Fool's Gold

Jeremiah 32: 17-18

17 Ah Lord God! behold, thou hast made the heaven and the earth by thy great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for thee:

18 Thou shewest lovingkindness unto thousands, and recompensest the iniquity of the fathers into the bosom of their children after them: the Great, the Mighty God, the Lord of hosts, is his name.

The Earth does not wobble at the death of one man. The earth does not go off its axis at the death of one million men. Although men, their personalities are the best God has to offer. Like Fool's Gold, fakery, God must be greatly embarrassed by many of us (The mineral pyrite, or iron pyrite, also known as fool's gold, is an iron sulfide with the chemical formula FeS2. This mineral's metallic luster and pale brass-yellow hue give it a superficial resemblance to gold, hence the well-known nickname of fool's gold. A real pretender but has no real value.)

For many years, this writer owned a very fine condo apartment on Manhattan's East Side. I was never a New Yorker, never felt like a New Yorker, always lived and maintained my homes in the south, but since I could afford this extravagance, and since it was an excellent launching pad for my world travels, at an energetic-enigmatic time in my life when I was truly concerned with personal-egotistical advancement, this pied-a-terre served me well. I lived on Beakman Place by the United Nations... on the corner, just across the street from the South Korean embassy, just across the street from famed composer Irving Berlin. I enjoyed "hobknobbing" with the elitists in this area of the city, although I was not one of them (I, too, can act-pretend, I felt I was stranded on an island of sanity in a sea of heathenism, these diplomats had a right to their lifestyles. I was flirting with Fool's Gold).

Among my several philanthropic causes, the New York-based Volunteer Services for Children (an organization that provides shelters for homeless children). I was attending a meeting of the national group at the Hilton hotel on Avenue of the Americas (Sixth Ave.), though completely blind, I had no difficulty getting to the building, up the escalator, into the correct assemblage. But, during the meeting, going to the Men's room, I became disoriented and wound up in another meeting. Of course, I dress well, can fit into any group. The meeting into which I ventured was a group of communist union workers. They were having coffee and donuts and one man invited me to join them, actually brought me a cup of coffee and a donut. Several talked with me and since I had on my veteran's DAV cap, with my rank, insignia and medical caduceus, attracted much attention. I guess they thought I was one of them. Later, men on either side, invited me to join another scheduled meeting in another part of town. One said, "Gus will be there." Of course, he was talking about Gus Hall, chairman of the American Communist Party. Always seeking a new adventure, I got right in the taxi cab with them. The meeting was held on the West Side of Manhattan in a large warehouse-type building. Unaware why they had invited me, probably thinking I was a very disgruntled American. During the meeting, they discussed burning down my country, that with the winds just right in the city it was a matter of cigarette lighters lighting curtains or bedspreads from an open window. They pointed out that snipers would shoot out the tires of all firetrucks. "That in a matter of minutes, most cities would have fires, particularly in old, historic wooden buildings, that would burn an entire city to the ground." This is what the communist had in store for us... even fifty years ago. Can we even imagine what enemies have in store for my country with today's radical groups, armed biologicals, nuclear suitcase bombs? It should be evident to anyone with an IQ above their shoe size that the enemy is invading... across the borders, through every airport terminal. IF, with missiles on top of the White House, sharpshooters and guards around the White House, one man can climb the fence, run across those large plush grounds, get inside our nations home of the president through an unlocked front door, traverse most of the mansion, perhaps the NSA, IRS, CIA, FBI insteal of lowly Americans should spend more time on that type of security. In a time of drugged bureaucrats and political low-lifes (very low men and women in very high places), can there be hope for the survival of hard-working, tax-paying, God-fearing citizens. In recent warfare, since WW1, 90% of all casualties were civilians. The bureaucrats have underground tunnels, most of our men in uniform have weapons but for the rest of us, good luck.

God does not blame anyone for jumping out of a burning building but we all have a hunger for life. We need to get this matter of guilt and shame corrected in our thinking. Babies murdered in the abortion process, kicking and squirming before birth, are anxious for life. Perhaps the female, married or unmarried, who is the only one blessed by God to give birth is ashamed to be an unwed mother, but most victims of abortion would tell you that this is nothing compared to the guilt involved in taking that life. Do we actually think that a holy God of justice will allow a nation so blessed, as has been America, to kill 53 million babies just since the infamous supreme court decision of 1973. To allow a greedy military industrial complex to manufacture weapons that have destroyed so many lives in so many countries, that has provided the God-given chemicals and knowledge to conjure the illegal designer drugs which have left so many lives in shambles. Technology which has brought the worst man can offer into every home (pornography, desensitization to violence) and then think that we will escape, even the Christian's have a responsibility for not allowing the Christian message to be polluted by the Madison Ave. culture and designs of the world.

Technology has made life much better for all of us, but human nature has not changed. We are so busy chasing after fool's gold, the fakery of this world. Perhaps the two matters that bother me most, in regards to dealing with my fellow man. I cannot stand the public spanking of a small child. Give any child, particularly your child, the personal privacy even from a very early age of private discipline. The other traumatic matter at the other end of life, most of the time, the public display of a dead body (remember I did not say a person, I said a body). If a Christian, the person in a far better place, would not return. For the unsaved, death is truly death, emotional scar tissue. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's. This is real gold.