Yes, Virginia, there are Thanksgiving songs!

Article copyright by Bob Rogers.

The season of Christmas is so celebrated in America today, that the holiday suffocates Thanksgiving! People replace their orange pumpkins with holly of red and green, earlier and earlier in November. When I suggested to a friend he might wait until after Thanksgiving to play Christmas songs, his reply was, “There aren’t any Thanksgiving songs, so I’m playing Christmas songs!” Here’s my reply: Yes, Virginia, there ARE Thanksgiving songs! (I can’t remember his name, so I’ll call him Virginia, with apologies to the famous 1897 editorial of The (New York) Sun, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.”) Here are some Thanksgiving songs that are so awesome, they are worth downloading on Amazon Music, Spotify, watching on YouTube, or however you do it:

  1. “Thank You” by Chris Tomlin with Thomas Rhett and Florida Georgia Line is a fast-paced country song of reasons to thank the Lord.
  2. “The Thanksgiving Song” by Ben Rector is a joyful pop song listing specific things we do on Thanksgiving.
  3. “At This Table” by Idina Menzel is an soaring, inspirational pop song that invites everybody to gather together at the same table of love.
  4. “Thankful” by Josh Groban features a rich, melodic pop tune, with inspiring lyrics calling us to look beyond ourselves and be grateful.
  5. “What I’m Thankful For” by Garth Brooks and James Taylor is a country song of gratitude for faith and family.
  6. “My Heart Is Filled With Thankfulness” by Keith & Kristyn Getty has a beautiful Irish melody, a modern hymn, set to deep Christian theology of gratitude. I encourage you to watch this one on YouTube.
  7. “Thankful” by Kelly Clarkson is a sassy-styled pop love song of gratitude.
  8. “Thank You” by Keith Urban is an emotional pop song that reflects on how his wife rescued him from despair.
  9. “I Thank You” by Sam & Dave is a classic R & B love song.
  10. “Thankful N’ Thoughtful” by Sly and the Family Stone is a soul song that will have you dancing with gratitude.

Four 19th century biographies of Southern slavery

Recently, I’ve read four 19th century biographies and autobiographies of men and women who escaped slavery in the South. If you want to read about what slavery was really like in that time, these classic books will let you hear the stories in the words of those who experienced it.

Sarah Hopkins Bradford, Harriet, the Moses of Her People.

This biography, written by a white friend of Harriet Tubman gives a firsthand account of the amazing life of an amazing woman who bravely made so many trips to the South to rescue over 300 of her people along the “Underground Railroad.” The author is somewhat patronizing toward African-Americans, yet beautifully portrays the unwavering Christian faith that sustained Harriet through it all, and the events surrounding her that some call “supernatural.” Her story has recently been made into the film, Harriet.

Solomon Northrup, 12 Years a Slave.

The most dramatic story I have read of someone escaping slavery is that of Solomon Northrup, a free black man who was kidnapped in New York, and sold into slavery in Louisiana, where he suffered until his dramatic rescue. Northrup himself vividly describes his experiences, which shows the cruelty of slavery in the Deep South. The events surrounding his rescue will have you on the edge of your seat. No wonder this was made into an Academy Award Winning film!

Harriet Ann Jacobs, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl Written by Herself.

This account of a female former slave, using the name Linda Brent, shares graphic details of brutality and especially sexual abuse by white owners. There is a constant tension between Linda and her owner, Dr. Flint, whose affections she continually rejects. Although a true story published at the outbreak of the Civil War, it reads like a novel, and I read it quickly. It gives so many insights into slave life in the South, and even discrimination against blacks in the North.

Josiah Henson, The Life of Josiah Henson, Formerly a Slave.

This true story was the basis for Uncle Tom’s Cabin. I downloaded it and read it in one day. Henson was an industrious man with great leadership and organizational skills. The storyline moves quickly and is so emotional, that it overcomes the 19th century formal writing style. I highly recommend this short read to get a feel for the heartless institution of slavery in the South.

A Prayer for President-elect Joe Biden

Copyright by Bob Rogers.

Heavenly Father, our hope is in You, not our earthly leaders. But the Bible tells us that you place people in power and remove them from power, and that we are to pray for all those in authority, that we may live peaceful lives.

I pray that You will give President-elect Biden the wisdom of Solomon and courage of David as he seeks to lead our country. May he listen to You, not the voices of those who may seek to control him, and may he seek Your will, for the good of our nation.

Lord, he has promised equality for all and to root out racism; may he do just that. As he seeks justice and protection for the oppressed, may he remember the most vulnerable of all, the unborn. As he said that we are not just to keep the faith, but to “spread the faith,” may he respect and protect those of us who actively keep and spread our faith.

Help us, Father, to unite and heal as a nation; heal us both of the COVID contagion and the contagion of angry words. May we listen to one another and listen most of all to You. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.

The memories behind the painting: growing up in the 1940s in rural Mississippi

(My mother, Joyce Clinton Rogers, was born on July 1, 1935. If you who follow her paintings on Instagram @mymothersart or on Facebook, you know that she is still actively painting, but the most treasured of all her paintings is the one of her grandfather in front of his home in Epley, Mississippi. Below she shares her personal memories of her grandparents, and what life was like growing up in the 1940s in rural Missississippi. It will help you understand why this painting is so special.)

by Joyce Clinton Rogers

When I was a little girl in the 1940s, my parents took me to spend a week in the summer with my Clinton grandparents who lived on a farm in Epley, Mississippi (located between Sumrall and Hattiesburg). I may have gone several summers– I’m not sure. I may have forgotten.

There wasn’t much a young girl could do but explore, so I did. A short walk away past the cemetery was a small bridge over a creek. It was fun to swing my feet into the cool creek water and see what critters were in the water.

My granddaddy was a farmer and a well-digger. Our whole family, my three sisters and three brothers, loved to play around the well. We had running water and electricity and a real bathroom at the teacher’s home at Oak Grove where we lived– but not my grandparents. My grandparents had an outdoor toilet and a Sears & Roebuck Catalogue for toilet paper. (I’m not kidding!) They had a tub used for washing clothes, vegetables, and for getting a bath, and goodness knows what else.

The story is told that granddaddy got baths by waiting ’til dark, stripping and pouring buckets of well water over his head, then drying off naturally by swinging in the swing on the front porch. One night, my Aunt Carol was entertaining a boyfriend on the front porch, and granddaddy’s arrival caused quite a stir!

I remember the house well. Our family visited every Sunday afternoon for years. I did a painting of the ole house, which hangs in back of my favorite chair where we live now. The farmhouse had no electricity and was heated by fireplaces and the kitchen by a stove. The stove had a door that opened and you put firewood inside. There were two fireplaces, one in each bedroom on each side of the house. When we went to visit in the wintertime, we sat on the edge of one of the two beds in the rooms to the right. If others came in, we just slid over. Grandma sat in her chair on the left of the fireplace, and granddaddy sat on the right.

On holidays, occasionally we might eat at the farmhouse. If that was the case, we came early so mama could help with the cooking. And oh, what a great feast we would have! We’d have fried chicken, lots of vegetables from their garden both fresh and “canned” (stored in jars), biscuits and cornbread, casseroles and desserts. As the oldest granddaughter, I got some jobs. Grandma made buttermilk and butter by placing milk in a jar, and I shook the jar until buttermilk and butter formed and separated from the other milk. My arms would get so tired!

I remember well hearing granddaddy say the blessing. He was loud! After he finished, he said, “Now you see what’s here…” I can’t remember what else he said (to finish that phrase). If any family remember, I wish you’d tell me how he finished that statement.

Speaking of being loud and praying, I had an interesting experience on one of my summer visits. I was on the swing on the front porch while granddaddy’s young pastor visited with him. I heard granddaddy praying loudly. I realized that the pastor didn’t come to pray for granddaddy, but for granddaddy to pray for him. Or maybe both ways.

Grandma always wore a long simple dress down to her ankles, an apron and her hair in a bun on top of her head. On Sunday, she wore a white apron. Granddaddy wore overalls and clean ones on Sunday.

Grandma swept the yard with a broom. She didn’t want grass growing in her yard. There was a rooster in the back yard who chased me. I was deathly afraid of him.

There was a long back porch where vegetables might be stacked or the washtub might be the bathing place for the more genteel. On the end of the porch near the kitchen was a shelf where a bucket of water with a dipper and a washpan stood. This is where you got a drink of water and/or washed your hands. Yes, we all drank from the same dipper.

Granddaddy never owned a car. He used his plowhorse, Dolly, to pull the family wagon to go to Sumrall for supplies and to church on Sunday. You can see him with Dolly in my painting.

Painting of the Clinton “Ole Place” by Joyce Clinton Rogers

Known in the community as “Uncle Charlie” and “Aunt Marthy,” this is how things were in rural Epley in the 1940s, 1950s and into the 1960s. Both are buried in the little Clinton Family Cemetery with their parents, their grandparents and some of their nine children and grandchildren, including one of my brothers, Donald Clinton. Also buried there are my parents, Rankin Anderson Clinton, Sr. and Lucy Rutledge Clinton, and Gwen Clinton, the first wife of my brother Sam.

Charles and Martha Clinton

How big is your Jesus?

Article copyright by Bob Rogers.

A lady told me that her granddaughter visited her church and saw the large stained glass window picture of Jesus. She said, “Granny, your church has a BIG Jesus!”

What a great statement! Does your church have a “big Jesus”? Are the sermons Christ-centered? Does your worship lift up His Name? Do the leaders prayerfully ask, “What would Jesus do?” before they do what they do?

Christian, what about your personal faith? Do you have a big Jesus? He’s not a little bitty idol that you put on the shelf and take out when you need a little favor. He’s not mini-god for minor problems. He is the Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, Good Shepherd, Great Physician, the Alpha and the Omega.

The apostle Paul prayed that the church at Ephesus would have a big Jesus. Here is how he put it:

I also pray that you will understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for us who believe him. This is the same mighty power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him in the place of honor at God’s right hand in the heavenly realms. Now he is far above any ruler or authority or power or leader or anything else—not only in this world but also in the world to come. God has put all things under the authority of Christ and has made him head over all things for the benefit of the church. And the church is his body; it is made full and complete by Christ, who fills all things everywhere with himself. – Ephesians 1:19-23, NLT

Now that is a big Jesus! He is available to every church and every believer. How big is your Jesus?

I’m not that Bob Rogers

It’s near the end of September 2020, so I was just checking the monthly statistics on my blog, when I noticed a huge jump in the number of visitors on September 28. What’s going on? I wondered.

I noticed that most of the visitors were coming from Search Engines, so I wondered why people were searching for Bob Rogers. I knew that there is a Pentecostal preacher, Dr. Bob Rodgers, who is pastor of the 9,000-member Evangel World Prayer Center in Louisville, Kentucky. When I was a pastor in Georgia, our office sometimes got calls asking if I was he, and our secretary had to disappoint them: “He’s not that Bob Rodgers” (My family didn’t have enough money to put a “D” in Rogers.) There is also a prominent Assembly of God pastor in Texas named Bob Rogers.

In addition to the above, according to Wikipedia:

Bob Rogers may refer to:

And of course, I’m none of those people. But the answer was in that list above.

But this time, I noticed most of the visitors to my blog were coming from Australia! With a little searching myself, I soon learned that a radio disc jockey in Sydney, Australia, named Bob Rogers, announced his retirement after 78 years on the air. I mean, this dude toured with the Beatles, and was still on the radio! But at age 93, he said, “I think it’s time we gave the young fellows a bit of a go.”

I’m not that Bob Rogers, either, but I’m glad a learned about my namesake. He’s a pretty cool guy; and he spells Rogers correctly, too.

In case you came to this blog looking for the Aussie disc jockey Bob Rogers, you can read more about him here.

Putting our troubles into perspective- my story

Photo by Simon Migaj on Pexels.com

Copyright by Bob Rogers.

Sometimes it helps to put our troubles into perspective. Let me share a memory from many years ago. As a young pastor just beginning a family, I served several churches as pastor on a small salary. My wife Mary and I had some financial struggles, but we were happy, getting by living in a mobile home nicely furnished at one church, and later a larger pastorium, although we sometimes didn’t have the money to refill the butane heater. Our first child, Melissa, was born. Money was tight, but God provided. Eventually, I decided God was calling me to return to New Orleans Baptist Seminary and work on a doctoral degree.

Those days in seminary working on my doctorate were especially difficult times financially. I gave up my church position as pastor to dedicate myself to study, and I took a job on campus working for the grounds crew three days a week, so I could be in class and study the other days. I also worked as a grader for the professor, but that paid very little. My income was even less than when I worked for a church, even with Mary working. We stretched the money every way that we could.

One December day during this time, I got a call from the church there in New Orleans where we were members. They wanted me to pick up a Christmas gift for a needy seminary student family. I was so excited, because I thought that must be for my family. I arrived at the church, and they gave me the name and address of a student family in my apartment building. My heart dropped, but I dutifully took the gifts of food, gift cards and other presents, and went to the door of the family and knocked. When they opened the door, I was shocked– the family had an apartment full of kids, and had almost no possessions inside. They were so much worse off than me and Mary and Melissa. It put things in perspective, and I rarely felt sorry for myself again. I was thankful for what I had.

We all have a choice, to look down at our problems, or look up at our God, the Lord who provides (Genesis 22:14). As the apostle Paul wrote, “Set your minds on things above, not earthly things” (Colossians 3:1). A poet put it this way: “Two men looked out prison bars/ One saw mud, one saw stars.” It all depends on your perpsective, so let’s look up and be thankful for what we have.

Tadej Pogacar’s words speak as loud as his actions

Tadej Pogacar (right) leads Primoz Roglic (left) in the Tour de France

Article copyright 2020 by Bob Rogers.

Tadej Pogacar is a young man whose name may be hard to pronounce*, but his is a name worth knowing– not only for what he did, but also for what he said.

Cycling fans were astounded in September 2020 as the young Pogacar won the three-week, 2,164-mile Tour de France by surpassing the leader on the last day of racing. Personally, I was amazed by what he said after he won.

In the first week of the race, the 21-year-old made mistakes and fell behind, but slowly he began to close the gap. Going into the last day, he was in second place overall (out of about 150 riders), but still 57 seconds behind fellow Slovenian Primoz Roglic of Team Jumbo-Visma. That seemed too big of a gap to close in just one day, as the best riders often can ride 100 miles with only a few seconds between their finish times. Roglic had a great team of fellow cyclists helping him along the way, leading him on mountain climbs, etc. Cyclists compete on teams that work together, because following the wheel of another cyclist is about 25% easier than riding alone against the wind. A pro cycling team also includes radio operators telling riders what is happening, and a support system of cars riding along the race, carrying spare bicycles, food to hand to riders, mechanics to fix problems, etc. In contrast to Roglic’s team, Pogacar of UAE Team was unable to get help from fellow riders on his team, as they were dropping out or falling behind him.

Despite overwhelming odds, on the final day of racing, Pogacar finished 1 minute, 56 seconds ahead of Roglic, more than enough to make up for his 57-second deficit! This allowed Pogacar to wear the famed yellow victor’s jersey for the final processional into Paris.

To put his victory in perspective, here is a bullet list of how amazing this win was:

*He won it by coming from way behind, on the last day, which only happened once before.

*He was the youngest winner since 1904.

*He was the first winner from his country, Slovenia.

*He’s a rookie—it was his first time in the Tour de France.

*He won three of the four main prizes. Only one other cyclist to win three of the four competitions in the Tour de France was the great Eddie Merckx in 1969. Pogacar won the yellow jersey for overall winner, polka dot jersey for best rider in the mountains, and white jersey for the best young rider. (Appropriately, an Irishman named Sam Bennett won the green jersey for most points.)

Tadej Pogcar had every reason to be proud, but instead he was humble. Take a minute to read this transcript of his interview after the race, courtesy of NBC Sports:

Interviewer: Now you know it’s not a dream. You have won the Tour de France!

Pogacar: Yeah, I don’t know what to say—I’m really proud of the team. They gave such a big effort, just a dream, we achieved it, and it’s just amazing.

Interviewer: But Tadej, it was you! You were on the bike, and you were amazing! Did you have the time gap? Could you believe it?

Pogacar: No, it was not just me, it was all the team, because I knew every corner, I knew every pothole on the road, I knew where to accelerate, because it was the road that you need to know, and it was all the team—congrats to all my team, especially to my radio operators and my mechanics. Today, I just pushed finally in the end, and yeah, I made it.

Interviewer: You had 57 seconds of a deficit on Primoz. Did you believe it? You clearly believed you could beat him, no?

Pogacar: No, I was listening to my radio just on the flat parts but then on the climb I didn’t hear any from the radio because the fans were so loud, so I didn’t hear anything—no time gaps, nothing. I just went deep. I knew the climb very well, so I just went full gas from the bottom to the top.

Interviewer: Is this a childhood dream?

Pogacar: Actually, my dream was just to be in the Tour de France. And now the dream is—[pause] I’m here and I won, this is unbelievable.

It was unbelievable for his victory, and inspiring for his humble spirit. In this year of anger, anguish and arrogance, such people are badly needed.

(*Tadej Pogcar is pronounced TAH-day Poe-GOTCHA)

David was the “comeback kid”

Article copyright by Bob Rogers.

In the Hebrew scriptures, Abraham may have been the father of faith, and Moses the giver of the law, but David was the “comeback kid.” Look at all the times David made a comeback:

David overcame his size (1 Samuel 16). He was the youngest son of Jesse, yet the prophet Samuel chose to anoint him as the next king.

David overcame his giant (1 Samuel 17). He faced down the giant Goliath when others fled, and won!

David overcame his defeat (1 Samuel 30). When the Amalekites raided his camp and kidnapped his wives, David’s men were ready to kill him. But David found strength in the Lord, and led his men to victory, recovering his family and all that had been taken from them.

David overcame his sin (1 Samuel 11-12). He abused his power to exploit the beautiful Bathsheba, then ordered her husband put on the front lines to die. Yet when confronted by the prophet Nathan for his adultery and murder, David confessed his sin, repented, and experienced the grace of God’s forgiveness.

David overcame his sorrow (1 Samuel 12). Despite his repentance, David suffered the consequences of his sin in the death of his infant child. Yet when he realized the child had died, David rose from his grief and worshiped his God.

David overcame a rebellion (1 Samuel 15-17). His own son Absalom led a revolt against the king, but David was able to win the battle and retake his throne.

David overcame his pride (1 Samuel 24). Proud of his mighty army, he took a census of his troops. This brought on the judgment of God, but again David humbled himself and was forgiven.

Are you despairing, distressed, defiled and defeated? Like David, find your strength in God. His grace can give you a comeback, too!

John 10:10 as displayed in classic films

Copyright by Bob Rogers.

What do classic films about a dying boxer, an Italian Jew and his son in a concentration camp, and a composer insanely jealous of Mozart have to do with John 10:10-11? 

John 10:10 says that the thief comes to “steal, kill and destroy.”

In the 1984 movie Amadeus, about Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the composer Salieri is insanely jealous of Mozart’s God-given talent, and will do anything to take it away.

In the 1997 Italian movie Life Is Beautiful, the Nazis take an Italian Jewish man and his son to a concentration camp to kill him.

In the 2004 movie Million Dollar Baby, a female boxer has a permanent injury and asks her trainer to pull the plug on her and destroy her life.

All of these are the attitude of the thief, old “red legs,” as Frank Pollard called him– the devil. The thief promises you a better life through legalism or drugs or alcohol or gambling or sex, or promises your life will escape problems through abortion, euthanasia or suicide. But these are all false hopes.

Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life and have it in abundance.” How is He able to give this life? As He says in John 10:11, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” I’m not saying this to recommend two hour, two-dimensional movies to you (although Life Is Beautiful is a wonderful film), but I do recommend Jesus Christ, who will give you a multi-dimensional, abundant life on earth and eternal life in heaven.

Tearing down statues– where does it end?

Protesters in San Francisco have pulled down a bust of Ulysses Grant, the former U.S. president and Union general who defeated the Confederates, because Grant married into a slave-owning family. They also pulled down other statues, including that of Francis Scott Key (pictured above), who wrote the U.S. national anthem, “The Star Spangled Banner,” since Key owned slaves.

I readily agree that slavery was and is reprehensible, and the Confederates were traitors to the Union. I also agree that statues of many such historical people need to be removed to museums, not glorified front and center in our parks and courthouses. But where does this sort of thing end? What person, past or present, is without character flaws?

I wonder if these same protesters would be willing to tear down a statue of Charles Darwin, since he was a racist who said Africans were less evolved than white people? I wonder if these same protesters would be willing to deface a statue of John F. Kennedy, since he was reportedly an adulterer?

Interestingly, some of those people of the past, if they were here today, would likely be shocked by the immoral practices of some of these modern protesters, some who may cohabitate outside of marriage or may have killed babies through abortion– but at least they didn’t own slaves, so they judge themselves righteous. How blind these self-righteous anarchists are, seeing the sins of the past but ignoring the sins of the present.

These modern moralists do not see how similar their vandalism is to ISIS fighters who tore down ancient statues in the Middle East because they were “pagan.” These revolutionaries do not see how their onrush to destroy any and every injustice in the name of the people is similar to another revolution– the French revolution, a time when the revolutionaries were soon devouring each other for not being radical enough. Today’s radicals could read about it in their history books, but it seems they have torn out most of the pages.

Book review: The Burdens of Disease: Epidemics and Human Response in Western History

J. N. Hays. The Burdens of Disease: Epidemics and Human Response in Western History. Rutgers, 2003.

During the coronavirus epidemic of 2020, I decided to pull this book off my shelf and read it. I’m glad I did, since it approaches the history of epidemics and disease in Western civilization from a historical and social perspective, explaining how society reacted to such epidemics as the Black Death, leprosy, typhus, cholera, tuberculosis, smallpox, polio, the flu epidemic of 1918, and AIDS. Hays traces the history of how physicians, governments, religion and common people responded to these epidemics. In particular, he gives a history of the development of modern medical science.
Although the book was written long before the international crisis of COVID-19, many lessons in his book will be of interest to readers today. He sees epidemic as a social issue, not just a medical issue, because it affects all of society.
Religious views toward disease have often been a factor. During the bubonic plague (Black Death) of the late Middle Ages, people often thought God was punishing them, and groups of “flagellants” even drew their own blood to atone for sins, assuming the role of Jesus’ sacrifice. Diseases like syphilis and AIDS were especially associated with sexual sin, but also tuberculosis (formerly called “consumption”) and polio were associated with the immorality in filthy slums, until the presence of these diseases among the rich and famous reframed attitudes. Hays tends to be negative toward religious faith, saying the scientific revolution “undercut traditional Christian orthodoxy” (p. 88), although he does not explain how, and later admits that the devout Christian scientist, Isaac Newton, appealed to “the very first Cause, which certainly is not mechanical” (p. 99). On the other hand, Hays also points out the limitations of science, holding in the mirror of irony the bold claims of scientists in 1872 that “men will master the forces of Nature” (p. 213) and in 1955 a news writer’s claim that “man one day may be armed with vaccine shields against every infectious ill that besets him” (p. 240).
Hays shows how disease was used and abused by the powerful, particularly governments, sometimes to protect, and sometimes to control. Italian city-states often quarantined people during the bubonic plague in an attempt to stop the spread of disease, much to the chagrin of businessmen and churches not allowed to meet or trade. Governments cleaned up slums, installed sanitary running water and garbage collection, and required vaccinations, all with a view to better health. However, democracies that valued personal freedoms struggled with this approach, as cities like Hamburg, Germany about 1900 were reluctant to impose vaccinations against the liberties of its people, until the city saw evidence of its effectiveness. City officials in San Francisco denied the existence of plague in Chinatown in 1900, calling it a “scare” and made it a felony to tell the news (p. 183). Governments fighting in World War I suppressed the news stories of the flu epidemic of 1918-19, so as not to divert attention from the war effort, thus it was nicknamed “Spanish flu” because Spain, a non-combatant in the war, reported on it freely. The darkest story of disease was the use of eugenics and euthanasia by Nazi Germany, which considered Jews “diseased” and also exterminated “the tubercular, the homeless, those unwilling or unable to work, and criminals of many sorts” (p. 287). Perhaps the most sinister destruction was the elimination of most of the Native American population by diseases that were brought by Europeans to the New World.
Socially, Hays discusses how social isolation protected people from epidemics in the Middle Ages, when people rarely travelled outside their own villages, and the Black Death only occured after cities arose in Europe and trade developed from nation to nation. He notes that major advances in transportation such as steamships and railroads provided opportunities for plagues to spread rapidly as travel from continent to continent was reduced to days, not giving viruses time to die before they spread to new victims.
Social changes also occurred for the better to prevent disease, as it became socially accepted to take baths, wash hands frequently, drink pastuerized milk, and it became socially unacceptable to spit or sneeze in public, or smoke tobacco in public. One wonders what social changes may occur after our current epidemic, but that is likely the subject of another book.

Easter Sunday, Day of Surprise!

Article copyright by Bob Rogers.

Many people who doubt the truth of Jesus’ resurrection say something like this: “People in the first century were superstitious, simple-minded people, and they were much more likely to believe in a resurrection than modern people are today. So, probably something else happened, and they just wanted so badly for Jesus to live that they convinced themselves that Jesus was raised.”

But when we read the Gospels, a totally different picture appears. The early disciples were just as surprised then as we would be now.

The Gospel of Mark could hardly have used more words to describe ow surprised they were. Mark 16:5 says they were “alarmed.” The angel calmed them by saying, “Don’t be alarmed… You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here.”

Mark 16:8 says, “Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.”

“Alarmed.” “Trembling.” “Bewildered.” “Afraid.” Mark was letting us know that they were totally surprised by the resurrection. They never expected it. Jesus had plainly told them he would be raised (see Mark 8:31-32; 9:30-32; 10:32-34), but they reacted to those predictions with fear and disbelief, just as people would today. Yet it really happened!

And because it happened, world history is changed. Time is divided from B.C. to A.D., because of Jesus. Within five weeks, 10,000 Jews in Jerusalem were following Jesus, and within 300 years, the Roman Empire came under the sway of Christianity.

Best of all, because of Jesus’ resurrection, we don’t have to escape reality, we can face reality! So many people try to escape their painful lives by diversions and entertainment. But Jesus’ resurrection changes all that. The sick man doesn’t have to transport himself into the imaginary world of a basketball star who slam dunks the ball; the sick man knows that in Christ, one day he will walk on streets of gold! The unloved woman does not have to escape into a world of romance novels to imagine love; one day because of her faith in Christ, she will be in a place where everybody loves her and accepts her, and she will see the One who died and arose to save her.

Surprise! Surprise! Easter is not a myth at all. It really happened, and because it happened, we can face reality.

Saturday, Day of Waiting

Article copyright by Bob Rogers.

Like Wednesday of Holy Week, nothing is recorded in the Gospels about what happened on Saturday. However, we know about the day because Mark 15:42 tells us that they buried Jesus before sundown on Friday, so they could rest on Saturday, the Sabbath. Nothing more is recorded until Mark 16:1 tells what happened on the first day of the week, which was Easter Sunday. (Matthew 27:62-66 does record that on Saturday, the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, agreed to post guards at the tomb of Christ.) Saturday was a day of waiting and wondering what would happen next. They had no idea anything good was going to happen the next day. They just had to wait on the Lord.

Isaiah 40:31 (KJV) says, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.” Psalm 27:14 says, “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Saturday, the day of waiting, teaches us to wait on the Lord. Waiting can be excruciatingly hard.

We have all agonized waiting. Maybe you waited to get a job or get a promotion or get a date or get an important phone call or get a test result. Right now, the whole world is waiting—waiting for the coronavirus pandemic to subside. Many of you are sheltered in place, worried about your health, worried about your job, wondering when this will all end. This kind of waiting is very, very hard. This was how the disciples felt that Saturday before Easter when they waited. They wondered what was next, and they did not expect it to be good. After all, their leader had been arrested and crucified.

The Hebrew word for “wait” in Isaiah and Psalms is a word for a chord, or rope. The idea of the word is that God has thrown us a rope, and asks us to hold on, because He has the other end. That’s why “wait” in Isaiah 40:31 is also translated “hope” or “trust.”

What’s more, you and I know the rest of the story. We know that on Easter Sunday, they got news more wonderful than they could ever imagine, because Christ arose!

That is why we who are followers of the Risen Christ can wait on this Saturday, because we are Easter Sunday people. We can wait on the Lord, for even when we don’t know what the future holds, we know Who holds the future—His name is Jesus, and He has already conquered sin and death and the grave and hell.  We can wait in the uncertainty of Saturday, because tomorrow is a certain Sunday!

Good Friday, Day of Sacrifice

Article copyright by Bob Rogers.

On Friday of Holy Week, Jesus was crucified for our sins. The crowd cried “Crucify Him!” and so Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, did exactly that. They flogged Him, mocked Him, beat Him, and crucified Him.

The crucifixion of Jesus Christ is so important to our faith, that all four gospels describe it in great detail.

Mark records six times that Jesus was mocked: once by the Sanhedrin (14:65), twice by the Roman soldiers (15:18, 20), by those who passed by (15:29), by the religious leaders (15:31), and by the criminals crucified with Him (15:32). Six is the number of evil in the Bible. But Jesus overcame evil by his sacrifice on the cross.

Luke records that Jesus asked the Father to forgive them, and one of the criminals was apparently so moved by Christ’s forgiveness that he became repentant (Luke 23:39-43).

John records that as He died, Jesus said, “It is finished!” (John 19:30) Jesus paid the price for sin and won the victory over evil.

Matthew records that when the Roman centurion saw how Jesus died, the soldier declared, “Truly this man was the Son of God!” (Matthew 27:54).
We call it “Good Friday,” because it was good for us, not good for Jesus. By sacrificing Himself for our sin, Jesus did what none of us can do for ourselves, and no religion can do for us. We can’t pay for our sins; we must trust in the payment already made by Jesus upon the cross.
British preacher Dick Lucas recounted an imaginary conversation between an early Christian and her neighbor in Rome.
“Ah,” the neighbor says. “I hear you are religious! Great! Religion is a good thing. Where is your temple?”
“We don’t have a temple,” replies the Christian. “Jesus is our temple.”
“No temple? But where do your priests work and do their rituals?”
“We don’t have priests to mediate the presence of God,” replies the Christian. “Jesus is our priest.”
“No priests? But where do you offer your sacrifices to acquire the favor of your God?”
“We don’t need a sacrifice,” replies the Christian. “Jesus is our sacrifice.”
“What kind of religion is this?” sputters the pagan neighbor.
And the answer is, it’s no kind of religion at all. (Timothy Keller, King’s Cross, p. 45-46)

Because of Good Friday, it’s no longer about religion; it’s about a relationship based on faith in Jesus Christ’s sacrifice for our sin.
Good Friday, the day of sacrifice, teaches us to believe in the Christ who died on the cross, to find forgiveness and eternal life.