Search & Rescue

Search & Rescue
 Search & Rescue - Audio/Visual

When Jesus got to the tree, he looked up and said, "Zacchaeus, hurry down. Today is my day to be a guest in your home." Zacchaeus scrambled out of the tree, hardly believing his good luck, delighted to take Jesus home with him. Everyone who saw the incident was indignant and grumped, "What business does he have getting cozy with this crook?" (Luke 19:5-7)

The following is an excerpt from an actual letter received by the IRS a few years ago: “Enclosed you will find a check for $150. I cheated on my income tax return last year and have not been able to sleep ever since. If I still have trouble sleeping I will send you the rest.”

Zacchaeus, in the context of the Luke account, was a high-ranking IRS agent who didn’t cheat on his taxes, but on everyone else’s. He had figured out a way to squeeze the last drop from other people’s wallets, and then skim money off the top for his efforts. In fact, he had become a man of some prominence, albeit for the wrong reasons. In Hebrew, his name meant “pure” or “righteous.” Talk about an oxymoron. As a tax collector, he worked for the Roman government and was considered a traitor by his fellow Jewish citizens. The fact that he worked for Rome’s IRS spoke volumes about his priorities – he was more interested in money than anything, or anyone else. But Zack was more than just an IRS agent; he was the “chief” tax collector. In other words, he was in charge of all the other IRS agents and took a cut, or “commission,” from every agent who collected taxes under his supervision. On top of the collection pyramid, Zack would stuff his pockets with money before he sent the required taxes on to the Roman government.

And Jericho was a great place to live if you were an IRS agent. There were lots of people coming in and out of the city on their way to Jerusalem for the Passover. In fact, Jericho was considered the “tax capital” of Palestine, the center of a vast trade network that extended from Damascus to Egypt. Even better, Zack was in charge of one of only three tax offices in the whole country. Not surprisingly, he was filthy rich. But he was a renegade in the eyes of his own people, and thought of about as fondly as a drug lord for the Sinaloa drug cartel. In the minds of most, tax collectors were akin to murderers, adulterers, robbers, or other “sinners.” There was hardly a life form more offensive than these traitors. But tax collectors were not new to Jesus. In fact, early on in His ministry, Jesus had attracted and, worse yet, even eaten with these guys. (Luke 5:30)

But despite Zack’s wealth and success, something was missing. And if we’re completely honest with ourselves, we all know that there’s more to life than just trying to make money so we can buy stuff. And Zack had everything money could buy, but there was still this void, this emptiness, in his life. And that’s when he thought about Jesus. Zack had this need to see Jesus. But it wasn’t a need to just see Jesus; it was a need to see who Jesus was. For whatever reason, Zack wanted to figure out what it was that made Jesus different from everybody else. Kind of like a moth to a flame, I suppose, Zack was drawn to this man who had just given sight to the blind beggar on the outskirts of Jericho. Now, this same healer was walking through his town. Zack may not have fully understood what was going on in his heart, but he had a desperate need to get to Jesus.

Zack had a couple of problems that day, however. The first was his height. Now, there’s nothing wrong about being short, but with the crowds pressing in there was just no way for him to get close enough to Jesus. And maybe it was just as well – in a large crowd like that there could have been a few unhappy taxpayers who may have wanted to take out their frustrations on Zack. His second problem was spiritual – his sins were keeping him from Jesus. Isaiah 59:2 says that “… our iniquities (sin) have separated us from God.” So, not only was Zack vertically challenged, but he couldn’t measure up to God’s standards either. In other words, he was short on integrity and tall on sin.

But you’ve got to hand it to him – the guy was resourceful. He may have been short, but he wasn’t slow. Figuring he couldn’t see Jesus through the crowd, he’d have to come up with another idea. And that’s when it hit him.  “Hey, if I run ahead of Jesus, and perch myself in that old sycamore-fig tree, I can have a bird’s eye view of the guy.” So, that’s exactly what he did. But it must have been hilarious to watch him. First, it was really undignified for a rich man to run anywhere, even from a burning house. But a rich guy running so that he could shimmy up a tree? Maybe he even fell a couple of times, or broke a few branches. I don’t know, but the crowd probably thought the weasel was out of his mind.

So, just as Zack had planned it, Jesus comes walking by and sees Zack. We don’t know why. Maybe Zack was hollering at Jesus, or maybe his feet were dangling down making him impossible to miss, or maybe Zack was whistling at Jesus. Or, maybe, Jesus was searching for Zacchaeus, instead. All we know is that Jesus stopped, looked up, called him by name, and told him that he was coming over for dinner. You see, Jesus knew right where Zack was because he knew all about Zack – and loved him anyway. So, he tells Zack, “Get out of the tree, Zack. And I mean right now!” (There’s always been a sense of urgency about following Jesus.) And can you imagine what must have been going through the minds of the crowd who were walking with Jesus that day? “Hey, how does Jesus know that guy’s name?” And, “Doesn’t Jesus know the guy’s a thief and a crook?” But then, making matters worse, Jesus invites himself over to the dirt bag’s house for dinner. “Did you hear that, Martha? Jesus is going to eat with that scum; disgusting!”

Zacchaeus didn’t waste any time getting out of the tree, either. Jesus said, “Jump,” and Zack jumped. He came down right away and enthusiastically welcomed Jesus into his house. And wouldn’t you? Let’s face it, Zack got way more than he asked for: he just wanted to get a closer look at Jesus, and now Jesus is coming over to his place for dinner. At this, the crowd starts getting hostile. If they weren’t confused before, they’re going ballistic now when they hear he’s having dinner at Zack’s place. And it wasn’t just a few of the folks who were mumbling; it was everyone, maybe even Jesus’ disciples. It’s kind of interesting that the word used to describe their grumbling in this case is the same word used to describe the Israelites in the desert when they were complaining to God – about everything.

Now, at this point, we might want to criticize the crowd for their response; this is Jesus we’re talking about. But how many times do we react in a similar way? Let’s face it, we’re all guilty of measuring people on the “not-so-bad” to the “really bad” scale. So, we might have been just as upset if Jesus, instead of eating with us (because we’re in the “not-so-bad” category), were to drop in for dinner with one of the “really bad” people. It’s so easy for us to think that we’re better than others – that our sin is somehow not as bad as somebody else’s. But sin is sin, and we’ve all sinned. (Rom 3:23).

In a word, Jesus had Zack at “Hello.” Zack was probably converted during his salad. He knew he was a sinner and that he had come to the Savior for salvation. So, Zack pushes himself away from the table and says to Jesus, “I’m going to give half my wealth to the poor, and if I’ve cheated anyone out of anything, I’ll pay it back times four.” Biblical repentance, depending upon the circumstance, can go hand-in-hand with restitution because conversion is a radical, life-changing event. And Zack’s a different person now. The man who’d felt small his whole life, has suddenly become a “big” man.

And pay particular attention to Zack’s expression of his changed heart. His responses stand out in view of cultural and religious expectations of the day. For instance, it was considered extremely generous to give 20% of your money away – he gave 50%. And when he made restitution at the rate of 400% of the amount he had originally stolen, he was following the standard required in the Jewish law when a sheep had been stolen and a man was convicted of its theft at trial. (Exodus 22:1) Now if he had “confessed” it himself, without being found out, he was only required to restore what was stolen, and then add 20%. (Numbers 5:6-7) But Zack’s repentance was obvious in that he responded as if he had been proven guilty of the crime. In other words, Zack was sold out and wanted to right his wrongs.

We sometimes think we’re generous if we give God 10% of our income. But the mark of Zack’s transformation was his staggering generosity. His money was everything to him before he met Jesus. But now, after his conversion, money takes a back seat and becomes something to be given away. It was Albert Schweitzer who said, “If you own something that you cannot give away, then you don’t own it – it owns you.” And there’s this interesting postscript to Zaccheus’ story. According to Clement of Alexandria (150 A.D. to 215 A.D.), in his book Stromata, Zaccheus was surnamed Matthias by the apostles, and took the place of Judas Iscariot after Jesus’ ascension. And the later Apostolic Constitutions identify "Zacchaeus the Publican" as the first elder in the church that met in Caesarea. If true, then Zack’s conversion was miraculous. But then again, aren’t they all?

You see, Jesus is still on a search and rescue mission. He knows everything about us and has been pursuing a relationship with each one of us for a long time. He knows our pain, our dreams, and all the details of our life. He knows our failures and our sins, too. And, he’s been trying to get our attention. Remember, Zack jumped out of a tree in response to Jesus’ invitation because he was curious, and his curiosity led him to investigate Jesus’ claims. But Jesus had already been searching for Zack to save him and, once forgiven, Zack’s life was radically changed.

Lord Kenneth Clark, known for his television series Civilization, admitted in his autobiography that while visiting a beautiful church he had an overwhelming religious experience. But, as he described it, the “gloom of grace” created a problem for him: if he allowed himself to be influenced by his spiritual yearnings, he knew he would have to change and his family would think that he had lost his mind. So he concluded, “I was too deeply embedded in the world to change course.” Are we too deeply embedded (Read: “in a rut”) to change course? Zacchaeus was locked into a way of life that was pretty comfortable, but Jesus changed him, and he can do the same for you, too.

Grace,

Randy

Road Rage

Road Rage
Road Rage - Audio/Visual 

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12: 17-21)

Know anyone who’s a ticking time bomb? They look pretty normal, but then you raise a certain subject, or look a certain way and … KABOOM! They explode. Maybe it’s a comment, a word or even a look. Maybe even a grudge. The dictionary defines a grudge as a “cherished dislike.” Now it’s one thing to cherish something you like – like you cherish your wife or your husband, or you cherish your kids. But cherishing something you don’t like? That’s oxymoronic. You know, words in combination that don’t make sense like jumbo shrimp, or pretty ugly. A cherished dislike: a grudge we despise but keep.

Ahithophel was a walking time bomb; normal under the circumstances and a good friend of King David, but wound tighter than a drum and ready to explode. Now, it wasn’t like Ahithophel was unintelligent. In fact, he was an extremely bright man. The Bible says that “… the advice Ahithophel gave was like that of one who inquires of God.” (2 Sam. 16:23) In other words, when it came to the advice category, he was your go-to guy; talking with Ahithophel was like talking to God. And this guy was David’s close counselor, too. So, anytime the king had a problem, he’d call for Ahithophel. Of course, this kind of access to David and the kingdom gave Ahithophel huge props. It’d be like the President asking you for advice on North Korea. But even smart people can do some really dumb things sometimes.

Ahithophel, as wise as he was, was a time bomb ready to blow. Fact is, he was carrying a huge grudge. He was full of bitterness, anger and hostility because of a past experience from which he could not recover. So, what was Ahithophel’s problem? Better yet, what’s yours? Is there something in your life that’s building up like TNT? You know, just one false move and, BOOM!, you explode? Maybe someone injured you; maybe someone said something about you that was completely false and put you in a very bad light. Is there someone, or something, in your life that could really set you off? Then again, maybe not.

Absalom, David’s son, had rebelled against David and had stolen the hearts of the people of Israel by promising them everything under the sun so long as they would make him king. (Political promises in exchange for votes have a long and sordid history) Amazingly, Absalom was doing this right under his dad’s nose. But after 4 years of electioneering, kissing babies, undermining David as king and showing off to everyone, Absalom said to his dad, "Let me go to Hebron and fulfill a promise I made to the Lord.” (2 Sam. 15:7) But that was just a ruse. Because when Absalom arrived at Hebron, just 20 miles away, he sent secret messengers to the tribes of Israel with this memo: "As soon as you hear the sound of the trumpets, then say, ‘Absalom is king in Hebron.’" (2 Sam. 15:10)

In other words, Absalom didn’t go to Hebron to fulfill any vow. He went there to orchestrate a coup. Kill the legitimate king and Absalom would be the new one. So, there’s Absalom in Hebron, starting a rebellion, gathering an army, organizing his cabinet; reaching out to everyone who’d support him in preparation for his march on Jerusalem and that’s when he makes the call – to Ahithophel, David’s counselor, to join the mutiny. (2 Sam. 15:12) Now, why in the world would he do that? I mean, Ahithophel was supposedly a smart guy, and he’d been David’s counselor forever, even serving in David’s cabinet. Yet Absalom reached out and then into David’s inner circle, the ones with all the power, and Absalom gets one of them to be a Judas. Because if Absalom could attract some of David’s counselors, especially the one whose advice was like hearing from God, then everybody’d think, "Well, I guess we’d better get on the right side of this one; even Ahithophel’s bailing.”

But how’d Absalom manage to do that? Ahithophel was certainly smart enough to know this wasn’t a sure thing. I mean, he could have consulted with himself, right? But, Absalom knew something about Ahithophel. He knew that Ahithophel was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. You see, over the years, Absalom had had the opportunity to discover that Ahithophel was carrying a grudge, a “cherished dislike,” against David. And this grudge likely caused Ahithophel to abandon reason, and David, for the enemy’s camp.

So, what was the grudge? What would cause Ahithophel to abandon his long-time friend, David? Well, putting together a few verses from the Old Testament, we can see it for ourselves. In 2 Sam. 23:34, we’re given a list of David’s mighty men and it mentions Eliam, the son of Ahithophel. Then, in 2 Sam. 11:2 we read, “David got up from his bed and walked around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he saw a woman bathing. The woman was very beautiful, and David sent someone to find out about her. The man said, "Isn’t this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite?” Get it? Yep, Bathsheba was Ahithophel’s granddaughter, taken from her husband, Uriah, who was then murdered at David’s command to cover up a pregnancy – David’s love child. Who needs Soaps?

Now, it’s pretty likely that Bathsheba eventually forgave her new husband, David. And maybe Eliam, Bathsheba’s father, forgave David, too. And, we certainly know that God forgave David. But Ahithophel, the grandfather, never let it go. He never forgave David for that sin. He carried a grudge, and for years and years it festered in him until it finally exploded when he had the opportunity in Absalom’s rebellion to abandon David.

Absalom’s rebellion eventually led to Absalom chasing David out of Jerusalem. And once David was out of Jerusalem, Absalom asked Ahithophel what he should do next. Ahithophel’s advice was, among other things, to give Ahithophel twelve thousand men to pursue and kill David, and only David, immediately. (Now that’s a grudge) But instead of following Ahithophel’s advice, Absalom decided to ask somebody else, Hushai, who was actually David’s friend who’d stayed behind in Jerusalem, as a double-agent, to frustrate Ahithophel’s counsel. Hushai’s advice was that Absalom should wait and then make a full-scale attack on David in his own stronghold. All of Absalom’s men, including Absalom, agreed with Hushai. And that was the end of Ahithophel’s advice.

So, what does a wise guy do when his advice is rejected? “When Ahithophel saw that his advice had not been followed he saddled his donkey and set out for his house in his hometown. He put his house in order and then hanged himself.” (2 Sam. 17:23) Ahithophel knew the cause was doomed. He knew that David would be able to rally the troops and, in the end, win the battle. You see, the end of any grudge, the end of carrying bitterness in our hearts results in a total collapse. The thing is, it doesn’t destroy the other person that we’re seeking to hurt; it destroys us, instead.

If we’re not able to experience forgiveness, and extend that same forgiveness to others, we don’t destroy others – we destroy ourselves. Forgiveness is not something we give to people when they come crawling back to us on their knees. Forgiveness is not something we extend to people when they finally realize that they were wrong and we were right and then beg us to forgive them. Forgiveness is an attitude toward people that demonstrates that we don’t hold grudges, that we don’t carry bitterness, that – like them – we’ve been forgiven, too.

Bitterness is a poison, and it’s just like a boomerang: you throw it, and it might feel good when you let it go, but it comes back and cuts your heart out. Carrying a grudge destroys us. It doesn’t destroy others. For instance, imagine I cut my hand and I put a band-aid on it. I then show it to my wife, Sandy, and she says, "It’s alright, don’t worry; it’s just a little cut." Then, the next day, I take the band-aid off and show it to her again. "Wow, it’s healing pretty good,” she says. But then I say, "No, it’s not," and proceed to peel off the scab, reopen the cut and squeeze it until it bleeds. "Now what do you think?” Shocked, Sandy says, "Uh, yeah, that’s pretty bad after all. Let me take care of you (you big baby)." Or, maybe she just says, “You’re crazy.”

You see, I wanted some sympathy, some attention, and I finally got it. But at what price? By re-opening a wound that, through God’s grace, was sure to heal. Now, I’d never do that with a cut, but I’ll do that with an emotional injury. And why do we do that? Why, when we’re emotionally injured by someone, do we then go to somebody else and keep reopening the wound? Keep showing it off so that the infection will grow? You know, do that enough and you could die from the infection and not from the wound itself. And do that enough with an emotional injury and you could lose your spiritual life to the infection called sin.

So, don’t nurse a grudge. Don’t allow the poison of the past to pollute your present. Whether the past sins are your own, or whether they’re others, accept and experience God’s grace. When we understand God’s forgiveness of our sins, we are then able to extend that forgiveness to others – even when they don’t ask for it. We’re forgiving them not for them, but for us. We are expressing to them the grace of God in the same way God expressed His grace to us: by dying for us while we were yet sinners. And so we, in turn, are able to die for others, to forgive others, to live gracefully for others, even while they’re sinners. (Romans 5:8) But didn’t Ahithophel have a right to be offended? Absolutely. And didn’t David do a horrible thing? Yes, he did. And didn’t Ahithophel have a right to be injured? Unquestionably. But did he have a right to be unforgiving and to carry that bitterness throughout his whole life? No, not if he was going to experience what God wants us to experience. God forgave David. Ahithophel, apparently, never did.

The best way to defuse a grudge is to forgive before the other person asks, even if it’s never asked. Try this. Think of someone against whom you may be holding a grudge. It may be a broken or estranged relationship, for instance. Now, think of some way you can defuse the road rage. For instance, you could send that person a note, or make a phone call; maybe even invite them to dinner.

Truth is you’ll eventually die from an infection if you constantly reopen your physical wounds and expose them to the elements. So, instead, allow the cleansing grace of God to heal those spiritual and emotional wounds that trouble you. And keep that band-aid of His grace on the injury; it’ll heal in time. Oh, and then consider that if He did it for you, perhaps you should do the same for others. Or, is your road rage greater than your God?

Grace,

Randy

Gosssip

Gossssssip

All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It’s a restless evil, full of deadly poison. (James 3:7-8)

Gossip – even the word hisses. Gossip is talking about a situation with someone who’s neither part of the problem nor part of the solution. And gossip’s everywhere. It’s in texts, and on Twitter, Facebook and Snapchat. It’s nothing new; it just spreads more quickly these days. Gossip’s been around since the beginning of time, and its list of victims is endless.

The book of Proverbs has a lot to say about the subject. “A troublemaker plants seeds of strife; gossip separates the best of friends.” (Prov. 16:28) “The tongue can bring death or life, and those who love to talk will reap the consequences.” (Prov. 18:21) “A gossip goes around telling secrets, so don’t hang around with chatterers.” (Prov. 20:19) Those are just a few of the Proverbs’ many truths.

The Hebrew language used in the Proverbs employs two different words for gossip. The first, rakel, means “spy” or “informer.” The second, nirgan, means “whisperer” or “backbiter.” But both describe the same person: someone who specializes in saying nothing in such a way that it leaves practically nothing left unsaid.

The book of Psalms has a lot to say about gossip, too. The interesting thing about the Psalms, however, is the choice of words used to describe the tongue: words like, “dagger,” “sword,” “poisonous tip,” “arrows,” and “death and destruction,” to name a few. And the inescapable conclusion when you read the totality of what the Psalms have to say about the subject is that the tongue has the power to destroy lives. The problem is that words like “dagger,” “sword” and “poisonous-tipped arrows” aren’t part of our current vernacular.

So, what if we used current events to describe the carnage that gossip can cause? “The tongue is like a suicide bomber who blows himself up in a market full of innocent people.” Or, “The tongue is like a kid from the lunatic fringe who walks into a school and begins spraying bullets all over the place.” Maybe, “The tongue is like a sniper who uses a silencer and assassinates from a distance so his victim never knows what hit him.” Gruesome, but better?

Maybe the reason God used such vivid imagery is that we don’t give a lot of thought to the devastation our tongue can leave in its wake. But if you’ve been its victim, you know its destructive effects first-hand. Jesus’ half-brother, James, knew too well the effects that gossip had on his older brother.

“But a tiny spark can set a great forest on fire. And the tongue is a flame of fire. It is a whole world of wickedness, corrupting your entire body. It can set your whole life on fire, for it is set on fire by hell itself.” (James 3:5-6) Living in Ramona, I’ve seen what fires can do. They cause massive destruction, and are usually started by a very small spark – like sparks from a flare, or even a downed power line. And like a movie trailer for a bad horror flick, James says that the tongue can set your whole life on fire since it’s set on fire from hell itself. Sadly, gossip wouldn’t get any traction if it didn’t have an audience. So, to escape being part of the crowd, here’s some folks you might want to avoid.

The first type is the “Prayer Request” gossip. This is the person who, when prayers are requested, says, “You know, poor Don has been on my heart, lately. I saw him last week. I think he was coming out of that adult video place, the F Street Bookstore? And, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, his family’s falling apart and he’s hooked on cocaine! I think he could really use our prayers right about now.” Touching. But prayer is neither the time nor the place to share information that others don’t need, or even want to know. God knows; that’s enough.

The next type is the “Bless Their Heart” gossip. This is the person who has something mean to say, but doesn’t want to appear like they’re actually gossiping. So, they punctuate their comments with, "Bless Their Heart." As in, “You know Bill? Well, his wife left him because he ran up their charge cards behind her back. And then, to make matters worse, I heard he got fired from his job and didn’t even bother to tell her! Bless his heart, he's trying as best he can." Don’t be fooled. Using the phrase, “bless their heart,” is just gossip dressed up in the pretense of a concern. It’s not some sort of pet, religious phrase that magically justifies sin.

A third type is the “Chit-Chat,” or “News Flash” gossip. This is the person who just loves to talk because … well … they just love to talk. It’s kind of like an occupation for them. So, while some people go to work, these gossips talk for a living. They say stuff like, “Did you hear that Frank’s parents are fighting again?” Or, “Do you know about Joanne? Her marriage is really struggling.” Or, “I hear Shawna is pregnant.” They talk about the neighbors; they talk about the grocery store clerks; they talk about the auto mechanic; they talk – incessantly. Even worse, the “News Flash” gossip isn’t particularly concerned about accuracy. They just feel that it’s their duty to inform, regardless of whether it’s true. The phrase, “fake news,” comes to mind.

The last is the more macho, “I’m Just Telling You The Truth” gossip. This is the person who says something like, “I’m just telling you the truth. If they didn’t want anybody to know, they wouldn’t have said anything, right?” But just because something’s true doesn’t mean they have permission to share it with others – it’s still potentially harmful, or hurtful. And if the gossip is simply trying to be the first one to share some “juicy little morsel,” their motives are bad and they shouldn’t be sharing the information. Period.

Apparently, the church in Ephesus had a problem with gossip, and here’s what Paul had to say: “Don’t let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs.” (Ephesians 4:29) Gossip’s not an option. We should be asking questions like “Where does he hurt?” or “How can I help?” instead. Then, once answered, words of hope and encouragement can be crafted and shared with that person, rather than whispering words of destruction about that person to the curious. Words should be used to build people up; not tear them down. The point is to talk to them, not about them.

So, instead of sharing Don’s dirty laundry through the façade of a prayer request, imagine actually going to Don, finding out about his needs and then speaking words that will build him up. Or, instead of “bless(ing) his heart,” while leaving his reputation in a smoldering ash heap, how about going to Bill and offering him hope? And, instead of “just telling the truth” about someone, how about just giving it a rest?

Imagine if we actually talked to people instead of about people. Although some say that talk’s cheap, it’s not. The fact is that loose talk can change a life forever – and not necessarily for the good. Unfortunately, there are still those who will believe anything if it’s whispered. But the truth is that if it’s not said, it can’t be spread. It’s not that complicated.

Yiddish folklore recounts a story about a man who had told so many malicious untruths about his local rabbi that, overcome with remorse, he begged the rabbi for forgiveness. "Rabbi, please tell me how I can make amends." The rabbi replied, "Take two down pillows to the public square and cut the pillows open. Then, wave them in the air and come back when you’re done." Figuring the exercise had something to do with forgiveness, the man sprinted home, got two pillows and a knife, and rushed back to the square. There, he cut the pillows open and waved them wildly in the air. When he had finished, he raced back to the rabbi. "I did just what you asked, Rabbi!" "Good," the rabbi smiled. "Now, to see how much harm gossip can cause, go back to the square...." "And?" the man asked breathlessly. "… and collect all the feathers,” answered the Rabbi.

It maims without killing, and gathers strength with age. The more often it’s quoted, the more it’s believed. It has no name and no face, and the harder you try to track it down, the more elusive it becomes. Its name is gossip. What’s yours?

Grace,

Randy