Book Review: The Latter Rain

Today I have the pleasure of reviewing The Latter Rain, by James Conis.

From the product description at Amazon.com:

The Latter Rain explores the symbols and types of the Book of Isaiah, creating a framework that can then be applied to other books of the Bible, helping the reader perceive meaning that was once obscured in symbolism. One such symbolic type is that of rain. While this type is not exclusive to Isaiah, it is used by Isaiah to symbolize the communication from God to man. In Deuteronomy, the Lord himself explains this concept:

Deuteronomy 32:1-3

1 GIVE ear, O ye heavens, and I will speak; and hear, O earth, the words of my mouth.
2 My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass:
3 Because I will publish the name of the LORD: ascribe ye greatness unto our God.

The term, Latter Rain, therefore means a period of time in the last days when the Lord will again pour out his spirit upon his children on the earth, thus leading them to truth and understanding.

This book clarifies these and other concepts pertaining to the last days. Through a methodical analysis of various books contained in the Bible, the reader is able to view the attributes and characteristics of God's communications to his prophets and disciples in ancient times, and to use these observations to predict what one should expect to occur in the period of the Latter Rain.

Castle Mountain Press is proud to introduce the book The Latter Rain. Although many books have been written about the prophecies of Isaiah, this book not only correctly identifies the symbols and types found in Isaiah, but uses this new information to make sense of the rest of the Bible. The reader of The Latter Rain, whether familiar with the scriptures or not, comes away from the experience with a completely new perspective on what the ancient prophets are saying about our day and age.


Here are my impressions about The Latter Rain:

From the Amazon description and the back cover copy, I expected this to be somewhat of an academic approach to the book of Isaiah. Upon reading the preface, I realized that this was not going to be the case. That was somewhat disappointing, as I really enjoy reading such books.

No matter. After reading the preface, it became clear that this book is Mr. Conis' own interpretation of the Bible. That's fine. We're all entitled to our opinions and interpretations of scripture. I was curious as to how well Mr. Conis would handle the task.

As it turns out, pretty well. I particularly liked his analysis of the stories of Joseph and Moses and how he tied them back to the New Testament. This alone is reason to read the book.

There were a few areas in which I think the book could have been improved. One thing that jumped out at me from the moment I opened the book is the word density on the page. The font is fairly small and compact, with small margins. My impression was that the publisher was trying to fit as much information as possible onto a page in order to get the page count down. This made it more difficult for me to read.

The book could also have been a bit more concise. There were times, particularly in the beginning, where it felt like there was a lot of repetition. I understand and appreciate the need to be thorough. Maybe I'm just a fast study and get it quicker than most. Once I grasped what Mr. Conis was saying, I was ready to move on. Often, I would be ready to go to a new topic before he was, so I found myself skipping over the scripture verses in order to get to the next point more quickly. Once I made it past the chapter on Ezekiel, however, things were moving on in a pace much more to my liking.

Overall, this book raises some interesting questions. It made me think, which is something I look for in non-fiction. Mr. Conis' positions are well thought out and easy to follow. I found myself pausing from time to time and thinking, "Hmm. That's an interpretation I've never heard before. It makes a lot of sense." Or, "Hmm. I think he's stretching just a little here. I don't think that interpretation is quite accurate. Still, if I just toss it out, the rest of it works pretty well."

To sum it up, there are some gems in The Latter Rain. You may have to do some skimming at times or set aside some of what you unearth, but when all is said and done, you'll have a nice, little stash. While not the most compelling book I've ever read, it is a worthwhile read, as it does a fairly good job of being the type of book it aspires to be.

You may purchase The Latter Rain through Amazon.

Book Review: KiTE

Today I have the pleasure of reviewing KiTE by Bill Shears as part of his virtual blog tour. I received a copy of the book for review purposes, which in no way guarantees I will give it a favorable review. The following paragraph, taken from here, gives you a brief overview of what the book is about.

--

KiTE, by Bill Shears, is a science fiction novel set in Earth orbit. Mason Dash, operator of Kite, the flagship of Earth Orbit Maintenance Department’s debris sweeper fleet, suspects spacejackers on an abandoned space station may be using it as a platform for a terrorist attack on Earth targets. Sheila, his beautiful virtual companion, has been “enhanced” with an experimental free will module. Inside the computer system of Kite a digital uprising is under way. Sheila goes off on her own adventure and finds she’s forced to split her focus between Dash’s situation in the “real world” and an ambitious virtual tyrant who has also taken a fancy to her, and who wants to expand his empire beyond Kite. Meanwhile Dash finds the spacejackers are not what he suspected, maybe worse. And it’s just then that humankind’s first unearthly visitor appears in Earth orbit, who is none too pleased. Earth’s fate hangs in the balance.

--

This book was so much fun to read! As others have noted in their reviews, there is something in the way that Shears writes that brings to mind the late, great Douglas Adams. By the time I reached the end of KiTE, there was absolutely no question whatsoever that Adams has influenced Shears' writing; yet, despite Adams' influence, their voices are distinctly different. While Adams would include absurd, over-the-top elements in his stories, Shears takes a more "hard core" approach to his science fiction. The end result is rather wonderful, I think.

The characters are all distinctly themselves and believable, I might add. The dialogue is clever. The plot is intriguing. The book is fun to read. Wait. I said that already, didn't I? No matter. It's true. While parts of KiTE made me chuckle, I found myself smiling (inwardly, at least) throughout the book, and I think most people will too.

KiTE is not one of those books where you can check your brain at the door when you open its cover and begin to read. It's cerebral stuff. If you happen to like that sort of literature, and I do, then your brain will be most happy when you read KiTE. Be forewarned, you will probably have to put KiTE down periodically in order to give your brain a breather. But then, as soon as you have digested all that hard-core, science fiction goodness, you'll be eager to rush back to the book and dive right back in for another helping.

Since I know there are those out there who care about this sort of thing, I should let you know there is some mild profanity in this book. In terms of movie ratings, it would garner a PG rating. There are no graphic sex scenes between humans in KiTE. Now, if you are a subroutine in a computer program, yeah, there is a rather tame sex scene. At least I think humans will find it tame. I thought it was funny, myself.

Overall, KiTE is very well written. It's a book I can see myself re-reading. I don't read most books more than once. The fact that I would read this book again places it in exclusive company. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys science fiction.

You can purchase KiTE here. Bill Shears' website is here. For a woman's take on this wonderful book, check out my wife, Rebecca's, review here. 

Book Review: Miss Delacourt Has Her Day

I haven't done any book reviews on my blog before, but I have plans to change that. So look for more reviews in the days and weeks to come.

For my first ever book review, I will be sharing my thoughts and feelings on Miss Delacourt Has Her Day by Heidi Ashworth. In all fairness to anyone reading this, I have to disclose that my wife and I were given a copy of the book as a gift. While Heidi and I have never met "in real life", I consider her a friend. Also, my name appears in the acknowledgements of the book because one of the characters uses a poem I wrote to reassure his true love that she is, indeed, the one for him. So while I have every reason to be biased here, I will be honest and objective.

I don't read romances. I don't like them. I'm more of a fantasy, science fiction, thriller type of guy. Before my dear wife "met" Heidi online, I had never even heard the term regency romance, much less ever read one. 

Now I can say I have read a grand total of two regency romance books, the first of which was Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind. I really ought to review that one as well. To be perfectly honest with you, the only reason I ever read it in the first place was because Rebecca and I knew Heidi via blogging and I thought it would be cool to read a book written by someone I kind of knew. In a nutshell:

I. Loved. It.

Even though I don't like reading romance novels, and despite the fact that I am totally unschooled in the conventions of regency romance and had to focus on practically every bit of dialogue in the book in order to understand what I was reading, I fell head-over-heels completely in love with the book and the characters in it. So even if I Heidi hadn't included my poem in the book, I would have wanted to read it. In fact, I read Miss Delacourt Has Her Day before Rebecca did. That was because she decided to do that thing women sometimes do and saved reading the book as a reward for doing something she needed to get done. Whatever. I took advantage of the rare opportunity to read a book we're both interested in first and dove right in.

I. Loved. It.

I still struggled with occasionally not understanding why some things characters said were considered impolite or had weighty significance, but that's ok. Like I said, regency romances are not my thing. Still, Heidi's style of writing is charming, engaging, and so much fun to read. The characters from the previous novel, while already familiar, showed growth and evolution from the previous novel. This is something I expect to find in a sequel and was not disappointed. The characters are all very well defined and came to life right before my eyes. 

The dialogue in Miss Delacourt Has Her Day is witty and engaging. I loved the banter between characters. While some of it was completely over my head, it was well written and moved the story along splendidly. I think this is one area in which the book really shines.

If there was any aspect of the book that I thought could have been better, it would be the plot. While not the most compelling action I have ever read, it was still more than sufficient to advance the story and resolve the issues the characters faced. It wasn't bad by any stretch of the imagination--far from it--but maybe, being a regency romance, the action isn't the focus of the book. Maybe the genre is more character- and relationship-driven. I don't know. This isn't my usual fare. Like I said earlier, I'm used to fantasy, science fiction, etc. I suspect that my opinion here has more to do with my literary preferences (and that Y-chromosome) than anything else. That said, the characters were so lovable that I really didn't care. I tore through the last half of the book and closed it feeling like Oliver Twist. Please, Heidi. Could we have some more?

There were parts of the novel where I laughed out loud, which is not a common occurrence for me. The fact that I was amused means I was able to become fully engaged and immerse myself in the story and fall in love with the characters. Considering my lack of affinity for the genre, this speaks volumes for the masterful skill with which Heidi wove this book together. I am impressed, which is something I don't say very often with the books I read. In fact, I am so impressed with Heidi's writing that I will eagerly read anything she publishes. This places Heidi Ashworth firmly among the elite ranks of my favorite authors.

You can buy Miss Delacourt Has Her Day here, Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind here, and you can find Heidi Ashworth hanging out on her blog at heidiashworth.blogspot.com. To like her on Facebook, click here.

Seven Things You Never Knew About Me - Part 2 of ??

In my first installment, I ended it by mentioning that I had gone off on a few tangents. I do that a lot. Perhaps I go off on so many tangents because I so love math. I also enjoy puns and wordplay, which is why I hope you'll forgive me if I say that going off on tangents is not normal. Badum-ching!

**CRICKETS CHIRPING**

Anyway, that was my pathetic way of creating a segue into the realm of mathematics, as only math nerds will get the above joke. Now that I'm here, the next cool fact about me has everything to do with my love of math.

Finally, Something That Might Actually Be Interesting--AKA Fact #3

I've always loved math. Maybe because it's something for which I have a talent. You can tell from my sidebar that one of my degrees is in math. So what? That's not news. No, it's not. But what you don't know is that I completed all my math coursework in less than two calendar years. I also took all the computer science classes I needed for my minor in that time period. In retrospect, that was kind of masochistic and I wouldn't want to go through it ever again. Especially with the 35 hours of mostly upper-division courses taken during my last year. That was exhausting!

During my last semester, I got to do something that was really, really fun. After completing a class in mathematical modeling, my professor approached me and asked me if I would be interested in doing an independent study course. He had this Spirograph™ (yes, Spirograph™ is indeed a registered trademark of Hasbro) template that he wanted a student to model and create a program that would draw them. Would I be interested in doing that? Um...yeah!

This is what it looked like, except the template was orange instead of green:



So here's what I had to do. I first had to derive the mathematical equations that create both circular and elliptical spirographs on my own. As it turns out, the circular spirograph is not that complicated. The formulas were relatively simple to derive, and making a program to graph them was also fairly easy. The ellipse, however, is kind of a messy animal. Deriving the equations took some work. The formulas involve integrals of a non-closed form (that means you have to use ugly-looking calculus) and were not trivial to translate into a computer algorithm.

The end result is that I created a web page that let you click on the template to choose a shape, choose a gear, choose the hole, and then it would generate the image. Pretty cool, huh?

After digging around for a while on Google, I realized something.

My program was the only one in existence that generated elliptical Spirographs!

Furthermore, mine was (and still is) the only one that actually models a genuine, real live, spirograph toy.

Unfortunately, the University's server that hosted my little project was taken offline a few years ago. So you won't be able to see my beautiful little program in all its glory. Thankfully, I had a backup. Unfortunately, my backup was old, buggy, and contained an uninteresting, simplistic interface. A while back, I googled myself and elliptical spirographs. I was pleasantly surprised to see that someone else had created a program that will generate elliptical spirographs. I took a look at the guy's web page. He even gave me a shout out. By that I mean he expressed doubt that I had actually done what I claimed to have done.

So what did I do? I went to the internet archive and downloaded most of the images I used to create my masterful web page. I have debugged my program and am working to get it re-released. When that happens, I will post a link.

Am I going to stop there? Of course not! I am going to create another web page that allows you to enter your own dimensions and create all sorts of beautiful elliptical spirographs. Because that other guy used an inferior method to generate his elliptical spirographs (you can't change the dimensions on his ellipse because of the method he used to make his work), I will be sure to let him know about both of my pages so he can see for himself just how mistaken he was to doubt me :-D

So there you have it. That's probably something most of my many readers didn't know before--I created a world's first and only one of something. That's not something many people can hang their hat on.

Seven Things You Never Knew About Me - Part 1 of ??

This post is exceedingly long overdue. Waaaaaay back on January 28, 2009, LT tagged me in a comment she made on one of my blog posts. It's been so long ago that I don't remember the rules (okay--she could have tagged me last week and I wouldn't remember the rules), but the gist of it is that if someone "tags" you, you're supposed to share seven things about yourself that (presumably) those who follow your blog don't know. I think maybe it's kind of like picking "truth" in a game of Truth or Dare--except someone else chooses "truth" for you. Seven. Times.

SUPER COOL FACT ABOUT ME # 1

I'm normally a pretty private person. Some people love to go on and on about themselves, their children, their pets, their significant other, how smart or well-read they are, the mole in the shape of the Virgin Mary on their left buttock the dermatologist wants them to keep an eye on, etc. That's not me.

And wow. That was totally lame. That's not a super cool fact about me at all. Furthermore, the fact that it's taken me so long to get around to this might have been a clue that I'm not someone who can't keep himself to himself. Does this mean the above doesn't count as one of the seven things about me you never knew? Since I don't remember the rules, I can play Calvinball with them if I want to ;-)

To make up for the complete and utter lameness and misleading nature of the not-so-super-cool fact about me I just shared, I will make up for it by posting

SLIGHTLY LESS BORING FACT ABOUT ME #2

I'm a Mac. Although I make my living as a network and systems administrator of a Windows-based network, I am typing this on my beloved 24" iMac. In case you are a burglar who somehow figures out where I live, you should also know that we have a very large dog who stays inside, not far from where I keep my iMac. One of the things you should know about our dog is that he has a mad dog disease, which causes his voracious appetite, and strangers are a particular favorite of his. I've given him permission to eat you if you try to break in and steal my Mac. I wouldn't worry about his illness, though. They say it can't cross the canine-human species barrier unless his saliva enters your bloodstream, which is really only a concern if you happen to escape before he finishes devouring you.

Anyway, back to my computer preferences. Here's the long and the short of it. I get to fix lots of computer/network/software problems as part of my job. Not to brag, but I'm exceptionally good at what I do. At least I like to think that's why some of my co-workers call me "The Wizard". After a long day of keeping everybody's computers up and running in the Land of Oz, the last thing I really want to have to do is more of the same when I get home. I got tired of doing that, so I bought a Mac.

Actually, that's not quite true. While it's a very valid reason to buy a Mac, The Real Reason™ I bought a Mac was because I had a great idea for a killer iPhone application and needed a Mac with which to create it. I haven't started on the app yet, BTW. You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men, don't you? What they fail to mention is why they go awry. Babies. That's right--babies. Children in general, but babies in particular. They dash all your unimportant dreams to pieces. (Oh, how I love you, sweet baby of mine who is super demanding and still won't sleep through the night!) But it's worth the trade-off.

Whew! I certainly go off on a lot of tangents, don't I? I already know where this is going next, but you'll just have to wait until I get around to writing it to find out :-)

Overheard at Walmart

A while back I was picking up groceries at Walmart for my dear wife. Since grocery shopping is one of those activities I particularly loathe (especially at Walmart), I was rushing through the store as quickly as was humanly possible.

As I made my way past the end of an aisle, my ears picked up on what must have been one heck of a conversation. Two guys, obviously friends who hadn't seen each other in a while, were standing near the end of an aisle.

The first guy says to the second guy, "Once, my ex-girlfriend loosened all the lug nuts on my car. The next day I was driving to work and..."

As soon as I realized what I had just heard, I hesitated. I was already out of earshot, but dying to hear how the rest of the conversation played out. What happened that morning? Did the wheels come off his car? Did his car fly off the road and land on a flock of wild turkeys? Did he send a breakup text to his girlfriend from the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital?

Alas, in my uncertainty, too much time had passed for me to go back and attempt to eavesdrop on the rest of their conversation. Besides, I was in Walmart. The less time I spend in that place, the happier I am. So I finished getting the things on my list and raced to find a line with less than 37 people in it.

But can you imagine? His ex-girlfriend loosened all the lug nuts on his car. All. Of. Them. Either she was furious with him, or else she was one of those psychotic people you hope you never have the pleasure of meeting. Had he been caught in a Tiger Woods? I'm thinking he hadn't. Not that I have any experience in these matters, but I would think that most women faced with that kind of situation and who would resort to violence, would do so immediately.

No, the fact that this woman would sabotage his car in the middle of the night would indicate that what she did was cold, calculated, and methodical. Perhaps she was trying to get rid of him and make it look like an accident. Was there insurance money involved? Nah. Too cliché. Maybe he had forgotten their 19 1/2 week anniversary, which obviously meant that he didn't love her and had plans to date her sister on the side. Such a shortcoming in a man obviously means that not only is the relationship is unsalvageable, but that the @#$% must die.

In any case, I would say that the guy is lucky to have escaped from that relationship with his life and full use of all his limbs. Hopefully his car survived as well.

The Black Widow

I was four-and-a-half years old and fascinated with spiders, grasshoppers, and all creepy-crawlies in general. I particularly loved spiders, and thought they were pretty--especially garden spiders with their yellow and black abdomens and gigantic webs.

One morning, I went outside and made a beeline to the water meter because I was hoping to find some slugs to play with. There were almost always slugs there, and I was high on anticipation. I stuck my finger in the hole in the lid and pulled. The lid was stuck. So I tried again, pulling with all my strength. No luck :-(

Being the determined optimist I am, I looked around and found a rake with a handle that would fit in the hole. So I jammed it in and lifted the lid off. No slugs! I was disappointed, but only momentarily. Much to my surprise and delight, on the underside of the lid, just an inch or so from where I had placed my finger was a gigantic black widow! I knew immediately what I had encountered, and was struck by how shiny and pretty she was.

I knew black widows were poisonous, so I did what any other normal four-year-old boy would have done. I ran inside, got an empty mayonnaise jar, and ran back to the water meter. The spider hadn't moved. Excellent!

I didn't want to get bitten (Duh! They're poisonous!), so I found a stick roughly two feet long, opened the jar, and touched the spider. Immediately, it came racing up the stick so fast I thought it might get me and I would be dead. Reacting quickly, I tapped the stick against the rim of the jar. Success! The spider was in the jar! Not wanting to give her the chance to escape, I screwed the lid on as fast as I could. The spider had left a web in her wake, and I was quite surprised by how strong it was. (Years later I would learn that they use black widow webbing to make the cross-hairs in rifle scopes.)

Man! What a pretty spider! I bet Mommy would be impressed!

So I traipsed inside to show my poor mother my prize.

"Look, Mommy! See what I found!"

Her eyes widened with panic and all the blood drained from her face.

"James! Are you OK? Did it bite you?"

"I'm OK. It didn't bite me."

"Are you sure? Are sure it didn't bite you?"

Why does she keep asking me if it bit me. I already said it didn't.

"No, Mommy. It didn't bite me. See how pretty it is?"

I can only imagine what must have been going through my dear mother's head. At the time I was disappointed that she wasn't more impressed that I had caught this dangerous spider all by myself. What was wrong with her!? Didn't she get it? I had caught a black widow! I was pretty hot stuff!

I left my prize on the counter. The next morning I woke up to find the poor spider floating in half a jar of water. Someone had murdered my beloved pet!

For years I thought my parents had done the sensible thing and killed the dangerous creature. Wrong. My older brother, who was nearly six at the time, was jealous of my accomplishment and had done her in.

Jerk!

How to Tell When You're Really Sick

I didn't go to work today. That's because I am sick. For those of you who aspire to a career in the medical profession, here is how to tell for certain--100% dead certain, that is--whether or not a person is honest-to-goodness, truly, verifiably sick.

WARNING: It's not pretty. Continue reading at your own risk. Consider yourself warned.

Tossing and turning all night does not a sick person make--even when that tossing and turning is caused by a body that aches in places one does not have in one's body. Stress could cause that. Neither does waking up with that feeling in the pit of one's stomach. This could be explained by gas. The same could be said for another special feeling deep within one's bowels. Possibly gas as well.

Sprinting to the bathroom so quickly Usain Bolt would be chowing down on one's dust, only to lose half one's body weight in water (through a process other than peeing) means nothing either. Quickly flushing, dropping to one's knees, and un-eating one's dinner while gripping the toilet seat so hard one's fingerprints become part of the wood is also inconclusive. So too is heaving so hard and fast that trying to breathe between retches nearly results in literally inhaling one's dinner (after figuratively inhaling it earlier). Super soaker-like jets of tears shooting from one's eyes at the same time one's stomach inverts itself prove nothing.

No, my friends, there is yet one more symptom that decisively proves one is ill. Suppose one has the coolest electronic leash on the planet, which enables one to receive one's co-worker's support requests, even whilst on one's deathbed. One might even manage to reply to such an e-mail. The true determining factor in whether one is ill or not lies in one's response to the following message:

Thanks a bunch. You can have chocolate when you come by!

If the thought of actually eating said chocolate causes one to jump up, frantically seeking a suitable container just in case the feeling doesn't pass, then it's conclusive. You are looking at someone pounding like mad on Death's door, screaming his or her head off, begging and pleading to be let in already.

New Year's Resolutions

Because we tend to set grandiose goals for the wondrous, New Year™, we frequently set goals that are very difficult to attain and consequently, set ourselves up for failure. For instance, how many times have we resolved to do something big like exercise every day, or never yell at the kids ever again? Then how does it make us feel when we inevitably fail to keep up that behavior for an entire year? Exactly.

When we operate under the impression that we have to bequeath a grandiose gift to the New Year™, our expectations for ourselves are, in my opinion, unrealistic. Just as we gain self-esteem by accomplishing goals, we lose self-esteem every time we fail. The loftier the goal (if it's for the New Year™, we have to make it count, right?) the harder the failure hits us. At least that’s true for me. The few times I tried to set New Year’s Resolutions and only kept them for a few weeks, I felt terrible. In retrospect, I see that the problem was that my expectations for myself were unreasonable, and I had set myself up for certain failure.

Instead of setting overarching goals for the New Year™, I propose that we instead set goals with a much more limited scope. Instead of resolving to make some great change over the course of a year, why not determine to do something differently tomorrow? Instead of “This year I resolve to lose 25 pounds,” let us say, “Tomorrow I will exercise and not overeat.” If we fail at keeping a daily goal, we can always renew the resolution the next day, and the sting of failure is not felt as keenly.

Seriously, how many of us, when we flub a New Year’s resolution say, “OK. I blew it today, but I can always pick back up tomorrow and keep my resolution for the majority of the year”? I bet none of us do. I think we say instead, “Great. I blew it again. Oh well. There’s always the next New Year™.” Then we proceed to hold on to our bad habits until there is another New Year™ worthy of our sacred resolutions.

This year. Wait. No. From now on, I resolve to do more introspection and set more short-term goals. Tomorrow I will be patient when my children forget to use their inside voice or interrupt me when I’m talking to Rebecca. They will go to sleep, completely secure in the knowledge that I love them with all my heart and think they’re the most special children to ever live. I have other resolutions for tomorrow, but I think I’ll keep them to myself :-)

Happy New Year and Happy Tomorrow!

For My Angel

I wrote this for/about Rebecca before we met.

If ever an Angel mine eyes did behold

With snowy white wings and a halo of gold

Or if there a mermaid should somewhere be found

Whose voice flowed like honey, whose hair bathed the ground

Or should there a Siren's sweet song fill the air

Or spied I a rainbow, you'd not find me there

For these make but little impression on me

All pale in the face of the beauty in thee

Oh, I could adventure upon the high seas

And sail the world over however I pleased

Or I could climb mountains, ford river and stream

In search of my destiny, chasing a dream

Yea, many's the wonder I'm yearning to see

And places a plenty my heart longs to be

Though countless and sundry the things I could do

My soul lies content simply being with you

Remembering Ebenezer

In an earlier post, I started to share my feelings about a much-maligned man. Granted, he's a fictional character; still, it really bothers me how we treat his memory.

That man, of course, is Ebenezer Scrooge. His name is synonymous with avarice, selfishness, and a loathing of Christmas. This is, in my mind, a great injustice. While it is entirely true that for much of his life, Scrooge was indeed the person most people associate with his name, it is also true that he became the antithesis of his former self.

In the closing lines of the book, Charles Dickens describes Ebenezer Scrooge as follows:

Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world.

Why is it then, that instead of remembering Scrooge as this kind, loving, generous human being who enriched so many people's lives, we choose to remember him for his sins and misdeeds? Why do we selfishly expect others to overlook our own faults and shortcomings, yet we cling so desperately to the judgments we make of others?

It seems to me the height of irony that we have entirely missed the point of A Christmas Carol. The message is one of redemption, hope, and new beginnings. Isn't that the whole point of Christmas? We celebrate the gift of Jesus Christ to the world, and through Him, the opportunity to become new creatures.

Who among us, upon coming to grips with the wretched people that we are, does not wish to erase the past and become better than we were? Indeed, everything in this life depends upon an ongoing recognizance that we are flawed, and have a constant need to make changes and amends. Furthermore, we desperately hope that others will forgive us our trespasses and allow us to become the people we ought to be.

Why then, do we find it so difficult to refuse others the opportunity we so desperately long for ourselves? Why do we insist on remembering people as they were for their shortcomings, and not for the people they become?

I think that secretly, all of us possess some degree of self-loathing. We see our own imperfections, compare ourselves with our potential, and judge ourselves lacking. It is far easier to perpetually condemn those who have stumbled and righted themselves, than it is to correct our own faults. How much simpler it is to look down upon the embittered, hateful old man Ebenezer Scrooge used to be and say to ourselves, “I'm so much better than he is. I love Christmas, and would never treat others as cruelly as he does.” If, however, we accept the new and improved Ebenezer Scrooge and compare ourselves to him, the truth is a terrible one to face. The man he became is far more generous and loving than we are. If we allow Scrooge to change, in comparison, we are the greedy, unloving, uncaring ones.

It is our own insecurities, then, that cause us to remember the sinner in his former state and not his current one. Seeing those who have successfully overcome the evil tendencies with which we all struggle, often serves as a reminder to us of our own inadequacies. Instead of inspiring us to change, our pride refuses to allow us to see the malefactor in his state of rebirth and transformation. As long as we see others for the awful people they used to be, we can continue to live under the insidious, false pretext that the abysmal us is somehow better than our new and improved neighbor. As long as we've conned ourselves into thinking that we're somehow better than the awful person another used to be, then we're still a “good person” who has no need to change.

This Christmas, it is my hope that we may show others the same mercy and forgiveness we so desperately wish for ourselves. May we see the repentant sinner and be inspired to follow his example, and allow him the opportunity to change and be forgiven. May we hear the name Ebenezer Scrooge and remember him as the wonderful, charitable soul he became, and not the sad, shell of a man he was before. Most importantly, may we remember it is precisely because of Christmas, that come judgment day, we can likewise be looked upon with mercy and forgiveness, and judged—not for who we used to be—but who we became through the merits, grace, and mercy of Jesus Christ.

And the Winner Is...

This person. Congratulations, Heidi! You were the first to correctly guess the secret identity of the mystery man. By the way, I've given you a prize. It's quite lame, by the way, but it's the best I've got at the moment. I've started following your blog and have left comments on all your posts that are on the front page. Like I said, it's really lame. Your prize, that is. Not your blog.

I realize there are long-established blogging etiquette conventions that dictate you're supposed to respond to comments, visit the blogs of those who visit yours, etc. Unfortunately, I don't have as much time to dedicate to that sort of thing as I would like. Especially if Rebecca is on the computer. I think we both need laptops. Anyway, this means I will not be able to do as much blog-hopping as I would like to do.

There's a principle in Economics (WARNING: If you suffer from sleep apnea, read no further unless you're hooked up to your machine) known as opportunity costs. Opportunity costs are what it costs a person to engage in any given activity. The opportunity costs of that activity are whatever benefit you would have gained had you chosen your best alternative activity.

In this case, the value of Heidi's prize is whatever I gave up to go read and comment on her posts. Since those infomercials tell me I could be making bazillions of dollars working out of my home part time, that would be my best alternative activity. So, Heidi, I gave up bazillions of dollars, being my own boss, and wearing my PJs (Attention Grammar Nazis(TM), notice I left off the apostrophe. You're welcome.) to work to give you your prize. Those are some seriously valuable comments. In other words, you hit the jackpot. No need to thank me.

To the rest of you who were kind enough to read my first post and leave comments, I promise I will eventually get around to reading some of your stuff and commenting on it as well. Unfortunately, I will only be giving up, oh, I don't know, a part-time job at Wal-Mart (EDIT: Wal-Mart should be so lucky to have me working for them). So that means my comments on Heidi's blog will be worth far more than the comments left for everyone else.

Or not. That's still lame, isn't it? But hey, it's Christmas! It's the thought that counts, right? In memory of the new-and-improved, charitable and generous Ebeneezer Scrooge, have mercy on my pathetic offering.

Oh! Wait! I know! I can put in a plug for Heidi's book, Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind. If you read it all your dreams will come true, and if you don't, all the hair you want to grow will fall out and all the hair you don't want to grow will become a forest. Hopefully that makes it a no-brainer for you.

Perception and Mystery

Do you ever find that some things really bother you, but for some reason you can't quite put your finger on it? Really? You do? Great! This isn't one of those times.

Quick. Let's play a game of "Who am I?", shall we?

This great man was described as follows:

"...as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city ever knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough in the good old world."

Was he a member of the clergy? Nope. Was he some great politician? Heavens no! You don't believe there's such a thing, do you?

What about a generous philanthropist? That he most certainly was, but that is not how the world remembers him. No. This wonderful man's name is synonymous with selfishness, greed, misery and a total and complete dearth of concern for the welfare of anyone other than himself.

Have you guessed who the mystery man is? If you're my wife there's no mystery. Wait. That doesn't sound good. Sweetie, if you're reading this, there's still plenty of mystery, I swear. What I mean is that you already know the answer, so you don't count. Uh . . . that sounds even worse. Time to shut up.

Anyway, I was going to go ahead and tell you who I am talking about, and then do a little ranting and pontification. I think, however, that it will be more fun to play a little guessing game. At least it seems like fun at the moment. I'm tired, so I could be terribly wrong. If you know the secret identity of the man in question, leave your guess in the comments. If you're right, you'll be rewarded--but only if you didn't use Google. If you do cheat and use Google, please don't spoil it by posting the answer.

Thanks for stopping by!