Appease At Any Price?

England stood on the brink of disaster in 1938. Hitler's rise to power was unopposed in Germany, as was his aggressive rearmament of Germany, in blatant disregard of the Versailles treaty closing WWI, which limited German production of war materiel. Austria fell. Czechoslovakia lay in Hitler's sites. Neville Chamberlain went to Munich to negotiate with (As Churchill called him) "Herr Hitler." He returned, triumphant, with a piece of paper mutually signed, stating Germany and England would never go to war. A naive venture. Leadership calls for a willingness to stand for principle and to speak plainly about the issues. The stakes are high when principle is cast aside in the face of empty promises or in the face of throwing away all that is valuable and hard won. The following words from Mr. Churchill, given in the midst of those turbulent events, speak volumes, if we will listen.

  Winston Churchill addressed the House of Commons on 5 October 1938 with these sobering, prophetic words. The underlying principles are timeless though the names and dates change. He drew from the vast history of England to inform his remarks and appeal to the lessons of history:

     ...You have to consider the character of the Nazi movement and the rule which it implies. The Prime Minister (Chamberlain) desires to see cordial relations between this country and Germany. There is no difficulty at all in having cordial relations with the German people. Our hearts go out to them, Bu they have no power. You must have diplomatic and correct relations, but there can never be friendship between the British democracy and the Nazi Power, that Power which spurns Christian ethics, which cheers its onward course by a barbarous paganism, which vaunts the spirit of aggression and conquest, which derives its strength and perverted pleasure from persecution, and uses, as we have seen, with pitiless brutality the threat of murderous force. That Power cannot ever be the trusted friend of the British democracy. 
     What I find unendurable is the sense of our country falling into the power, into the orbit and influence of Nazi Germany, and of our existence becoming dependent upon their goodwill or pleasure. It is to prevent that that I have tried my best to urge the maintenance of every bulwark of defence - first the timely creation of an Air Force superior to anything within striking distance of our shores; secondly, the gathering together of a collective strength of many nations; and thirdly, the making of alliances and military conventions, all within the Covenant, in order to gather together forces at any rate to restrain the onward movement of this Power. It has all been in vain. Every position has been successfully undermined and abandoned on specious and plausible excuses. We do not want to be led upon the high road to becoming a satellite of the German Nazi system of European domination. In a very few months, we shall be confronted with demands with which we shall no doubt be invited to comply. These demands may affect the surrender of territory or the surrender of liberty, I forsee and foretell that the policy of submission will carry with it the restrictions upon the freedom of speech and debate in Parliment, on public platforms, and discussions in the press, for it will be said - indeed, I hear it said sometimes now - that we cannot allow the Nazi system of dictatorship to be criticised by ordinary, common English politicians, Then, with a Press under control, in part direct but more potently indirect, with every organ of public opinion doped and chloroformed into acquiescence we shall be conducted along further stages of our journey...(Never Give In! The Best of Winston Churchill's Speeches; Winston S. Churchill)

What do you think stands to be lost as you consider the political and international landscape?

Sunday Thought: "Strike, Lord"

     Perhaps trial presses on you today. I read one of the daily readings from Octavius Winslow's Morning Thoughts  (June 13) in which he quoted Martin Luther's words of determination in the face of trial. Luther faced relentless vertigo, ringing ears, and the constant harassment of his soul's enemy.

     Thomas Brooks (see Smooth Stones from Ancient Brooks; Charles Spurgeon) also quoted Luther's remarks on trial: "It was good for me to be afflicted!" (Psalm 119:71) God afflicts you, O Christian, in love! Therefore Luther cries out, 'Strike, Lord, strike, Lord! and spare not!' I believe the quote continues,"now my sins are gone; strike as hard as thou wilt if transgression be covered."

    His grasp of justification and forgiveness ran deeper than the pain of trial. How do you fare? I find this is the battleground - this and the pride Brooks refers to below. Are we willing to let Him strike? Do we see His striking, with forgiveness, can do us no harm but only good? Change my heart, O, Lord.


      Some further thoughts from Thomas Brooks, The Mute Christian Under the Smarting Rod: 

     Oh! labor every day to be more humble and more low and little in your own eyes. 'Who am I,' says the humble soul—'but that God should cross me in this mercy, and take away that mercy, and pass a sentence of death upon every mercy? I am not worthy of the least mercy, I deserve not a crumb of mercy, I have forfeited every mercy.' 

     Only by pride comes contention. It is only pride that puts men upon contending with God and men.  A humble soul will lie quiet at the foot of God, it will be contented with bare necessities. A dinner of green herbs relishes well with the humble man's palate; whereas a stalled ox is but a coarse dish to a proud man's stomach. A humble heart thinks none less than himself, nor none worse than himself. A humble heart looks upon small mercies as great
mercies; and great afflictions as small afflictions; and small afflictions as no afflictions; and therefore sits mute and quiet under all. Do but keep humble, and you will keep silent before the Lord.
     Pride kicks, and flings, and frets; but a humble man has still his hand upon his mouth. Everything on this side of hell is mercy—much mercy, rich mercy to a humble soul; and therefore he remains mute under the smarting rod. 

Golf Builds Character(s)

     For some reason, golf seems good for a Saturday. Maybe Saturday will be for sports stuff. Golf is a favorite, though my experience is well described by Rick O'Reilly, gifted sports writer. I started when I was young (12) for no particular reason. I did not have access to play but the idea of hitting a stationary ball seemed easier than hitting a moving ball - which I could not do, though tried hard.  So, golf stuck. It stuck even when I really stunk - I was deceived. It stuck when other equally bad friends started. This provided much humor which made the frustration easier to take. Perseverance proved profitable though, I hasten to add, I can completely lose all ability in a one day period. Why? I have no idea. So, first, a good working explanation of the pain golf inflicts on those who play; then thoughts from a man who is much more than the wit represented here - read more about him in vintage Sports Illustrated articles and his own page. (No offense to Mr. Rodriguez - he is still with us)


     Golf is the cruelest game, because eventually it will drag you out in front of the whole school, take your lunch money and slap you around.  ~Rick Reilly, "Master Strokes," Sports Illustrated

 Chi Chi's Matador Dance

“I'm getting so old, I don't even buy green bananas anymore.” Chi Chi Rodriguez

“When Lee and Jack win, it is good for golf. When I win, it is better.” Chi Chi Rodriguez

 "Sure, I'm making a lot of money now, but years ago the IRS would send me get-well cards." Chi Chi

 "I've heard people say putting is 50 percent technique and 50 percent mental. I really believe it is 50 percent technique and 90 percent positive thinking. See, but that adds up to 140 percent, which is why nobody is 100 percent sure how to putt."  Chi Chi

I'm playing like Tarzan - but scoring like Jane. Chi Chi

Do you play? 

 

Thanksgiving Thought

     We will one day see the Grand Design and the providential dealings of God in our lives. The man in our story, Elgin Staples, enjoyed the privilege of experiencing God's hand in a powerful way. Many of us face perplexity in variegated forms - let this be a reminder to each of us the be thankful this Thanksgiving for God's ceaseless and intensely personal care for us. The following is taken from The Grand Weaver: How God Shapes Us Through the Events of Our Lives by Ravi Zacharias:

     In the book Finding Your Way, Gary LaFerla tells an amazing story, gleaned from the records of the United States Naval Institute following the Second World War. The USS Astoria engaged the Japanese during the battle for Savo Island before any other ships from the U.S. naval fleet arrived. During the crucial night of the battle, August 8, the Astoria scored several direct hits on a Japanese vessel but was itself badly damaged and sank the next day. Here’s how LaFerla tells the rest of the story: 

The U.S.S. Astoria 

     About 0200 hours a young Midwesterner, Signalman 3rd Class Elgin Staples, was swept overboard by the blast when the Astoria’s number one eight-inch gun turret exploded. Wounded in both legs by shrapnel and semi-shock, he was kept afloat by a narrow lifebelt that he managed to activate with a simple trigger mechanism. 

     At around 0600 hours, Staples was rescued by a passing destroyer and returned to the Astoria, whose captain was attempting to save the cruiser by beaching her. The effort failed, and Staples, still wearing the same lifebelt, found himself back in the water. It was lunchtime. Picked up again, this time by the USS President Jackson (AP – 37), he was one of 500 survivors of the battle who were evacuated to Noumea. On board the transport, Staples hugging that lifebelt with gratitude, looked at that small piece of equipment for the first time. He scrutinized every stitch of the lifebelt that had served him so well. It had been manufactured by Firestone Tire and Rubber Company of Akron, Ohio, and bore a registration number. 

     Given home leave, Staples told his story and asked his mother, who worked for Firestone, about the purpose of the number on the belt. She replied that the company insisted on personal responsibility for the war effort, and that the number was unique and assigned to only one inspector. Staples remembered everything about the lifebelt, and quoted the number. There was a moment of stunned silence in the room and then his mother spoke: “That was my personal code that I affixed to every item I was responsible for approving." 

Sunday Thought

Charles Spurgeon tells the story of how George Whitefield, the great 18th century evangelist, was hounded by a group of detractors who called themselves the "Hell Fire Club". When Whitefield would

 

stand outside preaching, this little group of young men would stand off to one side and mimc him. They did not believe a word of it. The ring-leader was a man called Thorpe. One day, Thorpe was mimicking Whitefield to his cronies, delivering his sermon with brilliant accuracy, perfectly imitating his tone and facial expressions, when he himself was so pierced that he sat down and was converted on the spot.

Whitefield was a mighty preacher used of God on the Great Awakening. It is said his voice boomed enough to hold 20,000 people's attention in the open air. A story exists of a conversion three miles from where he was standing. Among other notables, Ben Franklin heard him preach and said he "had his pockets picked by Whitefield," though no record exits of a further response.

Reportedly, he could say the word "Mesopotamia" in such a way as to melt audiences and that word made its way into most sermons, regardless of topic. Before amplification, it is amazing God gave him the voice and body to project to such numbers and with such effect.

They Couldn't Hit an Elephant at This Dist...

I have often heard the tale of an assumption which cost a Civil War general dearly. Union General John Sedgwick's last words are widely reported as, "They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist..."

It may be inaccurate. Civil War Home reports the testimony of Martin McMahon, Chief of Staff, who was eyewitness to the sad end of a man widely loved by his men:

"I gave the necessary order to move the troops to the right, and as they rose to execute the movement the enemy opened a sprinkling fire, partly from sharp-shooters. As the bullets whistled by, some of the men dodged. The general said laughingly, " What! what! men, dodging this way for single bullets! What will you do when they open fire along the whole line? I am ashamed of you. They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance." A few seconds after, a man who had been separated from his regiment passed directly in front of the general, and at the same moment a sharp-shooter's bullet passed with a long shrill whistle very close, and the soldier, who was then just in front of the general, dodged to the ground. The general touched him gently with his foot, and said, " Why, my man, I am ashamed of you, dodging that way," and repeated the remark, " They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance." The man rose and saluted and said good-naturedly, " General, I dodged a shell once, and if I hadn't, it would have taken my head off. I believe in dodging." The general laughed and replied, "All right, my man; go to your place."
        For a third time the same shrill whistle, closing with a dull, heavy stroke, interrupted our talk; when, as I was about to resume, the general's face turned slowly to me, the blood spurting from his left cheek under the eye im a steady stream. He fell in my direction ; I was so close to him that my effort to support him failed, and I fell with him."

Thing are Not Always as They Appear

One can only imagine what it must have been for him to be on the sidelines watching. Possibly one of the finest American generals, and one who would yet make his most significant mark, watched the greatest invasion in history, not from the turret of a tank, but from England. His sole function was that of decoy.

Gen. George S. Patton wrote on 6 June 1944, "It is hell to be on the sidelines and see all the glory eluding me." 

Andrew Carroll edited a compilation letters, Extrordinary Correspondence from American Wars: WAR LETTERS (Scribner; 2001) including correspondence from Patton to his son at West Point on the day of the invasion. Carroll gives the background: "But as much as he hated it, Patton was as integral part of one of the most brilliantly orchestrated deceptions in military history: Operation Fortitude. As tens of thousands of Allied troops poured onto the beaches of Normandy, Adolf Hitler was certain it was a feint. The real invasion force, he insisted, would leave from Dover and strike at Pas-de-Calais. German reconnaissance had determined that an army of enormous size was mobilizing near Dover under the command of Patton, the Allied general the Germans most feared. In fact, there was no army. Hollywood set designers had helped the Allies construct dummy airfields, oil storage depots, and landing craft near Dover. Full-sized inflatable rubber tanks were lined up in massive rows. Fake messages were transmitted to simulate radio traffic, and double agents fed the Germans misleading information. Field Marshal Erwin Rommel pleaded with Hitler to release armored divisions from the Calais region after the Normandy landings, but Hitler refused, convinced the main assault was still to come. On D-Day itself, the commander of the fake army had virtually nothing to do. Crushed he was missing the "opening kick-off," a restless Patton whittled away the hours writing in his diary and sending off letters, including one to his son George, enrolled at West Point."

Here is a brief sample of that letter (as written) if you care to read further:
"At 0700 this morning the BBC announced that the German Radio had just come out with an announcement of the landing of Allied Paratroops and a large number of assault craft near shore.  So that is it.

This group of unconquerable heros whom I command are not yet in but we will be soon - I wish I was there now as it is a lovely sunny day for a battle and I am fed up with just sitting.

I have no immediate idea of being killed but one can never tell and none of us can live for ever so if I should go dont worry but set your self to do better than I have.

All men are timid on entering any fight whether it is the first fight or the last fight all of us are timid. Cowards are those who let their timidity get the better of their manhood. You will never do that because because of your blood lines... ...What success I have had results from the fact I have always been certain that my military reactions were correct. Many people do not agree with me; they are wrong. The unerring jury of history written long after both of us are dead will prove me correct."