ADVENT: HOPING IN THE "NOT-YET"

        The emaciated body of my friend was difficult to see.  He sat in a recliner but was not comfortable.  There were gaping holes in his hair as the chemotherapy was taking its toll.  The radiation had left burn marks on his skin.  He was a relatively young man with a family.  He was athletic, strong and active; always healthy—until this—until this cancer had ravaged his body and was hammering away against his soul. 

        “There is one thing I don’t understand, preacher,” he said with a pained and weary expression on his face.  I waited a moment.  He was in deep thought.  The silence was pregnant with the somber fact we both knew he was in his last days. 

        “I’m on prayer lists all over this country.  People I don’t even know are praying for me.  I’ve always tried to be a good Christian.  I have lived my life doing the right thing.  So many people are praying for me—and I’m not getting any better.  I just don’t understand.” 

        As an old preacher who has been around for a long time, I don’t understand it either.  A few weeks after my friend shared this with me, he was dead.  Some people would say he didn’t have enough faith.  (That’s baloney!)   Others might say that it wasn’t God’s will for him to live.  (Really!)  Some well meaning people even said God needed him more than we did.  (What kind of God would do this?)  But people of the deepest faith acknowledged that our finite understanding will not allow us to comprehend this great mystery.  We simply do not know why. 

        Many of you will listen to the words of the prophet Isaiah in the morning as you worship on the Second Sunday of Advent.  You will hear how animals who are natural enemies will lie down together and a small child will play with them.  Last Sunday we heard about the day when swords would be beaten into plowshares and nations would not lift up swords against other nations, neither would they learn war any more. 

        The season of Advent poses a big dilemma for us that in many ways relates to my friend’s situation.  During Advent we hear these Old Testament prophecies of the coming one who will defeat the powers of evil, reign triumphantly over his people and establish peace and harmony in our troubled world.  He will be the “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace.” 

        Well, he came.  Christ was born.  The Son of God came and lived and preached about the Kingdom of God.  But 2,000 years later we continue to be plagued by wars and the forces of evil.  There is much suffering and pain.  People continue to die of cancer even though they are on prayer lists all over the country.  How do we reconcile this dilemma?

        The coming of Christ was the beginning of hope.  His advent propelled us into a world of promise which is understood in terms of expectation.  Yes, our world is full of pain and suffering and death, but it is also full of hope and promise and life because of Christ.  As people of hope we are constantly drawn toward the future as we walk on that narrow ridge between the disappearing “now” and the ever newly appearing “not-yet.”  Paul wrote that if we hope for what we do “not-yet” have, we wait for it patiently. 

        Every Sunday of Advent we light a candle to signify the light that shines in our darkness.  No matter how desperate the situation, no matter how dark the night, there is always light, there is always hope.  We look to the “not-yet” of fulfillment, healing, love, and peace. 

        I didn’t have an answer for my friend that day.  All I could tell him was that even though I don’t understand, I do know that this is not the end.  There is more, there is always more.  Cancer, sickness, suffering and death are never the final answers.  There is more that we will experience one day, but “not-yet.”  Simply knowing this makes life better.  Our hope of the ‘not-yet’ in the future transforms life today and gives us reason to keep on believing.  No, I didn’t have an answer for him that day—but he has the answer now!

 

                                               

       

November 22, 1963

   

          I can see the image in my mind as clearly as HD television.  Mr. Gilbert, our principal, standing at the door of Miss Price’s 4^th grade class with a somber look on his face.  We knew something was wrong. 

          “The president has been shot,” he told us.  That was it.  We didn’t know anything more.  I’m not sure what happened next, but it was only a short time before Mr. Gilbert was back with the stunning news, “The president is dead.”

          We were taken into the school auditorium where the school’s only television was showing images of Walter Cronkite reporting in his shirtsleeves.  School was soon dismissed, although I don’t remember an announcement.  I do remember walking home. 

          In my memory, which has been filtered by a half-century of age, a car stopped and the driver said something to me.  My mind has reconstructed the memory to a mysterious woman asking me if I knew about the president. 

Last weekend we made a visit to Alabama to visit my mother.  We celebrated her birthday on Saturday and it was good to be with her and see everyone in the family.  I took two of my children by the old school building that has since been converted into an Arts Center, and showed them where my 4^th grade class was located.  There were numerous specials on television about the Kennedy assassination.  We were talking about the assassination one night and I asked mother how she heard the news.

          “I heard the terrible news on television,” she said. “I needed to go to the store and knew that you children would be coming home soon, so I was driving to town when I saw you walking down the street.  I stopped and told you that I would be back home in a few minutes.”

          So that mysterious woman who had become a stranger in my mind was actually my mother!  Funny how the mind plays tricks on us.

          But in a way it was telling.  As a child, my mind was not preconditioned by political bias.  JFK was not very popular in Alabama, primarily because of his stand on Civil Rights.  But I wasn’t old enough to be political and my parents didn’t discuss politics with us.  I was inspired by Kennedy.  We tried to imitate his Boston accent.  (Alabama boys speaking with a Boston accent!)

          His words, “Ask not what your country can do for you, . . .” resonated with me and stirred me as did Martin Luther King’s lofty rhetoric.  My world was shattered on November 22, 1963.  All the adults had their own political bias, as I do now, but 50 years ago I was innocent—until that fateful day.

          The next summer my grandmother took me to Washington, DC.  We rode the train, visited the monuments and memorials, saw the Declaration of Independence and spent hours in the Smithsonian.  We went to see John Sparkman, the Alabama Senator from our hometown.  We toured the White House. 

          My grandmother told me she would buy me a souvenir.  I looked and looked but finally settled on a small bust of JFK.  I know it must have cost more that my grandmother had planned to spend.  And I still remember the shop owner giving me a lecture on the fact that “this is not a toy.  You don’t play with it.  If you drop it, it will break.”

          He probably didn’t think I would get home with it.  Maybe my grandmother didn’t either, but I did.  In fact, it’s in my office today.  And when I look at it, I remember November 22, 1963.  That was the day my world changed, and our nation has never been the same.

A First Class Veteran In Pain

He sits in a wheelchair at Lexington Health Care due to both legs being amputated. "Are you in pain?" I ask. He nods his head yes.

Junior Anderson has known pain before. In 1944, near Naples, Italy, he was shot in the left leg while dragging a wounded soldier to safety. Risking his life for his fallen comrade and for the cause of freedom, he was rewarded with three bronze stars, a purple heart, the Victory Medal, Good Conduct Medal and several campaign medals. Then he came home.

The decorated war veteran who was wounded in action, who was willing to lay down his life for our freedom, came home as a second-class citizen. You see, Staff Sgt. Junior Anderson, who was a part of the 370th Infantry (Combat Team) of the U.S. Army during World War II, is a Buffalo Soldier. He is one of only two Buffalo Soldiers who survive in North Carolina. Buffalo Soldiers served our nation from 1866 to 1951. It was a name given to African-American cavalrymen by Native Americans.

Anderson came home to a society where black citizens were not treated as equals, regardless of their military service or sacrifice. It was the same society I grew up in where my friends Herman and James were not allowed to walk down Main Street simply because they were black. Even so, James went to Vietnam where he served his nation with valor and courage like Anderson. He was every bit a first-class soldier. I stayed home and went to college. James could not afford to go to college, so he went to Vietnam and was killed. His body came home where he was still a second-class citizen, even in death.

Anderson came home a wounded warrior. His fight, however, was far from over. He has been fighting another battle in recent years as he has suffered two strokes, survived colon cancer and endured three different amputations due to gangrene. His wife, Peggy, shared with me that the struggle is more than physical. She has encountered one obstacle after another as she tries to get him the treatment he needs through the VA Hospital. She dreams of bringing her husband home, but at this point their house cannot accommodate a wheelchair. That situation can be corrected.

The Banks Miller American Legion Post 255 recently honored Anderson. You may have seen the inspiring article in The Dispatch on Oct. 9. There are also some grateful citizens who are working with Lexington Housing CDC to make the necessary renovations to their house so he can return home. Please contact the agency if you would like to help a war hero come home.

Words are not adequate to express our gratitude to Anderson. Valiant in war, victimized at home, and now suffering from numerous illnesses, yes, he has known pain. On this recent Veterans Day weekend, we will try to say thank you. Thank you to Staff Sgt. Anderson; thank you to all the courageous men and women who served faithfully and risked their lives for freedom. And thank you to my friend, James, and all who never came home. "Greater love has no man than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13.

If ever there was a first-class citizen, it is Junior Anderson who sits in his wheelchair at Lexington Health Care. I shook his hand and said, "Thank you Mr. Anderson. Thank you for your service to our country. Thank you for all you have done to make me free." He meekly lowered his head and nodded it affirmatively. I saw the tears in his eyes. I'm not sure if he saw the tears in mine.

 

 

The Original Marion North Carolina

          Here’s a story I bet you didn’t know.  It has to do with Marion, North Carolina.  No, not that Marion.  I’m talking about the original Marion that almost became the County Seat of Davidson County. 

          On November 22, 1822, Joseph Spurgeon introduced a bill in the North Carolina Senate to divide Rowan County.  The official Act establishing a separate and distinct county by the name of Davidson was formally ratified by the General Assembly on December 9, 1822.

          The citizens of Lexington assumed that their town would be named the new County Seat.  Lexington was the oldest and only established town in the new county.  A provisional court was often held in Lexington and the townspeople were confident that only the formalities needed to be addressed before Lexington became Davidson County’s Seat of Government, but the good people of Lexington were about to be disappointed.

          The General Assembly wanted new County Seats to be located as near as possible to the geographic center of the county.  A survey was made and it was determined that the geographic center of Davidson County was located on the farm of Martin Owens, in present day Holly Grove.  On April 17, 1823, the county purchased 108 acres from Mr. Owens for the sum of $300.  The land was laid off in lots and an auction was held.  Many lots were sold in the new County Seat which had already been given a name.  Frances Marion was a Revolutionary War hero known as the “Swamp Fox.”  The new County Seat of Davidson County would be named Marion, North Carolina.

          The people of Lexington were not happy with this unexpected turn of events.  One of Lexington’s leading citizens, Dr. William R. Holt, decided to do something about it.  The town’s first physician, an 1817 University of North Carolina graduate, had moved to Lexington in 1920.  Dr. Holt, a close friend of John Motley Morehead, was an influential and persuasive man.  His beautiful 1834 Greek Revival home, “The Homestead,” remains an active and charming residence to this day.

 

He took the matter to court arguing that the results of the survey were in error.  On October 30, 1823, the Court of Pleas and Quarter Sessions ordered that the survey maps and papers be turned over to Dr. Holt “in order that he may have the center of Davidson County ascertained, certified and delivered” to the General Assembly by no less than, “The President of the University,” the Rev. Dr. Joseph Caldwell. 

A former professor of mathematics, Dr. Caldwell was President of the University of North Carolina from 1804 to 1833.  He was widely known in the Carolinas for his expertise as the “Astronomical Advisor” for the running of the boundary between North and South Carolina and Georgia in 1807.  An “Astronomical Advisor” was an expert in establishing boundaries. He was the most qualified man in the state to settle the Davidson County Seat controversy.

A former student of Dr. Caldwell, Dr. Holt persuaded him to disqualify the original survey.  We are not sure how Dr. Holt did it, but his friendship with his old professor certainly helped!   He could not, however, convince his aging old friend that Lexington was the geographic center of the new county, primarily because it was not.

          Dr. Caldwell was not unsympathetic to the needs of one of his former star pupils.  He stated that as long as the Courthouse was within five miles of the center of the county, there should be no problem.  He went on to argue that the County Seat should be placed in an established town so that the county folk upon visiting the town might return home “with improved feelings, minds enlarged, information increased, their various business in courts and stores finished to their minds, and their publick (sic) spirit, gratified and excited by the scene of general activity and prosperity.”

          Unfortunately for Lexington, the people who had purchased lots in the new town of Marion were not persuaded by the enlightened Chapel Hill rhetoric.  They demanded another survey which was done, but the results favored neither side.

It was finally decided that an election would determine the location of Davidson County’s Seat of Government.  Representatives from the new county needed to be elected for the State Legislature and the “hot button” issue quickly became the location of the County Seat.  A vote for Alexander Caldcleugh for State Senate would be a vote for Lexington.  A vote for I. Smith would be a vote for Marion.  In the State House, Jesse Hargrave of Lexington was running against William Bodenhamer who was an advocate for Marion.  Caldcleugh won his election by four votes (409 to 405) and Hargrave was victorious by two votes (649-647).    The men still faced a fight in Raleigh, but they were successful in establishing Lexington as the County Seat of Davidson County. 

The land that had been sold in Marion was purchased back by the county.  Davidson County later used the land that was once part of Martin Owens’ farm to build the County Home.  Today, the Davidson County Schools Administrative Offices are located on this property.  Close by you will find the only reminder of what almost became Marion, North Carolina, a street named Marion Drive.

When McDowell County in the western part of the state was formed in 1843, a similar controversy arose between those who wanted the new County Seat to be in the established town of Buck Creek and those who wanted to create a new town at the county’s geographic center.  In this case, a new town was created and on March 14, 1844, there was finally a County Seat named Marion.  It’s located in the geographic center of McDowell County.

But aren’t you glad Lexington became the County Seat of Davidson County.  After all, Marion just wouldn’t do. They didn’t know how to barbecue!

 

                  

DID I SAY THAT!

       I’m preaching a revival this week at Paul’s Chapel UCC Church.  The revival started Sunday night and will continue through Tuesday.  I’m doing the preaching and the church has invited a different gospel group each night to sing.  Last night a local gospel bluegrass group named “Second Chance” provided the music.  They were very good.  If you like bluegrass, you will love “Second Chance.”  After “Second Chance” finished their selections, a young lady sang a solo. 

       When it was time for me to preach I started by thanking the congregation for the opportunity to be with them, then I thanked the ones who provided special music.  I made a mental note of the young lady’s name before I stood up, but as I was starting to say something about the music I realized I had forgotten her name.  But at the last minute it came to me and I thanked her (calling her by the right name) for the wonderful solo.  At that point I also thanked the gospel group—or at least I thought I did.  Joyce told me after the service.  “Do you realize what you said?  You didn’t thank “Second Chance” but “Second Wind!” 

       Many of you know “Second Wind.”  Alan Williams and Mark Motlow are two of the band members.  But they were not playing at Paul’s Chapel on Sunday night—“Second Chance” was.  The visiting preacher, however, got up and talked about how wonderful “Second Wind” could play.

       Did I say that!    I guess I did.  I’m getting old you know—or at least that’s my excuse. 

       I’ve always had a fear of calling someone by the wrong name at a wedding or a funeral.  I’ve done hundreds of weddings and funerals through the years, but so far I’ve called people by the right name.  (As far as I know!) 

I did a wedding years ago for a fellow named Norton.   Only problem was Norton was not his real name.  His real name was Paul Lathan, but no one knew that—except his mother who insisted I call him by his given name.  So when the wedding started I announced that we were there to witness the wedding of Paul Lathan and his bride,  The congregation gasped.  They were sure I had called him by the wrong name.  Only his mother knew why Paul Lathan was getting married rather than Norton.

       So thank you “Second Chance” and thank you “Second Wind.”  You can call me Ray!

TCBBQ

 

            Have you seen the promotional brochures and the posters for the 30^th Annual Barbecue Festival?  Over the image of the old courthouse you will see a banner that reads:  TCBBQ—Takin’ Care of Barbecue.  I was intrigued by the new slogan so I contacted Stephanie Saintsing Naset, the festival’s executive director who told me that the clever acronym was created with Elvis Presley in mind as he had adopted “Takin’ Care of Business” (TCB) as his personal motto.  His band was named the TCB Band and he even had TCB painted on the tail of his private jet.  In Lexington we “TCB—BQ,” we take care of BBQ!

            Two weeks from today over 175,000 people will pack the streets of Lexington town to celebrate our signature product—pork barbecue.  (Of course its pork!  Is there any other?)  From the day old Simon Peter had his vision on the rooftop in Joppa and God announced: “Q is good for you!  Take and eat with a little red slaw.”  (Lexington Standard Version), to BBQ pioneers Jesse Swicegood and Sid Weaver, and to today’s plethora of Barbecue establishments in and around town, that simmering, delectable, slow cooked pork shoulder just gets better and better.  Thirty years ago Dispatch Publisher Joe Sink along with Kay Saintsing created the first Barbecue Festival.  From the very beginning the festival has been much more than our delicious barbecue; it has been a celebration of community, a venue to share talents and crafts, a showcase for entertainment, and an affirmation of what is right with our world. 

            Lexington barbecue developed out of a basic need.  As the county seat of Davidson County, people would flock to town on court days.  They came not just to seek justice, but to shop in the stores, obtain professional services, and enjoy the fellowship of friends and family.  There were not enough restaurants to accommodate the large crowds, so entrepreneuring individuals decided to provide temporary food services.  They would dig a pit in the ground where they would slow roast pork shoulders over hickory wood.  Lexington barbecue was born!  The first official “restaurant” opened in 1919 when Sid Weaver set up a tent in the center of town.  Jesse Swicegood soon followed, and today there are over twenty barbecue restaurants that TCBBQ!

            Last Sunday was World Communion Sunday and I couldn’t help but notice the connection with our upcoming BBQ Festival.  Both celebrations focus on a table that brings people together.  A big, big table---it takes a big table to serve BBQ for 175,000 and an even bigger table for all God’s children to gather as they receive the bread and wine.  Both tables address basic needs:  the need for nourishment for our physical bodies and the need for spiritual nourishment for our souls. Both tables invite the creation of community.

            The table of our Lord is a table of love, mercy, and grace.  We come to the Lord’s table out of great need.  We need the Lord.  We need his mercy and grace that we find at his table.  But there are so many more people who are not in our churches.  Many are suffering.  They have medical needs.  Children are hungry and there are those who need encouragement and a helping hand. As we shared the bread and wine this past Sunday, I challenged my congregation to take God’s mercy and grace out of the walls of the sanctuary to the community where people are in need. If they are not coming to the Lord’s table, we will take the table to them.

Two weeks from today it will be my great joy to “Bless the BBQ” as part of the Opening Ceremony.  What I’m really doing is simply expressing gratitude to God, because he has already blessed us with a loving and caring community that loves to throw a party.  We’ll be ready to welcome the tens of thousands of guests who come to the celebration.  Don’t worry, we know how to TCBBQ.  We also TCGPT.  We’ll take care of God’s people, too!   

 

Where Children May Safely Play

        Tucked away in the little Old Testament book of Zechariah is a beautiful image of old men and women walking around the city of Jerusalem with canes while children play in the streets with laughter and joy.  It is a prophecy of life the way it is supposed to be—life in the Kingdom of God.  Dr. Eugene Peterson  in his presentation of the Bible called “The Message” shares the verse this way:  Old men and old women will come back to Jerusalem, sit on benches on the streets and spin tales, move around safely with their canes—a good city to grow old in. And boys and girls will fill the public parks, laughing and playing—a good city to grow up in.

        This is our hope for this community and every community.  But sadly, in a world of great evil and many manifestations of darkness, it is not safe for children or adults to be in many streets for fear of gunfire, bombs, or even a chemical attack.  The heartbreaking images of the bodies of innocent children in Syria are impossible to erase from our minds.  We are devastated by such horrific events and we want to respond, to do something—but what?  I don’t know what the answer is, but I don’t believe it is found in missiles and airstrikes.  When will we learn that a violent response to violence only perpetuates more violence?  I want to “study war no more!”

But violence is not confined to the Middle East.  Gun violence in Chicago is an epidemic with over 500 homicides last year and already over 300 this year.  Over 30 percent of the victims are teenagers and children.  Where is the blame?  Gangs, drugs, poverty, inequality?   All of us?   What is the answer?

        As much as I would like to help the suffering in Syria, Chicago, and other faraway places, there is little I can do.  But I can do something about the suffering in Lexington and Davidson County.  Around 45 percent of the children in Lexington live in poverty.  A couple of years ago the Southern Education Foundation ranked the Lexington School District the 66^th worst in the south in extreme child poverty.  Twenty-one percent of its students were living below 50 percent of the federal poverty level.  Most of these children are not laughing and playing in the streets. Many go to bed hungry. 

        Where do I start?  I begin by making a difference in the life of one child.  There are a number of community agencies, programs, and initiatives through the school systems that give you an opportunity to help children in need.  Mentors, tutors, encouragers, leaders, and helpers are needed.  They need financial support and administrative skills. You can get involved directly or indirectly.  The Backpack Program, Communities in Schools, Smart Start, The Boys and Girls Club, Project Potential, the YMCA, Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, the 4-H Program, CHILL, Special Olympics, and a host of other programs make a qualitative difference in the lives of children.  Call your local school or an agency to see how you can help!

        You can even make a difference in the life of a Davidson County child by attending next week’s Davidson County Agricultural Fair.  Every summer around 180 deserving children are selected by the Department of Social Services to attend a week of summer camp where they can safely laugh and play.  Since 1946, the Lexington Kiwanis Club has operated the annual county fair to raise the revenue to operate Kamp Kiwanis.  Your $7.00 admission to the fair next week will help some child attend summer camp next year.  Have fun at the fair and help a child!  Now that’s a win-win!

        The needs of our world and even our own community are often overwhelming.  We cannot meet all of those needs, but we can meet some.  If everyone reading this column would do something---get involved in a program, make a financial contribution, volunteer your services—we can turn the lives of many children around and give them hope for the future!  And in the process we will be building the Kingdom of God, creating a community where children may safely play. 

                                                                       

 

FAITH/HEALTH AND THE KINGDOM OF GOD

        Most everyone in Lexington knows “Durango.”  I learned a few years ago that while everyone calls him “Durango” he prefers his given name, Kenneth.  Kenneth lives in Bob’s Board House on Main Street in downtown Lexington.  He is a fixture at American Legion Baseball games and the Davidson County Fair.  Years ago he rode a bicycle all over town and beyond.

        Jimmy Snyder has been a good and helpful friend to Kenneth for many years.  When I found out that Kenneth needed a medical procedure at Lexington Medical Center, I thought it might be a good “trial run” for FaithHealthNC. 

        The preparation for the procedure has recently changed and when Kenneth told me he wasn’t sure what to do, I looked at his instructions and it took me a while to figure it out.  This happens often with medicine.  Part of FaithHealth is helping people understand their medical orders. 

          Early Monday morning I picked Kenneth up from his apartment and took him to Lexington Medical Center.  Jim Tate, our FaithHealth Administrator had sent out an email last week explaining the need and had an immediate and positive response.  Gary Wikstrom had volunteered to pick Kenneth up after his procedure, so I had written down Gary’s phone numbers and also mine, but the nurse told me somebody had to be at the hospital during the actual procedure.  I told her that I would stay and then called Gary to let him know what was going on.  He came right on to the hospital.  We were both there when Kenneth came out of the procedure and we talked to the doctor.  

          Gary took over, taking Kenneth home and getting him settled.   Gary also provided a meal for Kenneth and later in the evening, Michelle and William Hopkins also brought him a meal.  They also called him and checked on him.

          Kenneth called me that night.  He was thrilled with all the attention he received and went into great detail telling me everything that was brought to him to eat.  He told me that would last him for several days.  Then he said, as only Kenneth can, “Thank you for all the nice things you did for me today.”  

          The greatest gift we gave to Kenneth was not transportation and food, although that was very important, but we surrounded him with love and support—and that meant more than any medicine or medical procedure. 

          Kenneth’s words:  “Thank you for all the nice things you did for me today” echo as a blessing and a challenge.   Isn’t this what Jesus had in mind when he talked about building the Kingdom of God?

 

A VOID, A GAP, NEVER TO BE FILLED

The tears streamed down, and I let them flow as freely as they would, making of them a pillow for my heart." — Augustine

It's been almost 35 years ago, but I will never forget that hot summer night when I heard some noise over at the church and went to investigate. It was late on a Friday night, and we were living in the parsonage next to the church.

I encountered a group of teenage boys who were riding around town on a dune-buggy, engaged in a water balloon battle with their friends. They had stopped by the church to replenish the water balloons with our outdoor faucets. I had a nice conversation with the boys and asked that they make sure the faucets were turned off when they finished. They wished me a good night, and I told them to be safe. Little did I know …

I was a volunteer emergency medical technician on the local rescue squad, and it was my night to be on call. Around midnight I was jolted out of my sleep by a loud alarm followed by an announcement that there had been a wreck with injuries on a dirt road out of town.

I met my partner, and we were quickly en route with lights and sirens blaring. As we pulled up to the accident I was shocked to see the same dune-buggy turned upside down in a ditch. Several bodies were scattered across the road — the boys I met at the church. We called for backup and quickly started to triage the injuries. Two or three of the boys were seriously hurt, but their injuries were not life threatening.

But then I saw that one of the boys was not moving. Rushing over to him I immediately recognized that there was nothing I could do. He had been thrown from the vehicle and was crushed as it rolled over him. We took a sheet and covered his body while we attended to the injured.

Other ambulances came and transported the victims to the hospital while I stayed behind with the state trooper. We thought that we should find out who the young man's minister was and ask him to go with us to notify his family. We found his driver's license and when I saw his name I realized that I was the minister! They were members of my church.

He was their only child. I will never forget the anguish, the panic, the shock and disbelief. The father insisted that we take him to the scene of the accident. Then we went with him to the hospital where he sobbed over his son's lifeless body. I was with the family most of the weekend. I preached the young man's funeral. It was one of the saddest things I have ever had to do.

I think of this young man from time to time, but especially when I hear of a tragic accident like the one our community experienced last month. I do not know the family who lost their precious little girl in the pool accident, but my heart immediately went out to them.

Nicholas Wolterstorff, a prolific Christian philosopher, shared the deep wounds of his heart after the tragic death of his son in a book titled "Lament for a Son." He talked about the great void that is left. "Never again will anyone inhabit the world the way he did. Questions I have can never now get answers. The world is emptier. My son is gone. Only a hole remains, a void, a gap, never to be filled."

Paula D'arcy, who lost a daughter in terrible car wreck, wrote of her anguish in a book, "Song for Sarah: A Mother's Journey Through Grief and Beyond." She made the statement: "God never guaranteed anything to be permanent except his love. I made all the other conclusions."

I have no answers to these tragic events. However, I must believe that God's love is all we have and all we need. God's heart is broken as heavily as the parents. And God understands.

Almost a year after the young man was killed, his father stopped by the parsonage with a gift. He made us a beautiful wooden bookcase. It was the work of a master craftsman. There were no nails. The wood was dovetailed together. I was deeply touched by his gift. He had spent hours and hours making it perfect. "When you look at it," he said, "think of my son."

I do, but I also think of the father for I realized that he was finally walking through the valley. There was life on the other side.

 

TIGER CRUISE

 

        The Navy says she is 90,000 tons of diplomacy.  The USS Dwight D. Eisenhower is one the greatest aircraft carriers (My son Knight corrected me—THE GREATEST aircraft carrier) in the world.  The “Mighty Ike” leads a Strike Group that covers 2.5 million square miles of water including the Arabian Gulf and Sea, Red Sea, Gulf of Oman and Gulf of Aden.  They just returned from their latest combat and security mission to a much deserved hero’s welcome in Norfolk on July 3.  As the colossal carrier finally docked at the Norfolk Naval Ship Yards in front of thousands of cheering family members after being at sea for 13 of the last 16 months, I was having the experience of a lifetime.  I wasn’t standing in the cheering crowd watching the ship come in—I was actually on board the ship with almost 5,000 anxious sailors who were all so thrilled to finally be home!  In fact, I had been on the Ike since Monday and had seen and experienced things that most civilians can never even imagine.

        Our son, Knight, serves as a Chief Petty Officer on the Eisenhower and told me a number of months ago that a “Tiger Cruise” might be a possibility at the end of their long deployment.  I can’t find anyone who knows where the “Tiger” terminology comes from, other than an arbitrary Naval designation for civilians who are invited to board a ship for a cruise.  A sailor can invite a family member other than a spouse.  Knight invited me and Ken Severt, his father-in-law, as well as his brother-in-law, Heath. We knew that sometime around the end of June or early July the Tiger Cruise would be an option, but did not know the exact dates until a couple of weeks ago for security reasons.  Even then the dates could not be communicated by phone or emails. 

        After church on June 30, Joyce and I drove to Raleigh-Durham airport.  Joyce went on to our daughter’s (Della) house in Wendell and they came to Norfolk to meet the ship on July 3.  I flew from RDU to Jacksonville (via Chicago?) and arrived at the airport around 11:30 Sunday night.  On Monday morning I met Ken and Heath and we boarded a charter bus from the airport to the Mayport Naval port. 

        We arrived at the dock around 10:30 in the morning and I was surprised that the Eisenhower was not there.  But you could see her way off in the distance and since it was low tide and she has a 45-foot draft, they were waiting for high tide to dock. 

        No one is more organized than our military and they made sure no one was bored or hungry.  Under a big tent they had sandwiches and drinks that everyone enjoyed while a Navy band entertained us with great patriotic music.  We could hear the excitement building as the “Mighty Ike” was spotted moving in our direction and as she drew closer and closer it was evident just how massive the ship really is.  Commissioned in 1977, she is a 5-star nuclear powered aircraft carrier with a flight deck that is almost 1,100 feet long and covers over 4.5 acres.  The ship and air crew total over 5,500.  She can sail at over 30 knots, even fully loaded. 

        I had seen the Ike come back from deployments in Norfolk, but this was the first time I had seen the carrier with its full complement of aircraft.  There are 85-90 birds, primarily F-18 fighter jets.  It was an impressive sight!

        A number of sailors had elected to disembark at Mayport and so we witnessed some happy and tearful homecomings.  We simply cannot imagine how difficult long deployments are on family members.  Fathers, who have had babies born while they were away, are always allowed to disembark first.  A few years ago I saw a Navy mother reunited with her little 3 year old daughter after a long deployment.  I get teary just thinking about it. 

        The plan was that after all the departing sailors were off the ship, the Tiger sponsors would come ashore to find their Tigers.  However, there was this deluge of rain that starting falling—and continued to fall---it was raining cats and dogs and tigers, too!

        My flight out of Raleigh was delayed due to heavy rain, but you don’t delay a 90,000 ton aircraft carrier.  Knight found us in the middle of the monsoon and we were literally soaked to the skin by the time we got on board.  Not to worry though---every problem has a solution in the Navy.  A kind sailor who works for Knight took our wet clothes and put them in a dryer and another sailor spent several hours drying our shoes. 

        Once we had on some dry clothes, Knight took us to our berths.  The Tiger Cruise is not to make you comfortable.  You sleep where the sailors sleep, eat the same food, follow the same schedules—in other words, we experience what they experience.  We were placed in coffin racks.  They were 3 deep on either size.  I had the middle rack.  The first night I wasn’t sure I could even squeeze in it, and once I did I quickly discovered why it is so named.  There were maybe five inches   from my nose to the top of the rack.  You really felt like you were in a coffin and turning over on your side was an adventure!  These sailors sleep in these racks every night (or during the day for those who work at night) of the deployment.  Going to the “Head” (the bathroom) was another adventure.  You had to open a watertight door from our berthing quarters that placed you in a small room with an open manhole.  If you slipped and fell down the manhole, it would not be good.  Plus you had to negotiate around the steel cover that took the rest of the floor space in the tiny cubicle.  From there you opened the door to the head, where you would find showers, sinks, and toilets. 

 

 

        A person who is not in physical shape could not survive a Tiger Cruise.  You do a lot of walking and climbing.  All of the “stairs” are essentially vertical ladders and going from the crew quarters to the upper levels of the tower can mean a 10 to 12 deck climb.  We used to wonder why our son Knight was so skinny, but after following him around for three days on the ship—I knew.  And I was so thankful that I work out at the YMCA.

        You eat in the same mess (dining) as your sailor and this was where we had it made because we got to eat in the CPO Mess.  The first night we had t-bone steaks and huge crab legs—not to mention chicken and all the fixings.  I assumed that this was served to everyone, but I quickly found out that was not the case.  There are around 250 CPOs on this ship of over 5,000.  They have their private dining area where they are waited on by an efficient staff.  In the mornings we had eggs cooked to order or omelets, bacon, sausage, biscuits, gravy—mercy me!  It was very good.  After that wonderful meal the first night they later had an ice cream social!

        One of the most amazing events of the cruise was the air power display.  We found a great vantage point up high on the tower next to the flight control center.  The F-18 don’t fly off the carrier, they are catapulted.  In a blink of an eye, they go from standing still to over 130 miles per hour and they are airborne with a might roar of their powerful jet engines.  The F-18s put on quite a show. We saw them fly loops, upside down, refuel in flight, and fly in formation.  Helicopters hovered around the ship and flares were launched in the water.  But the most incredible moment came when I caught something coming from the east in the corner of my eye.  I looked just in time to see an F-18 flying so fast there was no sound.  She zipped across the front of the ship with laser speed and then it happened—a sonic boom!   We were in awe and overwhelmed by it all.  Finally, as the choppers displayed big American Flags, the F-18s flew over in precise formation.

 

        Later that afternoon we had the same vantage point as the dozens of F-18s departed the ship for their home base at NAS Oceana.  For the entire deployment these brave pilots had been flying combat missions and we watched, felt the heat from the jet engines, smelled the jet fuel, and saw the genuine emotion of leaving the ground crew who had supported them throughout this mission, knowing that in a few hours they would be reunited with wives and children for the first time in months. 

        After another wonderful meal in the CPO Mess, we watched a few episodes of “Duck Dynasty” with Knight and shared some good laughs before going up on the now empty flight deck for an evening display of the ship’s weaponry.  While the ship is always accompanied by a fleet of battleships and strike force vessels, it has its own firepower that was demonstrated in an awesome display of military might.  The scenario was an unknown and unresponsive vessel that could be potentially hostile.  First flares are shot in the direction of the vessel.  Then a warning is announced.  If there is still no response, the Captain can elect to attack.  Chills were going up and down my spine as the Captain’s voice boomed over the speakers, “Open Fire!”  I didn’t need a July 4 firework display!  It was incredible to behold!  And woe to the enemy, whoever they may be, if they are in the line of fire!  Knight arranged for us to have one of the 50 caliber casings as a souvenir.  

        We had the opportunity to tour the ships Combat Command Center and also Flight Operations.  The technology was astonishing.  I don’t think NASA could beat the modern technology onboard these war vessels.  I’ve never seen so many computer screens, digital and video displays, and high-tech stuff in all my life.  They can actually direct an F-18 to a precise landing on the flight deck with a six-inch margin of error.  This is necessary since they need to hook the recovery cable, otherwise they cannot stop.  My head was spinning when we finally decided we needed some ice cream!

 

        The incredible aircraft carrier, the mind-boggling technology, the awesome airpower, the chilling gun power were all overwhelming.  But when I was asked to name the most impressive thing I experienced on the Ike, I responded without hesitation, “The crew.”   The brave men and women who serve on the USS Eisenhower are by far the most committed, impressive, and competent service men and women I have ever known.  Every single sailor, from the lowest ranking sailor to the Captain, whom we had a chance to meet, was kind, professional, helpful, and extremely proud to be on the “Greatest Aircraft Carrier” in the world!  They asked me how I was doing, was I enjoying the cruise, could they do anything to help me, did I sleep well, did I like the food, and on and on.  And yet, here were individuals who sacrifice much more than I.  They are separated from their families.  They don’t see their children grow up.  They miss the everyday blessings of life we take for granted.  And they wanted to know how I was doing! 

 

        It makes me proud to be an American, proud of our military, proud of the brave men and women who serve with dedication and courage and great sacrifice, and proud of my son who has excelled as a member of the United States Navy.  And, I am grateful and so very thankful for each of every member of our military who keep us safe and preserve the freedom so many thousands have died to secure. 

        I was impressed that every night at 9:55 the chaplain comes on the speaker and delivers a brief devotion and says a prayer.  The prayers I heard were thoughtful, meaningful, and most appropriate to the occasion.  I didn’t realize that every night each member of this huge and mighty military vessel will pause to pray and reflect.  I was deeply moved.

        On the final night, after we had witnessed the awesome display of military might and power through guns and aircraft, we spent some time on the flight deck.   Military ships are dark at night for obvious reasons.  We looked up into the sky and saw one of the most incredible displays of power that is so mighty it puts all the guns and missiles and planes and bombs to shame.  150 miles out in the Atlantic, away from all artificial light, I saw the heavens in all of their majesty and glory and I stood in awe of the greatest power.  And as I reflected, I heard the words: 

O Lord, our Lord,
How excellent is Your name in all the earth,
Who have set Your glory above the heavens!

² Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants
You have ordained strength,
Because of Your enemies,
That You may silence the enemy and the avenger.

³ When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
The moon and the stars, which You have ordained,
⁴ What is man that You are mindful of him,
And the son of man that You visit him?
⁵ For You have made him a little lower than the angels,
And You have crowned him with glory and honor.

⁶ You have made him to have dominion over the works of Your hands;
You have put all things under his feet,
⁷ All sheep and oxen—
Even the beasts of the field,
⁸ The birds of the air,
And the fish of the sea
That pass through the paths of the seas.

⁹ O Lord, our Lord,
How excellent is Your name in all the earth!