Luke 3:1-6

Haiku: November 11 - December 23

 Wind pushes the leaves

Framed by my kitchen window

Gray sky forecasts rain

Mind unsettled

But the new day has begun

Must get on with it

The early birds trill

Otherwise the world is still

Wait! A mouse scampers!

Biting morning chill

When I stick my head outside

Return to the warmth

One leaf to my head

One flower - cups of delight

What will she see next?

Night gathers troubles

A deep breath before the start

Tackled one by one

If they don't see it

They walk past the road blindly

Did they really look?

Excited dancing

They want to leave right away

"Where are we going?"

Wake at the same time

The hills outlined with a glow

Mornings are dark now.

Winter's breath is cold

Bites my nose outside the door

So go back inside!

Make morning coffee.

Half table spoon vanilla

Then milk to the rim

Going the right way

Or just going on orders?

Could be spirals?

Red leaves on the ground

Yellow leaves wind blown in tress

Grey clouds loop above

Yellow orange red

Leaves on trees splayed like hands

Welcoming the chill.

Parking lot entrance

A wave. Sign asking for help.

What is my real thought? 

Geese fly overhead.

Unenviable commute

To the north office.

Birds chatter outside

First sun after the rain stopped.

Catching up with friends.

Christmas tree sculptures.

Illuminate our selfies.

Then the light turned off.

In the fain leaves fell

Littering the whole yard.

With red and gold stars.

Rain puddles out front.

No dry path that I can walk.

The wind kept awake.

Want to walk today

The rain biting my face.

Going back inside.

Rain-caught while walking.

Hiding under the fir tree.

Sun-caught drys me out

Smell of bread rises

Greets me coming down the stairs.

Invites me to dine. 

Bright car head lights shine

Damp streets from yesterday's rain.

Leaves stain the pavement.

Slow but steady rain.

From here to city and back.

Now, outside is dark.

Yellow bandana

Yellow squares in a  basket.

Cornucopia. 

Long rides through the air.

Sleeping through clouds and the sky

Arriving at night.

Crows circle my head.

Looking for a place to land.

In my crumpled hair.

Wintered plants line paths.

Streams dotted with dawdling ducks

White egret soars by

Did you sense I'm gone?

Half-awake in the morning.

Rolling to the warmth.

Too cold for a walk. 

Hands and ears and lungs burning.

House door inviting.

Shuffling, awake

Fuzzy early morning thoughts. 

Stumble out of bed.

Leaves of the bouquet.

Littler the kitchen table.

Need some renewal.

Sunrise to sunset.

Shadows inch close to be free.

Hide, lengthen, then fade.

Song of rain patter.

Makes we want to keep sleeping. 

But shoes left outside.

Finch perched on a branch.

Waiting for the rain to pause.

Or food to appear. 

Red in my windows.

Sunshine catches morning clouds.

Don't open the door!

Bird silhouette strolls

Across my morning walk's path

Walking unaware.

Hummingbird again.

Tries to sip winter flowers.

Leaves to try elsewhere.

Little Christmas tree.

Looks through the window and dreams

Of the forest's green.

Philippians 1:3-11: He Does Not Stop And He Does Not Lose

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.  - Philippians 1:3-11

 "...being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." One of the great confidences in life is that God does not stop and God does not lose. Sometimes we are greatly disappointed in ourselves, finding that we do what we ought not even when we should know better. Sometimes God is greatly disappointed in us, finding that we do what we ought not even when we know better. But he does not stop and he does not lose.

I'm not sure how this works out.  I remember the stories in the Old Testament where God tells Moses to stand aside after the whole country disappointed Him and he was thinking of restarting the whole saving-the-world-through-Israel idea over with just Moses. God told Moses: "How long will these people treat me with contempt? How long will they refuse to believe in me, in spite of all the signs I have performed among them? I will strike them down with a plague and destroy them, but I will make you into a nation greater and stronger than they.”  (Num. 14:11b) But Moses didn't think that was a good idea. So God didn't stop and didn't lose, because Jesus came and Jesus won, even over our collusion with disobedience. 

God can make it work with me. Which is pretty incredible. But it makes sense, because who am I that I could get in the way of God Almighty? And God has plans for me, which is also pretty incredible. He has places he wants me to go and things he wants to see and my small-time, stupid stubbornness is not sufficient to thwart him. Anyone tells me differently is a liar and that is good news. I don't always known how that can be true, but I'm glad it is.    

Malachi 3:1-4: A Chance to Choose God

 “I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,” says the Lord Almighty.

But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness, and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable to the Lord, as in days gone by, as in former years. - Malachi 3:1-4

We sing about "create in me a clean heart" and "refiner's fire" in worship songs as if it is such a warm, fuzzy and desirable thing. Desirable unless you are the thing being burnt or scrubbed. "But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears?" 

God wants pure people, people whose loyalty is undivided. I think he teaches us who we really are--whether we are his people--by offering us choices time and time again and letting us see what we do with that choice. God is not surprised by the choices, nor is he necessarily surprised by our answers but I think that sometimes we are surprised that we are or are not the type of people that we thought we were. 

Those choices that he offers can be hard choices between what we really really want and God. God asks which is important and I think that we are sometimes shamed into admitting that the other thing that I am choosing is actually more important than God. That is very humbling to admit, but I think that it is the foundation for the people who want to live lives acceptable to God--lives that are significant. 

So the fire is painful not just because it hurts. And not because the other thing was even bad. But because we choose something that is not God. We are faced with what is really important and the choice signals for us a chance to choose God. 

Mark 13:1-8: Don't Look Into The Continual Church of Crises For A Messiah

As Jesus was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!” “Do you see all these great buildings?” replied Jesus. “Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”

As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are all about to be fulfilled?” Jesus said to them: “Watch out that no one deceives you. Many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am he,’ and will deceive many. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains. - Mark 13:1-8

"Watch out that no one deceives you. Many will come in my name, claiming 'I am he' and will deceive many." When we perceive that the world is unstable, we instinctively look for someone that can offer us stability.  Jesus' disciples pointed at the temple as a sign of stability. "What massive stones! What magnificent buildings" they exclaimed. But Jesus told them that it was all going away. It wasn't going to last. 

Then he told them to watch who they trust. Wars. Rumors. Conflict. Earthquakes. Starvation. These things continue to happen. When they do happen, we look for the new "Messiah!"--someone who will save us. A continual churn of crises leads to a continual cycle of people promising to protect us from the pain.  This is how it is, so we shouldn't look to the problems to reveal the solution. The problems just shows how broken we are and how broken the world is. There is no solution within the system. We have to look beyond the world system. We should look to God. Anyone who promises different is selling something.  

Psalm 16: Letting Go Of Our Dreams First

Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge. I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.” I say of the holy people who are in the land, “They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.” Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more. I will not pour out libations of blood to such gods or take up their names on my lips.

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead, nor will you let your faithful one see decay. You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. - Psalm 16

"Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance."

This reminds me of another slightly deceptive verse in Psalms: "Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." (Ps. 35:9) It seems to be saying that God will give you what you want. But that part about the desires of your heart is the second half of a sentence. The first half reads, "take delight in the Lord" then followed with "and he will give you the desires of your heart." That is: desire God and He will give you...God. He will give you what you want as long as what you want is God. 

The verses in our passage describe the "boundary lines" describing the edges of a plot of land, one inherited. But that part about boundary lines is the second half of a sentence. The first half describes the inheritance like this: "Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup." That is, the inheritance received is the Lord himself.

Our problem is that we want too little. Our desires are too small, too tepid, our imaginations are too  unambitious. We settle. We settle for so small. But giving up on choosing our boundary lines means that we inherit so much more. It is a scary thought. Sometimes we think that choosing the devil we know would be better than choosing the unknown what God would choose for us. We have to let go of our dreams first.  

1 Samuel 1:4-20: Brave Enough To Trust Him Now

Whenever the day came for Elkanah to sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters. But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, and the Lord had closed her womb. Because the Lord had closed Hannah’s womb, her rival kept provoking her in order to irritate her. This went on year after year. Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the Lord, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat. Her husband Elkanah would say to her, “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?”

Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli the priest was sitting on his chair by the doorpost of the Lord’s house. In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying, “Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.”

As she kept on praying to the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, “How long are you going to stay drunk? Put away your wine.”

“Not so, my lord,” Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. Do not take your servant for a wicked woman; I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief.”

Eli answered, “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.”

She said, “May your servant find favor in your eyes.” Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast.

Early the next morning they arose and worshiped before the Lord and then went back to their home at Ramah. Elkanah made love to his wife Hannah, and the Lord remembered her. So in the course of time Hannah became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, saying, “Because I asked the Lord for him.”

When her husband Elkanah went up with all his family to offer the annual sacrifice to the Lord and to fulfill his vow, Hannah did not go. She said to her husband, “After the boy is weaned, I will take him and present him before the Lord, and he will live there always.”

“Do what seems best to you,” her husband Elkanah told her. “Stay here until you have weaned him; only may the Lord make good his word.” So the woman stayed at home and nursed her son until she had weaned him.

After he was weaned, she took the boy with her, young as he was, along with a three-year-old bull, an ephah of flour and a skin of wine, and brought him to the house of the Lord at Shiloh. When the bull had been sacrificed, they brought the boy to Eli, and she said to him, “Pardon me, my lord. As surely as you live, I am the woman who stood here beside you praying to the Lord. I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.” And he worshiped the Lord there.

The opinions of your rivals are not the opinions of God. People can make you feel miserable for something about which the Lord has the opposite opinion. Penenniah was probably insecure, seeing her husband favor the other wife. She was successful in the eyes of the people around her, increasing Elkanah's family with numerous happy events. But still he preferred her and gave her the special attention, like the double portion of the meat from the offering. So she took the one thing that was different between them-the ability to readily bear children-and attempted to make it the prime attribute by which Elkanah, her husband, should use to judge between them. Further, she used it as the attribute to continually remind Hannah aboutn And it was the attribute that the people around her would use as a sign that God was surely blessing her--not that other woman. She was insecure and used what she had to push Hannah down and it worked, making Hannah feel trapped and helpless and miserable. So she prayed.

One of the remarkable things about Hannah's response was that she wanted the answer to the prayer, but when she got it, she did not try to hold on so tightly. It reminds me of the way that Abraham was so desperate for a son that he manipulated things to try and get one in a way not ordained by God, using other people to try and make it happen. But at the end, when God demanded that he give Isaac as a sacrifice, he set out the next day to do it. He had learned to let go. 

So Hannah kept the child Samuel but then let him go. In many ways, that is what we do with children anyway. We raise them and then have to give them over to God. If we fail to do that, then we hurt them and dishonor God in thinking that he's not capable of raising them. I don't know that I would be as brave as Hannah at such a young age for my children, but I do hope I can be brave enough to trust him now.

Haiku: September 27-November 10

Air is still and warm
Yesterday the wind's blowing

Leaves return then fall.

Anxious thoughts untested

Seldom pausing or resting

Then I close my eyes.

The heat of summer

Lingers in the tree leaves

Before they change colors.

Anger never solves

Except for further anger--

To provide fuel.

When the week looks long,

One dose of inspiration

Is all that I need.

Mornings hold no chill

Skies promises no remorse

With relentless blue

Day looms with a cloud

I wish I could go back to bed

But the clock insists.

Hummingbirds sip tea

While watching their enemies

Drink on their enemies.

Only one problem 

Will keep me awake at night.

The moon is my friend. 

Gathering people. 

The murmur of soft voices

Then the first chord plays. 

Wrinkles seldom shock

Except when you smile or frown

More as you're older.

A man speaks no words

So he is considered wise

Even if he's a fool.

Carrots for rabbits

And apples fed to horses

Then cheese for the mouse

Heavy winds on shore

Shelter in place, run to hid

There is no place safe.

Half cup of water

Dirty dishes are waiting

Need to make breakfast.

Sat on wooden seats

Then to the padding of trains

Then to my pillow

I really should wake

Or do the thing I should do

Instead close my eyes.

The bird silhouettes

Apples sit on the table

Early morning light.

Hummingbird pauses

Takes a sip before going.

Watering house plants.

The world is quiet

In the dark of the morning

A cat wanders by.

The moon has risen

I survey the night landscape.

Owls glide silently.

Why am I worried?

I awake with the unanswered.

Lingering alert

Dig lawn in the front

Looking for grubs messily

At night, what is it?

Sleepy on the brain

Sunlight pays across my eyes

Rustling sounds behind

The smell of baked bread

Meets me when I come home

And a playful smile.

Studying Bible

Morning talks with friends go long

Excitement lingers

Did I learn new things?

Or learn how to use the old?

Each is exciting.

Flights home are waiting

But something is left behind

I'll go out again

Scream of winter jays

Bold because chicken is gone.

Taking the back yard.

Sleepy eyed morning.

The sky shifting and blue

My mind is waking.

Journal, bible, book.

Laid open on the table

All is in order.

Tree is tilted

Grape vine's trellis fell over

The wind has come through.

Look out the back door

The feel of the chill in the air.

Back in for a coat.

Looking for reasons.

Why are one more and one less. 

My reasons fail God.

The walk together.

Lightly discussing the day.

Then we fall silent.

Peach and green pumpkins

Resting on the side table.

Not to be eaten.

Reading the poems

Makes me think, chuckle, wince, cry, 

All in three brief lines

The Tales Of Fred And George: Chapter 6

Fred was a snake, green and glorious. George was a turtle, mottled green and yellow and slow. They were friends, or at least one of them thought so.

But they both knew Bernadette, the sleek red racer from up the river who made Fred's tongue skip a slither whenever he thought of her.  They were a couple. Or at least one of them thought so. 

Fred was determined that Bernadette would see him for a sly smooth talker--the way he saw himself. But so far, his attempts to impress had been met with less than spectacular results. In fact, an outside observer might rightfully concluded that she didn't really know that Fred existed and when he thought deeply, that single thought crushed Fred's not-insubstantial ego.

How to get Bernadette to notice him? Toss that. How to get Bernadette to like him? He had tried to parade in front of his neighbors with her present. Failure. What he needed was for Bernadette to catch him in the act of some feat of derring-do! 

As he usually did when contemplating these deep questions, he went to consult with his friend George, who was idly circumnavigating one of the ponds formed by the handiwork of beavers in search for water bugs and small fish. And that was how most of George's days proceeded: wake, onto the log to catch the first rays of the morning sun, swim around the pond for lunch, another long stretch on the sun-warmed rocks with legs extended and then a quick nose around for dinner. 

Except when Fred happened by. Fred was one of the few sources of unadulterated excitement in George's life, so he always had time for Fred.

This time, Fred came to the edge of the slow eddy along the bank of the stream and gesticulated wildly to get George's attention, which involved waving his head back and forth in rapid movements and hoping that George noticed or at least heard his whispery voice from the short. Finally George happened to swivel around and catch a glimpse of Fred's green dance on the short. 

"Hmmm?" he said, his mouth still full of cricket. 

"George!" Fred exclaimed. "You must help me, my friend. It is of the utmost import!"

George's heart managed to accelerate by a single beat per minute at the thought of his supreme importance. "Fred. Did...something...happen?"

"No, no nothing happened." Fred twitched impatiently.

"Oh." And George started to turn away.

"Nothing has happened yet. It is what must happen that is important." Fred quickly supplied.

"Oh. What must happen, Fred?" George queried, his heart accelerating yet one more beat.

"Well I don't rightly know, George." Fred answered.

"Oh." And George started to turn away, thinking where his next cricket might come from. Maybe by the tuft of dried grass?

"Wait! That's why I need your help. I need to know how to get Bernadette to be impressed with me. She's quite the fine red racer and I would like to know her. You know, she would like me if she knew--if she saw how impressive I was."

"Hmmm...well, Fred, I don't know. What is so impressive about you?"

Fred was flabbergasted. I mean, this was his friend, right?

"I mean....I mean, I'm green....Oh...you were suggesting that I should I enumerate my outstanding qualities."

"Mmmm... yes, why would a snake of Bernadette's quality pay attention to you?"

"Well, really, George...oh, you did it again." Fred cocked his head to one side, his tongue flicking in and out idly. "Well, one, I am good looking." He struck several poses before his reflection in the still water at the river bank.  "Yes, very fine. Two, I am famous in this forest." 

Calling out to a passing otter in the river, he said, "Warren! Yes, over here on the shore. Warren, who am I?" "Why you are that snake that tricked me out of my second fish the other day!" answered the irritated otter. "See, famous among forest folk. Third, I slither swiftly." And he dashed around the base of the tree and then up to its lowest branches, so quickly that George lost sight of him. "Fred? Fred?" he called before he glimpsed Fred's form above him. "Oh, there you are Fred!"

"And, then, fourth and most importantly, I am clever and persuasive. Yes, very clever."

"Fred...how will you show that you are clever?"

"Well, I need to think about that bit for someone as humble as I am, not used to showing off or anything." And he went back to his thinking spot, high in the elm tree and George went back to his nibbling of stream-side water cress and afternoon swims.

Kidnapped by Raven, paid for by Fred for coin, freed by Fred when Raven lands, Bernadette's not there as arranged.

 

Ah, that is the brilliant part. Bernadette will see that I am a snake above the ordinary. Fred can rescue someone from the most dire of circumstances."

Mark 10:46-52: More Disappointing To Never Ask

Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”

So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”

“Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road. - Mark 10:46-52

 I think that people who are living with a person with some sort of weakness often have a co-dependent relationship with the people around them. That is, when they try to do something different or get out of the environment that they are in, the other people rally around to keep them in that situation. The people in Jericho that day, they were comfortable with Bartimaeus the beggar. He was always there at the gate, asking for coins outside the city gate. He heard the sounds around Jesus the Messiah coming through town and made a play on the mercy of Jesus. The people told him to be quiet. This was Jesus and here he was making a bad final impression on the rabbi leaving town. They didn't need him healed, but they did need Jesus. So they told him to stay back.

But he went against them and continued to call out for Jesus. Who knows what he was actually expecting to happen. Maybe he thought Jesus, as a good rabbi, would give him some money. Maybe he thought by calling Jesus the Messiah ('son of David') he might get something more.  Interestingly, Jesus didn't pay attention to the crowds, but listened to the noisy, annoying shouts of the beggar. Amid all that noise, Jesus picked Bartimaeus' voice. 

He was bold. When told that Jesus' stopped, he went quickly. When asked what he wanted by Jesus, he asked boldly, not for the easy ask, but for his sight back. And Jesus gave it to him because of his faith--his trust--that Jesus could actually do it.

I think we are sometimes hesitant to ask God for things. He is not obligated to give anything. But sometimes the very act of asking says that we believe God could do it, if he wanted. Not asking is to express doubt that God would ever turn his favor on us. It is disappointing to have God say 'No' to something we prayed for, but it is even more disappointing to have us never ask.

Hebrews 7:23-28: No Term Limits for Jesus

Now there have been many of those priests, since death prevented them from continuing in office; but because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.

Such a high priest truly meets our need—one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens. Unlike the other high priests, he does not need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people. He sacrificed for their sins once for all when he offered himself. For the law appoints as high priests men in all their weakness; but the oath, which came after the law, appointed the Son, who has been made perfect forever. - Hebrews 7:23-28

The Pharisees of Jesus time had two conflicting problems: how to maintain the  relative peace (albeit under the thumb of the Romans) and how to disrupt that peace if the Messiah should come.  The New Testament period featured several attempts by would-be Messiahs to push the Romans out. These attempts would continue with the armed uprising in 70 AD continuing until about AD 135 with the final rebellion led by Simon Bar Kokhba. That means, shortly after Hebrews was written, the temple was destroyed, all residents of Jerusalem were forcibly exiled and foreigners were settled in much of Israel. No temple, no Jerusalem and no land. 

This was partly the result of unresolved tensions, not between Israel and Rome, but within Judaism itself. Since the time of Moses, Israel understood the the priesthood was supposed to be held by descendants of Aaron, from the tribe of Levi and the after the time of King Saul, the kingship was supposed to be held by descendants of David, from the tribe of Judah. But in the time of Jesus, the king (King Herod) was not a Jew at all. He did not report to God but instead directly reported to Caesar.  In the time of Jesus, the temple was not the first temple (build by David), nor the second temple (build after Nehemiah and Ezra), but a third temple built by this king Herod and governed by high priests hand picked by the king. Herod installed a rotating line up of Sadducees as high priest who we more liberal in their outlook and who accommodated Herod's moral failings (see John the Baptist!).

Into this setting, the author of Hebrew asserts that Jesus was superior to all of the high priests, past or present. He also wasn't a Levite (like Herod) but the author asserts that he comes from another priestly lineage--one whom pre-dated even their forefathers Abraham, Moses or Aaron-Melchezidek. He performed sacrifices, interceded with God and accepted the tithes of Abraham.

Priests acted as intermediaries between God and man, a bridge between the worlds, meeting the requirements of both the holiness of God and the participation in the suffering of man. As Hebrews says, "Such a high priest truly meets our need—one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens." Jesus did these perfectly. He can hear our prayers, sympathize with our weakness and lead us into righteousness. And he can do this always because he still lives and he didn't get replaced when his "term" was over. 

To me, the part that speaks most closely to my heart is that he can sympathize with the weakness that comes from being human and what comes from being tempted.  (not just the weakness due to sin) Hebrews says he can empathize with us and deal gently with us. "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin." (Hebrews 4:15) and "He is able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and are going astray, since he himself is subject to weakness." (Hebrews 5:2) Frankly, this is what I hope for-not a strict moralist but a loving savior.

Job 42:1-17: That's The Genius of God

Then Job replied to the Lord: “I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’  Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. “You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’ My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.”

After the Lord had said these things to Job, he said to Eliphaz the Temanite, “I am angry with you and your two friends, because you have not spoken the truth about me, as my servant Job has. So now take seven bulls and seven rams and go to my servant Job and sacrifice a burnt offering for yourselves. My servant Job will pray for you, and I will accept his prayer and not deal with you according to your folly. You have not spoken the truth about me, as my servant Job has.” So Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite did what the Lord told them; and the Lord accepted Job’s prayer.

After Job had prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before. All his brothers and sisters and everyone who had known him before came and ate with him in his house. They comforted and consoled him over all the trouble the Lord had brought on him, and each one gave him a piece of silver and a gold ring. The Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys. And he also had seven sons and three daughters. The first daughter he named Jemimah, the second Keziah and the third Keren-Happuch. Nowhere in all the land were there found women as beautiful as Job’s daughters, and their father granted them an inheritance along with their brothers.

After this, Job lived a hundred and forty years; he saw his children and their children to the fourth generation. And so Job died, an old man and full of years. - Job 42:1-17

 "You have not spoken the truth about me..." Twice God hands out this indictment to the friends of Job. It is a bit strange, since from a casual reading of the first 40 chapters of the book of Job, they are mainly accusing Job himself of some hidden sin for which he is now reaping the consequences. But God doesn't say, "You have not spoken the truth about Job..." No. He said, "You have not spoken the truth about me..." About God. They said that God was just and God was all knowing. That seems fair and these are things we would agree with. So what was it that they got wrong?

I'm not sure. But they were sure insistent that Job deserved to be punished. They were sure the only reason that would lead God to act the way that he did was because Job deserved it. But we know, from chapter 1, that there was something else going on in the universe, a conversation between Satan and God and we know from those verses that God had incredible confidence in Job. They presumed that Job must have been guilty because their little minds could not conceive of another reason for God active the way he did and that he would act in a way to punish Job, the most righteous of men. Their little minds were boxing God in, saying that he must act in a certain way. They were telling God how he should act.  And God wasn't going to let that stand.

I think that a valuable lesson that I have learned is that God is very creative and possibly delights in solving impossible problems in ways that are (a) consistent with his character and (b) not thought of by even his friends. What God expects is that we expect God to act fully in character but not slaves to our pre-conceived ideas. We know he loves us and that he will act fully in line with that, but how he does it...well that's the genius of God. 

The Prince and the Princesses: Chapter 3

The next morning, all the royal siblings gathered in the bedroom of the youngest princess. They were very surprised because they found a very large turtle under the pillow of the youngest princess. 

"We have to do something with that...that reptile" exclaimed the elder princess. "Are they reptiles? Or are they amphibians? Anyway, we need to get it out of here before the king and queen find out."

The royal prince, who was wise in the ways of turtles, stated definitively, "They are reptiles. And I have a plan."

"What?" the princesses exclaimed.

"We just have to sneak the turtle out of the castle and put it back in the moat. The moat is big enough and the moat's water will act to keep it from growing bigger. The same way that goldfish stay small because of the aquarium where they are kept." he said.

The princesses were impressed. "But how can we sneak a turtle the size of an elephant" for that's how big it was now-"out of the castle without someone noticing?" asked the eldest, ever the practical one.

The youngest looked out her window. "Well, that's the moat down there. Couldn't we just tip the turtle out the window and let it fall into the moat?"

"You mean like a high dive?" asked the prince. The princess nodded. "No, that's too high. We're two floors up. It would be like the world's biggest turtle belly flop. And it would really hurt...hey, what is this turtle's name going to be anyway."

"Bob" the youngest pronounced definitively.

"Pfffft. Bob. He'll be embarrassed to just have name like that. Even dogs have a pedigree name that is grand sounding."

"Ok, fine. Beethoven. But I'll just call him Bob for short."

The prince looked a bit confused because "Bob" was actually a girl. But he didn't want to ruin the mood, so he just went with it, figuring that they could sort the whole gender naming and pronoun thing later.

"Anyway, I think she has a good idea, it just needs to be worked on a little." He rushed out of the room and came back with a length of fifty feet of rope. Taking one end, he fashioned a cradle with the pillow under Bob's belly and tied the other end to the door, the very same door they had use to pull the princess' tooth. Working together, they lifted Bob onto the sill of the window.

"Ok, go downstairs. I and your sister will slowly lower Bob down. Then when Bob is near the water, you cut the rope and voila, Bob escapes into the moat and we're good." explained the prince.

The youngest princess ran downstairs, heedless of the fact the scissors do not mix with running. Meanwhile, the prince and eldest princess slowly levered the turtle over the edge, letting out the rope by bits. It was a good thing no one was looking at that side of the castle that day.

At just about the time when Bob was a few feed from the bottom, there was a knock at the youngest princess' door. The prince and eldest princess looked at each other, but they couldn't answer the door without letting go of the rope. So they tried to be quiet, hoping that whoever it was would give and go away. Meanwhile the youngest began to work on the rope to let Bob go, even though he had a few feet to go, trying to get a head start on cutting through the thick ropes.

The knocking persisted and there was a muffled voice and then the same voice louder. The door handle turned and both prince and princess called out "No!" but to no avail. The door opened with a jerk, Bob dropped a few feet with a jerk into the water, the rope smacked the youngest princess on the head, she fell over onto Bob's back, the rope snapped where she had been cutting and they both tipped into the moat. People in the castle speculate that her dip in the moat permanently stunted her growth.

The Prince and the Princesses: Chapter 2

 Once upon a time there were two princesses and a prince (whose age was smack in the middle between theirs) who lived in a castle. The youngest princess lost her tooth with the help of her older siblings and, in holding with tradition, placed her tooth under her pillow.

"Maybe the tooth fairy will bring you two silver coins in exchange for your tooth." speculated her brother-the prince.

"Well phooey on that" the princess commented. "50 cents? That's pretty cheap considering all the work we did to get that tooth. I think the tooth fairy needs to up her game." 

Her sister-the eldest of the three of them, of a more serious disposition-wasn't to sure that it was a good idea to be complaining or else you might get nothing at all, but she kept her mouth shut. 

In the mean time, the youngest went to bed, her head resting on the pillow and went to sleep, dreaming of possible upgrades in the tooth payment department. Now this upgrade led to a debate among the the members of the tooth fairy union, whose job it was to dispense the rewards for lost teeth. Some wanted to give the princess what she wanted. "She is such a precious child. Should not the gift under the pillow reflect how precious she is? Why be stingy? We have the resources." Some wanted to hold the line at two coins. "Otherwise this will lead to tooth payment inflation. Today fifty cents, tomorrow fifty bucks. Besides, who does she think she is, demanding more? Losing teeth is one of the great equalizers among the classes, a common experience that binds all children together regardless of their socioeconomic status. The same two coin award for everybody are a testimony to that truth. Her parents got two coins. Her grandparents got two coins. Heck, Jesus probably got two coins and he had to spend them at the temple for his circumcision ceremony." The debate raged on through the wee hours of the morning, unbeknownst to the princess.

Finally, in the pre-dawn hours, nothing had been done and so the tooth fairy on duty was in something of a bind, because she did not want to leave the sub-pillow space empty. So she flitted around the castle, looking for something, but nothing seemed to fit. Finally, exhausted and somewhat despondent, she sat outside the gates of the castle where the road crossed the drawbridge to allow the tradespeople to enter for the day. Here arms were crossed and her head resting on them over her knees. 

In the first rays of the morning sun, she looked up and saw, resting on a small rock in the middle of the moat, a turtle climbing out to sun itself. 

She clapped her hands in delight. "Oh how perfect! Not two coins, but a small pet." She coaxed one of the turtles to the shore with the promise of a lettuce snack, put him in a box and started through the castle courtyard to the stairs which led to the royal princesses bedrooms. She didn't realize it, but the waters of the moat were a growth inhibitor. Something in the water kept the turtles from getting bigger, probably a magic spell cast long ago to prevent ecological disaster. 

She was just a wee tooth fairy and the turtle was solidly build with yellow stripes down the exposed leathery skin of its head and, unbeknownst to her, was getting bigger and bigger. The stairs were quite a trial, each one requiring a dead lift and a flip. But she persisted, glad for once for all those calisthenics that the tooth fairy academy had insisted on to give her muscles tone. Step by step, she lifted and flipped the box, huffing and puffing the whole way. At the top of the second landing, just outside the youngest princess' door, she collapsing to rest for a bit. The turtle was quite dizzy at this point and the box had acquired holes at each corner because it had been growing the whole way up, its legs with short claws sticking out.

By the time the tooth fairy had managed to get the box to the top of a step stool at the side of the princesses bed, the box was quite damaged and the turtles head was sticking out. The turtle was so big now, maybe the size of a terrier and the box was a shoe box. 

This created a new problem, because even when she positioned the turtle next to the princesses pillow and had successfully extracted the tooth from underneath and tucked it away, the turtle wouldn't fit under the pillow without putting her neck at an awkward angle. So she had to gently push the blankets and comforters and extra pillows under her, one side at a time, to lift her up to the same level as the pillow. The tooth fairy was afraid that she would disrupt the princesses sleep and waking the tooth replacement  recipient during the tooth exchange was a big no-no--seven years bad luck or something. 

However, the princess was sleeping soundly and snoring gently. After convincing the turtle to retreat into its shell, she pushed and pushed to it under the princess' head. By now, the turtle wasn't just the cute little green shelled pet that fit inside a shoe box. Now it was the size of a small sheep or a big dog, well on the way to becoming a giant sea turtle or maybe an elephant turtle. Not that the turtles was vicious (not of the snapping sort). They weren't loud (it couldn't bark or even snuffle). But it was big.  

But the tooth fairy rubbed her hands together, a job well done. "Exchange complete." And not just two coins, but a turtle--a magic growing turtle. So she left the princess' room to report her status.

The Prince and the Princesses: Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there were a prince and two princesses who lived in a castle. One time, the youngest princess-who was darling, precocious and very well spoken for her age-had a tooth that was loose. It was an upper tooth, just next to her eye tooth. In her mind this was a critical stage in her growing up because, her older royal siblings had a full complement of front teeth, having lost the most important ones which lined their smile long ago. Now it was her turn.

There was just one problem: the tooth would not come out, no matter how she tugged at it or wiggled it. Thus her smile was lopsided and, honestly, a bit pitiful and that was one thing she couldn't tolerate: looking pitiful.

Testing that tooth with her finger, the eldest princess--a cute, serious young royal with a wacky streak--concluded, "Yep. It's not coming out any time soon. Stuck there like a bad piece of bubble gum under the desk."

"Oh no!" cried the youngest, stomping her right foot. "That's it. I'm not going to be in any portraits and attend any galas then. I look weird and they are boring anyway."

The eldest princess and the prince--a handsome and clever lad--tried with no success to convince her that it wasn't such a big deal, but the young princess had a bit of a stubborn streak and when she was convinced, she was convinced. 

Sitting on the edge of the princess's bed, the prince sat deep in thought. After a while, he looked around the room, which had a high bed, dresser, mirror, a sitting area and vases filled with fresh blooms and said, "What we need is leverage."

"What?" said the eldest and the two of them had a quick head-to-head conference of whispered words.  When they were finished, the eldest grabbed the young princess's shoulders and moved her to the middle of the room. Meanwhile, the prince extracted a long piece of yarn from the knitting basket in the sitting area. Holding one end, he pulled open the ornate door that marked the entrance the youngest's bedroom, then tied the line of yarn to the door's lion's head handle and stretched it to the youngest's right ear, where, with a quick snip of scissors extracted from some vest pocket, cut it.  

The young princess looked on all of this with growing suspicion, especially when the prince told her to open her mouth wide "like a yawn" "What are you going to do?"

"Well," said the royal prince, in his best imitation of their tutor's voice, "The tooth won't come out. It is stuck in there like a green twig on a tree. We can get it out, but we need to pull harder. So we'll tie this string to your tooth and then your sister will slam the door like she does when she's really mad. Then, 'Pop!' it will pull the tooth right out of there."

"Won't it hurt?" she asked, doubtfully.

"Just for a sec. Like taking off a band-aid." said the eldest princess.

"Yeah." said the prince helpfully. "Or a bee sting!"

"You are not helping." pouted the youngest. Then, with resolve, she said "But let's do it. I want to move this tooth regrowth thing along so I am closer to my beautiful smile and less like a lop-sided goblin."

So the prince tied the yarn to the loose tooth, positioned her so that the line was tense and then nodded to the eldest, who stood next to the door. He counted "1, 2 and....3" and she slammed the door with the force of a hurricane. The line went taut and then slack as the tooth flew from her mouth, bounced off the floor, the desk, dresser, chandelier and her sister before finally coming to rest in a candy dish. The prince walked over and wiped the newly extracted tooth with a tissue and then held it aloft, "Behold, the tooth!"

It was only then that he noticed the eldest was holding her face, where a welt was growing red on her forehead. "Hey, no fair biting." she grumped.

"Ahhh, sorry." said the younger. "I'll get you an ice cream." she said, and hugged her sister. 

"Hey, what about me?" asked the prince. 

"Oh, you can have some too!"

 

The Tales of Fred and George: Chapter 5

 Chapter 5

Fred was green and long, like a rather thin piece of vine-a snake. George was wide, flat with dark green hexagons inscribed on his shell with beige borders-a turtle. From the time that they spent together, you might assume they were close friends. Yes, go on assuming that.

Today, Fred was feeling unappreciated. Even though he was a fully-grown snake, it never seemed like the other animals along the river bank noticed him as much as he liked. There were some, like Bernadette, the red racer who slithered from upriver, whom he would dearly like to impress. 

What could a snake like Fred do? Well, he could ask his friends. Or rather, his friend. Or rather, George. He could depend on George. It was George, after all, who had remembered his birthday. It was George who was always nearby and who was rarely-well, never, really-angry with him. 

He would like some more friends. Really, he would! But it never happened. They were polite, but you could not say that their relationship was warm. “Maybe they do not want to be friends because I am a snake.” wondered Fred to himself. “Yes, because I am cold-blooded! Well, that is sort of rude!. They assume that because I am a reptile that it means that I am unfriendly.”

He mused to himself, his tongue flickering thoughtfully in and out as he thought about his problem. “Why do people want to be friends anyway? George seems to have lots of friends. Bob and Chuck are always coming over to chomp on the greens and discuss-very slowly-the latest gossip. Why does he have so many friends and I have none.”

Then he had an idea. It was so simple really. “If I was famous or important, then people would want to be my friends so that, if I was famous, they would be kind of famous, too! So, how can I be famous? Well, what do famous people look like?”

He slithered down the bank, through the roots of the trees, along the rounded river stones that marked the river’s edge, to where George was sunning himself on a log. 

‘George! George! I have a question.”

George’s eyes were both shut, but when Fred asked the question one of his eyes opened and then the other.

“George, wake up! I have a question.” Fred asked, his voice so excited by his thoughts.

“Yes, Fred, what is your question?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking. What do famous people do? I mean how do other people know that they are famous?” Fred asked.

George thought about it. In fact, he thought about it for so long that Fred thought maybe he had discovered a new talent for sleeping with his eyes open. But he knew George’s habits and was willing to wait a little bit longer. Finally, George blinked and then blinked again and then turned his head to look Fred in the eye. Finally, he spoke. 

“Well, if a person is famous, he or she is in a parade.”

“A parade?” Fred asked. His brain was already full of ideas.

George stretched out one of his front legs, and then the other. “Yes, Fred. They get dressed up and they are carried through the people. The people clap their hands and cheer and they wave. That is what famous people do.”

“Excellent! Excellent!” exclaimed Fred. “We must have a parade.” And he slithered away to make his plans.

The next morning, when the leaves were changing color in the early sunlight, Fred positioned piece of wood so that it balanced on George’s back. Then he wriggled so that his head lifted the shiniest, glossiest leaf which he had made into a sort of pointy cap on his head. Then, raising his head above the ground he maneuvered himself, using only his tail, up on George’s back and then up onto the piece of wood. 

“Hup!” he shouted to George. George knew that was his signal and started to walk along the river bank.

“Hello, friends.” Fred called out to a pair of chipmunks who rested on the bark of a fir tree. They nodded their heads at him and he nodded back.

“Ho, Bob and Chuck. See how I am riding on George’s back? Isn’t it amazing!” Bob and Chuck were so surprised by the sight of a snake riding on a turtle’s back that they could not never speak and their mouth hung open.

And so they continued down the path, passing animal after animal. Some greeted Fred and it made him smile. Others ignored him and he made rude remarks about them. A few made fun of him and he pretended that he did not hear them.

But then he saw Bernadette. She was the snake with most beautiful red stripes down her sides and her eyes were like pools of infinite depth. He wanted eager to impress her, so he pulled himself even straighter and checked that the leaf was sitting on his head correctly. 

“Hello, Bernadette. How stunning you look today.”

“Why, hello yourself, Fred. I see that you convinced George to give you a ride. And what is that on your head.”

“It was George himself who told me that famous people often have parades.”

“And what is that on your head?” she asked, coming closer to inspect more carefully.

“Well, George told me that famous people often wear new things-things that other people don’t wear but later copy.”

“You really listened to George carefully. I have no doubt, my silly Fred, that everyone will remember what you did today.” she laughed. “They will talk about you and tell their children and their children’s children the story of Fred’s parade.”

It was at that moment that a fox scampered out from brush near the bend in the river. George seldom moved quickly, but he was so surprised that he jerked to the left and plunged into the cool depths of the river, carrying Fred with him. A few moments later, Fred came to the surface, spluttering, his tongue pushing drops of water away from his mouth. Fortunately, all the other animals had scattered and did not see him slither out of the shallow water on to the shore. They didn’t see his leafy hat all sideways and covering one eye.

“George! George!” he cried out. “Did you hear that? She said ‘my silly Fred’! I am so happy!” But George had swum away down the river.

The Tales of Fred and George: Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

Fred watched George suspiciously. Underneath that calm brown and dark green turtle shell, he was sure that he saw a glint of pernicious intelligence. Then it was hidden again under the slow, deliberate speech and careful movements. George’s body was still, his eyes were closed and his neck, tail and legs were stretched out as far outside his shell as they could stretch. The delicious feeling of the warm morning sun on their night-chilled bodies was one thing Fred and George could agree on.

Slithering his striped green body across the shale, he took an inspection tour around George’s still form. His forked tongue tested the smell of the air. Nothing.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.” the long sound of contentment from George was so low, that another person might thing it was a snore. Fred shook his head in annoyance.

“Come on, George, wake up! Time to move!” Fred insisted.

George did not move.

“There are things to do! Don’t you want to see your friends Bob and Chuck?”

A slight tremor. Slowly, George’s left rear leg began to slide in towards his shell. Then the right. Then the front legs bent in and George’s shell lifted off the ground.

“That’s it!” Fred encouraged him. “Bob and Chuck are heading towards the lettuce patch. They might get there before you. Early turtle gets the treat.”

George’s head slowly, ponderously swiveled until his eyes could clearly see Fred’s long body and his head raised slightly off the ground. 

“What...did you...say, Fred?” George asked.

“Oh my goodness!” Fred almost slapped his forehead with his tail in frustration. “How can you be so calm? Every minute you waste here means a mouthful of missed munched lettuce!”

Eventually Fred was able to cajole George into motion along the narrow dirt path that lined the river bank. Racing on ahead, Fred monitored the progress of the two other turtles, Bob and Chuck and then raced back to report to George.

“They are only a few yards from the lettuce! You must hurry.” Fred matched George’s ponderous pace down the path, ever encouraging him to greater speed. But little changed and finally, after a status check, Fred decided that desperate measures were required.

In the seconds between the movement of George’s front leg and the time when his rear leg moved forward, Fred slithered under George’s shell, braced himself against the rocks that lined the path and lifted UP.

“Oofff!” Fred exclaimed. 

“Whaa?” George wondered as he noticed two legs wiggling off the ground.

Fred pushed, bit by bit, until George’s body was a right angles with the ground. With one final heave, George tipped over onto his back with such force that he continued to roll over and over, down the river bank into the water. George quickly righted himself, his head poking above the water and with precise paddling, aimed himself downstream. 

“Yes, yes! That’s right, George. They are just at the patch now. If you hurry, there will be some left for you.”

Minutes later, George heaved his shiny body out of the water onto the muddy shore. Nearby, two other turtles of similar size and coloration paused their lettuce munching and raised their heads in greeting. 

“Morning, George.”

“Morning, Bob. Morning, Chuck.”

Fred moved over to where the two were sitting in order to estimate the remaining size of patch. Using his long, flexible body, he lay down in such a fashion as to mark off approximately one-third of the lettuce.

“Ummph.” (Fred’s mouth was full of the green grass and other plants) “Ah..George, I’ve marked off your fair portion. Hurry. They might step on me and I would be squooshed. But I’ll do it, for you, George.” He paused. There was no response. “George?” Still no response. “George?”

Exasperated, he finally lifted his head up until he could see over the greenery that lined the river shore. Nothing. He could not see George. Finally, he gathered himself and with a glare that he hoped would warn off the other two turtles, he lifted his head higher. “George!”

There was George, less than ten feet away. He wasn’t moving.

“George!” Fred was alarmed and rushed over to his friend. “George! Are you all right? I had to leave the lettuce, but I think they won’t eat it until you get there.”

Then he heard it: “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.” George was snoring in a patch of sunlight.

“Arrgh!” Fred rolled his eyes to the sky. “George, George. You’ll never get anywhere in this world.”

The Tales of Fred and George: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was a few days later that Fred, sitting up on a low tree plum tree branch from an old ranch, noticed that George was unusually agitated, especially for a mature turtle. George’s head was swinging from the left to the right. HIs tail was coming out of his shell and then pulling back in. 

Fred slithered down the gentle slope of the trunk and over to where George sat in the shallow water. 

“George, my friend, what is the matter?” Fred asked, genuinely curious about the green-and-brown patterned turtle’s behavior.

George did not respond immediately, but this did not surprise Fred since he was used to his friends nearly glacial reaction time. 

Finally he spoke, “Today is my friend’s birthday.” 

“Well that is great.” said Fred cautiously. “You are always good at remembering the important days for all of your friends. Birthdays. School holidays. Why, I remember when Bob was starting fishing school and you were the one who walked with him the ten yards upstream to the Old Pool.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” repeated George. “But today I did not wish my friend ‘Happy birthday!’ I am sure he will be upset if no one remembers.”

“Well, George, who is it?” Fred asked, genuinely curious. “I am sure that you have time on this bright, sunny day to find him or her if you start now..”

George turned his head slowly and smoothly until both eyes were focused on Fred. “Oh, Fred, can you go with me.” 

Fred hesitated. 

“Please, Fred.”

How could he refuse? “Of course, George.” he responded after a few moments. “Umm, which way should we go?”

George swiveled ponderously to the right, upstream. Then he turned just as slowly downstream. Fred’s tongue flickered in and out of his mouth impatiently.

“Downstream.” George ventured. “Yes, downstream. I am sure.”

So they began their slow, mismatched journey down the river path. Sometimes, George would enter into the water and swim and then come back out. He seemed almost graceful there. Other times, Fred would slip ahead, peering around each corner and climbing up every twig and low branch.

Finally, they came over a small rise at the center of a small chunk of land that stuck out into the river, forcing it to divert its course along a much longer path. Down in a clearing below them, Fred could see a few of the other river animals gathered under a low-rising willow whose roots were evenly divided between the river and its bank. As they drew closer, Fred could see the two other turtles, Bob and Chuck, as well as Bernadette and Chloe, who were other neighborhood snakes. There was even a family of river otters that had moved into the neighborhood for the season. And, of course, Oscar, the white egret was wading in the shallows.

“Well, here we are, George.” announced Fred as he and George finally arrived in the clearing, among the other animals. “Now you can wish your friend a happy birthday. Which friend is it?”

George, never one to rush things, stopped and looked at each of the gathered animals carefully, as if checking their identity. Finally, his gaze came to rest on Fred.

Fred was worried and he darted to and fro among the others gathered there. “What is it, George? Is your friend not here?”

George shook his head gently and then spoke with a strong voice and a measured pace. “Fred, let me the first to greet you. Happy birthday, my true friend!”

“WHAT!!!!” Fred shouted in surprise.

“I have been waiting for this day. I did not forget. It is your birthday.” George said.

Fred laughed in delight. “I forgot completely. But of course you did not, because you are George.” He shook his head, and if snakes could have years, he would have shed a few in the joy of that moment. “Yes, it is my birthday. Thank you!” At that moment he felt a little embarrassed because he had not always been a good friend to George. 

“I did not forget.” George affirmed with a nod. At that, the other animals shouted a chorus of happy birthdays and each came forward to congratulate Fred.

“I did not forget, my friend.”

The Tales of Fred and George: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fred was a snake, green and long who traveled like a moving letter ‘S’ George was a turtle, covered in a beautiful protective shell. George was slow of movement and thought, while Fred was clever but not wise. 

So it was that a raven traveled through their forest, collecting bits of twig and twine and bangles and jangles trailing and secreting them away in places only he knew. He was a collector, and often he would trade what he had for the new, exciting and different. Sometimes, he offered bright coins for what he had not. George chewed his precious grass, and meandered among the wide spaces between the forest trees. Every so often he would lift his head at the sound of the raven wings, and gaze at the black bird’s flight above even the tallest tree.

Fred’s eyes were captured by the bright coins. He had food, yes. His hollow, where he curled up at night was safe. But the coins drew him. He observed how the raven would offer them for what he did not have. It made Fred feel that there must also be something he did not have. Perhaps, if he had a coin, an entire world of glittery shiny somethings would be available to him. But only if he could just have coins to trade for them.

So one sunny day, full of the smells of spring and the sun which called the flowers to grow, he decided to bring up the topic of coins with the raven.

“Mr. Raven, sir, how do you do?” Fred offered, cautiously. 

“Quite well, sir. The light glistens on the tips of the grasses and sparkles on the creek’s current. It makes me feel sure that the world is full of treasures to find.” The raven shifted its wings and turned its glossy black eye on Fred. “Don’t you find this to be true?”

Fred didn’t know how to respond exactly, so he plunged on, “I see that you have quite the collection of shiny bits and bangles. It seems to be a hobby of yours.”

“Yes...yes, it is. I bring them out, shine them up, admire how light reflects on them, and then tuck them away.”

Fred continued, “But there is one type that is different. Most seem so admired. But this other type--well, you dispense with them so freely, even though, to my untrained eye, they are just as golden and shiny as the rest.”

Raven favored his other foot and seemed to inspect his wing. “Ah, you have seen the coins. My friend, these are the tokens of my esteem, for I only trade them with other--shall we call them collectors?--who have found the exceedingly rare item.”

Fred’s red tongue flickered in and out for several seconds, as he thought, because he really wanted the coins but did not know what would be valuable enough to earn the Raven’s coin. Finally, he ventured, “Have you seen anything here, in this corner of our woods, that is sufficiently rare to attract your attention? I could help you, for I know this land well, and perhaps we could arrange a deal.”

If ravens could smile, this would have been the time. Instead, he took his time and swiveled his majestic black head so that his eyes could take in all around him, as if looking for such an item. But in truth, he already knew what wanted. So it was that his gaze fell upon the slow moving form of George, basking in the warmth of the sun on a rock near the edge of the creek. 

“Ah, yes. I have heard that the inner side of the shell of a turtle, if properly polished, shines in a rainbow of colors. But I have not been able to add such a shell to my collection, for the dear turtles seem decidedly attached to them, if you take my meaning. Why, such a shell would be worth more than a single coin--maybe as much as two or, I dare say, even three.” With his beak, Mr. Raven extracted such a coin from the depths of his features and the sight of it filled Fred’s visions. It took a few moments for him to recover.

Now Fred had never been able to determine why George needed his shell. Certainly many other animals seemed to get along just fine without the shell. And it seemed to him that much of George’s frustrating slowness of movement was due to his having to carry such a cumbersome item on his back all the time. So it seemed to Fred that he would be doing George a service by separating him from the shell. Oh, and he would get the raven’s coin too! 

Slithering over to where George basked, he went straight to the point, “George, would you like to fly?”

“Fly?” George answered slowly, his head coming up so that his eyes could see the fine form of Fred fidgeting on the short. “Fly?” he repeated.

“Yes, George, fly. Have you never wanted to soar through the air? LIke a bird?”

After what seemed forever, George’s face lit up with wide eyes, “Yes, Fred. I want to fly!”

“Good, good. You just leave everything to me. Do what I say and you will be the world’s first flying turtle!”

It took the rest of that day for Fred to convince the beaver at the pond (for the price of one fish) to lend him a sturdy branch and position it on rock at a angle. Then he went in search of George.

“George!”

George was downstream a bit, just exiting from the gentle current of a wide place in the creek. He lifted his head slowly, looking around in an arc. “Fred?”

“George, would you like to fly?”

“Oh, yes, Fred. I would love to fly. Up in the sky!”

“Come with me. I can help you fly. The beaver helped me set something up for you.”

So George trundled after Fred, upstream to where one end of the log rested against the ground. 

“You just climb up here on the log. Then, you should give me a few minutes, but you will certainly fly.”

George climbed slowly up the log. He was no stranger to logs, since turtles often rest on sunny branches and logs in the creek when they want a bit of warmth. Soon he was ready, and called out Fred’s name.

In the meantime, Fred had climbed up to the other end of the log. “Ok, George, here we go!” And he looped his tale around the log and dropped. But he had badly underestimated the amount of weight it would need to make his impromptu teeter-totter to work. Eventually he convinced the beaver to return and slap his tail against the log and George was flung into the air.

As the beaver slapped the log, the one end of the log jerked down and the other end, where George sat shot into the air, pushing George himself up in a wonderful arc. “WHEEEEEEE!” he shouted in pure joy. 

Fred slithered after him, hoping that the impact would jar loose George’s shell from his back. But when he got to the place where George should have come down, a rocky beach along the creek bed, nothing happened. Fred scanned the sky, dumbfounded.

But there was Mr. Raven, cawing in laughter. In his claws was George. “Foolish little snake. Why give you coin when I can take this turtle for myself.”

“No! George! No.” George himself was unaware of what was being said, he was still so enchanted with flying. “I CAN SEE FOREVER!”

“Mr. Raven, you are a cheat. You take what is not yours.” But Mr. Raven ignored him and continued to circle Fred and taunt him, sometimes dipping down to come almost within his reach and other times climbing up near the tips of the pepperwood trees.

Fred scrambled back up the shore to where the log rested. Promising yet another fish, Mr. Beaver maneuvered the log back in position and Fred put a rock on the other end. At just the right time he shouted “Now!” and Mr. Beaver slapped his broad flat tail against the log, shooting the rock into the air. Mr. Raven squawked in surprise as the rock tagged him from behind, and he let George fall.

“I’M FLOATING!” George shouted (as loud as turtles can shout, which is really not very loud), “I’M SO HAPPY…..glub.” That last sound was what he said as he hit the water. But a few minutes later he popped his head above water and made his way to shore.

Later, as he sat munching grass and meticulously tucking each leg within his shell, he turned to Fred, “Fred?”

“Yes, George.”

“Thank you for the best day ever.”

The Tales of Fred and George: Chapter 1

 Based on stories that I told my kids

Chapter 1

In the forest lived two of the strangest friends you ever would meet. Fred was a snake, long and green and shaped like the letter ‘S’ with two dark eyes and a tongue that flickered out of his mouth. George was a turtle with a rough shell and a slow, careful walk. On some days, you would have a good reason to doubt that this snake and this turtle were friends, and you would be right.

One day, on the path that went through the trees of their forest, Fred heard people say that you could sell a turtle shell for money. He didn’t know about money, and he wasn’t sure what he needed it for, but these people seemed very impressed by it. 

“George doesn’t really need that shell.” he told himself. “He lives a very safe life. Everyone is his friend and he doesn’t walk fast enough to hurt himself, even if he trips and falls! Much better to let me have it. I think he will grow another. And I...I will give him some of this money they talk about it. A win-win situation.” So Fred created a plan.

George was munching his food near the base of a low oak tree when Fred found him.

“George.” Fred announced.

“Yes….Fred.” George answered deliberately, one syllable per chew.

“Today, you should climb this oak tree with me.” Fred spoke quickly, words tumbling out. “The view is better up there, and you can see all of the other trees and the pond and the stream. It is so beautiful.”

George considered that for several moments. “I don’t know….I’m not a climber.”

“You are a champion climber. This oak has low spreading branches. See how the trunk has fallen over, almost like a tree highway. Just right for a turtle like you. See?” Fred slithered up and down the branches to demonstrate how easy it was. “Just follow me. We will go slowly. And it is so beautiful at the top. And, oh, there are some special plants I just know that you will enjoy up there, on one of the branches. I saw them there myself just a while ago.”

George looked up skeptically, but he did want to see the pond and eat the special plants, so he cautiously put up one leg on the base of the tree and then another. Fred became excited and raced up the trunk, taking branch after branch until he rested on mere twigs. On those twigs he had placed luscious grasses and George’s favorite delicacies. When George got out that far, his weight would cause the twigs to break, he would fall to the ground and pop! His shell would come off. “No, he won’t really be hurt. That’s what the shells are for, right? To protect him from falls like that.”

So George followed Fred, turn after turn, fork after fork. “There it is!” Fred shouted excitedly, his tongue aiming at the pile of grasses. And truly, George could see it, and he could smell it, and he was growing tired with all of the exercise. His legs required careful placement to maintain his footing. Now he was as excited as a turtle could be. “Yum!” But just as he got near to the grasses, on the last twig, suddenly he lost his grip and his footing gave away, two legs on each side. Scarily, he was balanced on a branch, barely able to move for fear of falling to the ground. But that branch was sturdy, so George was stuck, but stable on that branch. “He needs to move just a few more inches, on to that twig and then it will surely break.” Fred thought to himself.

Then he tried to push, but all he did was scrape his scaly body on the rough bark of the oak tree. Then he crawled onto George’s back, and tried jumping up and down, trying to dislodge him or cause him to lose his balance. Oh, how George wobbled, and rocked until his stomach felt funny. Finally Fred crawled over George, on to the twig where the grasses rested and gripped George’s head with his tale. Then he pulled and pulled until CRACK, the twig cracked and Fred wailed “Help!” as he fell down, down down to the ground. The grasses floated down and landed on his head.

The second CRACK caused Fred to look up, only in time to see George waving his legs wildly as he too fell, but it wasn’t too bad because he landed on all that grass and on Fred. Fred had a headache, but George munched happily. “Thank you for the grass. It’s yummy!”