Category: Articles

Jesus did a slight of hand. He drew the crowds with help for healing and hunger. He healed and fed them and then told them about hope of eternal life.

We must go beyond reminding people of how hopelessly lost we are in sin. That much is evident.

Every media and publication blares at us about how bad things are.

We are battered and beaten with tragedy and disaster.

We must go to the world that is weary and desperate for some good news.

We have the skills and experience as well as the substance to help.

Help someone today and ask God to allow this opportunity of helping to be an opportunity of sharing Christ.

Hope Disguised as Help. That is how we win souls to Christ.

Then said they unto him, Lord, evermore give us this bread.

And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.

John 6:34-35

I roll up my car window when beggars approach. Why should I risk feeling bad about having them indulge in something they don’t need when I can do the same for myself and feel good about it?

I can always find a reason to not give. I don’t have time to fill out the paperwork, or the instructions are too vague. I am not sure how much the relief agency is profiting on this effort. Maybe they already have enough donors and the money will sit unused.

So in order to make the answer very simple, I indulge in self pleasures. I know where it goes and I know how it makes me feel.

It is a tough habit to break. And truthfully, it is a tough habit to want to break. We leap from crisis to crisis, from disaster to disaster, from tragedy to tragedy. All the while, I find myself throwing out the envelopes with hungry children’s faces, turning the channels from the last flood, hurricane, fire and war. Don’t let me start with the abused animals. After all my giving won’t stop the next disaster.

However, that being said, if I am staring in your car window one day…, indulge me please, or at least, help feed my dog.

Proverbs 21:13 He who shuts his ear to the cry of the poor, will also cry himself and not be answered.

Doctor Johnson, my son is possessed with demons. He has fits of rage, speaks in a strange voice and even appears to have seizures at times. Our lives are disrupted. I have taken him to the hospital, he has been admitted and seen every kind of specialist without any change. What should I do? Is this demon possession? Should we seek a medicine man, witch doctor or priest?

This is not an actual scenario, but a composite. I had these kinds of question while in Kenya. It was always frustrating to me because I never was sure if the strange behavior wasn’t due to a persistent brain lesion from an infection, or a nutritional deficiency seen in people who suffer chronic malnutrition. During my time in Kenya, we had no real access to CT scans and getting someone to see a neurologist or psychologist was nearly impossible due to long and expensive travel over dangerous roads in unpredictable weather.

I put this question to a visiting Kenyan psychiatrist at our hospital. He was a very strong Christian and put it in this perspective; referring to Jesus’s interaction with His accusers, when asking Him to whom should they pay their allegiance and taxes. They showed Jesus a coin hoping he would choose to dishonor Caesar as He clung His calling to serve His Father. Here is the Messiah’s answer;

Matthew 22:20-22 And he said to them, Whose is this image and superscription? They say to him, Caesar’s. Then said he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s. When they had heard these words, they marveled, and left him, and went their way.

The bottom line is we must give the patient his medication and pray for him at the same time. We render unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and unto God the things that belong to God. Since all science is only made possible by God’s allowing man to investigate, discover and research, record and recreate (man cannot create), we can acknowledge man’s hand in healing. But it is God who gives us the wisdom, insight, resources and capability. The tools of learning are in a creative mind that was created.

There is always the move to attribute healing to either man or God. In truth, only God heals and sometimes He uses drugs. I am approached by people who want to stop their diabetic, hypertension, lipid and other medications. They don’t want to have the breast cancer removed or even refuse blood transfusions. They don’t want to start the medicines because they believe they will be hooked on their water pills and if they can just take the right nutritional supplement, garlic, wear the copper bracelet or drink the right solution, they will be healed.

My answer to them is, God uses drugs. You should too.

Psalm 103:2 Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget none of His benefits; who pardons all your iniquities, Who heals all your diseases

These words take on meanings based upon the times in which they are coined. Some of what we used to deem as offensive terms are now held in great honor and distinction. It is an alphabet soup with LGBTQI A a list of terms that seem to change with the seasons.

It is so much the fact that to even hint at disagreement can render one’s career and reputation in shambles. Even families members will denounce their own as narrow minded, bigoted and out of touch with present day thinking.

I am proud to say that I am not a homophobe. I am a homophile.

What does that mean? Well it means to me at least, that I am not fearful of those who choose or claim a lifestyle that is contrary to the things I hold dear and believe to be true. It means I can actually embrace the person, without embracing, nor endorsing the lifestyle.

I am not a homophobe. I am a homophile. I love mankind because God loves mankind. At the same time, I do not adhere to the notion that to believe contrary to the majority opinion is wrong. I am allowed to think. God gave me that.

Indeed no matter how widespread the opinions maybe, or how highly respected the one who holds the opinion, I am no more obliged to agree with them, nor they with me. The point is not whether we agree with each other, but do we agree with God. God commands and expects me to love everyone. He does not command nor expect me to embrace, nor endorse their lifestyles.

Each of us must answer to God about our views on these issues. I would much rather be held in derision by mankind, than by God. It is a gamble I know. I know how to love mankind, without loving the lifestyles they choose. That is homophile, not homophobe.

Acts 5:29 King James Version (KJV) 29 Then Peter and the other apostles answered and said, We ought to obey God rather than men

It takes a special kind of hate. You will never understand just how special that hate is unless you have lived on both sides of it. The majority population in this country will never understand it because they always have the option of living on one side. The minority population has no option but to listen to, interact with and negotiate with both sides.

I have listened to the racial tirades, epithets, slurs, insults from both sides. This allows me, and those like me, to be able to understand this special kind of hate. This special hate breeds more of its own in the perverted sense that unless it keeps hate alive, people will start to love one another as Christ said.

This special hate needs an object to vilify. It feeds and comforts itself by nourishing the thought of necessary revenge. It keeps itself pure and clean from hope of resolution and reconciliation, by reminding itself of just how evil they believe others are.

It is a special hate that can reach back for hundreds and yes even thousands of years…., and cause pain to those of present day.

This hate is special. To understand it you must live on both sides.

Can’t Cage This Rage

I am carrying my computer bag and dressed in my scrub suit. I walk up to the receptionist at the doctor’s office, and politely wait my turn as she is attending to someone. When she is finished I approach the desk. Before I can speak she asks me; ‘are you here to deliver something?’

This gets old. I am getting old and so is this routine. What would make her think I was the delivery boy? Is it my scrub suit? Is it my computer bag draped over my shoulder?

I really know the answer already…, and this routine is getting so old.

‘No mam, I answer.’ I am here to meet Dr. Pauls. I have an appointment.

I do my best to forget what she asked me because I was trying to cage the rage rising inside of me. Caging rage gets old too. I guess by process of elimination, being the only black man in the room…, I must be delivering something.

So I understand the rage unleashed in Baltimore this past few days.

“This is a slow-rolling crisis,” Obama said. “This has been going on for a long time. This is not new and we shouldn’t pretend it’s new.” (President Obama commenting on Baltimore events of the week)

For instance take this story from The Washington Post section The Watch

The city (Baltimore) has spent $5.7 million on settlements and awards, and another $5.8 million in legal fees. Were it not for the statutory limit (which frankly seems both low and unfair), the former figure would likely be a lot higher.

U.S. cities pay out millions to settle police lawsuits

On a cold January afternoon, Jerriel Lyles parked his car in front of the P&J Carry Out on East Monument Street and darted inside to buy some food. After paying for a box of chicken, he noticed a big guy in jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and a baseball cap.

“What’s up?” the man said to Lyles. Others, also dressed in jeans and hoodies, blocked the door to the street — making Lyles fear that he would be robbed. Instead, the man identified himself a police officer, frisked Lyles and demanded he sit on the greasy floor. Lyles objected.

“The officer hit me so hard it felt like his radio was in his hand,” Lyles testified about the 2009 incident, after suing Detective David Greene. “The blow was so heavy. My eyes swelled up. Blood was dripping down my nose and out my eye.”

The Baltimore detective offered a different version of events in court, saying that Lyles’ injuries might have resulted from poking himself in the face. He also couldn’t say why officers stopped Lyles, who was not charged with any crime.

But jurors didn’t buy the officer’s explanation. They ruled in Lyles’ favor, and the court ultimately ordered the city to pay him $200,000, the statutory limit in Maryland for most lawsuits against a municipality . . .

Over the past four years, more than 100 people have won court judgments or settlements related to allegations of brutality and civil rights violations. Victims include a 15-year-old boy riding a dirt bike, a 26-year-old pregnant accountant who had witnessed a beating, a 50-year-old woman selling church raffle tickets, a 65-year-old church deacon rolling a cigarette and an 87-year-old grandmother aiding her wounded grandson.

A recent report cited Philadelphia policeman were charged and convicted of planting evidence and even lying under oath. Former Philadelphia drug squad police officer Jeffrey Walker admitted in court that he and his coworkers would routinely plant evidence and shake down people for money. Walker pleaded guilty to corruption charges and is now testifying in order to put other corrupt cops behind bars. More than 160 drug convictions have been overturned and the department has been inundated with civil rights lawsuits

Cities around the country face the same dilemma, mounting literally to billions of dollars in lawsuits paid out for police actions…, and broken lives of victims, families, communities for something that quite frankly are after a while, getting old. How many schools could have been built, after school programs and city libraries could stay open if that money were better spent?

I never corrected the receptionist. It was actually the second time that week that I had faced such prejudice. I know that if I as an educated man who has options of which car to drive, what restaurant to eat at, which pair of shoes to wear can be dismissed because of my complexion…, I might want to burn down something too. It does get old after a while and caging this rage is difficult.

I have always known this. My mother instructed me a long time ago. There is really no safe position for a black man who is confronted by a policeman. Even when running away I cannot be safe. My best chance is to stand still, with my hands up. That way the officer can discharge his weapon fewer times, possibly less frustrated trying to hit a moving target.

Hands up, stand still is the best chant. Either that or roll up in a ball and play dead. It makes it easier to put on the handcuffs.

I am my brother’s keeper. I just want to keep him far away from me! The present furor and panic over a deadly disease that is poorly misunderstood has made it very easy to popularize a call for keeping those who come from epidemic zones as far away as possible from ‘the rest of us’.

This makes for great political debate and when coupled with righteous anger can make or break a career. We are hopefully turning the corner on this and can become Christian again. We are our brother’s keeper. We need to keep him close.

After all, Jesus touched and healed the unclean by using spit and mud.

Genesis 4:9 And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?

Matthew 9:20 And, behold, a woman, which was diseased with an issue of blood twelve years, came behind him, and touched the hem of his garment:

I am my brother’s keeper. I must keep him close to win him to Christ.

A friend of mine told me about his frugal uncle’s approach to eating apples. Given a barrel of apples, his uncle was determined not to let one of them be wasted, so he would eat the over-ripe and rotten ones first and save the best for last. As you can imagine, he said, he never ate a good apple. He was always eating what should have been long ago discarded.

I have looked at my own life this way. I could concentrate on the rotten, overripe, wrongs and failure of my past, or focus on and rejoice in the present joy that God has allowed.

A strong word of advice is to let go of the past. No matter that it may be wasted years, months, weeks or days…, reliving them trying to undo, re-digest them serves no purpose other than to make you miss out on what is good and present and sweet about today.

Life in Christ is filled with sweet fruit. Eat and enjoy.

Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the man that trusts in Him Psalm 34:8

She stood in pain. Arthritis in cold wet weather does that. That pain can make you stand still and sure enough, she was not moving, just standing. It was obvious that the wait for the next bus would be uncomfortable to her mind and her body. She watched with longing eyes the previous bus pull away. She had missed it by seconds. I was fortunate, or you might say, unfortunate enough to have witnessed the unfolding scenario from the comfort of my car.

A cold wet Sunday morning in Philadelphia found me heading to church and as usual, I was in a hurry. I am a deacon. The pastor depends on me. The people expect me to be in place. My fellow deacons await my arrival. I have a reserved seat up front, next to the pulpit. I can’t stop for this woman. She can wait for the next bus. She should not get too wet, after all, it is only drizzling not a heavy rain. And of course, I am good enough already. I don’t have to prove to anybody that I am good by stopping and giving this woman a ride to church. I am good enough.

The Holy Spirit speaks. Good enough never is. I slowed to stop. I turned the corner and hopped out of my car.

“Would you like a ride to church dear sister?” I said this as I was opening the passenger door, correctly assuming could she not say no.

Why of course Deacon Johnson, came her smiling reply. And less than two minutes later, with her cane and multiple small bags, she was seated comfortably, warm and dry in the back seat, secured with a seat belt. We arrived with time to spare. That is, Christ had not returned yet. No earth shattering events had occurred, and most importantly, my special seat was untouched.

My good enough never is. It is always based upon what I feel I can hold back because it is my right to preserve something for myself. Why should I give all to Christ? Why should I be inconvenienced? Why should I take concern over the wickedness in our world? Hungry children have always been hungry and naked unhealthy people are too numerous to count. I need to give just enough to say I gave, not necessarily enough to make a difference. That is good enough. To be seen given suffices. God counts that as filthy rags. It is self-serving and self-satisfying. I feel good by convincing myself I did good enough. Good enough never is. It accepts mediocrity, not excellence. Then of course there is mediocre mediocrity and mediocre, mediocre mediocrity and…, well it goes downhill from there. Good enough accepts what is allowed, not what is best. Good enough is not what God wants from me. He wants my best. He gave His best and only that is good enough. We can never give God what is good enough, unless we give Him our best. Anything less is filthy rags. Isaiah 64:6 New Living Translation We are all infected and impure with sin. When we display our righteous deeds, they are nothing but filthy rags. Like autumn leaves, we wither and fall, and our sins sweep us away like the wind.