How do you handle your disappointments?  P.T. Barnum (1810-1891) is famous for the phrase “There’s a sucker born every day.” If he really said it, he was talking about himself. I read his autobiography when I was a young teen. He wrote in his book that when he was born, his grandfather deeded to him a piece of property called Ivy Island. He was reminded throughout his childhood that he owned Ivy Island and dreamed of the adventures he would have on his personal island one day. When he was 10, he finally saw Ivy Island. “It was a worthless piece of barren land,” he wrote. The joke was on him. He was 15 when his father died. He became sole provider for his mother and five sisters and brothers. P.T. Barnum understood disappointment and pain, yet somehow discovered the faith and courage to embrace life. 

It is my observation that people tend to undervalue their victories and overrate their disappointments. We undervalue our victories, joys, and successes with words such as, “It was just luck,” “I happened to be in the right place,” or “It’s no big deal.” We overrate our disappointments with words such as, “Things never work out for me,” “No one understands,” or “I always get the raw deal.” If I’m not careful, I can nurse my disappointments as if they are wounds that will never heal. If I’m not careful, I can focus on the circumstances around me rather than on the Spirit that forever holds me.

Around age 30, P. T. Barnum wanted to buy what would be his first museum of curiosities. He was not able to raise much money, so he made a deal. He mortgaged himself to the building’s owner, proposing for collateral: good references, a determination to succeed, and a “valuable and sentimental” piece of property known as Ivy Island. A year later he was out of debt. In his 50’s, Barnum took positions against slavery and the death penalty and for temperance and equal voting rights. He was nearly 70 when he teamed with James Bailey to provide “The Greatest Show on Earth.”  If you read about Barnum’s whole story, you will discover he spent his life overcoming disappointments and severe setbacks with a Christian’s faith and courage.  

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Be an overcomer. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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Some of us, of a certain age, will remember The Lone Ranger, a made-for-TV western series that ran from 1949 to 1957. As the story goes, six Texas Rangers were ambushed by a gang of outlaws. The one survivor, the unnamed younger brother of ranger Captain Daniel Reid, was nursed back to health by a Native American frontier scout named Tonto. When the ranger told Tonto he was the only ranger left, Tonto called him the Lone Ranger. Because he was assumed dead, the ranger decided to hide his true identity from everyone except Tonto, so he could “stand for justice and fight for what is right.” They marked six graves. The Lone Ranger was wealthy, for he owned a silver mine which provided the ore for his silver bullets. When they found the ranger a new silver-white horse, Tonto called the horse Silver. Tonto’s own horse was called Scout. The Lone Ranger shot his guns sparingly, but when he used them, he always aimed to disarm the bad guys. He never identified himself publicly as the Lone Ranger. He always left a silver bullet as an answer to the question, “Who was that masked man?” 

I met Clayton Moore once in the Richland Mall in Waco, Texas. He had been court-ordered to remove his mask, for Hollywood wanted to cast a new, younger Lone Ranger, not one that was over 65. He wore black wrap-around sunglasses under his Stetson. He greeted everyone and signed autographs for fans like me. I think I heard The William Tell Overture playing in the background.  Clayton Moore was born in Chicago. Jay Silverheels (born Harold J. Smith) was the son of a Canadian Mohawk tribal chief. Their lives as actors are forever intertwined in our memories. Tonto means “wild one.” Tonto called the Lone Ranger kemosabe, “faithful friend or trusty scout.” They needed each other. The Lone Ranger never rode alone, and neither should we. 

Who is your faithful friend? Who is your kemosabe? You do not need to wear a mask today or shoot bullets to stand for justice or fight for the good. We do still need each other. I think that is why, when he was at his loneliest, Solomon was reminded that, There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. (Proverbs 18:24) You also can be that friend.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Never ride alone. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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This week’s Reflections is from a commentary I wrote for the on-line Center for Congregational Ethics, to go with the Revised Common Lectionary Reading for August 5, 2021, based on 2 Samuel 13:37-14:24.  It assumes the passage will be read before the article.

This Story Does Not Have a Happy Ending

Context matters. Beginning with chapter 11, the rest of the book of 2 Samuel reveals the dissolution of David’s family and the political struggles for his throne. The death of Amnon, the heir-apparent, left the exiled Absalom next in line. For three years the nation had faced an uncertain future. David is brokenhearted, angry, and depressed. Joab stages an intervention.

The plot is to trick the king into doing something about his situation. The script is written by Joab, the king’s harsh military general and confidant. An actress is enlisted to dramatically play the widow in distress: “Deliver us from the man who is trying to cut off both me and my son from God’s inheritance.” Coded language to make the point. As with Nathan the prophet, David is caught up in the tale, but then realizes the subtext. “Joab put you up to this,” he says. “Very well, I will do it. Bring back Absalom, but he must not see my face.”  It may have been the ending Joab was hoping for, but today’s audience is left unsatisfied. What about David’s heartache and depression?

Joab uses the king’s pain to his own advantage. All this elaborate subterfuge was to advance Absalom’s quest for the throne rather than seeking to heal the king’s heart and mind. In the end, there was no planned direct conversation between father and son, no opportunity for reconciliation, resolution, or forgiveness. No happy ending.

What are the ethical implications of this story for today? Are our political and personal conversations so filled with manipulation and coded language that we are missing the happy endings that honesty and truth afford?

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I am always asking myself, “What time is it?” That question ranks right up there with the other self-talk question, “What am I going to eat next?” I wore a wristwatch for many years, except for that brief period during the post-hippie era when three-piece suits and pocket watches were all the rage. I was hard on my wristwatches. They broke or they cracked or clouded up with condensation. I resorted to having a Sunday or special occasion watch, and an everyday one. I have discovered that it is not really about the watch; it is the tyranny of the clock I am wrestling with.

During my college days I served as song leader with Evangelist Bob Posey. We held revivals in small towns and in rural churches, mostly in Alabama, for 2 or 3 years. It is amazing how God puts unlikely experiences in our lives to help equip us for future service. We found one church that was dominated by the tyranny of time. It was an old country church near Phenix City, Alabama, which is a suburb of Columbus, Georgia. (That is the correct spelling of Phenix, founded in 1830 as Girard, but re-named in the 1880’s after the local mill.) To an outsider it can be the most confusing place in America. The town proper is in both Lee and Russell Counties Alabama, and spreads into Muscogee County Georgia. Therein lies the time problem. Alabama is in the Central Time Zone; Georgia is Eastern Time. Crossing the street can put a person across the invisible time boundary. Phenix City tends to be on Eastern Time even though it is in Alabama. But many hardcore time purists stay on Central Time for the principle of it. When we announced that revival services started at 7:30 p.m., we had to clarify that meant 6:30 p.m. Central Time. Starting things on the half-hour was sort of a compromise with the time to reach the community for Christ.

I no longer wear a watch, but I can learn the time from my cellphone. The drumbeat of time marches onward. Ephesians 5:15-16 teaches us to redeem the time, seize the opportunity, for the days are ever evil. 2 Corinthians 6:1-2 reminds us “now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.” 

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Discern the time. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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