bierkergaard

Eze 18:20 The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. Deut 5:9 Thou shalt not bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them; for I, Jehovah, thy God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the third and upon the fourth generation of them that hate me. Critics of the Bible like verses like these two because they seem contradictory. But, hold on ye would-be Feurebach, let us think about this a little more deeply. The Bible is a profoundly realistic book. Here these verses articulate the difference between the legal/judicial AND relational consequences of the father's sins upon his progeny. The relational sins of the father will almost always have a negative consequence on his children. If he is a drunk, an adulterer, a thief, a murderer, or a...

I live in Lancaster County and work in York County, and never twain shall meet (to steal a line from Rudyard Kipling ). "Oh, East is East and West is West, and never twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat ." When I work, I work. When I am not at work, I don't want to any in any sense feel as if I am at work. Like run into my students at the supermarket. Or the mall...not that I go to the mall anyway. I love the bifurcation by bridge of my life. For nearly twenty years I have tried to leave my home burdens on the Lancaster side and my work burdens on the York side like some psychological umbrella. Some might classify this a schizoidal but it works for me on a conscious level. One umbrella is red, the other white, and when I use them, is determined by day or night. The Houses of York and Lancaster....some ancient monarchy issue of where loyalties were, symbolized by a red or white rose. Subconsciousnessly, I probably am always ...

There is an older couple across the street in little old Mountville who are Russians. I asked the man a couple of years ago why he moved to America and he looked at me, and looked around, and raised his hand in a sweeping gesture. That was enough of an answer...guess it was kind of self-evident. Stupid suburban me, taking it for granted. A more interesting question would be, "Why here?" I have been praying that I would get to know him better. Somewhat ashamed that I do not know his name after living across from he and his wife for over four years. I cleverly call them the "Russkies." I am quite the coiner. He often comes outside after I return from my runs. It happens too often to be a coincidence. It almost seems as if he is waiting for me...he walking out of his door and up the driveway holding his little grandson's hand. His little grandson often looks wary of me...a 6'8" sweaty dude panting and doubled-over. Probably gives the little guy nightmare...

Watched M. Jackson's This Is It documentary last night on Netflix. The title became in his death more true than anyone could have imagined. Michael was looking for redemption through the show, partially financial it seems, yet more as an artist. The stage for redemption is not London, or New York, or LA. It is Calvary.

So, there I am today at our CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) farm picking up our copious weekly allotment of vegetables and fruit. I was early birding in that we are not supposed to be there until 4 but I really did not feel like hanging out at work on a Friday afternoon which is close to the CSA in Hellam. A fellow CSA'er pulls up and we exchange pleasantries. After we get our produce, he comments I look hot. Kind of an obvious statement...it was close to 90 degrees and I was wearing a dress shirt and a tie. I concurred, "Yeah, I am hot." Not exactly deep discernment. But, it was a set-up of sorts. Out of his trunk, he pulled out a chilled Sierra Nevada Pale Ale from a six pack and gave it to me. I will never turn down a good beer; that would be like a seagull declining to eat a stray French Fry on the beach. Jesus says that when we give a cold cup of water in his name we are blessed. I think the same blessing transfers when we give away a beer. I know that I was b...

Watched Good Will Hunting tonight for Cinema Spirituality. Typical...girl (and not so typical) therapist save guy, with some Amadeus thrown in. Still a good film. Loved the line, "Let the healing begin." Think that this will be be my mantra tomorrow in Guidance. Healing is most certainly needed in the broken world of kids. It is always makes me laugh and sad when kids are lectured about the real world out there after high school. High school is as real as it gets. Cut the kids a break. It is not as easy to find your way as we seem to think now that we are adults. 'nuff said.

When I get stressed out, I step back and look to see how I can get things organized. I often need to stop in the middle of the madness and plan before proceeding...otherwise I react impulsively. One of my favorite ways to reset is to get a haircut. There is something about seeing the shagginess depart and fall like snow onto the barber's floor. He squares off the back of my neck from a "V" to a straight line. Best of all, he buzzes my wild eyebrows. I am not one to go to the barber once a week...I usually appear every five weeks or so. If I weren't so cheap, I think I would like to get a trim every two weeks. Yet, that is not going to happen. I walk out feeling like a new man...plus I got a grape Tootsie Roll Pop to savor out his jar!