Discipleship 101: The Battle of Wills - Brossura

Bartholomew, R. J.

Brossura

ISBN 10: 1477208348 ISBN 13: 9781477208342

Casa editrice: AuthorHouse, 2012

Riassunto

Discipleship 101 The Battle of Wills For false Christs and false prophets will rise and show great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. Matthew 24: 24 NKJV Two thousand years ago, a series of events took place that radic

Su questo libro

Estratto. © Ristampato con autorizzazione. Tutti i diritti riservati.

Discipleship 101

The Battle of WillsBy R. J. Bartholomew

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 R. J. Bartholomew
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-0834-2

Contents

Introduction:............................................................................vChapter 1: Train up a child .............................................................1Chapter 2: So they won't stray ..........................................................7Chapter 3: Close encounter of the third kind.............................................13Chapter 4: In the beginning, God???......................................................19Chapter 5: Religious Extremism, Superstitions, Vain Imaginations.........................27Chapter 6: Some Martyrs of the faith.....................................................39Chapter 7: A Disciple called Peter.......................................................45Chapter 8: Transformation Theology, Transformed Lives or Proselytes?.....................53Chapter 9: Sanctification, set apart for sacred use......................................61Chapter 10: Review and closing...........................................................67References:..............................................................................73

Chapter One

Train up a child ...

I don't like the idea of saying much about myself however it seems needful to give you some background. After all, most of what we learn comes from our own personal experiences and observations especially those learned in childhood.

I was born in 1940 in a tiny village in central PA called Seven Points. There was a one-room schoolhouse at one end of the village and a place of higher learning (a church) at the other end. Both still stand today although the schoolhouse is no longer used as such. We lived in a dilapidated rented farmhouse on the outskirts of the village. It had no electricity or running water and disappeared many years ago. My younger brother Frank was born some nineteen months later though I don't remember his entrance. He was the seventh child in our growing family that eventually grew to eight.

Of course, I didn't know there was a war going on nor did I know that the nation had come through a depression not many years before. We were a church going family. We were Lutherans whatever that meant. And we were dirt poor but I didn't know that either. Somewhere about the age of two we moved to another farmhouse owned by my Mom's father who lived on the adjoining farm. Like the place we'd just moved from, our new home had no electricity or running water. Since I didn't know what those were I naturally didn't miss them.

When I was about five years old, Dad and Mom bought a small house with four acres of land. We finally had something that was ours. We owned it! Though it's hard to describe, there was a decidedly new sense of freedom. I didn't realize it at the time but we even had electricity. Eventually, we even got an indoor bathroom. No more Saturday night baths in the old washtub. I guess it must have seemed rather crowded to some what with four brothers and three sisters. Our Mom and Dad occupied the only bedroom. My three older brothers slept in the unheated sun-porch. And my sisters and younger brother and I slept in the attached garage. Although the house has seen many renovations since, it was home for many years until I enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1960.

For the most part, I thoroughly enjoyed those childhood experiences. I wouldn't trade them for the world. One of the things that sticks in my mind from early childhood had to do with church. I was about five or six at the time. The preacher must have preached a pretty good sermon that day. Maybe I was just listening pretty good for a change. Whichever the case, I remember sitting there in church feeling real close to Jesus. It was like He knew me and cared about me even though I wasn't always the best behaved kid most of the time. For some brief moments He was like a hero to me along with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny of course. I guess when I learned that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny didn't really exist, my little mind figured this Jesus fellow fell into the same category.

As with many kids back then, I started earning my own money about the age of ten. Whether it was picking beans for the local cannery or delivering newspapers or working on local farms the opportunities seemed endless. And at twenty-five cents an hour I was able to buy my own school-clothes as well as other stuff. The first seeds of independence were taking root. I can't help but feel sorry for many kids today who aren't taught to fend on their own.

Eventually, that quest for financial independence resulted in a real `business' venture for my brother Frank and I, or so it seemed. We were somewhere around twelve and thirteen at the time. We hatched the idea of putting an empty chicken house to use. The plan was to buy some chickens so that we could sell eggs and when they stopped laying eggs we'd sell the chickens to the local poultry plant. We talked it over with Dad and got his approval with the understanding that we were entirely responsible for the project. First we made some necessary repairs and then measured the footage of the chicken house to determine how many chicks we could accommodate. We then scoured the farm literature looking for a breed of chicken that was known for good egg production as well as meat. With little difficulty we found one and ordered two hundred chicks, all hens of course. Needless to say it was a lot of work but we didn't mind that too much. The problem arose when we ran out of money before the chickens began producing eggs. Luckily, we had a banker (Dad) who understood our situation and was willing to float us a loan until we had our own cash flow. Eventually the eggs started coming and we not only were able to pay Dad back. We had enough cash for continuing operations and some spending cash as well. We just had to be careful not to get the two mixed.

Life wasn't all work and no play back then by any means. We had plenty of time for other activities and spent little time in the house. And there was the usual social networking but we didn't call it that back then. Besides school and sports there was junior choir and boy scouts and church catechism and such other stuff. I don't want to give you the impression that we were model kids. We got into our share of trouble from time to time but nothing serious.

By the time fall rolled around, we were acutely aware of the amount of feed two hundred chickens can consume. To help lower the cost, we seized the opportunity to glean some local corn fields. By the time the snow got too deep to continue gleaning we had accumulated thirty bushel or so. Not having a corncrib or other suitable storage, we found a way to make do or so we thought. We stored as much as we could in fifty five gallon barrels and the rest in wooden crates. When the weather warmed up we made an interesting discovery. The corn in the barrels stored fine as did most of the rest of it. That is, until the weather warmed up and we got to the bottom of one of the large wooden crates. A considerable amount of moisture had gotten in and found its way to the bottom.

As you may have guessed, the loose kernels had started to ferment. Actually, they were well into the fermentation process. Not wanting to be wasteful, we scooped out the fermented corn and placed a pile of it on the floor to see how the chickens would react. To our surprise, they seemed to like it. Pecking orders being what they are only a few got their fill. It didn't take long before they had a difficult time maneuvering. I can't help but wonder whether some of the eggs had a little more zip in them.

After about a year and a half or so, the egg production started to slow down. The hens were pretty fat by then. Maybe they were just getting lazy. They did make a tasty Sunday dinner now and then. When it seemed the cost of feed was nearing our cash flow we decided to call the poultry plant. We ended up with a check for over two hundred dollars to split between us. We were rich!

School was a mixture of pleasure and frustration. For the most part I enjoyed learning new stuff. Things seemed to change when I started Junior High. I really liked science and math. Geography was okay too but I couldn't see much sense in history and grammar and especially literature. How those things were going to help anyone survive and prosper was beyond me. And why should anyone care about some story that someone wrote that wasn't true? Why didn't he get a real job and get a life!?

Anyway, adulthood and true independence and freedom has a lot more challenge than keeping a flock of chickens contented or worrying about dumb plays. Our surrounding area suffered from chronic high unemployment due to a lack of industry. It still does today. My Dad worked at a large nationally known manufacturing plant in Sunbury. It was one of the few in the area and employed a lot of folks until union problems got so bad. The company finally had enough and closed the local plant and moved its operations to New Jersey. The move took its toll on many families including ours. Dad was in his fifties at the time and nobody wanted to hire him for what few jobs were available. He ended up leasing a gas station and, with some help from us kids, was able to eke out a living.

This being primarily an agricultural area, many, if not most, of the employment opportunities were seasonal. The pay was usually rather low as were the challenges. After tiring of the sporadic layoffs, I decided to enlist in the military. I figured I'd have a full time job with benefits included. Little did I realize the learning opportunities this decision would bring.

Chapter Two

So they won't stray ...

As nature would normally have it, there comes a time to leave the nest and venture out on your own. This moving out experience can bring with it a vast assortment of emotions. For whatever reasons, we usually didn't express our feelings verbally. I'm not sure why. A light snow covered the streets as Frank drove me to the train station. It was Valentines Day, 1960. I hated the idea of not seeing my girlfriend for three months and my family as well. At the same time, I was anticipating this new adventure and couldn't wait to get to boot camp.

As you may have heard, Paris Island is not known to be the ideal place for a relaxing twelve week vacation. I thought it seemed rather strange, though, to be shining brass doorknobs at 4:30 my first morning there. Especially, since they were pretty shiny already. And I couldn't figure out why the Drill Instructors seemed kind of mad at us. You'd think they'd give you a warm welcome. Like, hey guys, we're really glad you're here. Instead, they yelled at us and said some things that weren't very nice. Anyway, I was getting paid to do their bidding so let them yell all they want. With eighty some other recruits in our platoon I quickly learned to stay in the background. Just do what you're told and things will be fine. They've got plenty of others to pick on and yell at. For the most part, I enjoyed my stay at PI, especially the chow line and the rifle range.

After boot camp and infantry training I was sent to aviation training school to become a turbojet engine mechanic. I had dreamed of being a pilot but color blindness changed all that. My first duty station was with the Marine Air Reserve Training Detachment at the Naval Air Station in South Weymouth, MA. While there I learned to drink like the rest of the guys. I also met and fell in love with a beautiful Italian girl from the north side of Boston. She was Roman Catholic which really didn't matter to either of us at the time. That is, until we started getting serious and left our families in on things.

You'd have thought we started a civil war or something. Her parents didn't want their Catholic daughter marrying a Lutheran. My family was not thrilled with the idea of me marrying a Roman Catholic. Neither one of us had much knowledge about the bible or church history. (Nor did we care a whole lot.) We couldn't understand why all the fuss. After all we're all Christians, aren't we???

I had a little more than a year to go on my enlistment when I got orders to go to Japan. We decided that while in Japan I would go to the Catholic Chaplain and find out what Roman Catholicism was all about. To the angst of some, we got engaged prior to my departure.

The Chaplain at the base in Iwakuni was more than happy to set up a series of teaching sessions. I was informed that the disciple Peter was the rock on which Jesus built His church and that Peter was the first pope. What this meant was that Jesus appointed Peter to take His place as the new head of the church here on earth since Jesus was returning to heaven. Peter was therefore given full authority to change or to make up new rules and regulations he deemed appropriate or necessary so that the church could continue to function and expand in a unified manner. Furthermore, the popes that succeeded him were given that same authority. In other words, they had/ have full authority to function as though they themselves were actually God. Wow! You can't do better than that!

I became a Roman Catholic. After my return to the states and subsequent discharge in January of '64 we eloped to Hartford where I worked in a jet engine overhaul plant for a year and a half. We moved back to MA in August of '65 and eventually bought our first home in Chelmsford in '72.

I enjoyed being a Catholic. I guess a lot had to do with the pageantry and mystery of what went on. Things were going well for the most part. Our son and daughter were doing fine in school. I was working in a large research laboratory as a senior mechanical technician. We had our own home with plenty of space for the garden I wanted. There were opportunities for hunting and fishing. I loved homemade Italian cooking and had a good wife who knew how to cook. I loved the get togethers where we'd drink beer and have a good time. And if I did anything that caused any guilt, well, just go to confession and try not to do it again. Life was good, real good. At the same time, there was something that started to bother me immensely.

Depending on your age, you may recall the fighting that was going on in Ireland in the mid seventies. Catholics and Protestants were firebombing each others homes and killing each other. I'd see this on the nightly news and wonder, how can this be happening. We could be Catholic or Protestant. Occasionally, I'd open the bible to look for answers but it made no sense to me. I'd get to the part where lean cows ate fat cows and stuff like that and wonder what's that supposed to mean. It seemed night after night there was more news of continued fighting. I'd think of my own wife and kids and wonder what is wrong with those people. I could not understand how a supposedly loving God could allow his supposed children to behave like that and not do something about it.

As I mentioned, I had been working in a research laboratory for several years. My job was to help set up and conduct experiments and collect data for the scientist in charge. It was therefore necessary to take great care in each of those areas so as not to taint the data and end up with erroneous results. In so doing, I had learned to go by the facts as I saw them.

Based on the facts that I saw on the nightly news and my lack of any factual information about a God, I could no longer accept the notion that God existed. I had absolutely no proof, no real confirmation of his existence. I became a sincere yet caring atheist. We still attended church. It seemed that some of what they taught was good for the kids and we had a lot of friends that went there. It was a nice social club even though the God thing was just another hoax to try to control the minds of others. It seemed we now had the entire imaginary trinity, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and now God. I still tried to be a nice person but God was out of the picture.

I was somewhat surprised to learn I wasn't the only atheist in the building where I worked. Occasionally, the subject would come up during coffee break or at lunchtime. We had some interesting discussions that sometimes got a bit heated. After one such discussion, a coworker came up to me afterward and mentioned a book he thought I should read. It was a rather large book about the history of the Christian church written by a Seventh Day Adventist woman in the 1800's. Not wanting to be closed minded I read it cover to cover. I guess my friend's intent was to persuade me to his way of thinking. It didn't work. In fact, it helped solidify my views. If you've ever read about the crusades and inquisitions and the arrogance and cruelty of the popes and the ecclesia I'm sure you'll agree. It isn't very pretty. As time went on, the subject seemed to fade from our conversations as well as my thoughts. The emotional storm had passed and tranquility had returned. The question was settled. There was no such thing as a God so why worry about it.

In 1976, our second daughter was born and we found ourselves thinking that we could use some more living space. It seems with a new toddler comes an assortment of toys and so forth and things can start to get a bit crowded. I looked into some possible options and we decided to add a family room onto our cape style house. In the late spring of '79, I contacted a fellow who did carpentry work as a side job. He agreed to head up the project and we'd work together to build it. I drew up the plans and got the necessary permits. As yet, he hadn't stopped by to discuss things so I gave him a call. He was rather busy so I went ahead and had the excavating done and got the cellar walls poured. He was still unavailable so I installed the floor joists and the floor and ordered lumber to frame the addition. I gave him another call and found out he had been in a car accident a few days before and had a broken collarbone. By this time it was late summer and I had a backyard filled with lumber. It seemed it was time to make some proverbial lemonade.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Discipleship 101by R. J. Bartholomew Copyright © 2012 by R. J. Bartholomew. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Dettagli dell'edizione

• Editore: AuthorHouse
• Data di pubblicazione: 2012
• Lingua: Inglese
• ISBN 10: 1477208348
• ISBN 13: 9781477208342
• Rilegatura: Copertina flessibile
• Numero di pagine: 84
• Contatto del produttore: non disponibile
• Persona responsabile: GPSR Kontakt; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Germania