Art Imitating Life

As many of you know, I was raised by a man who frequently wore makeup.  My dad was Ronald McDonald.  Yes, it’s true.  Actually, my dad was an executive with the Kroger Corp. who moonlighted as Ronald on the weekends. I have fond memories of parades, store openings, personal appearances, and driving dad around in costume as he waved to surprised passers-by and delighted children.  Being around Ronald was always adventurous.  In fact, it was at the Cherry Festival in Traverse, Michigan that Ronald and I shook hands with then-president Gerald Ford on the same day that Colonel Sanders greeted dad with a terse, “Hello, clown.”

That was during the heyday of Ronald McDonald.  He was a fast-food marketing icon.  An ad-man’s dream.  And at once point in time he was the third most recognizable character by children in the Happy Meal demographic — right behind Santa Claus and Mickey Mouse.

But today, not so much.  And that’s the gist of the article I just came across called “Ronald McDonald uncool in hipper market.”  You can read it here:

http://dailycaller.com/2011/03/02/ronald-mcdonald-uncool-in-hipper-market/

The funny part is that I “predicted” this back in 2005.  In fact, the metadata on the following image says it was created July 9, 2005. 

It was just a joke.  I was transferring some old slides to digital images when I came across a very odd shot of dad, off the beaten path, walking somewhere in Detroit that you would not normally see Ronald.  I don’t know if he was waiting in the wings to join a parade or if he was heading toward an appearance when the photo was snapped.  Ronald was virtually never alone.  He was always thronged by fans and kids — and handlers and advertising execs.  But there he was, by himself, walking through an industrial neighborhood.  It was such an odd picture that I couldn’t help but add a caption.

So here’s the original “predictive” image and caption from 2005.

RIP Ronald McDonald  1963 – 2011

But he’ll always live on in our hearts.   🙂

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Jim of Arc

A week ago Sunday I was announcing that the next week’s message was going to concern women and their proper behavior within the church.  And as we closed, I joked that I would have to stay in the building until the parking lot was empty or else the women would be out there with torches. At that point, Conrad said, “Jim of Arc.”  And I knew, somewhere back in my memory, that B. Kliban (author of such notable books as “Whack Your Porcupine” and “Never Eat Anything Larger Than Your Head”) had once drawn a cartoon by that name.  And I had once cut that cartoon out of a newspaper.  So I went digging through my boxes of keepsakes and found it.  And I now I share it with all of you. 

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A “Really Nice Guy” — Thinking About Dad on Father’s Day

It’s Father’s Day, 2010.  I’m thinking about my dad.  We buried him in January of 1997 and I had the great joy of eulogizing him.  It was a joy because some people deserve to have ‘good words’ said about them.  And dad was one of those guys.  Of course, I’m a bit biased.  I’m his son.

But, back on Sunday, September 8, 1974, the Detroit Free Press said the same thing.

The above picture is a scan of one of my keepsakes.  It’s a newspaper article that told everyone in Detroit what we already knew.  Remember, this is back in the day when people still read newspapers and weren’t distracted by things like the Internet, email, or Tweets.  The article is entitled, “Ronald McDonald: The Secret Business Of Being a Hero.”  Under the photo is the caption, “Ed McClarty, alias Ronald McDonald: Behind the greasepaint lurks a Really Nice Guy who actually likes the kids who worship him.”

Now, I must add that this article had the potential to cause a real stir among the McDonald’s higher-up’s.  There were rules about being Ronald McDonald.  One of those rules was absolute anonymity.  No one was allowed to know who Ronald really was.  Yet, here was this article, along with a photo of dad in full make-up without his wig.  It broke all the rules.  But, it was such a positive article that both the advertising agency and the corporation embraced it.  And dad became a local hero.

I’ll include the text of the whole article in a minute, but people often ask, “So how does a person go about getting that job?”  In dad’s case, it was the result of being “a Really Nice Guy.”

When we were living in Livonia, where I spent my high school and college years, my dad worked for the Kroger Company.  He felt that Kroger’s offered more stability than his previous job at American Airlines.  He once told me, “If the economy goes sour, people might stop flying.  But, they have to eat.”  So, with five kids and wife to support, dad gauged the future and went with food over flight.

My dad’s favorite hobby was magic.  He always had a couple of trick coins or a mysteriously-changing two-dollar bill in his pocket.  And he loved the reaction he could get from strangers when he would work a magical effect into his common, everyday interactions with them.  They’d smile and laugh, or stare in disbelief.  And he’d walk off knowing that he had just brightened their day.

Growing up, he taught all of his kids to perform magic tricks.  It was his way of getting us in front of people and helping us get over the natural fear of public speaking.  When I was young, dad and I did shows together for father/son banquets, Boy Scout outings, or wherever they needed some entertainment.  I even had a ventriloquist dummy and did my best to talk without my lips moving.  Dad actively founded and supported various magic clubs, both for adults and kids.  He passed on his love for entertaining to everyone who wanted to learn a card trick or wave a magic wand.  In fact, when he finally “retired,” he opened a magic shop on the square in Shelbyville, TN.

For most of his adult life, dad was a member and officer of the IBM — the International Brotherhood of Magicians.  And, if you’re a card-carrying member of the IBM, you can visit the Magic Castle in Hollywood, CA.   http://www.magiccastle.com/

It’s a private club, not the sort of place you can just show up and expect to get in.  (By the way, for most of my years in Southern California I was a card-carrying member of the Magic Castle.)  Sometime in 1972, my mom and dad were in Los Angeles for a Kroger convention.  And, of course, dad wanted to visit the Castle.

When my folks arrived at the front door and the valet drove off with their rental car, they waited in line as they overheard the receptionist turning away a couple who had no reservations.  They were all dressed up (the Castle has a dress code), they were hoping to have dinner and see the shows.  But, because they didn’t know anyone who was a member they could not get in.  So dad, being “a Really Nice Guy,” stepped up and said, “Oh, they’re my guests.”

The rules say that visitors and guests must also have dinner reservations, so dad added the dressed-up strangers to his table.  They turned to the bookcase, said “Open sesame,” and they were in.  Later in the evening, when their dinner reservation time arrived, my parents joined the couple they had helped at the front door.  And, as they ate, they discovered that the man was in advertising.  In fact, he worked for Grey Advertising.  And their client was McDonald’s.  Over dinner, dad told stories, did tricks, told the couple about the Magic Castle’s history and was just … well, he was just himself.  And somewhere in the conversation he mentioned that he and mom lived outside Detroit.  That bit of information caused the ad-man to share that he would be in Detroit soon.  The purpose of his trip was to replace the fellow who had been playing Ronald McDonald in the area.  Apparently, he’d been using his status as Ronald to pick up women.  Not exactly the image the corporation preferred.

The ad-man looked across the table and sized dad up.  He said that the new Ronald had to be dad’s height, have dad’s eye color, and be a magician.  And, of course, the new Ronald had to be “a Really Nice Guy.”  So, numbers were exchanged and when dad got home to Livonia he told us about the providential meeting.  And we laughed.

But, sure enough, true to his word, the ad-man arrived at our door, make-up artists and costume in tow, and the next thing we knew our dad was wearing make-up and a wig.  More laughter.  A gaggle of advertising types shuffled dad into a car and drove him to Children’s Hospital for his audition.  That evening, he had the gig.  And for the next 24 years we lived with Ronald McDonald.

So, how do you get the job?  Well, it helps if you’re “a Really Nice Guy.”

Okay, so here’s the text of the Detroit Free Press article from September 8, 1974.  The photo and the interview occurred while Ronald McDonald was appearing at the Michigan State Fair, sharing a stage with acts as diverse as The Captain and Tennille, Seals and Crofts, and The Cowsills (remember them?)

_________________________________

Ronald McDonald: The Secret Business Of Being a Hero
By Gregory Skwira
Free Press Business Writer
He can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound and he doesn’t drive anything as flashy as the Batmobile.  But Ed McClarty, the tall, trim 42-year-old personnel manager for Kroger Co’s Detroit operations, has a secret identity that makes Superman and Batman look like minor leaguers.Such are the amenities of being a Ronald McDonald.McClarty is one of about 120 chosen mortals who don the red nose, baggy yellow pants and oversize red oxfords on weekends to visit kids at McDonald’s Corp’s 3,000 outlets, as well as at parades, civic functions and hospitals.  All are hired by local ad agencies, with the exception of THE top banana – actor King Moody, who plays Ronald on the company’s television commercials.

McClarty’s territory includes the entire state of Michigan, which has about 140 McDonald’s outlets, and part of southern Ontario.

The Ronald McDonald concept is a product of the early 1960’s.  A small ad agency in Washington, D.C. created the character for its local franchise accounts, and the national organization liked the idea so much that it began using the clown as its primary national symbol about seven years ago.

McClarty, who has been a magician for 10 years and is a past president of the Detroit Chapter of the International Brotherhood of Magicians, took on the mantle of greatness about two years ago.  A chance meeting with an executive from Grey Advertising’s Detroit office, which handles the McDonald’s account for the state of Michigan, led to a successful tryout.  (The opening occurred when Grey reportedly fired the state’s reigning Ronald for not being clandestine enough about his secret identity.)

In the past two years, McClarty has made over 100 appearances as Ronald, a feat that has taken up most of his weekends.  Although he had no prior clowning experience, he said the transition was easy since he was already a performer.  Also, McDonald’s offers a national training program for its new recruits.  There are regulations governing the makeup, the costume and the conduct, although the details are as closely guarded as the company’s recipe for its secret Big Mac sauce.

McClarty’s act is very low-key; not once are the kids urged to go out and buy sacks-full of burgers.  In addition to the magic tricks, the music and the banter, there is a skit aimed at teaching kids not to litter (McClarty collects junk from the audience, places it in his magic box, and turns it into “recycled” McDonald’s hamburger wrapper, cups, and napkins.  Don’t ask me how he does it.)

There’s no need for a strong sales pitch, of course.  The company, which has sold over 14 billion hamburgers to date, has wide visibility due to a television and radio ad blitzkrieg, and most of the kids in the audience have spent a goodly portion of their childhood under the golden arches snarfing down hamburgers, fries and shakes.

Their loyalty produced total 1973 revenues for the company of $1,507 billion, and both sales and earnings for the first six months of this year rose in excess of 30 percent.

According to Lou Bitonti, a Grey Executive, on the McDonald’s account, the Ronald McDonald appearances are supposed to supplement the company’s advertising rather than be a part of it.  Ronald’s primary role is a goodwill ambassador, and there is a conscious effort not to turn him into a salesman.  “If we commercialize Ronald, we’ve lost it,” Bitonti says.

And McClarty fits the image perfectly.  You can call him a Really Nice Buy without feeling corny.  He is an accomplished performer: his magic tricks are clever and crisply executed.  Beyond that, however, he has a special way with kids — he charms them and is delighted by their reaction.

The people at Grey talk a lot about the magic created by the television King Moody clown romping around the mythical McDonaldland Hollywood set.  But if there is indeed magic in the character, it is people like McClarty who infuse it.

Although he spends much of his time at various McDonald’s outlets around the state (the franchisees pay, but Grey won’t say how much), he also spends many hours visiting hospitals.  That’s the high point of the job, he says, seeing sick or disabled kids perk up during those hospital visits.

Although he took vacation time to appear regularly at the Michigan State Fair, McClarty’s clowning is generally confined to weekends.  His Kroger job comes first, he says, and the people at Grey, who make all his bookings, must work around it.  His pay for being Ronald is a well-kept secret, too.

Are there any problems connected with playing the nation’s most famous clown?  Only one, he says: “When I drive down the street waving to people and then realize that I don’t have my costume on.  That produces some strange looks.”

___________________________________________________________

Okay, one more funny story.  When dad was in his Ronald persona he could not drive a car.  He had to be free to wave and interact with kids in other vehicles who might recognize him.  So I often drove him to his appearances.  Other times, we drove to the airport and he would fly in by helicopter.  Sometimes they’d bring him in as part of a parade or on a fire truck, sirens full-blare.  It was always an event. At one of his earliest appearances he was approached by a young boy who wanted his autograph.  Being a businessman who signs paperwork all day, he happily obliged and started writing:  E … D … M … c … C … L … And that’s when I nudged him with my elbow, saying, “He wants your autograph RONALD.”  Dad caught himself, stifling his snickers, and grabbed a close-by piece of paper as I ditched the original.  He started again: R … O … N… A …L … That night he sat at the kitchen table and practiced writing it over and over until it came naturally.  Ronald McDonald.  Ronald McDonald.  Ronald McDonald.

He was a good guy, my dad.  And he raised five great kids.  And he stayed true to my mom until his last breath.  He was indeed “a Really Nice Guy.”Now, of course, my brother and sisters and I will also tell you that he was a firm father;  a strict dad who made sure we knew who was in charge.  But, in the end, that served us well.  Being a dad myself, I now recognize the value of having an authority figure in the home.  And my kids agree. Maybe someday I’ll share the story I told at his funeral.  I cannot tell it without crying, so maybe writing it down is the best way to keep his legacy alive for his grandkids. But, for now, I just want to wish him a happy Father’s Day. I’m grateful every day that he was my dad.

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The Mathematic Value of 1000

This past Friday I recorded a response to Gary DeMar’s YouTube video concerning the number 1000 in Revelation 20.  You can my response here: A Thousand Means A Thousand

In his video, Gary said, “The use of the number thousand in Revelation 20 is interesting because of the way thousand is used elsewhere in Scripture.”  Then Gary provided three examples from the Old Testament where the word “thousand” is used less-than-literally.  He concluded that, given such evidence, the number “thousand” in Revelation 20 is meant to be understood in a similar, non-literal way.  But, I wondered — and you should too — why those three examples ought to have greater weight than the hundreds of other references to “thousand” in the Old Testament.

Well, last night as we were teaching our way through the book of Numbers, we came across the passage below, describing the dividing of the plunder Israel brought home after defeating the Midianites.  It’s a passage where the word “thousand” occurs repeatedly as the animals and people are counted.  At first glance, it might seem like an insignificant bit of accounting.  But pay attention to the details because they include a vital bit of information that helps us understand the meaning of “thousand” in the Bible.

“Levy a tax for the LORD from the men of war who went out to battle, one in five hundred of the persons and of the cattle and of the donkeys and of the sheep; take it from their half and give it to Eleazar the priest, as an offering to the LORD.  From the sons of Israel’s half, you shall take one drawn out of every fifty of the persons, of the cattle, of the donkeys and of the sheep, from all the animals, and give them to the Levites who keep charge of the tabernacle of the LORD.”   Moses and Eleazar the priest did just as the LORD had commanded Moses.  Now the booty that remained from the spoil which the men of war had plundered was 675,000 sheep, and 72,000 cattle, and 61,000 donkeys, and of human beings, of the women who had not known man intimately, all the persons were 32,000.  The half, the portion of those who went out to war, was as follows: the number of sheep was 337,500, and the LORD’S levy of the sheep was 675; and the cattle were 36,000, from which the LORD’S levy was 72; and the donkeys were 30,500, from which the LORD’S levy was 61; and the human beings were 16,000, from whom the LORD’S levy was 32 persons.  Moses gave the levy which was the LORD’S offering to Eleazar the priest, just as the LORD had commanded Moses.  As for the sons of Israel’s half, which Moses separated from the men who had gone to war– now the congregation’s half was 337,500 sheep, and 36,000 cattle, and 30,500 donkeys, and the human beings were 16,000.   (Numbers 31:28-46)

Notice that this passage is full of math.  And it’s accurate math.  For instance, half of 32,000 is 16,000, 1/500th of which is 32.  These people were skilled at counting and using numbers.  But, pay attention to the math concerning the number 1000.  Twice, in dividing 1000, the outcome is 500.  Half of 675,000 sheep equals 337,500.  And half of 61,000 donkeys is 30,500.

What’s my point?  This passage plainly tells us that 1000 equals 500 times 2.  That’s mathematic certainty concerning the common meaning of 1000 in the Old Testament.

So, why didn’t Gary DeMar consider these passages when he was telling us what 1000 meant in Revelation 20?  His system won’t allow it.  The simple reality is that the Bible uses the term 1000 literally and mathematically far more frequently than it uses it to express any lack-of-specificity.  If we just do a quick survey of how it is used throughout the Bible, it’s plain that Gary was cherry picking and overemphasizing certain texts in order to draw his predetermined conclusion.  And that, my friends, is no way to “do” theology.

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Two bald theologs named James

 This past weekend I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. James White, the man to whom I am most frequently compared.  Usually, the comparisons are of a theological nature.  People who listen to our podcasts often listen to his as well (www.aomin.org).  But, last Friday we were both in the same place at the same time and we now have photographic proof that the comparisons are not merely theological, but quite physical.
 

I’m grateful that we had the opportunity to meet.  We had time for a couple of very cordial chats and I thoroughly enjoyed his presentations.

I first became aware of Dr. White about 15 or 16 years ago when I was part of a chat group hosted by Sound of Grace.  We were in the middle of a fierce debate about the transmission of the New Testament text and the controversies surrounding “King James Only-ism.”  One of the members of the chat group invited James to join us and present his research and opinions on the subject.  I was immediately struck by the lucidity of his arguments and his ability to communicate clearly and concisely.  After he was done the group voted and Dr. White won the day.

It was years later when I became aware of his website and Internet program, The Dividing Line.  That led to downloading his various debates and lectures.  These days, he’s a YouTube power user, uploading videos regularly that deal with various topics: Islam, Catholicism, Mormonism, Calvinism, and defenses of the historic Christian faith.  He goes by the name of “DrOakley1689” on YouTube and you can find his channel here:

Dr White on YouTube

I’ve called his Dividing Line program a couple of times over the years (although not too recently, come to think of it).  I’ve always enjoyed our exchanges.  One of his most attractive qualities is his willingness to laugh.  I think it’s important that theologians take their subject matter very seriously, while being cautious not to take themselves too seriously.

Even though I’ve learned the hard way not to hold my heroes up too high, I’m always grateful when I have a chance to meet them, share a bit of time, share the joy of our common faith, and remember how blessed we are that God continues to provide leaders and teachers in His church.

And besides, how can you not like guys who look like this?

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What I Don’t Want For 2010

 

My own way.

I spent a great deal of my life pursuing — and pretty effectively attaining — my wants and desires. Unfortunately, inasmuch as I’m a depraved person (a fact that I can prove with ample evidence), my wants and desires were equally depraved. And eventually the constant diet of fulfilled sinful desire became wearying and soul-stultifying.

As I look back, I’ve learned two important lessons. One: every bad, painful, horrid thing that ever happened to me, I didn’t see coming. And two: every truly good thing that has occurred in my life happened despite me. So, what is instantly clear is that I am not in control. And on those occasions where it appeared that I had some influence over the outcome of things, I always messed them up. So, why would I want control? Why would I want things to work my way?

Early on in my Christian conversion I was taught a wonderful guiding principle: God is too holy not to that which brings Him the greatest glory and He loves us too much not to do that which is for our greatest good. In other words, He’s going to do things His way whether we like it or not. That’s what sovereign providence is all about.

So, from 2010 onward, I want no more of my own way.

My own fame.

In my early 20’s I decided to move to Los Angeles. That decision was driven by the need to be famous. It was no longer sufficient to have people in the Detroit area know me, I wanted a national stage. And rock music was the vehicle that would take me there. I had performed for two seasons and toured Great Britain with the Houston All-City Symphony. I had played intimate jazz and “big band” swing. I had played in garage bands, club bands, marching bands, pit bands, and shows bands. But, rock’n’roll was like the express elevator to worldwide recognition. It was hard work. It was emotionally draining. But, it paid big dividends. And that was just fine with me.

But, as Christianity took hold in my heart and mind, thoughts of my own personal advancement and fame became increasingly upsetting and revolting. “How,” I began to wonder, “can Christ truly be ‘all and in all’ if I am constantly making sure there’s adequate room for me?”

I cannot save anyone. My death will not result in anyone else’s redemption. I am quite utterly imperfect. I cannot heal sickness, solve crises, prevent catastrophes, or bring the dead to life. All in all, I am hardly a person to be admired or imitated because, when it comes to the really important matters, I can only point to the One who actually matters. So then, why should I be famous? He should have all the fame because He has all the power. And I need Him far more than He needs me.

So, from 2010 onward, I want no more of my own fame.

My own art.

At one point in my life, I reveled in the notion that I was the quintessential “tortured artist.” My thoughts, emotions, and feelings were significant enough that they needed to be shared with the world. I wrote songs, I wrote poems, I wrote stories, I wrote … well, I wrote about me. I basked in my unmitigated emotional depth and imaginary courage. As I was wont to say, “Hurt me; I’ll make it art.” If hubris had a cousin, I was it.

I have several folders and notebooks full of poems and scribblings. I took them out the other night and realized that it had been fully nine years since I’d written anything poetic. Self-expression seems vain … in every meaning of the word.

Now whatever gifts God may have given me with which to communicate thoughts and ideas, I prefer to convey those thoughts and ideas that exalt Him for His great kindness to me, and those which “minister grace to the hearer.” (Eph. 4:29)

So, from 2010 onward, I want no more of my own art.

My own cleverness.

Sometimes, cleverness is its own reward. People gravitate to clever people who can devise inventions, turn a pithy phrase, or appear to be a few steps ahead of the madding crowd. Cleverness is also akin to sarcasm — the ability to slice and dice others with a bit of witty repartee. For many years, my sharp tongue was the chief weapon in my arsenal of tools used to keep everyone at arm’s distance.

As I have aged, I have been cursed with the ability to remember all the verbally-bloodied victims I’ve left in my wake. And, successful in my attempt to keep people at a safe distance, I found myself alone. Cleverness is also its own worst enemy.

Christianity, by contrast, insists on putting the wellbeing of others ahead of our own. Christianity encourages us to keep a civil tongue and use kind words. Christianity is not about being clever, it’s about being a servant, about giving yourself away and investing in the fruitful outcome of others. That’s not done by wit. It’s done by humility. And no matter how clever I think my thoughts or words are, they are of absolutely no significance if they do not aid the Christian progress of the person who hears them.

So, from 2010 onward, I want no more of my own cleverness.

My own sinful passions.

As a human, I crave. I have deep, entrenched desires. There was a time when I thought my passion for the things of this world was noble. I was never more alive than when I was lunging headlong into my latest craving. I was “deep,” after all. I felt things more vividly and violently than most folk … or, at least that’s how I saw myself. It made me unique and worth all the attention I was getting.

Consider Psalm 37:4 for a moment. It says, “Delight yourself in the Lord; and He will give you the desires of your heart.” That’s a dangerous statement unless the Lord changes the desires of your heart. And that’s what has happened to me. The more I have learned to delight myself in the Lord, the more He has become my primary desire. And, sure enough, the more of Himself He reveals to me, the more I am delighted. Now my passion is for Him; His glory, His word, His worship, and His people.

One of the most amazing things about genuine conversion is that God does not suppress our emotions — He redirects them. What was once self-love becomes brotherly love. What was once fleshly desire becomes Heavenly desire. What was once selfish passion becomes the desire to spread His word, to call sinners to repentance, and to help them see the One who is gracious, kind, patient, and altogether lovely.

So, from 2010 onward, I want no more of my own sinful passions.

What I deserve.

Through an act of amazing charity, I was recently given a set of drums. There was a time when I was defined by my ability to play drums and if I didn’t practice for at least three hours each day, I wasn’t alive. Playing drums was as natural as breathing. Although I used to own several drum kits, I haven’t owned any drums for fifteen years or more. When the kids were young and I was struggling financially, I had fallen behind on the house payments. I sold my last Pearl kit for exactly the amount it took to keep us in our house. Since then, I had been drum-less.

I told you that story to tell you this one. After I was given a beautiful set of Pearl drums — my favorite, by the way — I told a musician friend of mine about the remarkable circumstances that led to the gift. He said, “That’s great! You deserve them.” Those words hung in the air for a moment. Then I replied, “No, I don’t deserve them. And the last thing I want is what I deserve.”

You see, one essential element of a really advanced ego (trust me here, I’m an expert in this area) is the assumption that you deserve all the good things that come your way. And if something bad happens, it’s an aberration. That’s the sort of thinking that leads to questions like “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

The Bible declares that there are no good people. There are only sinners; enemies of God; haters of everything that is holy; wicked, depraved people. The proper question then is, “Why do good things happen to bad people?” And that’s the essence of grace.

What I deserve, it turns out, is hell forever. What I deserve is God’s eternal wrath. What I deserve is to be separated from Him permanently and perpetually. Fire, brimstone, torment — that’s what I deserve.

But, what I’m promised is Heaven. Through no goodness on my part, as the result of no good works I’ve performed, but merely as a matter of God’s mercy, I will not receive what I deserve. I have received grace. I am receiving grace. I will receive grace.

So, from 2010 onward, the very, very last thing I ever want is what I deserve.

In summary.

Now here’s the great irony of God’s genius. As much as I do not want my own way, my way is inexorably becoming conformed to His way. In other words, I do not feel in any way cheated or short-changed. I am fulfilled and happy. Just as I grew tired of “my way,” He changed my way to suit His way and I most joyfully now pursue the way I find most pleasing — His way.

As much as I am no longer interested in my own fame, I get great joy from seeing Him exalted. And though I could never have predicted it, GCA and Salvation By Grace have become widely known through the Internet. I receive wonderful letters and email from people who share their lives and testimonies with us. We hear from all corners of the globe and people tell us how their lives and faith have been enriched by listening and reading at our site. Honestly, it’s overwhelming and deeply gratifying. But this new-found recognition is not fame. It’s not a matter of ego. It’s God’s providential wisdom at work. He allowed me to bask in my own aggrandizement until I could smell ego a mile away. Once that smell was repugnant, He put me into His service. Then He let people know who we were and what we were about.

His ways are wonderful.

As much as I do not want my own art, God does not destroy the individuality of His people. He gifts His own with the abilities that are best suited to their place in His kingdom. I was given the gift to communicate. Being Irish, I’ve always thought of it as “the gift of gab.” When folk tell me that the Bible finally makes sense to them, or that I have helped them understand complex biblical concepts in a way that makes it simple and approachable, that’s just God turning my “art” to His glory. It’s no longer about self-expression. It’s about Heavenly-expression. Same ability, new purpose.

Cleverness, I suppose, falls into that same rubric. But, where I used to show off my own verbal and intellectual dexterity, my concern now is to show off God’s astounding wisdom and the limitless value of His word. It’s not about being clever; it’s about being clear, being precise, being a tool in the hands of a Master Craftsman.

As much as I do not want my own sinful passions, God has redirected my passion. He has not squelched it. Much as He used the temperament of Moses or the boldness of Peter, God has taken what was once debauched and turned it toward His holy purposes. Christianity has enlivened and enriched my passion, giving it a righteous purpose and restraining it from its unseemly past.

His grace is beyond comprehension.

And, as much as I do not want what I deserve, as Christ has been formed in my heart I want Him to receive everything that He deserves. He deserves a church that will recognize their status as His elect and beloved bride … and act like it. He deserves to have His word revered, respected, and rightly handled. He deserves to be glorified through the eternal ages because of His finished, complete, fully-effective atoning work and the full salvation of His chosen people. He deserves to sit at the Father’s right hand and be lifted up above all names and all creation. He deserves to be worshiped and adored. He deserves the very best that His Father can prepare and give Him. And, I want Him to have it all.

Let me close this bit of new year’s observation by driving home one more vital point:

This is nothing like me.

Left to myself, I would always want my way, my fame, my art, my cleverness, and every sinful passion my evil heart could inspire. And I would be fully convinced that I deserved every moment of pleasure and egocentric gratification. That’s exactly what I’m like.

This small treatise is evidence of how effectively and sovereignly God has overcome and overwhelmed a wretch like me. I get no glory from it; nor have I earned any. He gets all the glory because He has done all the work, invested all the effort, and is fully responsible for any and all good results.

I am astounded at His grace.

I am secured by His mercy.

I am cradled in His love.

I am thankful.

I am humbled.

And I want Him more than I want myself.

Happy New Year.

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