Rambling about Reunions.

"Something Happened." That was a clever line for those who get the joke.

The Blast from the Past (see the link) was special. Several people I invited were there, and they made it richer for all of us. (And several deprived us of your company!) :-(

Reunions are funny. They make me think of good times and bad, and ask weird "what if" questions about ancient history. I guess most of all, they're just very special times, especially a reunion like this one, with all your closest high school friends remembering the excitement of growing together and discovering God's Word, and His love, and His plan (the "A Plan") together. And of course, we got into all kinds of mischief along the way. That's fun too--or at least the memory of it.

Nevertheless, I'm here thinking about the futility of life. Yeah, that's right. It's always been a default position for me when I face things that dwarf me.

Seeing all these old friends--now older, with kids of their own, and all of us talking about our boys playing baseball, our daughters riding bikes and playing with American Girl dolls, and about teachers, and jobs, and bills, and struggles of every kind.... and so many of us have gained weight, lost hair, turned gray. Here and there you see sadness in some eyes, a sort of chronic sadness that's left by the deepest hurts. And it can feel overwhelming.

And I can't escape the notion that we've become our parents. And there will be another reunion and all our kids will be getting married, and more of us will have moved on -- to Heaven, that is. And a generation comes, and a generation goes, right? The world keeps on turning.

But I want to look deeper. To remember how many lives were changed in that youth group. (And it's worth mentioning that while marriage may be challenging for everyone, there were far fewer divorced at that reunion than national averages might have indicated.) No church is perfect (you sort of have to say that, don't you?) but a lot of good happened at First Baptist.

I think a lot of good has also happened since. Many of us have continued to walk with God, however faltering our steps may sometimes be. We share our faith, we teach Sunday school (or we should, right), and we volunteer, and we coach sports and run Scout troops and invest in young lives all around.

We may be gray and fat and bald, but our hearts were changed under Johnny's ministry (thank you) and we won't ever be the same. Nor will our homes. We may have become parents, but we have not become our parents. Most of us still operate with one advantage they lacked--the years we spent in America's finest youth ministry. We were so blessed, largely by the efforts of our parents, that our lives and our families will forever be so much better off.

I loved hearing Johnny speak the other night. It was a highlight for most of us, I'm sure. He will forever command my deepest respect. I learned so much under him, and grew exponentially. And I discovered my favorite book of the Bible one day at camp when I sat down and read--for no particular reason--Ecclesiastes. It blessed me that day and I've loved it ever since.

One line particularly fits these thoughts:

Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth.

I am so thankful that we were so strongly encouraged to get to know God then, to not put it off. I am thankful for that youth group. What a blessing.

Judges, Politicians, and America's Game.

The great misfortune is that a notion obtains with those in power, that the world, or the people require more governing than is necessary. To govern too well is a great science, but no country is ever improved by too much governing . . . most men think when they are elevated to position, that it requires an effort to discharge their duties, and they leave common sense out of the question.

--Sam Houston.



Consider baseball. Chief Justice John Roberts has said that he sees his role like that of an umpire, calling balls and strikes. But Roberts didn't elaborate--so I will. The umpire-judge doesn't make rules. And he doesn't play the game.



The judge calls balls and strikes. What he does not do is redesign the strike zone.



That legislative decision was made elsewhere. Another body made the rules. The umpire merely applies them. A strike is above the knees, below the shoulders, and above the plate. Anything else is a ball. Sure, the umpire is imperfect. But he knows his role: to understand the law as it comes down to him and apply it to everything the pitcher throws at him.



What is an activist judge? He's the umpire who makes up a new strike zone. And activist judges are judges who step outside their proper role as judges. They are like the politicians who enter office seeking new ways to assert and grow their own power and authority. Or like the ones who think only of creating a legacy. In other words, these people, both judges and politicians, are the ones Sam Houston complained of: "they think when they are elevated to position, that it requires an effort to discharge their duties, and they leave common sense out of the question."



Our system requires a Separation of Powers. On rare occasions, the Executive Branch shares a legislative role, and the Legislative Branch shares an executive role. For example, the Executive takes on a legislative role when he uses his veto power. And the legislature takes on an executive role when it is required to ratify treaties entered by the president with a 2/3 vote.



But at no time does the Judicial Branch (at least as contemplated by the Constitution) share either. This third branch of our government is entirely different from the first two. The first two are made up entirely of politicians. They look at problems, search their hearts, talk to voters, and sponsor and draft laws. But the courts are entirely different. They (usually) don't run for office, they do not respond to voters, they do not listen to anyone's heart, and they do not create new law (other than "interstitially"). Moreover, the Founders described the third branch, the Judicial Branch, as being by far, the weakest of the three. . . .



Robert Bork put it this way: "There is not the faintest hint in the Constitution . . . that the judiciary shares any of the legislative or executive power. The intended function of the federal courts is to apply the law as it comes to them from the hands of others."

--The Tempting of America: the Political Seduction of the Law, 1990. 4.

Obama Akbar! All Hail Obama!

From The Times of London
July 25, 2008
He ventured forth to bring light to the world
The anointed one's pilgrimage to the Holy Land is a miracle in action - and a blessing to all his faithful followers
by Gerard Baker

And it came to pass, in the eighth year of the reign of the evil Bush the Younger (The Ignorant), when the whole land from the Arabian desert to the shores of the Great Lakes had been laid barren, that a Child appeared in the wilderness.

The Child was blessed in looks and intellect. Scion of a simple family, offspring of a miraculous union, grandson of a typical white person and an African peasant. And yea, as he grew, the Child walked in the path of righteousness, with only the occasional detour into the odd weed and a little blow.

When he was twelve years old, they found him in the temple in the City of Chicago, arguing the finer points of community organisation with the Prophet Jeremiah and the Elders. And the Elders were astonished at what they heard and said among themselves: “Verily, who is this Child that he opens our hearts and minds to the audacity of hope?”

In the great Battles of Caucus and Primary he smote the conniving Hillary, wife of the deposed King Bill the Priapic and their barbarian hordes of Working Class Whites.

And so it was, in the fullness of time, before the harvest month of the appointed year, the Child ventured forth - for the first time - to bring the light unto all the world.

He travelled fleet of foot and light of camel, with a small retinue that consisted only of his loyal disciples from the tribe of the Media. He ventured first to the land of the Hindu Kush, where the
Taleban had harboured the viper of al-Qaeda in their bosom, raining terror on all the world.

And the Child spake and the tribes of Nato immediately loosed the Caveats that had previously bound them. And in the great battle that ensued the forces of the light were triumphant. For as long as the Child stood with his arms raised aloft, the enemy suffered great blows and the threat of terror was no more.

From there he went forth to Mesopotamia where he was received by the great ruler al-Maliki, and al-Maliki spake unto him and blessed his Sixteen Month Troop Withdrawal Plan even as the imperial warrior Petraeus tried to destroy it.

And lo, in Mesopotamia, a miracle occurred. Even though the Great Surge of Armour that the evil Bush had ordered had been a terrible mistake, a waste of vital military resources and doomed to end in disaster, the Child's very presence suddenly brought forth a great victory for the forces of the light.

And the Persians, who saw all this and were greatly fearful, longed to speak with the Child and saw that the Child was the bringer of peace. At the mention of his name they quickly laid aside their intrigues and beat their uranium swords into civil nuclear energy ploughshares.

From there the Child went up to the city of Jerusalem, and entered through the gate seated on an ass. The crowds of network anchors who had followed him from afar cheered “Hosanna” and waved great palm fronds and strewed them at his feet.

In Jerusalem and in surrounding Palestine, the Child spake to the Hebrews and the Arabs, as the Scripture had foretold. And in an instant, the lion lay down with the lamb, and the Israelites and Ishmaelites ended their long enmity and lived for ever after in peace.

As word spread throughout the land about the Child's wondrous works, peoples from all over flocked to hear him; Hittites and Abbasids; Obamacons and McCainiacs; Cameroonians and Blairites.

And they told of strange and wondrous things that greeted the news of the Child's journey. Around the world, global temperatures began to decline, and the ocean levels fell and the great warming was over.

The Great Prophet Algore of Nobel and Oscar, who many had believed was the anointed one, smiled and told his followers that the Child was the one generations had been waiting for.

And there were other wonderful signs. In the city of the Street at the Wall, spreads on interbank interest rates dropped like manna from Heaven and rates on credit default swaps fell to the ground as dead birds from the almond tree, and the people who had lived in foreclosure were able to borrow again.

Black gold gushed from the ground at prices well below $140 per barrel. In hospitals across the land the sick were cured even though they were uninsured. And all because the Child had pronounced it.

And this is the testimony of one who speaks the truth and bears witness to the truth so that you might believe. And he knows it is the truth for he saw it all on CNN and the BBC and in the pages of The New York Times.

Then the Child ventured forth from Israel and Palestine and stepped onto the shores of the Old Continent. In the land of Queen Angela of Merkel, vast multitudes gathered to hear his voice, and he preached to them at length.

But when he had finished speaking his disciples told him the crowd was hungry, for they had had nothing to eat all the hours they had waited for him.

And so the Child told his disciples to fetch some food but all they had was five loaves and a couple of frankfurters. So he took the bread and the frankfurters and blessed them and told his disciples to feed the multitudes. And when all had eaten their fill, the scraps filled twelve baskets.

Thence he travelled west to Mount Sarkozy. Even the beauteous Princess Carla of the tribe of the Bruni was struck by awe and she was great in love with the Child, but he was tempted not.

On the Seventh Day he walked across the Channel of the Angles to the ancient land of the hooligans. There he was welcomed with open arms by the once great prophet Blair and his successor, Gordon the Leper, and his successor, David the Golden One.

And suddenly, with the men appeared the archangel Gabriel and the whole host of the heavenly choir, ranks of cherubim and seraphim, all praising God and singing: “Yes, We Can.”

[For those of you in Rio Linda--it's satire.]