Lift Up Your Hearts!

I'm not the kind of person who attends demonstrations, or pretty much any large-crowd events. I went to exactly one major rock concert in my life—Jefferson Airplane, at the Rochester War Memorial, when I was in college. I took it all in stride, but it certainly was not an experience I wished to repeat. When I lived in Philadelphia, I attended one Phillies game (in Connie Mack Stadium!), and one Sixers game, but if and when I attend sporting events, I much prefer smaller venues. Preferably with family members on the field.

In 1968, I stood in front of a movie theater with other Democrats and waved a sign and handed out flyers for Hubert Humphrey; about a decade later I joined other prolife demonstrators lining the streets of Rochester, holding signs and cheering the drivers as they expressed their solidarity. I'm pretty sure that was the extent of my activism; I mean, I was a college student in the early 70's, and never protested the Vietnam War, nor burned my bra, nor participated in a single sit-in! I was in college to learn, and hopefully not waste my parents' money and my time.

Large-group events, especially protests, can be dangerous places. You can find yourself unintentionally in the middle of a counter-demonstration with bad blood between participants. You could be caught up in a false-flag operation designed to cause trouble. If you were merely an open-mouthed spectator in Washington, DC on Epiphany, 2021, you could find yourself in jail, and if you were in Tiananmen Square at the wrong time in 1989, you could find yourself dead.

No thank you. Not my thing.

However, there have been two recent events that I really wished to attend in person. One, the Canadian truckers' Freedom Convoy and celebration/protest in the middle of a frigid Ottawa winter.

The other is yet to come: The Rescue the Republic - Join the Resistance event in Washington, DC on Sunday, September 29, 2024. That's only 10 days away!

No matter what you may think you know from mainstream media about the Freedom Convoy and subsequent events in Ottawa, I can pretty much assure you it is wrong. We watched hours and hours of Viva Frei's live, man-on-the-street coverage of every day of the Ottawa part of the event, and it was the most beautiful, most diverse, and most peaceful event I've ever seen or heard of. It was awe-inspiring, and I've given it a whole category to itself here.

The Rescue the Republic—Join the Resistance rally has the potential to be just as remarkable.

I have much to say about this event, such as the philosophy, the goals, the lineup, and what other people have had to say about it, but I'll space it out over several posts, hoping to avoid the TL;DR effect. If you're too curious to wait, there's a lot more at https://jointheresistance.org/.

Why is our Republic worth preserving? What is the West?

At its heart, it is an agreement to distribute opportunity as widely as possible. Today, the foundation that makes up the West is under attack. This moment demands radical change and requires liberals, conservatives, and independents of every color and creed to unify to rescue the West.

Let’s come together to celebrate the essence of what makes America and the West so special. A message of peace, love and unity is at the heart of this celebration.

Rescue the Republic: Join the Resistance will kick off at 12pm on Sunday, September 29th.

The stage will be located northeast of the WWII Memorial (east of 17th Street) and open viewing will extend all the way to the Washington Monument. The program will consist of a mix of musical artists, comedians and thought leaders who alternate in a fast-paced program.

Barring some extraordinary, unexpected event, we won't be able to be there in person, even though I'm pretty sure that if we lived in the DC area I'd conquer my aversion to crowds to be part of what I hope to be a great moment in history. At least I've done the really important part already:

I bought the t-shirt.

I've started a new category, which I've called "Heroes." Here's the first post. It's not the most important, but it's the first—so I guess it is the most important until I post the next one. Not all heroes carry swords; not all die pulling children from burning buildings. Some just do what they know they have to do, and take the consequences.

This is the story of Andrew Klavan (14 minutes). He's one of the multitude of entertainment culture characters that I've never heard of; from the long list of his books and screenplays, I know that's my fault and not his. Two things stand out to me as he recounts his experiences in Hollywood: (1) His calm but firm refusal to compromise his ethical beliefs despite the threat of great financial loss, and (2) Whatever wise decisions (unnamed) that he made in advance of his time of trial that buttressed his resolve not to give in, through confidence that he and his family could weather the economic storm.

Every person, every sermon, every book has something of value to offer to those who will listen with a discerning heart and mind. I am fond of repeating my own aphorism: The wise man recognizes truth even in the words of his enemies. How much more so in the rest of the world?

At the same time, we find ourselves attaching too much value to the words of people we admire. We have much to learn from those with whom we already agree on important issues, but at least with our "enemies" we know to be cautious. It is so human to want to find a path and stick with it, to find the "one right way" to approach a situation and shut our eyes to alternatives and to information that might contradict what we think we know. With complex issues, such as childrearing, health care, charitable giving, education, foreign policy, economics, even personal organization, rigidly following the advice of others often leads to disaster.

I'm not saying that there's no such thing as a "right path," nor that truth is subjective, as so many people want to insist—but that people, even the wisest, best-educated, and most experienced people, are still fallible human beings and make really lousy gods.

Our own knowledge, experience, and thoughts don't necessarily show us the right way, either, and for the same reason. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." Nonetheless, those are the tools we're given and we need to make the most of them.

Listen to others, seek many counsellors, be happy to learn from them—but never stop thinking for yourself. Make the effort to compare what others say with what you know from living your own life. After all, the day is coming, and now is, when those others might actually be "human bots" paid to spread falsehoods and stir up trouble, or AI (Artificial Intelligence or Automated Idiocy, take your pick) doing the same.

On June 8, 2023, we were in Gdansk, Poland. It was just for a day, and Gdansk was not for the most part a particularly pleasant city to visit. Poland has had more of a struggle than, say, East Germany in the aftermath of winning its freedom back in the 1980's, and Gdansk is far less clean and modern than the former East Berlin.

However, Gdansk was as moving and as inspiring as Berlin, where we had touched remnants of the Berlin Wall and stood at the site of Checkpoint Charlie. Arguably, Poland led the revival that liberated Eastern Europe, and it was an awesome experience to see the Gdansk shipyard where the Solidarity Movement had its beginnings.

An unexpected additional blessing was that we were in Gdansk for the Feast of Corpus Christi, and we were vividly reminded that in Poland during the Soviet era, the Catholic Church resisted the assaults on Christianity more successfully than in most other Eastern European countries, and that the Church's leadership and courage was a major factor in their liberation.

It came as a complete surprise to us, walking around the city, suddenly to find ourselves in the middle of their Corpus Christi Day procession, and what a moving experience that was. Even with all the tourists (like us) milling around and taking pictures. (I was not so moved as not to notice the very clever sound system, with speakers strategically placed throughout the procession to keep everyone together. I've been in too many much, much smaller Palm Sunday services, in which the tail of the procession gets hopelessly and painfully out of sync with the head, not to appreciate this innovation.)

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed!
Alleluia!

Easter was not a surprise, nor an afterthought, nor a Plan B.  In the drama of Holy Week, all scenes—from Palm Sunday through Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday—point toward the climax of the story:  Easter.  The Author includes some dark, excruciating (literally) moments, but the triumphant last scene is never out of His sight.

Jesus Christ is ris′n today, Alleluia!
Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!
Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia!
Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!

Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia!
Unto Christ, our heav'nly King, Alleluia!
Who endured the cross and grave, Alleluia!
Sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia!

But the pains which He endured, Alleluia!
Our salvation have procured, Alleluia!
Now above the sky He′s King, Alleluia!
Where the angels ever sing. Alleluia!

It is said that someone once asked Martin Luther, "Why do you preach salvation by faith alone, week after week after week?"

"Because," Luther replied, "You forget it week after week after week."

In that spirit, it's time to bring back once again this much-needed, and clearly forgotten, scene from A Man for All Seasons.

Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.

I don't remember where I saw this quote recently, but it illustrates how a piece of advice can look good at first glance, fall apart when you think about it, and yet still leave you with something positive.

It was attributed to Abraham Lincoln, but that's probably one of those common internet mistakes of finding an interesting saying and giving it strength by attributing it to someone you respect. For one thing, Lincoln no doubt chopped down many trees in his youth, but I doubt any of them took him six hours. Plus, who spends four hours sharpening an axe? I don't have much experience with axes, but I know that knives are more useful with more frequent, shorter sharpenings. Follow the advice of "Lincoln," and I should think you'd end up grinding away much of your axe, and still finding it dull before the job was done.

And yet ... the point about the importance of preparation is a good one.

Maybe the moral of the story is not to dissect too thoroughly words meant to inspire and encourage. Discern the wheat and let the wind take the chaff.

This isn't the post I had planned for today, but it seems timely.

Lift Up Your Hearts! is an eclectic blog, and I don't apologize for that. With death and disaster (largely self-inflicted, I fear) threatening on every side, sometimes I feel I should do more screaming from the rooftops. I try to seek and speak the truth and proclaim what I learn, with sources if I can, so that others may be aware and make up their own minds about important things.

Maybe it is trivial in such a situation to write about genealogy, or making beautyberry syrup, or the antics of our grandchildren, or random thoughts. But then again, these are the "sensible and human things" and need to be remembered.

The same guy who brought you the 18-Minute Cabin had an old, broken down pop-up camper that he decided to renovate from the ground up. I know a few people who might find the work interesting; I know I did. (44 minutes, does well at 2x speed.)

I've really enjoyed his YouTube channel, black spruce. Perhaps it's the uncertainty of life these days that makes me especially appreciate people with these kinds of skills. Either that, or I just like watching other people work. :)

The builders in our family might enjoy this video.  I'm not a builder, but I loved watching this cabin-in-the-woods go together in 18 minutes.  That is, a 36-minute video watched at 2x speed.  The actual project took about a month.

If you liked this one, you can see more of the story here.

For all men who were ignorant of God were foolish by nature; and they were unable from the good things that are seen to know him who exists, nor did they recognize the craftsman while paying heed to his works;  but they supposed that either fire or wind or swift air, or the circle of the stars, or turbulent water, or the luminaries of heaven were the gods that rule the world. 

If through delight in the beauty of these things men assumed them to be gods, let them know how much better than these is their Lord, for the author of beauty created them.  And if men were amazed at their power and working, let them perceive from them how much more powerful is he who formed them.  For from the greatness and beauty of created things comes a corresponding perception of their Creator. 

Yet these men are little to be blamed, for perhaps they go astray while seeking God and desiring to find him.  For as they live among his works they keep searching, and they trust in what they see, because the things that are seen are beautiful. 

Yet again, not even they are to be excused;  for if they had the power to know so much that they could investigate the world, how did they fail to find sooner the Lord of these things?

– Wisdom of Solomon 13:1-9 RSVCI

Tomorrow will still come, our objectives have not changed, and our number one job is to work toward tomorrow and those objectives. — Warren R. Langdon

I am the family curator of my father's journals, written between 1959 and 1970. It's still on my List to get them into a form more accessible to his descendants; so far I've only managed to get all the pages scanned as jpg's. It would be great for them to be searchable, but while my father was an engineer, by handwriting he could have been a physician, and Google Lens' OCR hasn't been up to the challenge.

The scanned pages do make it easy for me to browse through them, which I like to do on occasion. Recently I was curious to see what my father had had to say about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. I remember the event, because I heard about it on the radio at the eye doctor's office, but I wasn't in school that day so I missed whatever excitement might have occurred there. Any direct impact on my life was nil, so I was interested in what might have gone on that my 11-year-old self simply ignored. The following excerpts are all I could find that my father wrote.

Friday, November 22, 1963

This is the day that President Kennedy was shot and killed. I was at the door of my office for some reason when I saw several people head for Wally Giard’s radio. I went along to see what was going on and heard the news that the President had been shot. I don’t know why the radio was on—I have never seen it on except for the World Series—perhaps someone’s wife telephoned in the news. Work continued more or less as usual during the afternoon, although most everyone had an ear glued to the radio, too. My own reaction was one of shocked disbelief—the same reaction I had 18 years ago one afternoon at work when word came that President Roosevelt had died.

Of course the entire evening was spent keeping up to date on the latest news and the radio and television stations kept up a continuous coverage, cancelling all their regular programs until at least after the funeral. I did manage to get quite a bit of studying done tonight as well.

Sunday, November 24, 1963

The church was somewhat more crowded than usual—attributable directly to the President’s death, I believe—but by no means overflowing. The minister made moderate reference to the President’s death and I felt very much in agreement with him when he said that at this time when we look for signs as to whether this is a time for sorrow or supplication, for fear or hope, for a feeling of loss or a feeling of opportunity, the one sign that is clear is that God is not dead. I think this is a better way of putting my feeling that tomorrow will still come, our objectives have not changed, and our number one job is to work toward tomorrow and those objectives.

And that's what keeps the world going. We go on, putting one foot in front of the other, doing our best at whatever we have been called to do.

It's not often we go to a movie theater. Seriously. I may have forgotten something, but I believe the last time we did so was in 2016, to see "Sully." But yesterday I couldn't resist venturing out for "Sound of Freedom."

Why? Well, for one thing, the subject—modern-day slavery and human trafficking—sounded important and serious and worth spending time on.  I look at the ads for so many movies these days and they sound boring at best. For another, I unexpectedly caught an interview with Tim Ballard, the real-life hero upon whom the film is based, and then later another with Jim Caviezel, the actor who portrays him. Ballard was a Homeland Security agent who quit his job of bringing down paedophiles in order to focus on rescuing their victims. I'm generally leery of movies that are "based on a true story," because they are so often inaccurate, but over and over again, Ballard would say, "yes, that really happened," or "that's actually understated," and he obviously approves of the film. Caviezel's interview was inspiring as well.

Perhaps the largest factor driving my desire to see "Sound of Freedom" was the surprising, even virulent opposition to the movie from sources I would have expected to cheer any effort to bring light into the deep darkness of slavery, kidnapping, human trafficking, and the exploitation of children. Unfortunately, that seemed to fit into a pattern I've been observing recently, that of downplaying the very existence of modern-day slavery, and pushing the idea that sex workers especially, even children, are voluntary participants in the business. Since no sane observer of human nature and human history could possibly really believe that, I had to see what it was that had generated such fierce opposition.

The only conclusion I can come to is that either (1) evil is now, if not worse than at any point in human history, at least more generally accepted by ordinary people as normal, or (2) there are a lot of rich and powerful people who have a great interest in the sex-slave trade. Probably both.

Even suggesting that is likely to get you labelled as a "conspiracy theorist"; as the makers of "Sound of Freedom" have learned. My opinion has always been that there's no need to call conspiracy anything that can be explained by mere human stupidity, but these days I'm seriously considering making myself a t-shirt that proclaims, "The Conspiracy Theorists Were Right."

Anyway, "Sound of Freedom" has my highest recommendation. Those who are accustomed to the ultra-fast-paced movies of today might find a few scenes a bit slow, but that didn't trouble me at all. The film is rated PG-13, which is pretty mild considering the subject matter. It's a story about a very dark and evil subject, but is nonetheless filled with goodness and hope. That's hard to beat.

Go ahead, do yourself a favor. See "Sound of Freedom." I'm not sure how young an age group should see it. Definitely our three oldest grandchildren could, but for younger than that it might be too intense. Probably PG-13 isn't a bad guideline.

It's not an easy film to watch, especially for parents and grandparents, but it's a good one.