HYMN: Consumed by Flame, the Weary World

I don’t think it’s hyperbole to say that the events of the last few days have caused many to despair over the future of the United States of America. No matter where one lands on the political spectrum—as an independent voter, it’s hard for me to say where I land on it—it seems like there have been plentiful reasons to be concerned about the state of the nation and the doings of its officials. Christians are citizens of the Kingdom of God, and yet we are also called upon to participate in the doings of the world as citizens of the nations in which we live.

I’m wrestling with my place in this new world where fear, censorship, and mob rule are the norm. While my pastor heart stands guard over the sheep God has placed in my care as they face increasing enmity from the powers that be, even now I lay that concern at the feet of Jesus, knowing that all things are in His all-powerful hands, knowing that He will use all things for the good of His children.

That’s what this hymn text is intended to do: to lay my cares on Jesus, to place my trust in Him, so that I do not despair.

Feedback is love.

Consumed by Flame, the Weary World

1. Consumed by flame, the weary world

Awaits its true and only King. 

While tyrants rage with insults hurled,

God’s holy children pray and sing. 

2. We pray for peace. We surely know

The worldly give no lasting peace. 

The faithless offer endless woe

With malice surely to increase. 

3. And yet the faithful sing for joy.

Our legacy is peace in Christ:

A birthright death cannot destroy

From Jesus who was sacrificed. 

4. While nations fall and banners burn;

While kings their subjects’ trust betray,

The faithful pray for Christ’s return

Upon the Last and greatest Day. 

5. Until we see our King appear,

We trust no prince but Christ alone. 

And as the Day draws ever near,

We yearn to meet before His throne. 

6. Dear King of kings, oh, end the strife

And make our sad divisions cease. 

We beg you, Jesus, Lord of life,

To give us true and lasting peace.

 

(c) 2021 Alan Kornacki, Jr., b.1974

LM (88 88)

WINDHAM (LSB 429) or O HEILAND, REISS DIE HIMMEL AUF (LSB 355)

Occasion: The World, National Discord

Baseball Hall of Fame Voting: Idiocy Compounded

I've been a fan of the game of baseball all my life. One of my earliest memories is of Reggie Jackson  hitting three home runs on three pitches from three different Los Angeles Dodgers pitchers in the sixth game of the 1977 World Series. There are (rather embarrassing) pictures of me from before that time, wearing little more than a baseball glove and cap. I played baseball for ten years, and I lived for the days on the diamond, whether it was organized games, team practices, or just pick-up games with friends in the back yard. I've watched baseball with a near-religious fervor all my life. It should come as no surprise, then, that I would have and express an opinion about an aspect I hate of the sport I love.

I've watched the whole steroid issue play out in baseball with a certain amount of disgust. Most especially am I disgusted by those who use steroids to get ahead. I can understand the desire to succeed. I didn't have enough talent to play professionally at any level, and steroids wouldn't have changed that. And for those who do or did have enough talent, I can understand the desire to extend a career that allows one to play a game for a living. That does not excuse their actions, but it shows the human face of an issue that often sees the press demonize those who have fallen.

And the press should hold themselves accountable for their role in this scandal. For too long they ignored what was right before their eyes. Then, when they could ignore the issue no longer, they went on the offensive, blasting away at anyone whose name was even whispered to be connected with steroids. Evidence or no evidence, conviction or acquittal, anyone who was rumored to be connected with steroids was evil, and the press was ready with pitchforks and torches to do their due diligence to burn these hardened heretics who dared to violate the holy cathedrals of baseball. This is evident, not only in their regular work as sportswriters, but especially in the decisions made by those baseball sportswriters who have been given the privilege of voting on the ballot of players eligible for induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

The crux of the matter is the criteria upon which each candidate must be judged. Here is the relevant passage: "5. Voting: Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played." When it comes to the issues of integrity, sportsmanship, and character, many voting sportswriters consider anyone connected to steroids to be unworthy for consideration. One voter this year even stated that he wouldn’t vote for anyone who played during the “Steroid Era.”

Baseball is known as “America’s Pastime.” For those who star in our pastime to be held to the un-American standard of “guilty until proven innocent” is just ridiculous. It’s no better than Kenesaw Landis giving “Shoeless” Joe Jackson a lifetime ban for throwing the World Series—not based on evidence, but based on a confession coerced from an unlettered country boy who didn’t know he was being burned. Those who have been proved to be guilty of steroid use, along with those who have confessed to steroid use, might rightly be castigated for cheating. Still, when the writers allowed proven spitball users Gaylord Perry and Don Drysdale into the Hall, their righteous indignation toward other cheaters seems overdone. In fact, on the integrity and character scale, Roberto "I'm a Better Spitter than Gaylord Perry" Alomar probably doesn’t belong either, and even the cases of Babe Ruth and Ty Cobb, one a drunken womanizer and the other a jackass on and off the field, might be brought into question as well. And though he wasn’t a player, by the character and integrity standard, does Kenesaw “Who Needs Evidence?” Landis really belong? As for those whose names have been mentioned but for whom no compelling and exhaustive proof has been given, excluding them from serious consideration because of their era or because of mere rumor is a travesty and a miscarriage of justice, and those who engage in such a perversion are as bad as  those who use steroids--or worse because of their hypocrisy.

One writer said that this year’s elected players, Frank Thomas, Tom Glavine, and Greg Maddox, became hall of famers in their living rooms yesterday, presumably when the Baseball Writers Association of America announced their selections. Such arrogance! These men became hall of famers on the baseball diamond, in the dugout, in the clubhouse, in the weight room, in little league, in the yard with their fathers. I'm thinking there needs to be a baseball sportswriters hall of fame which is voted on solely by those who play the sport professionally. But if you lived in an era where caffeine was in use as a stimulant, whether you drank it or not, you're ineligible for election.

Although most (and certainly not all) of the players (and others) enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame deserve the honor, some who deserve the honor will never be so honored. The personality cult of baseball sportswriters--and, in one case, the arrogance of a man called "Mountain"--has seen to that. Until the Hall of Fame election process is completely overhauled or the sportswriters be taught humility and basic journalistic integrity, the true Baseball Hall of Fame will reside in the only pure shrine of baseball: the hearts and minds of its fans. Pete and Joe, you'll always be welcome in mine.

The Word Works: Reflections on 9/11

It's my generation's Pearl Harbor, our JFK assassination. We all remember where we were when the planes struck the World Trade Center. For me, that Tuesday morning found me in Hannover, North Dakota. I'd stayed with a pastor friend and his family for a little extra break after our Monday meeting with the pastors of our Circuit. Usually when I woke up at their house, my friend had already left for his study at the church. This particular morning he was still at home when I emerged from the guest room, and he was watching the television with rapt attention. I wandered over, and I was assaulted with the sight of smoke and flames billowing out of the first of the towers to be struck. My horror increased as we watched the second plane strike. I watched for a little longer, and then I jumped in my car without a shower to make the 150 mile trip back to my own parsonage. While on the road, I did something I never do: I listed to the radio, searching for news reports emerging from New York City--and then Washington D.C. and Somerset, Pennsylvania. I spent time on the phone between no-reception zones trying to get in touch with my sister and her husband who lived outside of New York City. I knew they lived far enough away, but maybe my sister had taken her class on a field trip to the World Trade Center that day? I didn't know, and I didn't hear back from my family until later in the day that they were okay. It's a day I will never forget: the confusion, the fear, the images, the uncertainty, the grief, the anger, and a whole host of other things.

Chaplain Kavouras

On this anniversary of that horrible terrorist attack--not to mention the anniversary of the terror in Benghazi a year ago (and I'm sure not mentioning Benghazi today would make the current administration very happy)--I didn't want to just throw out my narcissistic musings on the day and what it means. Instead I picked up and read a book I first read over a decade ago. The book is called Nine One One: The Aftermath--the Word Works. It is a compilation of the chaplain reports of the Reverend Dean Kavouras, an LCMS pastor who also serves as chaplain to the police and fire departments of Cleveland, Ohio, and the Cleveland Division of the FBI. Chaplain Kavouras served the workers in Somerset and those in Staten Island who searched the refuse from the World Trade Center for human remains. His reports show the power of the Word of God at work in the lives of people who spent long hours in an earthly hell in service to the families of those lost their lives on that awful September day.

Dean with my son Michael

These days my wife and I are friends with Pastor Kavouras and his beautiful wife, Barb. At the time, however, I only knew Pastor Kavouras from Internet interaction. Nevertheless, I was blessed to read these reports as they first came out. Rereading them today was a potent reminder of the power of God to do mighty work for the good of His people in the midst of the greatest of evil and the greatest of tragedies. Chaplain Kavouras and his faithful words and service guided me as I spoke with acquaintances and family after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita in 2005 and Hurricanes Gustav and Ike in 2008. His example also inspired me as I wrote my Thy Strong Word series of novels, where the main character is both a parish pastor and a chaplain to his local fire department. His guidance helped Pastor Corwin sound like a real pastor and chaplain instead of a bumbling idiot.

The national legacy of 9/11 is a curious one: wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the molestation of American citizens in the name of tightened airport security, political maneuverings, and in some cases the limiting of the freedoms for which this nation was founded. There has been a shift toward watching American citizens who exercise those freedoms with suspicion and fear. Homeschoolers, gun owners, Christians, political conservatives, and others are on terror watch lists. At the same time, the President of the United States refuses view a Muslim soldier who goes on a killing spree on Fort Hood while yelling "Allahu Akbar" as a terrorist or the attack as a terrorist attack.

As an American, as a Christian, as a pastor, as a husband and father, on days like today it's important to remember that "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places (Ephesians 6:12)." We are under constant attack from "the old evil foe," as Luther calls Satan, and it is true that "on earth is not his equal." Yet the victory is not the devil's, for our Lord Jesus Christ has defeated Satan with the sacrifice of His body and blood on the cross and with His glorious resurrection. That victory is applied to us in the waters of Holy Baptism, where we are marked with the name of God and clothed with the righteousness of Christ. Nothing this world and its prince can do to us can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I checked, and Nine One One: The Aftermath by Chaplain Kavouras is available from Lutheran Heritage Foundation. Call 1-800-554-0723 or send an e-mail to info@LHFmissions.org to order a copy. I cannot give this book a sufficiently fervent recommendation compared to what it deserves.

I pray you find comfort on this anniversary from the words of St. Peter, words which Chaplain Kavouras often drew upon in ministering to those entrusted to his care by the Lord:

Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world. But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you. (I Peter 5:6-10)

PARODY: God Save the USA

God Save the U.S.A.

(parody of “God Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood)

We used to call America
“the Land of the Free”.
We reveled in our liberties
from sea to shining sea.
But now it seems we’re changing
just a little every day.
They’re infringing on our freedoms,
and they’re taking them away.

And I’m scared to be an American,
'cause I'm not that sure I'm free.
And I shouldn’t even write this song
‘cause somebody’s watching me.
Brothers, let me stand up next to you
and defend her still today.
Let us rise up to preserve this land.
God save the USA.


Once the patriots were fighters,
and they stood up for their rights.
Now we have an act called “Patriot”—
keeps our citizens in sight.
They want to take our rifles,
free speech and God away.
Soon they’ll plant a chip in American heads,
lest the people rise and say
          
That I’m scared to be an American,
'cause I'm not that sure I'm free.
And I shouldn’t even write this song
‘cause somebody’s watching me.
Brothers, let me stand up next to you
and defend her still today.
Even now, I know I love this land.
God save the USA.


I am scared to be an American,
'cause I'm not that sure I'm free.
And I shouldn’t even write this song
‘cause somebody’s watching me.
Brothers, let me stand up next to you
and defend her still today.
Even now, I know I love this land.
God save the USA.


© 1984, 2012, 2015 by Lee Greenwood, Alan Kornacki

Remembering

I am not a solder, nor am I a military veteran. I'm 150 pounds overweight, I have bad knees, and I have a bruised spinal cord, all of which means I will likely never be a soldier or veteran. Simple truths. After September 11, 2001, when I was only 75 pounds overweight and my knees weren't quite as bad (and nine years before I nearly broke my neck), I gave more than a moment of thought to getting myself in shape and joining up as a chaplain. Whether it was doubt that I could get myself in shape, a sense of duty to the congregation to which I was called, the conviction that it was not what God had in mind for me, yellow-bellied cowardice, or whatever it was, I decided not to sign up. That was as close as I ever got to military service.

Despite that, I have a keenly developed sense of patriotism. I love my country. Sometimes that love of country leads in some interesting directions. Sometimes it's engaging in political debates best left to others. Sometimes it's getting misty-eyed at the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner", a song I love despite that fact that I find it musically and lyrically inane. ("O Canada"--now THAT is a great anthem both musically and lyrically!) Sometimes that patriotism means that I get frustrated, not understanding how some of our leaders can make the decisions they do, decisions which seem to be destroying our country a little bit every day.

But today, that patriotism means that I remember and honor those who have served in our armed forces, especially those who have died in service. Though Memorial Day is meant to be a day of remembrance of those who have died in that service, I also choose to honor today those who served and those who serve now whose time had not yet come, those willing to make that ultimate sacrifice. Though I don't agree with the politics of the individual members of Crosby Stills & Nash, they said it very well when they said, "Find the cost of freedom buried in the ground." Those who served in the American Revolution and all those battles and wars since have fought and often died to win and protect the freedoms we enjoy (and sometimes abuse) today in the United States of America. I am proud of the men and women who have served, who upheld the honor and integrity and freedom of this nation. I am proud of those who serve today, who continue to uphold those virtues we as citizens hold most dear. And I am humbled by and thankful for those who have died upholding those virtues.

For those of you serving in honor today: Thank you.

For those of you who have served in honor in the past: Thank you.

For those of you who have been wounded in the honorable service of our nation: Thank you.

For those of you who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the honorable service of our nation: Thank you.

Thank you for doing what I could not. God help me, I won't forget.

HYMN: Through Faithful Preachers You Have Planted

Before I begin my shameless self-promotion, I offer the following thought. Today is Veteran's Day, the day we honor those who serve their country in the Armed Forces. These men and women spend long months (and even years) away from their families to prepare their minds and bodies for war. Whether or not they serve in conflict, they prepare so that they may fight and die for the freedoms we sometimes esteem so cheaply. John Milton wrote, "They also serve who only stand and wait." This is most certainly true. I would add the following: They also serve who only crouch and wait . . . to kick some @$$. (See picture above left.)

To you who serve in our Armed Forces, whatever that service may be: Thank you. To you who wait at home while your loved one serves: Thank you. You make me proud to be an American.

Now on to the shameless self-promotion.

The following text is based on the Matthew 13 account of the parable of the sower. Feedback is appreciated.

Through Faithful Preachers You Have Planted

1. Through faithful preachers You have planted
The Gospel seed in human hearts.
This tender nurture You have granted:
Baptismal water grace imparts.
The seed becomes a glorious bloom
Dispelling sin's dread gloom.

2. Let not this seed find ground too stony,
But let it bloom and branch and grow.
Nor let it find the ground too thorny,
Lest with the weeds this faith you mow.
And let me never fall away
Nor let this seed decay.

3. Let me not wilt beneath temptation,
But let this shoot grow straight and true.
Let Satan not snatch my salvation
Nor wither my own faith in You.
Your Word will grow a hundredfold--
So bounteous to behold.

4. Lord, keep me steadfast, true and humble,
And in Your Word increase my joy.
In persecution keep me faithful
That I Your seed may not destroy.
Your seed will bear rich fruit in me
Unto eternity.


(c) Alan Kornacki, Jr.
98 98 86
Tune: ICH WILL DICH LIEBEN (LSB 694)

Mysteries of God

First things first. A blessed and happy Memorial Day to you and yours. At the risk of offending my Confederate friends, let me share this quote from the Battle Hymn of the Republic: "As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free." For over two-hundred years, Americans have died so that Americans can live free. Thanks be to God for the men and women who have been willing to pay that price for their fellow man both here and abroad. If you are currently serving or have served in the past, God bless you for your faithful service. In the midst of our picnics and parties, may we in the United States never forget that the cost of our freedom lies buried in the ground.


Now, on to my new charge. I'm settling in to life as a parish pastor again. Thought the waiting over the past four years and more has been a strain on me and on my family, I cannot deny that God did me no disservice by waiting to return me to parish ministry until this congregation was available. The people of St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill, Illinois, are a gift of God to me. Their love, their generosity, and their continual hunger for the Word remind me constantly of God's goodness. Keep your mega-churches, your congregations with $2 million in the bank, and every other temptation that claws at the souls of pastors. I am blessed to be where God has put me in this time and place. I have no desire to be or go anywhere else.

Two Years Later

In honor of the eighth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon as well as the attack thwarted by the passengers of Flight 93, I post here something I wrote on the occasion of the second anniversary 9/11.

_______________________

September 11, 2003.

We're now two years removed from the most heinous attack ever to occur on American soil. In many ways it is hard to believe that two years have passed since we watched the repeated footage of the collapse of the two towers of the World Trade Center, since we witnessed with horror the crater in Pennsylvania and the hole in the Pentagon. The images of that day were burned into our minds and hearts, images which will likely remain fresh and raw in our memories.

However, two years have passed. In many ways we have moved on. Outside of New York City—for who even thinks of the Pentagon or of those who crashed in Pennsylvania anymore?—it's hard to see how the attacks have affected our lives. Oh, we expect the inevitable delays in the airport as we wait through more intensive inspections and searches, and we're more inclined to be respectful of emergency workers than we have been in times past. But the flags have come down. Our cynicism toward the government has returned. The party spirit once again runs rampant.

But while life moves on, people are still in pain. For the husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters, family and friends of the victims of these attacks, the images are only the beginning. There are holes in their lives which will never quite be filled.

I am reminded of the speech which President Bush delivered shortly after the attacks, in which he tells of the badge a woman gave him. The badge had belonged to her son, and she gave it to the President in memory of her son. As he held it up during the speech the President said, "It is the reminder . . . of a task that does not end."

The task continues. There are still people who need our prayers and what comfort we can give them. There are still criminal terrorists who must be brought to justice. And we as citizens of this great nation must remember the cost of freedom—not only the lives of soldiers, but the lives of those who were murdered just for being citizens of this nation.

The party spirit will continue to grow. Our cynicism toward the government will resume. The flags may not come back out. But let us never forget the reason why, for one brief moment in time, we were not liberals or moderates of conservatives, nor pro-Life or pro-Choice, nor black or white. Let us not forget: for one dark and yet shining moment, we came together as Americans.

_______________________

I'm sad that I was correct in my predictions for how things would come to pass in the years that followed. What has come to pass is the responsibility of every American, and it is the responsibility of every American that we remember those who were murdered by extremists, that we remember and honor our police and fire departments, EMTs, armed forces, and all those who serve us in our darkest hours with their finest hours, and that we pray—pray for peace, pray for the healing of those who were left behind, and pray for the Lord to return in glory to bring us all home.