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November 25, 2007
I’ve been listening to Prairie Home Companion on Saturday nights since the early ’80s. My mom and I used to listen while she was cooking supper. Now I’m the cook tuning in. My kids love to dance around my feet to the folk music while I chop an stir. PHC is a rare gem that the “decades cannot improve.” This radio show has been a thread that binds the many chapters of my life together.
Back in Tarentum, PA along the Allegheny River, there’s an old diner called Masserts that’s been serving up the best bean & bacon soup since I before I was born. Paul and I still have breakfast there when we visit my grandparents nearby. The place has never been remodeled. When we go in, there are always old-timers at the counter. It’s like stepping into a Rockwell painting. Behind the counter the grill sizzels with eggs, bacon, grilled cheeze, burgers, whatever….coffee is served in those classic, thick, white ceramic mugs, and there’s not one healthy choice on the menu. I love these places and experiences that are frozen in time that seem not to change.
In reality though, I suppose everything changes—everything except Truth. Contrary to popular belief systems, Truth is not relative to the situation. Every situation is relative to Truth. Knowing the Author of Truth shapes every decision, every thought, and every perspective of the world.
Martin Luther said it best:
A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;
Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.
And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.
That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.