Brewster said, “Let’s play, Lady.” Lady’s response? “Nah, you go ahead. I’ll just plop down right here.”

Where I have been recently the sunsets in the evenings rival the sunsets in the deserts of Iraq. Unless you are blind I do not understand how you could be unmoved. Well, that is not true, I suppose. I do understand how someone could be unmoved, but the reason for that has nothing to do with his eyesight. It’s not a physical problem but a spiritual one.

Though I tend to go back to the original sources (ad fontes) in my reading habits, there are some men so important, so wise, so enduring, that it is unwise to not read some solid biographies of them and their oeuvre, in addition to their own works. G.K. Chesterton is one such figure. His mind and pen sliced through the pomp of intellectual pretense. His witticisms often surpass those of H.L. Mencken and Mark Twain.

What does this have to do with golden sunsets in November? Chesterton knew that this world (and all of us creatures within it), though fallen, is charged with the fingerprints of God. The staunchest secularist does not look at his child and think, “What an accidental result of time, matter, and chance. Why should I love you?” Um, no. Listen to this zinger from Chesterton:

“A turkey is more occult and awful than all the angels and archangels. In so far as God has partly revealed to us an angelic world, he has partly told us what an angel means. But God has never told us what a turkey means. And if you go and stare at a live turkey for an hour or two, you will find by the end of it that the enigma has rather increased than diminished.”

In other words, creation is worthy of wonder because it attests to its Creator. Since the book of creatures is beautiful, how much more beautiful is its Author.

I appreciate the ability to express ourselves through the internet and various media outlets. That ability can be a huge blessing. In times of separation from loved ones, I’ve nothing but praise for FaceTime and WhatsApp, for example. They can lessen the loneliness of being separated due to work, deployment, etc. But when one gets to a place where he substitutes distraction for depth, he has forfeited the good things involving depth, beauty, and wisdom for shallowness, distraction, and kitsch.

Thanks, G.K. You saw things. More importantly, you understood why we are to see things. That makes all the difference.

“A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver,” is a way Scripture explains imparting biblical wisdom.

Today I got a text from a brother in the Christian worldview, a brother in ministry. He texted me this gem from the Christian martyr Alexander Solzhenitsyn: “To stand up for truth is nothing. For truth, you must sit in jail.”

If you take some time to read Solzhenitsyn, think about what he wrote, said, and lived out–and look what it cost him–it may inform the way you interpret and address the melee and subversion we are enduring in our days (or is it daze?).

She was standing on the side of the interstate, screaming, jumping up and down, as smoke poured from the car’s engine. There was a young man beside her, dialing on his cell phone frantically, and trying to calm the woman, but she continued to point at their car as she screamed. The car roiled in smoke. Flames could be seen through cracks in the car’s parts. The woman had her hands outstretched. She appeared as one pleading, petitioning.

In another location, I-85 headed north was locked down for nearly six miles. The vehicle (I was driving south), when I passed it, was overturned and burning. Then there were multiple vehicles behind it, having crashed into one another like dominoes of catastrophe. A Hispanic family stood adjacent to the state patrol cars, near the shoulder of the road. A platoon of children scurried nearby, bewildered. Several in the group had their hands outstretched–in exasperation or prayer, I cannot say which.

Maybe I’m imaging things, but there seems to be a significant increase in the volume and severity of automobile accidents recently. I’ve spent a lot of time on the interstates recently, going hither and yon. I was out of town today, too, but I got a friendly text from a peer with a message inviting me to join him and his family at their local church. I texted him back saying I was planning on being there.

When I pulled into the parking lot I was touched by the sheer beauty of the church’s architecture. I sat in my car for a moment, grabbed my Bible and journal from the passenger’s seat, and followed some others into the narthex. Greeters stood in the narthex, greeted all of us, offered us a bulletin containing the order of worship and liturgy.

I immediately felt a pull here. The structure of the church, the way you entered the nave, the way the musicians were off to the side, not on a stage like one might witness in a concert venue, the way the chancel was the focus of those gathered–it all moved me spiritually.

There was a prelude, a call to worship, Songs of Ascent, a greeting from the senior teacher-pastor, prayers of invocation, songs of praise, a baptism, a reading from the catechism and Scripture about what Christian baptism signifies, a time of individual and corporate confession of sin, more songs (of assurance, of God’s pardon, etc.).

I sat with my peer and his family about two-thirds of the way back in the nave. We sang. We sang together. The acoustics in the church were spectacular. I could hear the harmonies sung by members in the congregation. Sometimes I would just pause . . . and listen.

These guilty hands are raised, filthy rags are all I bring,

And I have come to hide beneath Your wings.

These holy hands are raised, washed in the fountain of Your grace,

And now I wear Your righteousness.

In front of me, a white-haired married couple sat near the front. They were probably in their eighties. I watched them both as we all sang. They raised their hands. We all continued to sing. The man rocked a bit in rhythm as we sang the chorus, which he obviously knew well. His wife had her hands outstretched as if she saw not darkly but in full. They were beautiful to behold as we beheld the God who has revealed Himself, the God who has visited His creation, and dwells among His people.

I have seen horrors this week on the nation’s roads–families weeping with their arms outstretched in exasperation, in cursing, in pleading, in petition. And I have seen saints with arms outstretched in praise, confession, in assurance of pardon, and in song. The God who is remains the same–unchanging, near to all who call on Him in truth.

When I was a seminarian, I had a pastor-friend who, when he was teaching one night, mentioned that Hebrews was his favorite book of the New Testament. He was one of the most gifted teachers and fellow pastors I have known.

We are similar in our love of studying history and of how the book of Hebrews serves, among other things, as a commentary on the Old Testament as the blueprint for salvation history, the work of redemption. I think it was Augustine who said something like, “The Old Testament is the gospel concealed; the New Testament is the gospel revealed.”

For my fellow soldiers and civilians at Ft. B. Wednesdays from 1200-1300, we will continue an hour of fellowship, food (I’ll provide lunch), and time in the Scriptures–specifically in the book of Hebrews.

We will look at several themes we can relate to as soldiers, Christians, and/or anyone facing temptations of returning to one’s former ways.

We are all at different places in our pilgrimages, but we can work together as a team, and trust the Lord, as His Word addresses the following (and more) themes in the book of Hebrews:

• Fear (of others, of being ostracized, of persecution, of not having all the answers)
• Accurate faith in the hero of redemption: Christ
• Perseverance
• Trustworthiness of Christ & Christianity amidst hostile & competing worldviews

If you are nearby or can follow the blog, I’ll update the lessons for any/all who are interested.

Pro Deo et Patria (“For God and Country”),

–Chaplain Pirtle

Why pay attention? Because if you don’t, you may be forfeiting more than a snapshot.

One of my favorite poems is Walt Whitman’s “A Noiseless Patient Spider.” Here is the whole poem:

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

Typical of the literary period of Romanticism, Whitman emphasizes the individual, the power of imagination, and the individual’s search for transcendent meaning.

A Slice from Contemporary Life: Over recent days, I have tried to assay–to really pay attention, examine, look at carefully–beauty. Whitman watched the spider launch filament out of itself in a search for an anchor. Foundations are crucial for all creatures. Even Whitman admitted that.

A few days back I was hiking, and I passed a tree that I’ve stopped at many times before (pictured below). Yet again I paused, sat on it, wondered how and why it grew the way it did (what is its background story?). It was beautiful in its own way, knots and all.

This week, at least where I have been, the weather has gone from sunny and warm, to rainy and cool, and everything in between. I have snapped shots, whenever I could, of images that arrested me. Sometimes the sun would cut through the clouds when I was running (okay, jogging is probably more accurate). At other times, the live oaks that grow abundantly here took me back to childhood days when I would climb their massive limbs and smell the oaks and the soil in landscapes I have never outgrown.

Whitman’s soul longed for a place to land, a place to anchor. I think he touched on what great writers sense–that we creatures look up at the sun piercing the clouds, and out at the trees which grow for centuries, and marvel because there is an architecture to this world only God could fashion. And we are blessed when we pause, look around (and even up), in gratitude.

Yesterday I drove over 500 miles. I was on the road both when the sun rose and when it set. I drove through mists and rains on the trip south in the morning. When I returned north in the afternoon and evening, the skies still were filled with storm clouds from the rains but occasionally sunlight would throw lances of gold across the roads and the trees. When I neared my home, whitetails scampered across the roads. This season’s rut is nearing and so the bucks are growing careless because their focus is not on their own safety at the moment. Some of the trophy bucks who are normally solitary and otherwise keep off the beaten paths now appear more often in populated areas. I love to watch them, especially the ways in which their hides change colors with the seasons, the ways the bucks mark their territories via rubs and scrapes. I love to watch the fawns lose their spots and grow bigger and less skittish, their moms weaning them and teaching them to forage for themselves. It’s a spectacle wherein I feel gratitude. Gratitude reveals a lot about a person’s theology.

There’s a passage in Luke 17:11-19 where Jesus healed ten lepers who cried out to Him, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us” (v.13). And Jesus did heal them, all ten of them. Guess how many came back to thank Jesus? Ten? No. Nine? No. Eight? No. How about five? No. How about two? No. How many lepers, miraculously healed by the Lord Jesus of their leprosy, thanked God? One. Again, gratitude reveals a lot about a person’s theology.

And Jesus’ subtle response? “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?”(v.17). When a person demonstrates thankfulness/gratitude, he reveals his theology.

I had some good news come my way recently. I accomplished two big professional goals I had set for myself. Plus, a door opened in ministry for me, something I have wanted to do for a long time, a position I’m beginning soon. And I am, well, grateful. God gives good things.

Folks divide into those who feel and show gratitude and those who don’t. For me, it seems the scent of gratitude is better, proper, in accordance with design. It reflects the proper order of things, our dependence upon the Creator, our posture of thankfulness to Him who does all things well.

Illustration: Over recent days I was able to take to the trails again. I took different routes this time, steeper ones. The views always more than repay the efforts needed to make the climbs. The flora differs on the rocky ascents. Laurel fills the saddles. Rock outcroppings serve as handholds on the spurs. Felled trees from the winds lay in abundance. I strung up my hammock at a good spot, unzipped my ruck, retrieved a Gatorade and a book. Today was a sample from one of my enduring favorites: Flannery O’Connor. She had a sharp tongue, a sharper pencil, and a mind aflame with the things of God. And because all things exist under the sovereignty of God, she wrote about a lot of things–some pretty, some grisly.

I looked down towards the direction I’d ascended the last few miles. Still breathing heavily, pulling on the Gatorade, the wind against my sweaty face felt good. When I looked back at various times, several passages came to mind. One of them was an enduring favorite from the pen of Moses when he wrote to Israel in Deuteronomy 7:

Wisdom from God: For you are a people holy to the LORD your God. The LORD your God has chosen you to be a people for his treasured possession, out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth. It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but it is because the LORD loves you and is keeping the oath that he swore to your fathers, that the LORD has brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt. Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations, and repays to their face those who hate him, by destroying them. He will not be slack with one who hates him. He will repay him to his face. You shall therefore be careful to do the commandment and the statutes and the rules that I command you today. (Dt 7:6-11)

Context: Moses was reminding the people that God’s people are chosen by God and chosen for holy purposes. It was not that they were special in and of themselves. Far from it. They were not special. It was simply God’s sovereign grace towards them. He chose them, not vice versa. And Moses the mediator was reminding these people that God is faithful, that He keeps his covenants and promises, and that He repays. God is not fickle. He is not a fair-weather friend. No, He is unchanging, holy, and faithful.

Connection and Encouragement: Today my wife and I celebrate 20 years of marriage. I am certainly nothing special but I do know this: I would not be where I am without the grace of God towards me, without the patience of God towards me, and without the faithfulness and patience of my wife towards me. She keeps the train of our lives on the tracks while I get to do what I love.

When I looked back down the trails, I could see the granite outcroppings, streams I had crossed, massive trees above and below, and I looked down, and then up, and then out and across at the display before me. I tried to recall the passage from Deuteronomy from memory. God calls His people not to forget Him, not to become smug, not to be proud–but to be faithful, humble, and to work hard at what He has commanded us to do. He gave me a good thing when He brought her to me (Pr 18:22) and it is my joy to provide the best I can. I’m remembering my history while on the trail this week, and I am glad it has been, by God’s grace, with my CJ. It is important to remember our history and the faithfulness of the Lord, and the faithful ones He puts in our lives.

Years ago when I became an Army chaplain I was asked to speak at a conference. The text of Scripture assigned to me was Luke 4:1-12. It is one of the places in the New Testament that records how Jesus, the last Adam, was led by the Spirit of God into the wilderness. Over the course of 40 days Jesus was tempted by Satan–to turn stones into bread, to usurp God’s authority and glory, and to test God by leaping from the pinnacle of the temple. Satan’s goal was to elicit failure from Jesus, the last Adam. Surely Jesus, God incarnate, would fail, just like the first Adam/man did in the Garden of Eden. But it was not to be Satan’s way or Satan’s day.

First, why is the Hebrew name Adam significant? It means “man.” Adam was the first man. He was the federal head of the human race. He was charged by God to steward creation (Gen 2:15), to obey the Creator (Gen 2:16), and to hold fast to his wife Eve (Gen 2:24). But of course, the first Adam failed (Gen 3:6). He and Eve sinned against God, the One to whom they owed everything. They had only one stipulation: obey the Lord. But they didn’t. They, like all of us, rebelled. Then they tried to hide their sin (Gen 3:8). They sewed fig leaves together to hide their nakedness (Gen 3:7). Human shame entered the cosmos.

When I opened my Bible and read the passage from Luke to my peers, many appeared to have some knowledge and understanding of the passage’s significance. But I don’t know if they connected it to the failures of the first Adam. The first Adam failed the obedience test. He failed to lead his bride perfectly. But through the chosen, promised offspring, God determined to show mercy to us rebels by raising up One who would obey perfectly. The sin bloodline would be broken via Mary being overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. Jesus, the last Adam, would accomplish what the first Adam failed at.

Second, God promised to bring the One who would bruise/crush the serpent’s head (Gen 3:15). One would come who would lead His bride (the Christian church) perfectly by purifying them with His blood and clothing her in His garments.

This promised One, the last Adam, Christ Himself, denied satisfying Himself with Satan’s offer of stones become bread, and of men’s applause rather than God’s commendation, and of presuming upon God’s patience.

Christ, the last Adam, was tempted, but passed the temptations. Provided we repent and turn to God in the gospel of Christ, God does not abandon the human race in the last Adam. God satisfied His own demands for righteousness through the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the last Adam.

And for all those who are in the last Adam, they need not try to flee the presence of God by sewing fig leaves to cover their shame. Because the last Adam has taken their shame. He has become the curse for their sin (Gal 3:13). He bore the wrath they deserved. They are no longer exiles from the kingdom but sons and daughters of God.

Getting ready to set out on several miles of hiking. 70 degrees Fahrenheit currently and partly cloudy. A slight breeze. The above picture is from a friend of mine from Sunday school class. The others on this blog are from him, too. (He gave me permission to share his pictures.) We both love unaltered pictures of creation. He traveled to Florida with his family recently and these pictures are from that trip.

In Psalm 8, David wrote, “O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens” (Ps 8:1). I have read this psalm many, many times but it is interesting how David accomplishes several things in just this one verse. First, he heralds that God is the Author of creation. He calls Him, “O LORD, our Lord” (Ps 8:1a) in his opening poetic salvo of praise. It is God’s majesty being declared in the earth by way of creation. In other words, God is not hiding. God has painted the world in explosions of poetic color to say, “I am the Artist. This spectacular creation reflects aspects of Me. Worship Me. Seek Me. Find Me.” And David rightly addresses Him as the Lord. The posture is of David’s humility and God’s exaltation. And God was going to take the humble shepherd-boy and raise him to be a king, a foreshadowing of the God-man Himself, Christ the Lord.

Second, David says in the second section of verse one, “You have set your glory above the heavens” (Ps 8:1b). In other words, God is not the creation. His glory is “above the heavens.” It’s a poetic way of saying God is transcendent. He is separate from it and more glorious than what He has made. Creation is good but is not to be worshiped. Worship is for the Creator. That is the designed order of things.

The second picture reminds me of how our days are numbered. It appears to be of the sun setting. Children, too, in the bottom right of the photo seem to know, too, that God speaks through His creation. This is not a random, accidental universe where all is material. Poetry exists because writers recognize that beauty exists. Beauty exists because God, the Beautiful One, exists, and He is calling creatures He loves to simply recognize these obvious truths and to worship Him properly. The sun is setting on our days, though.

As I depart for the creeks and hills and valleys in a few moments, the leaves on the hardwood trees here are already changing colors and falling. The floors of the forests are filled with leaves from oaks and hickories and maples. The colors range from yellow and gold to bronze, burgundy, red, violet, maroon, and more. They never get old to me. They fall, decay, replenish the soil. The deer stick their black nostrils into the leaves, scrape back leaves and limbs, and munch acorns and briers that lurk below–all in poetic design. I simply watch and recognize and record what the Author has written in His world. And it leads to praise.

Darkness falls now. Clouds roll over the sea. The winds toss the waves. The smell of salt and brine. The sounds of the night creatures begin their thrum. And I know that the canvas is not an accident, that we are beloved and created to worship the Author of the canvas, the One who said, “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease” (Gen 8:22). And I know it is again time to lace up the boots, pack the water bottles, put on the rucksack, have my camera and pencil and paper. So that I don’t forget. So that I remember why David’s poetic posture was what it was, why David wrote, and why he was so moved.