procedure, to remove the baby. She went on to call the D&C her “abortion” and said that “I am grateful for my right to choose. It saved my life.” She added “As a Christian woman, and a leader in my community, I will never use my relationship with God to rationalize my political beliefs, as I believe my relationship with God is just that – my own.” Although everyone should sympathize with her experience, it is a fallacy to compare what she went through with abortion, as an abortion involves purposeful action to end the life of a preborn child. The pro-life perspective would adamantly support her in her D&C. And although she professes to keep her faith separate from her political beliefs, her pro-choice stance made it very clear that her beliefs dictated her political beliefs. The one member of Council who is known as a Christian and a member of a local Reformed church also voted against the flag. He explained that the feedback he read about the proposal included the concern that: “there will be women in our town, who might have had an abortion, not because they wanted to but because life circumstances forced them to such a decision. The presence of a pro-life flag or crosswalk could be very triggering.” He could understand why they would conclude that. His other comments made it evident that his main concern was about how people from both sides of these issues talked about the other side. Somewhat ironically, the only Council member who showed support for the proposal explained that he was an atheist, and had opposed the original rainbow crosswalk proposal on the grounds that it would raise one ideology or group over others. He sees this current proposal as proof that he was correct, and voted against it for the same reason as the rainbow crosswalk. He said he wanted to see a new proposal to not allow the town to make any more symbolic statements like the rainbow crosswalk, though he wouldn’t remove that crosswalk now because he isn’t in favour of removing symbols. Gladys Atrill, the town’s mayor, started her speech by reflecting that “residents of Smithers have challenged council in the past two weeks with big issues: issues about who we are, what we believe, our worldviews, what is OK in public, what symbols we should consider.” She proceeded to contrast the rainbow flag, and its alignment with the Canadian Human Rights Act, with the pro-life flag, which contradicts the reality that abortion is legal in Canada. “As such, I’m not in favor of placing symbols in public places that relate to health procedures since there are many that are viewed as controversial….. Miss Vandergaag linked her strong faith in God to her pro-life belief. Others hold different views, that abortion is a medically-necessary procedure and that women have the right to self-determination.” Mayor Atrill failed to recognize that the right to life is foundational to all other rights and is included in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which the town is bound to uphold. She also failed to recognize that many things were legal and even celebrated in the past which we are ashamed of today (including how women were not recognized as persons under the law). The fact that something is recognized by law doesn’t make it right. To add to this, the mayor had no issue imposing her worldview (the right to abortion), over Vandergaag’s and others who are pro-life, within the same minute that she claimed that “The debate over abortion belongs at other tables than this one.” From town hall to town square After the town’s unanimous decision against the pro-life flag, the local media covered the story again. And this sparked a conversation that has carried on in the following weeks. In July, a local radio station invited Vandergaag and Bandstra, along with the drag queen story hour host, to an hour-long discussion about the pro-life flag proposal. Although she was nervous about taking part, she reflected after that “the conversation went well and I really felt at the end that God gave me words and guided me through quite the monologue.” She added that the others who took part expressed thanks to her and Bandstra for the civil conversation and the councillor in particular seemed “quite moved” by it. “I really pray and believe that even if it is not aired, that God did some planting there between the six of us.” Reflecting on the whole ordeal, she commented “while the result was not as we hoped, we do believe it to be a positive experience in the grand scheme.” She proceeded to give one example. “I was contacted by a former co-worker, whom I had no idea was pro-life, wondering what the result from Town Council was. Her family was visiting from Ireland and it was a topic of their conversation. I shared that it had been voted down and she expressed her sadness. I was touched that she contacted me and that conversations about it were still happening over a month later!” Not only do these conversations bring attention to our preborn neighbours, they also break through the veneer of “inclusivity” and “equality” that our secular leaders often champion, without having to defend. It was rather obvious that the council members only welcomed some perspectives, and these were ones that aligned with their own worldviews. The antithesis is as real in 2023 as it was in the Garden of Eden. Vandergaag “absolutely recommends” others to do this in their communities, both because of the conversation it creates and as a voice for the preborn who are otherwise not heard. But she also advised that it be done as a “delegation request” rather than simply a letter request. This is a request to address town council in person about a matter that important to a citizen or group, before a decision is made. “Letters can get passed by but a delegation request gets you extra time to present your request and the town council has to act on it with a motion in the following meeting.”...

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25