Thoughts on President Trump's Impeachment

Everyone at least twenty-one years old upon reading this has the distinction of being alive during the impeachments of two United States Presidents - Bill Clinton in 1998, and last week, Donald Trump. In 1998, one would have had to look back one hundred-thirty years for the most recent, and first ever, impeachment of a President, when Andrew Johnson was given the dubious distinction in 1868.
We should probably address that word "impeach" - we shouldn't have to, but there are legions of politically vocal people who still don't understand what it means to be impeached. Impeachment is the act of bringing formal charges against an official; it does not mean removal from office. The Senate can vote to acquit or convict, and in the case of conviction, removal from office is the result. Neither Johnson's nor Clinton's case resulted in their removal.

President Richard Nixon was not impeached - he resigned from office in 1974, before articles of impeachment could be formally brought against him (though they were certainly far in the works). Again, this shouldn't have to be explained, but the internet's abundance of politically passionate people who know talking points but not history make it necessary before I express my thoughts on another impeachment.

Speaking of Nixon and history, in hindsight we know that behind the scenes he was cracking under pressure. Those closest to him at the time say he was drinking more, behaving erratically, was paranoid, and losing his composure. Nixon was not the most socially comfortable of individuals, but even for an awkward loner like him, his behavior in the White House was disconcerting for the likes of Alexander Haig and Henry Kissinger. The oft-parodied moment in which Nixon asked Kissinger to get on his knees and pray with him in the Oval Office is where I see the difference between Nixon and Trump - desperation.

Though it's easy for a showman like Trump, who was a television and media veteran long before he entered the White House, to put on a show of total confidence, I don't believe his arrogant defiance of the charges against him, and those who drafted them, is a mask. Trump is a natural celebrity, whereas Nixon, for all the power and publicity of his political career, never adjusted to the spotlight. Trump relishes it.

Nixon made grandiose excuses for his actions, and for his obstruction - "national security," "political containment," "executive privilege," etc. He was also strategic enough to let his aides and speechwriters do most of the PR. Trump however has taken to Twitter, because of course he has, and other outlets to lash out at his opponents. Granted, there was no Twitter in the 1970s, but more camera-ready Presidents had taken to television in moments of controversy - John F. Kennedy addressing and defending the admittance of two black students to the University of Alabama, and even the less charming Lyndon Johnson was almost a TV staple during the Vietnam War. If Donald Trump had been President during the Nixon era, he would have been in every American's living room via television (and in an age where there were three channels, all of which were taken up when the President had a speech to make).

Americans would have missed every episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show thanks to Trump's plethora of TV interruptions.

You may be asking yourself why I'm comparing Nixon and Trump when the former wasn't even impeached. The reason is because Nixon's scandal was perhaps the most detrimental to the American public and its government until 2019. Bill Clinton's affair with an intern and subsequent perjury were heavy matters, but somehow it was business as usual outside of the scandal. Issues within and without the United States were handled with as much vigor as if there had been no trouble at home. For all the seriousness of Clinton's perjury, the sexual overtones and the jokes of it made by endless comedians almost made it feel like a TMZ farce. Which is a shame, given the severity of that situation, but it's not the only political scandal whose implications were unfortunately reduced to comedy (re: the rash of "Epstein didn't kill himself" memes).

In this case, it's not necessarily President Trump's actions involving Ukraine that have consumed the nation, but rather the man himself. He's been on every thinking American's mind at least twice a day from the moment he announced his candidacy and the endless array of controversies and scandals that followed, even before he was elected. Trump is a scandal in himself; everything he does, says, touches, immediately receives notoriety or infamy, like a morbid version of King Midas. Even if one adores him, they can't deny that he is the single most controversial person in the world today, and has been so for over five years. Donald Trump the man is the biggest Presidential scandal since Watergate, overshadowing even Reagan's Contra affair in the 1980s.

The biggest, and most important difference, I see between Nixon and Trump is that Nixon had a moral compass. He didn't seem to use it much, but he had one, and much like having a conscience but not using it, doing wrong while knowing it's wrong can eventually get to a person. Nixon's crumbling and downfall showed this. He would even later admit, albeit not to the degree disappointed Americans wanted, that he made mistakes and misled the nation.

Nixon's resignation was another act of cracking under pressure. In order for him to do so, his psyche had to be manipulated by the closest members of his staff and inner circle so that he would believe the resignation was his decision - as if to say, "you didn't break up with me - I broke up with you."  Such was the state of Nixon's mind at the time, he had to be cajoled into believing it wasn't really the Senate that was taking him out of office, it was him and him alone.

Trump, meanwhile, doesn't need to be manipulated. He truly seems to believe he's done no wrong, and further, doesn't seem to be able to comprehend why he's in trouble in the first place. Whether it's demagoguery or just an inflated ego I'm not sure. But actions speak louder than even the most mealy mouthed of Tweets, and Trump either doesn't comprehend intellectually why he's in this situation, or he genuinely believes he is above the law. To him, the impeachment is a witch hunt, a conspiracy, the act of desperate losers to spite with pettiness what he has literally called "the most successful Presidency" of all time.

Nixon made his accusations, too - Watergate was a witch hunt, and in his increasing paranoia, a huge conspiracy calculated solely against him. But his actions showed that he understood the gravity of his actions. Whereas Trump simply doesn't appear to comprehend them.

Since his election, I'd always surmised that if Donald Trump were to ever face impeachment, were to actually be impeached, or simply land in a situation he couldn't get out of, he would resign from office. I wasn't alone in expecting him to immediately, or inevitably, land in trouble. The reason I expected him to resign and bolt was the memory of how his once-hit reality show The Apprentice reached its end - the same day NBC announced it was canceling the show, Trump announced he was leaving the show. Again a case of "you didn't break up with me - I broke up with you." But unlike Nixon, Trump probably didn't need to be manipulated into thinking it. He seemed to truly believe it.

If revelations of using campaign funds as hush money to a porn star mistress didn't budge Trump, neither will this impeachment, or the circumstances that caused it. I should have known from the Stormy Daniels affair, or from the recordings of Trump boasting that he'd sexually assaulted women, that nothing seems to affect this man's outlook, nor that of his more dogmatic supporters. Granted, I don't know the man. Not that that matters, as I certainly never knew Nixon, Clinton, or Andrew Johnson; but in those cases, we have the lessons and evidence of history to give us a glimpse into their minds during their respective troubles.

With Trump, all I can do is analyze what I see, and what the man himself says. And I see and hear a man devoid of both the ability to see himself in any negative light, and of the wherewithal to understand he's breached serious protocol. To Trump, the protocol either doesn't exist - "a sham" - or it simply doesn't apply to him. Other politicians in hot water may have stated such ridiculous things in their own crises, but inside, they knew better. President Trump does not.

In the legal battle that follows, that mindset will either be his downfall, or it will somehow rescue him.

"Last night, 
I saw the fire spreading to the palace door
The silent majority
Weren't keeping quiet anymore."
-John Fogerty

New novel, "Theodora" - Just a story about a kid who's hurting

I've written a novel, which you can check out here. It's not a political statement; just a story about a kid who's hurting and feels like nobody cares.

Theo Davis sees a counselor for body dysmorphic disorder. She insists her nose is "freakishly huge," and that it's not in her head. When her best friend is killed in a school shooting that stuns her small Nebraska town, her mental health begins to rapidly decline; Theo spirals into depression, anxiety, confusion, and anger, her grief more than she can handle. When she resorts to self-harm, breaking her own nose, Theo is sent to a mental hospital, where she meets teens just like her - in pain, lost, and wondering what it really means to "grow up." She learns the other patients' stories and becomes determined to show them, in the midst of her own pain, that those stories - their lives - are more important than they realize.

The Time I Said Martin Luther Should Burn in Hell Because He Hated Jews

Perhaps the most misunderstood, misused, distorted piece of the entire Bible is Jesus' words, "Do not judge." Many of us who are indignant when someone calls out our questionable or outright ugly deeds are quick to pull these words from our hip pockets, thinking they mean, "don't point out that I'm doing something morally wrong or destructive, because you're not God."
The trouble is, when Jesus instructed us not to "judge," He is not referring to rebuking someone for doing something wrong. If that were so, each of us as believers would be rendered hypocrites each time we bring attention to the President's or some other politician's morally vile deeds and lies. We draw arbitrary lines as to which sins are okay to denounce, and which are not - usually, the line is drawn in front of our own sins, to protect ourselves from criticism and conviction. The Bible plainly teaches us what is right and wrong in God's eyes, that we are to abhor what is evil, and even rebuke a brother or sister should they fall into such behaviors, so long as the plank of hypocrisy doesn't blind our ability to discern.

The "judgment" Jesus condemns among believers is actual judgment - one day, all of us will stand before the Great White Throne of Christ to answer for all things we've done, good or bad (2 Corinthians 5:10). A fact that should delight no Christian, but rather grieve them, is that the unsaved and unrepentant will be sentenced to eternal damnation (Daniel 12:2, Revelation 20:11-15).
Only Christ has the authority to make these judgments and pronounce these sentences; for a human being to declare that someone else should go to hell for their deeds is to try and usurp His righteous judgment, His authority - and His alone - to pronounce punishment.

After all, all of us deserve death, but God gave His Son so that those who accept Him will, by His grace, be saved (John 3:16).

This is what Jesus forbids when He forbids judging another - to declare, "you're going to hell; you're beyond redemption; Jesus' blood is not powerful enough to save you."

I've known this for years, and have been deeply irked when people shriek the words "don't judge me!" when confronted with some unrepentant behavior that goes against God's Word. I've written many things on this subject, harping about it and beating my breast with indignation.
However - gasp - I, a fallible human being stumbled in lack of understanding, committing the very same sin for which I so often denounced others.

2017 marked the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, of which Martin Luther was a pivotal figure. Were it not for God's use of this man, many more would still be misled by the mire of man-made rituals and lies concerning Jesus, the Scripture, the Church. Not that man-made rituals, doctrines of men taught as if they were commandments of God, don't still frustrate the faith of many who seek Jesus. But God used Martin Luther (and countless other heroes of the Church, like John Wycliffe, William Tyndale, John Foxe, to name but a few) in an upheaval of human greed in God's name.

In 2017, my church group began a several weeks-long study of the Luther and the Reformation. Aside from John Foxe's Book of Martyrs, I knew relatively little about many of the heroes of Christian history. So, I did some research on Martin Luther and

gooooood GASH!!!

I was surprised and mortified to find that Luther, for all the truth and wisdom he spoke, for the mighty vessel he had been in the Reformation, was an unrepentant anti-Semite. He held a disdain for Jews, encouraged their fiery persecution, and, though he originally wrote a book aimed at Jews to show them that Jesus was the Messiah for whom they'd waited, he later gave up and wrote an entire book called On the Jews and Their Lies. That's not something I learned in my church group's study. I felt a portrait of a man abundantly superior to other sinners saved by grace had been painted; of all people who should have known that hatred of Jews is wrong, it would be someone who knew the Bible well - someone who had literally translated it!

I went to my one of my fellow Christians, bewildered, asking "what gives?!" I felt a bit dismissed when he replied with a link to an article from The Gospel Coalition that described many other noted theologians who did awful things. But I still felt shocked; I could accept that Martin Luther was a racist - no one, no matter how many mighty works God gives them to do, is infallible. God uses awful people to speak truth and do mighty things all the time (such as yours truly, who - after being saved and having the knowledge that it was wrong - once stole money from my friend's son's piggy bank to buy an ice cream sandwich; and trust me, that's nowhere near the worst thing I've done in my stumbling and backsliding during my walk with Christ). Nonetheless, I felt that Martin Luther's terrible deeds concerning the Jews should be brought to believers' attention in studies of the man, to show how wrong he was, to avoid turning him into an idol against whom no one should speak ill, and to demonstrate, again, that even the mightiest of people are prone to wrong.

After ruminating on the whole thing, I told myself a sad and horrible truth - or what I decided was a truth: Martin Luther, the great teacher of God, will be sentenced to eternal damnation on the Day of Judgment. As someone who encouraged the burning of synagogues, he was, I decided, a ravenous wolf in sheep's clothing. He was the epitome of those described by Jesus in Matthew 7 - those who prophesy, cast out demons, and do many wonders in His name, but who never truly knew Him.

I harbored this feeling for almost two years. My resentment grew deeper toward many Christians whose reverence for the figures of the Reformation is so fervent it's akin to idol worship.

Sometimes, you can read a Bible passage a hundred times, know it by heart, but not truly grasp every jewel of truth it has for us. I'd read Jesus' "Sermon on the Mount" countless times. I'd written and spoken endless diatribes on the true meaning of "judging" and what it entails. But it wasn't until yesterday, quite literally, that I realized I had been judging Martin Luther in a most sinful way.

My judgment of Luther was not in my disappointment and shock that he was an anti-Semite. If I didn't have that feeling of disappointment, what kind of person would I be? Rather, my judgment of Martin Luther was what I'd told myself about his eternal fate; my sin of judgment was that I'd decided he should and will spend eternity in weeping and gnashing of teeth because of his unrepentant hatred.

I, too, declare Jesus' name and the salvation He offers to all people. And I, too, struggle with an abundance of sinful behaviors. I tell myself, "at least I know my sins are wrong; at least I want to do better." But my own righteousness is, as Isaiah 64:6 tells me, filthy rags. I have no right, no wisdom near suitable enough to decide Martin Luther's punishment for condemning Jews. Just as he would have had no right or righteousness near approachable to God's perfection to declare that I should go to hell for the slew of terrible deeds I've done in my life.

There are no doubt countless examples of people who we can observe and study and be certain that that person will not see heaven - the go-to examples of human evil being people like Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, and etc. But there's a vast difference between knowing evil must be punished, and knowing evil can only be punished by God. If He is the only One righteous and perfect who could cleanse us of sin, He is also the only One righteous and perfect to fit the role of assigning our fates and consequences of those sins.

Like Martin Luther, like all of us, I deserve hell. But by the promise and sacrifice of Jesus the Son of God, I've been delivered from that eternal terror. Luther knew this, too. I can rant all I want that he also knew racism to be wrong, that he knew that a Christian who reviles is a Christian to be avoided (1 Corinthians 1 5:9-13). But I, who must adjust my heart, mind, and body to the Holy Scriptures, also know, by the grace of God who softened this sinful skull so that I would understand, that my sentence of Martin Luther to damnation was gross hypocrisy. May it be burned up and remembered no more at my own appearance before Christ:

"For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one's work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one's work, of what sort it is. If anyone's work which he has built on it endures, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire." -1 Corinthians 3:11-15

Jesus Eats With Sinners...And Will Judge Us After the Meal

Jesus ate with sinners. He walked with them, stayed in their homes, touched them and healed their diseases. Jesus eating with sinners is actually the best description of Him, though it was not made in praise, but in derision: "This Man receives sinners and eats with them" (Luke 15:2).
Jesus eating with sinners is what saves us - "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me" (Revelation 3:20).

Jesus did indeed eat with sinners, and still does.

Painting by David Iles (detail)

But, something we must remember about Jesus and us sinners is this - He will also judge us.

"Jesus ate with sinners!" has become almost as misused and misunderstood as "don't judge others" by those of us looking to sound vaguely Biblical when we're called out for doing wrong. When we lustily cry "Jesus ate with sinners!" to defend our unrepentant behavior, we willfully forget that He told the same sinners with whom He ate two thousand years ago that they would not escape the consequences of their rejection of Him:

"Then He began to rebuke the cities in which most of His mighty works had been done, because they did not repent: 'Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I say to you, it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you. And you, Capernaum, who are exalted to heaven, will be brought down to Hades; for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I say to you that it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for you.'" (Matthew 11:20-24).

When Jesus ate with sinners, He was not doing it to be cool, nice, or friendly. Jesus was showing them He loved them so that they would repent. He was likely eating with His mouth full as He taught the people with whom He ate, about Scripture, His Father, about eternal life. Yet if we accept Jesus at our dinner table, yet don't repent and walk with Him after the meal is done, we say, "enjoy the rigatoni, but keep Your mouth shut about my sins, and get out as soon as You've gotten rid of my dirty dishes."

When My Fellow Christians Act Like Absolute Butt-Pheasants

There was an incident at a Bible study some time ago that very much disturbed me. Jeremiah 29:11 was brought up. The verse that says, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

This is a well-known verse, as many Christians hold it as a reminder of God's love, and will often post it on social media, wear it on a T-shirt, or carry it in their wallet. But to my Bible group, that sort of thing was absurd; something only a total noob would do.

"Ha!" one scoffed. "They think that verse is about them!"

"They don't even get the context!" another remarked.

"Hey, hey - I'm gonna put a Bible verse out of context on a coffee mug just like those Christians do, but it'll be one of the dark ones. Like 'I will dig your grave, for you are vile!' Lolololol!"

And on they went like that.

Context is very important in Scripture. Not understanding that leads to a lot of unfair, and without citing proper context, hollow and inaccurate, criticisms and misunderstandings about the Bible. It can also lead to the schemes of the Joel Osteens of the world. This particular verse in Jeremiah expressed God's love for those of Judah who had been exiled to Babylon in the sixth century BC as punishment for their unrepentant idol worship.

However, it is important to note that verses written to a specific person or group of people in the Bible can parallel and echo God's truth that applies to all of us today.

Even a verse like that in Nahum, when God tells Nineveh, "I will dig your grave, for you are vile," though written as a warning to a violent kingdom oppressing the Jews, is still a reminder that vengeance is the Lord's, and He will bring unrepentant evildoers to punishment.

Heaven forbid a Christian read a Bible verse like Jeremiah 29:11 and be reminded of God's love and faithfulness, and know that He still holds those same qualities in the twenty-first century. 

What if a new believer had heard my Bible group say these snarky, condescending things? They would most likely be confused and hurt, maybe even driven away from the Gospel completely, as is the case with many new Christians whose fellow believers acted so snobbishly.

If anyone reading this has ever been hurt by Christians who have made arrogant remarks such as these, or have done worse, please don't judge the Gospel, or even God, by their deeds. He loves you, welcomes you, and His Holy Spirit longs to guide you and love you - without the butt-pheasantry of the more self-assured and pompous of your brothers and sisters in Christ.

Poem: Breakfast With Saucy Jack

I got a standing breakfast date with Saucy Jack 

every morning at the same time, around dawn, 

as hell's bells cease to chime and I hear the 

bells of Old Bailey (that's an England thing 

for you Yanks). Jack never tries to pay me, 

and he never says thanks. The deal is, he 

tells me about life, things gritty and ugly 

and hard, things that made King George crack - 

and I don't tell Scotland Yard his name ain't really Jack.

I know what he's been doing all night, 

but I've never said I knew. But this morning, 

the severed kidney in his pocket killed my 

appetite (I wager it would yours too), so 

I ask my friend Jack, face to face, if only 

out of spite because my breakfast went to waste:
"Jack, how can you do what you do every night?"

"It's easy, boss," he says, "you pick the ones 

nobody wants - you can usually tell 'cos they 

got no teeth - pick a simpleminded one, a 

drunk one wobbly on her feet, and wear a 

dark coat so no one sees you run."

"I don't mean that, Jack. I mean, don't it bother 

you to kill?"
"Nah, mate; if they ain't human, it ain't murder. 

If I don't slice 'em, the Tories will."

"But don't you think it's a sin? Don't you think they matter?"
"It's a sin to starve in the East End, all the while Her Majesty gets fatter."

I don't bother to argue or tell him two wrongs 

don't make a right. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"Mate, you know I never sleep a wink."

He's late for a meeting in Parliament and has to find a sink. 

Jack asks me to mail a letter and promise not to tell. 

It's a letter to the police, saying they'll never catch him, 

they're far too late, and it says it's sent 

"From Hell."

Jack puts on his coat and heads for Westminster. 

I tell him I'll mail his note, afraid he won't be my friend 

if I don't. I'm tempted to tell the Prime Minister, but it 

would do no good - he's the one who signed the bill 

Preacher Booth called a license to kill.

Tonight, below my room on Mitre Square, I hear 

a scream. I think of Saucy Jack - if she ain't human, 

what does it matter? I pretend it's all a dream, I pretend 

I'm not a coward, all the while a toothless nobody is 

sliced and overpowered. A little while passes, it's quiet 

on the Square; she ain't human, I think, 

why should anybody care?

Like clockwork, I hear a call for help and a 

peeler carriage clink and clatter.
Like a postcard from hell, my heart receives a message - 

"she ain't human; what's it matter?"

The Unfair Gospel of Jesus

Infamous serial killer, cannibal, and necrophiliac Jeffrey Dahmer accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior just two years or so before he himself was murdered in prison in 1994. For a life lived in disbelief, for well over a decade of murder and gruesome, vile acts upon other human beings, Jeffrey Dahmer served just over three years in custody before, according to the facets of the Christian Gospel, he was sent to the eternal bliss of Paradise. A saint simply being one who is in Christ, Jeffrey Dahmer holds the same title as Billy Graham.

This is unfair. The families of Dahmer's victims, who hoped to see him locked behind bars - and worse - received less than an ounce of justice when you consider Dahmer's short prison term on Earth, and the Gospel's promise that he, having accepted Christ, has been given eternal life with God.

The Gospel is a beautiful Gospel, but it's also a difficult one, a gritty one, a gory one, and by the standards of us fleshly creatures, a very unfair Gospel.

Jeffrey Dahmer's crimes may be unique in their exceptionally bizarre and heinous nature, but his circumstances as a whole are not. Multitudes and multitudes of sinners like Dahmer, like me, like you, have accepted the salvation offered by Jesus Christ through His sacrifice on the cross, and our crimes have been washed away, expunged from our records. We were not punished, we were not stoned to death by the congregation, not swallowed up by the earth, not plundered and torn apart by Babylonian invaders.

I, as the 57th worst sinner who ever lived, am not sorry for this. I feel no guilt or shame that I've been rescued from my sins while having paid no price for it to be so. I regret the price I made others pay in my sinful behavior, but the One who removed those crimes from my record doesn't desire that I wallow in shame and misery over it. He is faithful to give me tasks and duties to glorify Him, to live a life in light rather than the one I lived in darkness. But He's not required me to roll in ashes and beat my breast, declaring what miserable, rotten things I've done; He's not required me to pay a monetary tax as penance to keep me in His embrace.

This is grossly unfair. But if it's any consolation to the outside observer, God played by His own unfair rules when He came to Earth in the flesh and suffered just like you and I do.

He endured temptation, but was without sin. He faced scorn, ridicule and plots against His life, though He had done no wrong, though He had brought an abundance of good in His ministry. He endured every day frustrations and agonies like you and me. And, He was tried and condemned, though without sin, and executed in the most agonizing way possible. A true criminal, an insurrectionist named Barabbas, was meanwhile set free.

While He was fastened by nails to that ominous cross, slowly dying, a criminal crucified next to Him groaned in his own agony that this Man from Galilee had done nothing wrong, and asked the He remember him when He came into His kingdom - if the criminal even knew just what that meant.

The condemned sinless One declared to the condemned rotten one, "Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise."

For all his years of habitual offenses and recklessness, a few hours of faith in the One who shows grace and mercy brought the unknown criminal to eternal life where there is no more pain, decay, sorrow or death.

There is no way around it - the Gospel of grace is an unfair Gospel.

drawing by Albert Servaes

"'Take what is yours and go your way. I wish to give to this last man the same as to you'...So the last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few chosen."
-Jesus Christ, Matthew 20:14, 16

Poem: "Shangra Lah" (In the Wake of Sri Lanka & Christchurch)

Sri Lanka sounds so exotic
Christchurch is too sacred to say
The only bloodshed I know is in
Cochise County and this ratty paperback about Khe Sanh
So I'll give an exotic name to the space under my bed
When I hide there, from your bombs and bullets,
I'll feel cultured in the dark
I'll feel far away, part of a UN assembly to solve it all
I'll call it Shangra Lah; that's what I'll call
the dark under my bed
I'm the US Ambassador to Shangra Lah
It sounds so exotic, someplace they find rare pearls
I must have heard it in a song
or another worn out war book with outdated maps
I'll be in Shangra Lah when you need me
If you want my thoughts on Peru or the President
you'll have to wait - I'm on diplomatic business,
deep in the dark of Shangra Lah.

-Bud Sturguess,
April 24, 2019

Poem: "Peckerwood Hill"

You don't know much yet -
you don't know laws or judges, priests or rites
You don't even know the words to "Hey Jude"
But today, today is your birthday
Conceived by cousins and poorly sculpted
by the cosmos

The doctors -
Oppenheimer, Kevorkian, and a nurse from Buchenwald,
they've all taken the oath -
welcome you to the world
and do what love will never have a chance to do -
they stop your heart

They won't send you, what they can't use of you,
expendable outlaw,
to Peckerwood Hill -
that crowded concrete orchard in Texas
full of executed killers and three-strike scoundrels
who wasted away in the infirmary
Their brothers ceased to speak their names
the day the verdict came down,
the day the warrant was signed
So to Peckerwood Hill they went
unclaimed, unloved, unnamed,
to await the Resurrection and a brand new trial

But you, birthday boy,
Peckerwood Hill is not for you
That's for human beings,
forgotten, discarded as they were
You're less, so you'll be put somewhere less
Dissected, photographed
Maybe a jar of formaldehyde is the best they'll do for you

Today is your birthday and I cannot promise you a thing
No fairy tales, no fables, no lullabies
Not even a crowded garden of rocks called Peckerwood Hill -
that's only for us killers and thieves

-by Bud Sturguess

Matter of Record: Tim Keller Quote Used in My Book

Uh-oh... today I saw this Timothy Keller quote on Twitter:
"The church is not a museum for pristine saints, but a hospital ward for broken sinners."
I wrote something extremely similar to this in one of my books, Sheep Named Spike. I've never read Tim Keller's books, so I'm thinking maybe I saw it quoted somewhere else and it stayed in my subconscious. The first version of my book was published in 2015, and I'm guessing Mr. Keller wrote that statement before then (though I haven't checked). How embarrassing for me. Buuuuuut I know he won't sue me because 1 Corinthians 6 forbids Christians from suing other Christians! HA! YEET!
Anyway, I'm posting this for what it's worth, in the rare event my book ever takes off, to acknowledge my accidental plagiarism. My apologies to Mr. Keller, and kudos for writing such a poignant statement!

-Bud Sturguess
January 18, 2019

Stop Saying "If You Don't Vote, You Don't Get To Complain"

An argument often used to persuade people to vote is the cliche, "If you don't vote, you don't get to complain!"
Though voting is a great thing that should surely be embraced and exercised, this expression is not the way to win over a cynic, for three reasons:

1. The expression doesn't reflect a love of democracy - only a love of complaining.

2. It tells the potential political proselyte that voting inherently leads to disappointment and, again, complaining. It makes them wonder, "if my vote helps anything, why am I being told I'm sure to be disillusioned and complain?"

3. Sometimes, it makes no sense to complain even if you did vote. For example, in 2012 I voted for President Obama. Later, I was very much against his decision to militarily involve the US in Syria. But, how could I complain? I helped put him in office. My vote helped keep him in the job!

Voting is a right we mustn't take for granted. But, like fear mongering or guilt tripping, some tactics we use to promote that right do more harm than good. Some talking points don't make much sense: we've repeated them so often without really thinking about them. If voting is so important - and it is - our efforts to persuade others to take part in the process mustn't be anchored by angry, shopworn expressions.

* - My vote for Obama only contributed to his re-election in theory - the popular vote doesn't matter much in Presidential elections as long as the Electoral College exists.

Why I'm Going To Name My Son Charles Manson

It's no revelation that parents live vicariously through their children. One of the ways they do so that we don't often realize is in the process of naming the child. I think many parents want to give their child a name they wish they'd been given, or at least one less boring than theirs. This is how the planet has wound up with girls named Whisper Wildflower Smith and their brother TroyAikmanFordTundra Jones. Some parents get more inventive and make up a name, giving us the abundance of MacKinzileighs and Brylaylees in the world. And, sometimes, parents have a sadistic streak and want to punish the fetus with a "traditional" name spelled woefully "uniquely" so that the child will grow up with the burden of constantly correcting people: Khourtni, K'Leigh and Thhommass have my sympathy.

(Take this with a grain of salt, as my name is Bud Sturguess, which I've often said sounds like the name of a backwoods worm salesman who runs a secret polygamist cult in his basement.) 

Speaking of parents punishing their children, I've said many times that in His grace God often won't punish us for our sins, but we have no qualms about making others pay for them, This is best exemplified in parents who abandon, neglect and abuse their children, or pass them from relative to relative, guardian to guardian, leaving the child prone for more mistreatment and abuse. In an overwhelming amount of cases, the child grows up feeling unloved and unimportant, and therefore sees the world and everything in it as lacking love or importance, or not being worthy of such. Just the way they were shaped to think by abusive wretches.

This is the case with many notorious criminals and killers in our world. There's no shortage of infamous names associated with depravity and violence whose upbringings were marred by neglect, sexual abuse, and a wealth of other things to which no child should be subject.

A man who often talked about how much he loved children and bemoaned the world's treatment of them - though usually as a dodge to answer questions about his crimes - was Charles Manson, perhaps the most recognizable name in American murder history. There was no doubt Charles Manson was a madman, a remorseless and deluded man who killed and ordered others to kill out of a desire for control over others, and a warped vengeance and hatred for the world he felt had shunned him.

But Charles Manson, murderer and cult leader as he became, was once a child. And like a vast number of adults who develop bloody world views like his, his childhood was rank with abuse and neglect. He was even called "No Name" by his mother, a teenage prostitute, before being given the name Charles, and the surname Manson, after a man to whom his mother was briefly married (who his biological father was remains a definitively unresolved question). In any case, the elder Manson soon disappeared from the young Charles' life. When he was in the custody of his mother, who was in and out of jail, they lived in run-down motel rooms with her male acquaintances, all of them heavy drinkers, until she decided she'd had enough of Charles and allowed him in the hands of a school for boys. When Charles was twelve, he ran away from the school, back to his mother, but she didn't want him. His teenage life was thereafter filled with crimes from petty theft to auto theft. As an adolescent he told the wardens of these jails that he didn't want to leave, feeling there was nothing and no one for him outside the prison walls. As he entered adulthood, Charles Manson's crimes became more and more serious, his jail sentences lengthier and lengthier. 

We know how that life of crime culminated to its bloodiest and most shocking heights in 1969.

It would be presumptuous of me to claim that if Charles Manson had had a stable upbringing he'd have never become the person he became. After all, Ted Bundy had a relatively normal childhood. But there is no doubt that treating a child in such a loveless and cold manner shapes his or her view of the world, and of themselves, and Manson's own words in his many crazed and furious interviews reflect this. Even if he hadn't become the leader of a murderous cult, there's no doubt Charles Manson was shaped for a life of crime. 

The blame doesn't lie with his mother - only with Charles. But his mother did punish her child for her sins. Charles Manson never had a chance in this world from the day he was born. 

When King David of Israel committed adultery with Bathsheba and subsequently conspired to have her husband killed, the name of the prophet who uncovered his sin and rebuked him was Nathan. When we read the genealogies of David and of Jesus, we see that one of David's sons was named Nathan. I can't help but think that each time David called Nathan's name, he was stung by the memory of what he'd done, of the life he destroyed by his lust and selfishness. The name must have been a heavy reminder for the king. Painful, even. And that's not always a bad thing.

So, despite not being great with kids, and despite being unable to produce any of my own due to a particularly hellacious game of Twister in 2013, I've resolved to name my son, if I ever have one, Charles Manson Sturguess (pending wife approval - I suppose I'll need to find one of those, too).
I want to be reminded every time I call his name, every time I tell him to get down off of the furniture, every time I tell him I'm proud of him, every time I tell him I'm disappointed in him, every time I tell him he can be a great man someday, that I have a responsibility to give this kid a chance. To give him everything he needs to survive, but also everything he needs to thrive, to be reminded he's loved, cherished, and irreplaceable. I want to remember the Charles Manson who had none of these things, so that it will never leave my heart to treasure my Charles Manson.

I'm not one who believes in teaching children they're inherently "amazing." I would teach my child that he or she (Charlotte Manson, I suppose) is one of a kind and show them they're loved abundantly, but until they cure Alzheimer's or invent some innovative longer-lasting urinal cake, I won't teach them they're "amazing" by simply being themselves. But even if Charles Manson Sturguess grows up to be a garbageman - which is a noble profession, so drop your elitism - and no astronaut or world leader, I hope that I will have done my best to teach him even in his humble position that he is loved. That he is valued by God, by his parents, by others around him. That Jesus gave His life for him. I hope that I will have done my best to teach him that no matter how bland or average he may see himself, there is only one of him - God made only one Charles Manson Sturguess, just as He made only one Charles Manson. I hope that the name given to him will remind me to encourage and teach him to teach him to use his life, no matter how drab or how fascinating it may be, to make wise choices, to use his breath and time for good and not for evil.

If it takes naming him Charles Manson to remind myself in the most heated and frustrated moments of parenting that I'm responsible for loving, cherishing, and shaping this human being, so be it. Maybe someday your neighborhood garbageman will be Charlie Sturguess. Or, maybe the fifty-fifth President of the United States will be remembered in history books as Charles M. Sturguess (glossing over the Manson part for the same reason Barack Obama never went by Barack Hussein Obama).

In either case, in either profession, I hope to give him the chance that so many never had. And may his name remind me of those who weren't given the chance. And if I never have a son, may God lead me to do more for children who are in the same position Charles Milles Manson was when he too was just a lonesome, loveless child.