Teddy Roosevelt and Rough Riders charged up Cuba’s San Juan Hill and captured it this day, July 1, 1898. After eight hours of heavy fighting over fifteen hundred Americans lay dead or wounded. Just four months prior the U.S. ship Maine was blown up in Havana’s Harbor. Roosevelt resigned as Assistant Secretary of the Navy and organized the first volunteer cavalry, made up of polo riders, cowboys and even Indians. After the battle, President McKinley wrote: “At a time… of the… glorious achievements of the… military… at Santiago de Cuba, it is fitting that we should pause and… bow before the throne of divine grace.”

Federer, B. (2003). American minute. St. Louis, MO.: Amerisearch, Inc.

Darkness cannot put out the Light.
It can only make God brighter.
--- Author Unknown

No God,
no peace.
Know God,
know peace.
--- Author Unknown

... from here, there and everywhere

13 If you love sleep, you will become poor;
keep your eyes open, and you’ll have plenty of food.

14 “Really bad stuff!” says the buyer [to the seller];
then he goes off and brags [about his bargain].

Stern, D. H. (1998). Complete Jewish Bible-OE
: An English version of the Tanakh (OT) and
B'rit Hadashah (NT) (1st ed.). Clarksville, Md.: Jewish
New Testament Publications.

                         The inevitable penalty

     Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou have paid the uttermost farthing. --- Matthew 5:26.

     “There is no heaven with a little of hell in it.” God is determined to make you pure and holy and right; he will not allow you to escape for one moment from the scrutiny of the Holy Spirit. He urged you to come to judgment right away when He convicted you, but you did not; the inevitable process began to work and now you are in prison, and you will only get out when you have paid the uttermost farthing. ‘Is this a God of mercy, and of love?’ you say. Seen from God’s side, it is a glorious ministry of love. God is going to bring you out pure and spotless and undefiled; but He wants you to recognize the disposition you were showing—the disposition of your right to yourself. The moment you are willing that God should alter your disposition, His re-creating forces will begin to work. The moment you realize God’s purpose, which is to get you rightly related to Himself and then to your fellow men, He will tax the last limit of the universe to help you take the right road. Decide it now—‘Yes, Lord, I will write that letter to-night’; ‘I will be reconciled to that man now.’

     These messages of Jesus Christ are for the will and the conscience, not for the head. If you dispute the Sermon on the Mount with your head, you will blunt the appeal to your heart.

     ‘I wonder why I don’t go on with God!’ Are you paying your debts from God’s standpoint? Do now what you will have to do some day. Every moral call has an ‘ought’ behind it.

Chambers, O. (1993). My Utmost for His Highest

All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter?
I spoke a tongue that was passed on
To me in the place I happened to be,
A place huddled between grey walls
Of cloud for at least half the year.
My word for heaven was not yours.
The word for hell had a sharp edge
Put on it by the hand of the wind
Honing, honing with a shrill sound
Day and night. Nothing that Glyn Dwr
Knew was armour against the rain's
Missiles. What was descent from him?

Even God had a Welsh name:
We spoke to him in the old language;
He was to have a peculiar care
For the Welsh people. History showed us
He was too big to be nailed to the wall
Of a stone chapel, yet still we crammed him
Between the boards of a black book.

Yet men sought us despite this.
My high cheek-bones, my length of skull
Drew them as to a rare portrait
By a dead master. I saw them stare
From their long cars, as I passed knee-deep
In ewes and wethers. I saw them stand
By the thorn hedges, watching me string
The far flocks on a shrill whistle.
And always there was their eyes; strong
Pressure on me: You are Welsh, they said;
Speak to us so; keep your fields free
Of the smell of petrol, the loud roar
Of hot tractors; we must have peace
And quietness.

Is a museum
Peace? I asked. Am I the keeper
Of the heart's relics, blowing the dust
In my own eyes? I am a man;
I never wanted the drab role
Life assigned me, an actor playing
To the past's audience upon a stage
Of earth and stone; the absurd label
Of birth, of race hanging askew
About my shoulders. I was in prison
Until you came; your voice was a key
Turning in the enormous lock
Of hopelessness. Did the door open
To let me out or yourselves in?

Thomas, R. S. Selected poems, 1946-1968

     Through the last several decades, movies have become more and more grisly. This is due to an increasing tolerance of—and even taste for—violence, combined with modern film technology that makes such scenes possible. The villain is brutally decapitated while riding atop a subway car; a police officer goes on a bloody rampage after his partner is killed (or his daughter raped, or his wife murdered); the victim of a murder returns as a ghost or a raven, wreaking vengeance on his attackers through cruel and savage torture.

     We watch these movies and complain about the violence. We protest—“How awful!”—while paying exorbitant prices in record numbers to see these films. Hollywood agrees on a rating system for movies so that younger children will not be exposed to the blood and gore. Yet the “R” rating often assures an increased audience and more exposure.

     Our own mouths say “How awful,” but our own ears hear only the explosion of bombs and the ricochet of bullets. Our own mouths say “We live in violent times,” while our own ears listen to the tape-recording of show times for the newest movie release. Our own mouths ask, “Where did those children learn how to act like this?” as our own ears are attuned to our children’s hunger (and ours) for bigger, better, more graphic depictions of violence.

     Won’t our ears hear what our own mouths say?

     ANOTHER D’RASH

     iconoclast n., fr. the Gk., image + break
1. one opposed to the religious use of images
2. one who attacks widely accepted ideas

     This famous Midrash comes to tell us not only who Abraham was but also who we should strive to be. The first Hebrew was an iconoclast, in both senses of the word. Abraham broke his father’s idols because he came to the realization that there was but one God in the world, and that God had no physical body or form. But that idea, and the willingness to act on it, would have made Abraham only a religious zealot. He was, in fact, much more. He was a prophet as well, a man who served as the conscience of his society. He had a vision of what was right and what was wrong, and he had the courage to stand up and point a finger at anyone who he felt was on the wrong path—be it Terah, his father; or God. Abraham was not afraid to smash the idols in Terah’s shop, and he was not afraid to challenge God’s plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah by asking, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” (Genesis 18:25)

     When the Rabbis investigated the meaning of the word “Hebrew,” one of their explanations focused on Abraham’s iconoclasm: “He stood on one side (עֵבֶר/eiver) and the rest of the world stood on the other side.” This is what Abraham was about—standing apart, finding his own way, and challenging the beliefs of everyone else. This is what it means to be a Hebrew: to stand on the other side, not trying to conform and fit in but finding one’s own way, no matter how lonely that way might be.

     The end of the midrashic tale about Abraham is interesting. Terah turns his son in to Nimrod, king of Ur. Nimrod is not willing to tolerate anyone who deviates from the accepted beliefs, and he sentences Abraham to death in a fiery furnace. Meanwhile, Abraham’s brother Haran is forced to make a choice: support his brother, or support his king. Haran equivocates, wanting to wait and see how the trial by ordeal will turn out before he takes a stand. When Abraham miraculously emerges unscathed from the furnace, Haran declares his support for his brother. Outraged, Nimrod has Haran thrown into the fire, where he perishes. Thus, the premature death of Haran in Ur (which in Hebrew can also mean “fire”).

     Some of us may not be cut out to be iconoclasts like Abraham. At the very least, we need to “let our ears hear” what the iconoclasts among us have to say.

Katz, M., & Schwartz, G. Searching for Meaning in Midrash: Lessons for Everyday Living Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society.

     Jehovah of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. --- Psalm 46:7, 11 ASV

     The God of the stars will fight for me against the foes that hinder me as I climb toward the home of God. Classic Sermons on the Apostle Peter (Kregel Classic Sermons Series) He will command the whole universe for the making of a soul. Do you doubt me? Then let me remind you that for the purchase of my soul and yours, for our reconciliation and redemption, he gave one supreme gift that was infinitely superior to all the stars—the One by whose word they were made and in whose might they have consisted through the ages. He gave him for the remaking of my broken, spoiled life. The stars, the host of God if need be, will be pressed into the service of the making of the saint and into the service of the saints as they go forth in toil for God.

     What did he do for Jacob? Think of his history. See at what infinite pains God was to make something out of him. Oh, the patience of God!

     And he went down over the Jabbok, and God met with him and crippled him to make him. It was a wonderful night, only do not let us misinterpret it. Do not talk as though Jacob wrestled with God and overcame him. It is not true. With strong crying and tears he said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me” (Gen. 32:26). It was a voice choked with sorrow, the voice of someone being beaten, being crippled, in the last agony of despair as he went down beneath the pressure of that mysterious hand. He won when he was beaten; he triumphed when he yielded, and God never let him alone until, that night, by crippling him he broke him.

     Oh, you who are conscious of your own weakness, you who are conscious of the evil within you that baffles, beats, and spoils you, “the God of Jacob is our refuge.” When the only pillow we have is a hard, unsympathetic stone, he will open his heaven so that his hosts may teach us that those with us are more than those who are against us, and he will put his hands on us and, it may be, wound us, but the wounding is only for the deeper healing.

     Oh, dear heart, tried as by fire, sing while the fire burns, sing while the pain is hot. If you trust him, he breaks to make, he cripples to crown. By God’s grace we go on, not thinking of resigning or giving this fight or anything up except sin. “The LORD of hosts,” marshaling all for our making, “is with us.” We will follow, we will trust, we will fight—God helping us.
--- G. Campbell Morgan

Wallis, D. (2001). Take Heart: Daily Devotions with the Church's Great Preachers

     In 612 B.C., the Medes and the Babylonians united to attack Nineveh, and the Lord used them to judge the evil city. This chapter is a vivid description of what happened as seen by Nahum in the vision God gave him.

     The invaders appear (Nahum 2:1–4). The guards on the walls of the city see the army advancing and the officers issue orders and encourage their soldiers. You can almost hear the sharp commands: “Guard the fortress, watch the road, brace yourself, marshal all your strength!” (v. 1, NIV) Above all the noise, the voice of the Lord is heard as He speaks to Israel and Judah and assures them that they will be restored and reunited. (v.2) (“Jacob” probably refers to Judah, the Southern Kingdom, and Israel refers to the Northern Kingdom that was dispersed by Assyria in 722–721 B.C. Since this promise has not been fulfilled, its fulfillment awaits the return of Christ when He will establish His kingdom and restore the splendor of the Jewish nation.)

     The invading army is formidable with its manpower, armor, weapons, and chariots (vv. 3–4). Already their shields are red with blood. The chariots look like flames of fire as they dash here and there in the streets of the city, and the soldiers find it easy to slaughter the defenseless people.

     The city is captured (Nahum 2:5–10). “He” in verse 5 refers to the king of Assyria who had plotted against the Lord and His people (1:9). He gathers his best officers and gives them orders to protect the wall, but they are too late. They stumble like drunks instead of marching like heroes. The leaders were sure their fortress was impregnable, but their defenses proved to be their undoing.

     The Khoser River flowed through the city, so the invaders damned it up and then released the water so that it destroyed part of the wall and some of the buildings. It was a simple matter for the Medes and Babylonians to enter the city and take control. But they can’t take credit for the victory; it was decreed by God that the city be destroyed and the inhabitants be killed or taken captive (2:7). The invaders were but God’s instruments to execute His will.

     First, the soldiers line up the prisoners to march them off to their own lands where they’ll become slaves. Nahum compares the exodus to water draining out of a pool. Then the soldiers begin looting this fabulously wealthy city, and the people watch with dismay. “Hearts melt, knees give way, bodies tremble, every face grows pale” (v. 10, NIV). Nineveh is being treated the way she treated others; her sins had found her out.

     The captive leaders are taunted (Nahum 2:11–13). Speaking on behalf of God, the prophet has the last word. As the Assyrian captives are marched away, leaders and common citizens, and the city’s treasures carried off by their captors, Nahum taunts the Ninevites by contrasting their present plight with their former glory.

     The image of the lion was often used by the Assyrians in their art and architecture. Visit the Assyrian room in any large museum and you will see huge statues of lions. But even more, the Assyrians acted like lions as they stalked their prey and completely devoured their captives. “Where is the lions’ den now?” Nahum asks as the city is destroyed. “Where is all your prey, the treasures you ruthlessly took from others?” Lions will normally take to their lair enough food for themselves and their cubs, but the Assyrians amassed wealth beyond measure, far more than they needed, and they did it at the cost of human lives.

     No wonder the Lord announced, “I am against you” (v. 13). Over a century before, the Lord had sent Jonah to warn Nineveh, and when the city repented, He withdrew His hand of judgment. But now their time was up and the end had come. Assyria would be left with no weapons, no leaders, and no victories to be announced by their messengers. Instead, Assyria’s enemies would hear the voice of couriers announcing peace because Assyria had been defeated (1:15).

W. W. Wiersbe, (1996) Be Amazed (Minor Prophets): Restoring an Attitude of Wonder and Worship (The BE Series Commentary)