Better Listen

Like many who watched Ken Burn’s “Country Music” documentary on PBS, I set one of our radio buttons to a country station. Or maybe I’m the only one. Anyway, I’ve found myself listening to more country songs—songs that tell a story.  There are the stories of George Strait’s rodeo riders with skewed-priorities heading off to Amarillo or Cheyenne. There are the tales of “big-iron” carrying cowboys from an earlier era told by Marty Robbins, who introduced us to Agua Fria, if not El Paso. And there are the ballads of Kenny Rogers.

I’ve heard Rogers’s “Coward of the County” quite often lately. The song, in case you don’t know, tells the story of the singer/narrator’s nephew Tommy, whose father died (hanged?) in prison. When he was only ten, Tommy was taken to the prison to visit his father for the last time. There, his remorseful father told him:

Son my life is over, but yours has just begun
Promise me, son
Not to do the things I've done
Walk away from trouble if you can
Now it don't mean you're weak
If you turn the other cheek
And I hope you're old enough to understand
Son, you don't have to fight to be a man

Tommy follows his father’s words so scrupulously that he becomes known as the coward of the county. We’re not told if that was an official title but people called him, “Yellow.” Then, Tommy’s girl/wife Becky is assaulted by the three Gatlin boys. Finally angry enough to act, Tommy tracks down the brothers and, after a frenzied fight, leaves them all on the barroom floor. (It’s not clear if Tommy as beaten them with his fists or with his guns, if they are knocked-out or dead.)

The song ends with Tommy, speaking to his father’s spirit, “Sometimes you gotta fight when you’re a man.”

First, this is not the greatest song ever written. Popular? Yes. Great? No. The plot has holes through which you can drive “a train bound for nowhere.” Second, I’m not sure Tommy understood what his father was saying. His father said, “Walk away from trouble IF you can.” (Obviously, Dad knew there are times when you can’t walk away from trouble; why Tommy’s uncle didn’t help him understand this is anyone’s guess.)

If, as some suggest, the song is set in the South, Tommy’s father may have been urging his son to reject the old “culture of honor” that demanded a swift and violent response to every perceived slight, a mindset that even sanctioned dueling. In short, Tommy’s dad may have been saying, “Measure your responses. Sometimes walking away is the right thing; sometimes it’s standing your ground.” Or if Dad had been into “pop” psychology (pun intended), he might have said, “Remember, the only way to win a game with a toxic person is to not play.” Still, the story allows us to wonder if Tommy had the come across Luther and Calvin’s perspective on turning the other cheek: Christian love allows you to accept a personal insult or injury but does not allow you to stand by when others are being hurt. But I digress.

Just as Tommy got his father’s words wrong, we may get the Bible’s words wrong. Paul tells the Ephesians, “Don’t be drunk with wine” and, somehow, his words become a general prohibition against drinking any alcohol. The apostle rightly points out the danger of drunkenness but he doesn’t demand we become teetotalers. If you choose avoid alcohol, fine; but those who have made that choice don’t have the right to question the integrity of those who have made other choices.

Many have misunderstood and misused Jesus’s words in the Sermon on the Mount: “Do not judge so you won’t be judged” (Matthew 7:1). Some imagine Jesus giving a “Go, ye, right ahead” to any behavior—except, perhaps, judging. Instead, Jesus is addressing those self-righteous persons who are always ready to criticize others but who never engage in self-criticism (7:3-5). In the larger context of the Sermon and the New Testament, we learn Christian love demands we judge self-destructive and abusive behavior when we find it.

When we examine any statement in the Bible we need to ask certain questions: What does it say? Who is being addressed? Do the words also apply to me? Is this a directive for all time and every Christian or did it address a particular situation? Is the author describing behavior or prescribing behavior? How does my understanding of the words compare with how other Christians understand them?

Tommy’s life would have been easier if he had been given a little more guidance—from his uncle (who knew what was going on but watched in silence) and his mother (who plays no role in the song). While I believe every Christian is capable of reading and understanding the Bible, sometimes we may need a little help, especially if we take a wrong turn.

Shortly after my father became a believer he stumbled across some literature that claimed Christians were obliged to keep all the Old Testament laws with their dietary demands and emphasis on not becoming “defiled.” (My father was a pipefitter/plumber so he sometimes dealt with a lot of “defiling” stuff.) He struggled with how to reorder his life to live up to those demands. Fortunately, our pastor guided him to a better understanding of the issue and showed him how believers had been freed from the burden of the ceremonial law.

If Tommy had really listened to what his father said there might not have been a song—and Becky might not have endured a nightmare. When you read some puzzling statement in the Bible, I’d recommend you reread it carefully, ponder it thoughtfully, and talk about it with someone you trust.

What’s the French for “Pizza?”

Out of my hotel room window, I can watch cars line up at the McDonald’s drive-thru. They are there almost any time I look. If I tilt my head just a bit I can see the blue “t” of a Walmart sign. Though I can’t see it, I know there is a Taco Bell just around the corner. But such evidence is misleading. I’m clearly not looking out a hotel window in Columbus, Ohio, or Hereford, Texas. The McDonald’s sign promotes their “Saucisse McMuffin avec oeuf.”

I am in the old city of Quebec (founded 1608). The first European settlers in the area spoke French and the Québécois have never gotten over it. The official language of the province is French. All the road signs are in French—only French; ironically, the neighboring provinces of Ontario and New Brunswick use both English and French on their road signs. Fortunately, stop signs (“Arrêt”) are octagonal.

Pat and I sometimes couldn’t find anyone else who spoke English; when we did, it was often an older person. The problem wasn’t insurmountable. I even resurrected enough of the French I had studied years ago to order breakfast one morning (Saucisse McMuffin avec oeuf sans fromage). Okay it wasn’t elegant.

I often thought of the old 1953, Jimmy Kennedy song about Constantinople becoming Istanbul. It has the line, “Istanbul was Constantinople/Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople . . . Why did Constantinople get the works? /That's nobody's business but the Turks.”

That the Québécois have chosen to hold onto the French language is nobody’s business but theirs.

An old joke goes:

“What do you call someone who speaks three languages?”

“Trilingual.”

“What do you call someone who speaks two languages?”

“Bilingual.”

“What do you call someone who speaks one language?”

“An American.”

Americans do sometimes brashly assume everyone speaks English or, at least, ought to speak English. (Not an unreasonable assumption: in much of the world people are eagerly studying English.) We Americans are sometimes provincial; convinced everyone ought to be like us.

But I know places in Columbus where signs are in eight languages. I was recently in a hospital room where there was a phone that allowed doctors speak to patients, though interpreters who spoke one of 200 languages.

As individuals we Americans might be a bit narrow-minded from time to time. But on the whole we know we’re not the only folks in the world. And, contrary to widespread rumors, we want strangers to feel welcome. It’s a good attitude. N'est-ce pas?

A Trim and a Blessing

I had a haircut yesterday. It was Senior Wednesday, which meant a major discount (for some reason they don’t ask for my proof-of-age). The stylists—not “barbers” but “stylists”—were in a great mood. I heard them asking customers about their Easter plans. The young woman cutting my hair said she would be driving two-and-a-half hours to see her mother; she’d “have to go to church” but she was looking forward to seeing her mother. As each customer left, the stylists called out, “Have a happy Easter.”

My stylist wished me a “Happy Easter,” I said something similar and added, “Have a safe trip to see you mom.” But I didn’t say something else that crossed my mind: It is the very nature of Easter to be a happy day. Whether the day displays spring in its glory or is encumbered with so much snow church services must be cancelled (I’ve seen both), Easter is a day of celebration.

Easter celebrates the faithfulness of the God who promised to send One who would undo the impact of humanity’s rebellion, a rebellion against the very God who wished only our greatest good.

Easter celebrates the triumph over the tomb, ending the illusion of death’s finality, promising the possibility of a new life with an ever new newness .

Easter celebrates our confidence that evil, betrayal, cruelty, and hate will not have the final word.

So, have a happy Easter. What else?

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By the way, I have recently added two new books to my Kindle site. The Galatian Gospel: Lesson of Christian Freedom, a verse-by-verse study of Paul’s letter celebrating the gospel of grace; and Colossians: Counsel for a Church Confronting a Crisis of Confidence, an exposition of Paul’s letter to a backwater congregation dealing with false teachers who were undermining the foundations of Christian truth. You can see more at https://www.amazon.com/James-Hickman/e/B01FPJH6O8. Easter blessing to you all.