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Journal Entry -- March 14, 2007

Yesterday was one of those typically good days in an agrarian life, though there were some embellishing moments that go with working closely with animals. It started right after Sam & Sadie had finished their morning chow and took in a lengthy draft of water. I was standing in the corral looking out over our back paddock with the two long eared ballerinas behind me. Apparently, Sam decided to pay me a kind thanks for the delicious breakfast. As I was turning around, I found myself looking at point blank range up his football field length face into his deep brown eyes, wherein he immediately placed his warm, wet prehensile lips -- dripping with water and saliva -- smack dab on my face, which soaked my beard. Ah yes, there is nothing like a brisk face plunge of warm saliva seasoned with hay to start one’s day. Thanks Sam.

Later in the afternoon as we were harnessing them they performed their punctual pre-work bowel release, of course, right at our feet where we need to work. No problem, that just goes with the territory. However, their timing was perfect as the lines from Sadie’s harness just happen to fall into the fresh pile, which she immediately stirred up with her rear hooves. Now, normally I have my gloves on but I had loaned them to Jeff because he gets an allergic reaction working with the mules without them. There simply wasn’t time to wait, as the lines needed to be properly secured, no matter that they were disappearing into the rich, olive drab pile. I grabbed them with my bare hands and disengaged them. Yup, I had olive drab colored hands. Fortunately for me there was a spigot close by so after a few minutes of vigorous hand rubbing under the cold water, I was ready to do it again. Don’t ask me how it happened, but they managed to fall a second time, so I was back to the hand coloring process followed by the cold plunge. Some days no matter how careful you are things just go awry and a wet.

The beard soaking, green hands, and harnessing were now behind me; it was time for the gravy. After using the team to fetch the logging arch which was parked in front of our shop and driving it back to the front paddock, I was ready for a long wagon ride around the Rocky Fork Creek-Crooked River loop. It was a little on the warm side, about 72 degrees with high humidity. The stiff breezes were delightful, only the longer I went the cooler it got, until I realized that I was being soaked in a fine mist of Missouri mule sweat that was pouring off of Sam & Sadie and blowing back on me. It wasn’t too bad, as I made several stops to rest them . . . and myself. My ribs still hurt but working the lines seemed to help relieve the pain. Oh well, it’s all in a day of Missouri muleskinning, which I wouldn’t trade for anything.

We managed to film a good portion of yesterday’s ride and depending on how it came out, we will be making a DVD available for those of you who want to see a little of our neck of the woods from our viewpoint, behind a team of grand sorrel draft mules. I’ll keep you posted, should it work out. --- The Missouri Rev

Journal Entry -- March 3, 2007

Well, I’m Back

“Well,” as Sam Gamgee said, “I’m back” . . . but not from the land of Mordor, though at times it sure felt like it. The more I drive through the behemoth cities of our nation and the urban sprawl that rapidly metastasizes from them the more I am impressed with the total dominion the corporate industrial state has over our nation, both its people and land. You know what type of sprawl I am talking about, where good farmland and thick woodlands are replaced with expanding sterile neighborhoods of identical, expensive row houses spaced fifteen feet apart, bordered by glitzy skid rows of franchised commercial food joints, gas station convenience stores and payday loan centers, super malls and super Wal-Marts, and various entertainment businesses, all overshadowed by sparkling corporate industrial parks that stand tall in their steel, glass, and concrete armor. The ruling moneychangers have learned well the powerful alchemy that turns debt into money and people into slaves through the magic wand of “sound banking legislation and regulation.” One economy to rule them all, one economy to find them, one economy to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

While on the way to a Tennessee mule auction a few weeks back I spotted a B2 stealth bomber at sunset cruising slowly at low altitude through some low level fog and clouds. With it meandering so slowly bathed in an intense pink-orange hue it was truly a sight to behold, which reminded me of a black Nazgul flying its fell beast over the dead marshes of Mordor in methodic obedience to its master’s call. I know, JR Tolkien emphatically claimed that The Lord of the Rings was not an allegory, but he despised and feared the growing corporate, industrial state that emerged from WWI and made it very clear in his other writings. Besides, he did little in his trilogy to veil his concepts of real world evil, which can be summed up by the words of one of the evil characters in his trilogy, Saruman, the lackey of Sauron, “The old world will burn in the fires of industry. Forests will fall. A new order will rise. We will drive the machinery of war with the sword and the spear and the iron fist of the Orc. We have only to remove those who oppose us.” This is the empire language of economic dominion, enforced by the sword of the state.

Even with its rundown, patchwork appearance I am most thankful to be back home where I can drive Sam & Sadie down the meandering dirt roads that lace the beautiful silent valleys crowned with trees, where the crisp wind in my face mingled with the smell of mule sweat and harness quickens me the to the simple realities of an agrarian lifestyle. Except for the sharp jolt from a pothole or bursting flight of cackling blackbirds, life can be gloriously subdued and peaceful when driving a team of mules down a backwoods road in backwards Missouri . . . no flashing billboards and profane neon signage, no bumper to bumper traffic with plumes of nauseous exhaust gases, no endless torrents of restless people that burn themselves out going everywhere, but nowhere important, like swarms of driven bugs endlessly circling a light bulb till they drop. The world is leaving us behind in the dust, which suits me fine, for we know Who made the dust and His meek shall inherit the earth.

Spring Has Arrived

In the perfect accompaniment of a booming thunderstorm I am penning this section of the blog entry while listening to a delightful Kruger Brothers song, Tennessee Stud, which is on their great CD, Up18North . . . and to put a finishing touch on the moment I am also enjoying a wonderful evening cup of coffee – Peruvian style – half milk and half coffee sweetened with sugar. Only in my case I have substituted the sugar for a dollop of raw honey and the milk with raw, organic cream that my daughter and I picked up this afternoon on the way home from piano lessons. It’s pretty simple, but it doesn’t get any better.

There is no mistake about it; spring has arrived in our neck of the woods for sure, though the orchestral announcement of lightning and thunder is not always the best indicator, as we have had tornados and thunderstorms at Thanksgiving. Some people mark spring by the vernal equinox that arrives around the 21st of March. The weathermen around here mark it by the calendar – March 1st. I mark it by none of these nor as some do by the green growth that explodes around here with a vengeance, as the muddy land is still locked in an oozy mosaic of rich browns and grays. No, I mark spring with the appearance of certain critters, chiefly turtles and turkeys. On the way to piano lessons we spotted two painted turtles sunning themselves on a log in a nearby bog and on the way home we managed to spot thirty-two turkeys that were congregating in open pastures in prelude to the courting dances of May. Later on, while we Missouri Woods boys were exercising Sam & Sadie with the wagon in taking them on the hilly Rocky Fork – Crooked River loop, I managed to spot sixty-five more turkeys, making it a total of ninety seven . . . yup, it’s spring for sure.

Treva Ropp Update

Treva was released from the hospital a little over three weeks ago and is doing far better than expected, which has been her case since the beginning, to the praise and glory of God. About eighty-five percent of the remaining open wounds have healed since arriving home. I have been unable to contact Philip since then until today when he called me. In keeping with his Amish practice he keeps an answering machine somewhere away from home and returns calls as he has time. As I thought, he has been making hay while the sun doesn’t shine, that is, get too hot as it becomes nearly intolerable to log in the hot, muggy woods of Missouri during the summer, which isn’t all that far off. He was upbeat and humorous as usual, and very happy that Treva is home and getting back on track. I want to thank you all for having faithfully kept Philip and Treva in prayer.

Why the Dangerous Work?

With Missouri Woods taking on real momentum, form, and direction, we have been quite busy both at home and in the various places we have traveled of late. This past February, besides interviewing old-time muleskinners and sawyers to learn all we can of the vanishing trade and training with Sam & Sadie to get them in prime shape, we completed three of the five blocks of a forestry course that is necessary to get certification as “Professional Timber Harvesters” by the Missouri Forest Products Association. All but one block is devoted to the chainsaw method developed by the famous logger Soren Eriksson called the “game of logging,” which is the safest method there is in felling trees. We are very impressed with the measure of control it gives the logger, something we are most thankful for since tree felling can be quite unpredictable and exceedingly dangerous.

I was once asked why we would we would ever choose such dangerous, toilsome work, when we all (speaking largely of me) look like great candidates for a new “over the hill gang” movie and this type of work surely requires young buckaroos in great physical condition, especially in the vital category of sprinting when trees come crashing down or mules take off. I am not denying that I am slower and stiffer than I use to be, but that’s largely physically, and even there this new calling has me feeling better than I have for years. But in my older age I have become, by God’s grace and years spent in the school of Christ, much faster in the realm of wisdom, precaution, and trust, trust in the Lord. Beyond the fact that God gives His people all the grace necessary to accomplish those things He calls them to, and He has called many old ones to do amazing things, who else should steward His land, steward His forests . . . corporations with safe, “efficient” machinery that strip mine the trees and leave the remaining forests greatly damaged and prone to disease (Pro. 14:12)? . . . the physically fit wicked that profane Him and defile His land (Lev. 18:24-30)? . . . or else our children or the inexperienced young among us (2Cor. 12:14-15)? If the present Christian generation in authority will not start the process of biblical reformation in economics and land stewardship, then who will? Passing the buck “while the getting is good” will only bring more tribulation and sorrow upon our children and grandchildren, and there are no age exemptions to biblical repentance and reformation, we will answer to the Lord for what we have passed unto the children He has given us.

We are called to live by example and Joshua was no spring chicken when the Lord called Him to lead His people into the Promised Land, for the Lord does not delight in the strength of the horse; He takes no pleasure in the legs of a man. The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, In those who hope in His mercy (Psalm 147:10-11). I am not willfully naïve either, as I am constantly reminded at the end of each day by the painful aches in my older bones and muscles that I must pace myself as unto the Lord and spare my body by using the mind He gave me. There is no doubt about it, what we have set our hearts to do is very hard, dangerous work, but we have found it not impossibly so. In fact, by God’s grace and providential care, I think we could not be anymore qualified than we are for such a calling, as we are discovering that it is the rich understanding He has given us in covenant theology, biblical law, and biblical agrarianism along with the heart to do it that is making all of the difference in our progress.

It is not as many think the brawn or beauty of youth or the savvy of shrewd business tactics and the right connections that leads to true success and prosperity, though the world’s hastily gained riches may deceive many. No, it is fearing the Lord through obeying His commandments in faithful covenant keeping that leads to lasting true prosperity and generational blessings (Deu. 4:5-10, 6:1-3, 8:5-20; John 14:15, 1John 5:3-5). He who tills his land will have plenty of bread, but he who follows frivolity will have poverty enough! A faithful man will abound with blessings, but he who hastens to be rich will not go unpunished (Pro. 28:19-20).

Somebody has got to lead the charge up the steep hill of agrarian reformation and I do not think it should be our children. The time will come soon enough when we will pass the baton to them, and, hopefully, a tangible, established baton that has already gone a long ways up the hill and cleared out some of the dangers. Speaking of danger, one cannot be any safer than in the center of God’s will, something I’ve learned time and again in the many years I have had the honor to serve Him in the dangerous adventures He has taken me through, thus far. We are all far safer doing the Lord’s will while pressed on all sides by imminent danger, than by living “safe and secure” in the comfort of our homes while living in rebellion to Him. Though I have stumbled many times in my human weakness and blindness and have, thus, come into many dangerous situations, many which I was not aware of until after the fact, the Lord has never failed to guide, uphold, and protect me. Great are the Lord’s tender mercies.

Maintaining Good Works

It never ceases to amaze me how many Christians steer entirely away from self-employment because it requires that one depend entirely upon the Lord’s daily blessing and providence to make a living sufficient to provide the needs of a family . . . especially when there is no “safety net” protection that corporate and government type jobs offer. It is the “high risk and extreme difficulty” of maintaining one’s own business in the giant’s world of corporate dominion that scares many away. We have been taught the world’s pragmatism that is far wiser and prudent to seek the “guaranteed” income and perks, worker-ant based “careers” and jobs proffered by the global colony, where come hell or high water that paycheck will be there, and if not, at least an unemployment check or other subsidy. I realize that not everyone has been gifted with an entrepreneurial bone and zeal for adventure, which can lead to very trying circumstances at times, and that some are called to labor under the oversight of others, but who should the Christian work for if given the choice . . . the corporate state or the godly businesses of the Lord’s people who have it in their hearts to bless their workers and their children according to God’s word? That said, you’ll likely ask, “Where are the godly businesses,” which is precisely my point. When is the Church going to wake up smell the roses of mammon?

I also realize that we live in difficult times and that many believers are forced to work where they can get it, for which they are thankful and rightly so, but is it the Lord’s best for the long run and their children’s future? I can hear the excuses now, “Can daily life ever get any different . . . this is as good as it gets this side of Heaven.” But if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. Just whom are we serving and whose kingdom are we truly building? I know from personal experience that it is hard enough at times to just make ends meet, but is our walk with the Lord ordained to be a diminished one of daily drudgery on a ruthless treadmill that is beyond His sovereign hand, which prevents us from even considering let alone planning our children’s futures according to the rich promises of our Savior and King? But seek the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added to you. Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom (Luke 12:31-32).

Dare we believe and hope for something far better, something that has no sorrow and enslaving strings added to it (Pro. 10:22), or should we in pragmatic resignation just throw in the towel to any hope of living in a godly culture and economy because the secular powers that be exercise tremendous dominion in seeming perpetuity (Psa. 37: 35-36). Or is it because they proffer many opportunities, good salaries, and plenty of credit, and who could ask for more in a world co-ruled by the devil (Pro. 15:16)? Perhaps, it’s the comfort and security of familiar territory, the guaranteed leeks and garlic of Egypt (Num. 11:4-6) which appear far more reasonable compared to the “uncertain provisions” of the wilderness that leads to the so-called promised land of God’s generational blessing (Phil. 4:19)? I have seen this fear or disdain of working directly as unto the Lord paralyze many brethren from the most glorious and worthwhile work there is, laboring under the gospel of the kingdom in covenanted union with likeminded brethren to build a godly culture unto the glory of our King and Great Shepherd, the Lord Jesus Christ, while stewarding His lands according to His commands.

This is a faithful saying, and these things I want you to affirm constantly, that those who have believed in God should be careful to maintain good works. These things are good and profitable to men (Titus 3:8). The word maintain comes from the Greek word proistemi, which means to rule, maintain, or be over. The word works comes from the Greek word ergon, which means labor, business, employment, or occupation. Those who believe in God, especially as their true and sovereign provider, should evidence such faith by being over and maintaining their own businesses, as He provides, which fruits are quite profitable to men. I realize that this would be a major leap for many, but in my opinion it is not impossible, else why would the Lord ask it of us through his faithful servant Paul, a tentmaking Apostle?

Is it the Lord’s will that the majority of American Christian men give their most productive time, sweat, gifts, an loyalty to corporations and businesses whose worldviews deny God and who exploit their employee’s valuable labor to insure the long-term continuity of themselves and the debt-based economy which empower them? In claiming that they are merely doing their biblical duty in putting “family first,” many Christian men are in fact putting them last by not seeking first the kingdom of God and His righteousness but rather in seeking first the kingdoms of men and their prosperity and peace. One could not put their families first anymore than by putting Christ first in being a faithful covenant keeper in building His kingdom first, promoting His culture first, and putting the community of Christ first. The popular though false notion that putting family first means doing whatever it takes, denies the truth that the Lord can provide all their needs in doing His work, His way, according to His commandments (standards).

Moving On

Once we are finished with the course in June we will receive our certification, which also opens the doors for us to practice restorative forestry on state lands, as well, which is something we believe the Missouri Department of Conservation may seek our services for. Perhaps you may think that contracting with the state betrays the tenets of biblical agrarianism. It really depends how and Daniel is a great example of one who did so righteously before the Lord in serving on the Babylonian government. Though we may live in a time of captivity like Daniel where the state has a stranglehold on nearly all things, the earth is not the Devil’s but the Lord’s and we are of the mind to do the King’s business in stewarding all His forests, even those the state lays claim to, if our King makes the way.

In fact, I couldn’t think of a better way to live out the Gospel than to be on the forefront of Christian community building and land stewardship, wherever that takes us. Someday when the Lord is pleased once again with His people here in America, having worked repentance and reformation among them, He will entrust the rich forests and farmlands back to those who name Him and prove it by keeping His covenant, so they can restore them to a biblically sustainable, generational productivity to His glory and honor. A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, But the wealth of the sinner is stored up for the righteous (Pro. 13:22). Until then, we must do as all His people have been commanded throughout the many times they have found themselves in captivity by the hand of their Lord. Build houses and dwell in them; plant gardens and eat their fruit. Take wives and beget sons and daughters; and take wives for your sons and give your daughters to husbands, so that they may bear sons and daughters—that you may be increased there, and not diminished. And seek the peace of the city where I have caused you to be carried away captive, and pray to the Lord for it; for in its peace you will have peace (Jer. 29:5-7). This is not talking about seeking the peace and prosperity of the wicked, nor replicating their methods in pietist isolation. It is proactive repentance and reformation at the local level of community according to God’s law, right where He would have us . . . on the land.

On a Painful Note

I finish this posting on a painful note, one that I brought upon myself by not following one of my two cardinal rules in dealing with mules that weigh nearly a ton each: before passing between Sam & Sadie when they are chained to their trough always be sure to part the red seas wide, that is, part their red haunches wide. This morning I didn’t part them wide enough and when passing through Sadie moved towards Sam and crunched me against him. I felt the muscle pop in my ribs and now I breathe like a rabbit and probably will for a few days until I mend. The other rule for which I have followed without error is always wear steel toed boots around them. My boots bear the many deep scars where they were stepped on by large hooves with steel shoes. Oh well, God is good to teach us lessons, if only we would consistently remember them.

Pictures

I have included some pictures of what we are doing. Please drop in and leave a comment or two, as is not only encourages me, but many others who read this blog. May God bless you in doing His will according to His grace. ---- The Missouri Rev


Yours truly test driving the logging arch for the first time, without a log. Ben Hur, watch out!!


Art is driving the arch with an osage orange log in tow. The neighbor's dogs are cheering on Sam & Sadie.


Jeff is giving the arch a brisk run with Sam & Sadie trotting along in unison.

The Rayville hazmat team. Actually, the crew is trying out the new safety gear and saws for the first time.

We start out with an enormous elm snag over 36" in diameter. It appears to be sound, so we expect it to land where we have planned it, Lord willing. Art is using a Jonsered 2171 with a 36" bar to make his first cut.

Now for the second cut.


The wedge drops; so far so good. We chose to create a high stump so we could cut more on it later.


Art makes the plunge cut to get the hinge just right and then moves the bar back away from the wedge cut until the dead giant silently starts its last journey down.


Success! The tree landed where it was planned.


Art enjoys the spoils of conquest, the delicious wedge of elm.


Art (on the right) and myself are out for an exercise run heading out of town to try the steep hills east of it. Because we are an uncommon sight in the Rayville area, Jeff follows behind in the dodge truck to keep us safe. The stumps from the downed snag make great seats.


After Jeff had worked them pretty hard on a few steep hills, I head it back into town.


Art faithfully follows as the rear guard.


Here's a good look at our harness setup.


Sam & Sadie make it to our store front and office for the first time ever. It felt good.

Urgent Prayer Request

Some of you know the KSMilkmaid, Christina Fuller and her husband Brian, who is battling cancer. They are in the midst of an exceedingly difficult trial and could use your earnest prayers.

My trip to Tennesee and the backwoods of Kentucky was wonderful; I'll try to fill you in when I get a chance. Right now I need to get out and do some training with Sam & Sadie before it gets colder.

--- The Missouri Rev

Treva Ropp update and more prayer requests

Before I give the update on Treva, please keep in prayer the Aspiring Agrarian’s father, Jon Caudle Sr., as he recovers from brain surgery, where he had a mass removed from around his pituitary gland. He is doing well, but will have an uphill battle with fatigue in getting back on his feet. He will be hard to keep out if his pulpit, so pray he have the grace and patience to make a full recovery first.

Treva is recovering well, though she has needed some skin graft surgery, as some of her burns were too severe for the salve, though it continues to alleviate pain and speed up healing. The doctors are now talking about 2 weeks before she can go home. As for Philip, with him staying at the hospital and sleeping on a couch in the hall, he managed to pick up a staff infection for which he was promptly sent home after receiving a major dose of antibiotics. Hospitals can be a very dangerous place to be. I am glad to report, however, that he is rapidly recovering at home and has gained back most of his strength . . . enough to head today to Paris, Tennessee, for what he calls a genuine hillbilly mule auction, the best draft mule auction in the nation. Jeff and I will be joining him there to get a real education in mules, as there will be over five hundred there. If all works out well, we will also be looking into some Mammoth Jack stock with Philip before heading back. Please keep the Ropps and us in prayer.

Being of strong Scottish ancestry, when Philip mentioned a “hillbilly auction” I had to give him the history behind the term hillbilly. The term refers to the Scots-Irish -- Scots who lived in the Ulster, Ireland (brought into the Ulster area in the late 1600’s because of their remarkable fighting abilities so as to fend off attempts by Catholic kings to take Ulster) and eventually settled in Appalachia and the Ozarks -- like my ancestors who moved to Kentucky from Pennsylvania in the late 1790’s. These Scots brought with them their music, which celebrated their history and faith, which included ballads depicting the defeat of the Catholic king James II by William, Prince of Orange, at the battle of Boyne, Ireland in 1690. The faithful men of Prince William were known as “Orangemen” or “Billy Boys” and in America they were known as “hillbillies,” particularly in the wooded hills and mountains of the Appalachian region. Since then it has become a derogatory term, partly due the horrific apostasy that has occurred among them since the War of Northern Aggression, which has turned many of them into ignorant heathen. Even so, there are many today whom the Lord is saving and restoring to the strong reformed faith of their Scottish fathers who also have within them the same godly desire to stand for the truth . . . aye thar laddie! --- The Missouri Rev

A Visitor from down South

I apologize for being late in sharing with you a delightful visit we had from Matt Davis, a good brother in the Lord who is a regular within Christian agrarian blogging circles and a loyal visitor on this blog. Matt, his wife Stacey, and their five girls and one boy, along with a seventh child due in April, live in the Lake Pontchartrain region of southern Louisiana. Matt has been a regular commentator to this blog and many others wherein he has expressed a genuine interest in Christian agrarianism, hence his visit here to see what we are about in the rural backwoods of northern Missouri.

Matt contacted me in the fall of 2005 to make arrangements for a week’s stay at our community. Though Stacey was enduring some difficult headaches early in her pregnancy, she, nonetheless, strongly encouraged Matt to make the visit, as she has a real heart for the agrarian life, something they both are pursuing together in building a future for their growing family. Matt was naturally reluctant to leave wife and kin, but quite early on a Saturday morning in late November he parted with the delightfully warm breezes of home and drove all day into the evening to arrive here in Rayville just in time to go to work, that’s right work.

It just so happened that he arrived the same day that we had brought Sam & Sadie home and we were making some final preparations late into the evening. While I was installing some hotwire insulators I happened to look down into Rayville and spotted an unfamiliar pickup truck slowly making a circle in the heart of town, which is quite small, while simultaneously receiving a call on my cell phone. Both were Matt. He was asking for the final directions, so I directed him while watching him make the short jaunt up the hill to where we were at.

I greeted him with a strong handshake and took him around to meet Jeff and Art. As it was late and I needed to get home so that I could sneak in a few hours of sleep before arising at 3am to put the finishing touches on the next morning’s sermon, a habit I developed over many years of preaching, Matt was immediately shanghaied into taking my place in getting Sam and Sadie’s corral ready for their first night home, which he enthusiastically joined in, though he actually was given the option on turning in for evening. From then on he joined as much as possible in any work we had and was a tremendous help, especially in getting in some of the fencing for the front paddock. He also heartily volunteered to man the manure fork or the “turd hearse,” as our Amish friend puts it. Too bad he wasn’t here to witness Sam and Sadie make their maiden charge into the paddock, as that was a sight to behold under the bright moonlight of that night.

Matt came to not only see what was going on, to worship and break bread with us, to shovel manure and break a sweat, but most importantly, to ask pointed questions about our Christian community and biblical covenant keeping, which is central to our vision. He also sat in on a Missouri Woods meeting where we got into the Scriptures together and where he was able to see brothers of different views and talents resolve issues and make decisions within the context of a biblical partnership.

Yes, he got to see some of our weaknesses as well; in fact, we were hoping he would, as anybody who is serious about Christian community and living a biblically agrarian life will get to see plenty of the weaknesses of his fellow brothers and sisters. Its how they chose to deal with them that makes all of the difference . . . we speak from much experience.

He also got a good dose of cold and snow, which made for a very long drive in crossing Missouri on his way back home. I was glad he got to undergo stinging, painful fingers and frozen truck doors, as that is part of the agrarian life where we abide. In all fairness, however, I also hope he gets to witness the glorious explosion of green and smell the rich air when spring bursts forth, as that is something to behold after a cold winter. I know I am prejudiced, but Missouri is an incredibly beautiful state. One of the memories I cherish was our visit to the farm of Philip Ropp the day before Matt left, which I believe endeared him to their family. I particularly enjoyed the abundant fellowship we had that day together.

The small flock here in Rayville greatly enjoyed Matt’s visit and miss him, as a heartfelt bonding took place, which I think he would agree. All of that of course is in the Lord’s hands, but we made a good friend who is always welcome here along with his beloved family.

Below are a few pictures of his visit, which I think you will enjoy. Time ran out before we could get a group picture, sorry. Well, I’ve got to go, as we are hooking Sam & Sadie up to the arch today (see below), which could get real interesting. Now where is Ben Hur when we need him!

Pictures

Matt is standing in front of the corral. It had rained almost 2" before the snow, so the mules really made a mess of it. It is now covered in dozens of tons of roadbase, a real help.

Here he is standing next to Sam as the long-eared ballerinas feed at their manger. This picture gives one a real perspective in understanding the size of these beautiful beasts.

Matt is pounding in one of several "T" stakes. The ground was still soft. This is where he began to experience the stinging fingers that can go with fencing in winter.

Matt jumped into the back of our Dodge dually to go along in resquing the mail truck, which was stuck a block away for the second time that day. Before we got there someone else freed it up, though Jeff and Art did the resquing earlier in the day.

Alas . . . Matt warms up along side the woodstove in a cramped little shack near the corral. In honor of Rayville's sophisticated business district, we have dubbed the shack the "Rayville Men's Club." In complying with our culture's demand that women have equal access, our women folk get in free on Thursdays as long as they bring all we can eat.

Art and Matt having a discussion while Sam and Sadie munch.

Art and Joyce Morrill with their children Kailee, Andrew, and Jonathon (the wee one). Their fourth child is expected in April. Of course, Sadie had to pose for the portrait.

To prove that bitter cold and snow doesn't come here to stay, I have provided a picture of Art driving the hay rack with fencing on it just a few weeks after Matt left. It got up to a balmy 70 degrees that day, which is not unusual around here.

Here is the logging arch, which stands about 5' at the seat with about 40" of clearance to accommodate larger logs.

This is the original owner in Illinois driving the arch with his team of draft horses. You can see that one sits up pretty high.

A classic Sam & Sadie stare . . . daring you to come out and drive the logging chariot. See you next time.

The Missouri Rev

Journal Entry -- January 15, 2007

Art and I checked on Sam and Sadie just as the sun was setting this evening. It had been snowing lightly most of the day, but the skies had since cleared . . . and the coldest night of the year thus far was already wrapping its fiery fingers about us. We have recently opened a new “back paddock” for them that has considerable grass, which we feel should carry them until spring. We are of the mind to pasture them year round and wanted to see how they were faring. Given that it was 9 degrees with a slight breeze and 95% humidity, and the fact that the ground was coated in a thick layer of ice and sleet, we had concern that they may be having a hard time grazing. With the weather being as nasty as it has been the last few days, we left the gates open between the back paddock and the corral so they could come in under the shed on its leeward side to get out of the wind. It’s likely they didn’t, as large draft mules are very efficient hay burners with thick, densely coated hides and a good layer of protective fat. The last few nights have probably been more a moonlit stroll to them than the dreaded deep freeze we imagine. So long as they have plenty of good feed and water they do quite well. It’s amazing how the Lord has made His creatures fit for the earth.

Our plan was to walk out to them and get them by their halters and lead them to their manger so we could grain them just a little, and then to go back out into the paddock to see what, if any, they had grazed. If it appeared that they had little to eat, we would take them back to their manger and give them their ration of hay. It was bitter cold and slippery to beat the band and with all of the heavy clothing I was wearing I most likely looked to the mules like a trained circus bear stumbling on his hind feet across a frozen pond.

As soon as we passed the last gate and entered the paddock they were already hustling over to us. Their intense brown eyes were focused on our hands and coat pockets, and rightly so, as we each reached in and got a handful of corn and oats, which they quickly manipulated into their warm mouths with their skilled lips, wherein they commenced crunching the glorious way equines do. I had removed my glove to feed Sadie, which was a big mistake, as it wasn’t five seconds before my right hand was burning in pain like someone had lit it on fire. The glove went back on immediately, but even so it took several minutes before the pain abated.

Since Sam is the dominant mule, Art led him first and I followed a ways behind with Sadie. We had made good progress and just entered the front paddock when Sadie suddenly took off to catch up with Sam and away I went ice-skating. As I was skating by the hay wagon I let go of the halter and grabbed one of its posts and swung around and came to a safe stop, something I learned long ago as a kid when I skated at an indoor rink during the long, hot summers of southern Arizona, of all places. Hey, training is training! Art heard the ruckus behind him and immediately released Sam, which was quite wise on his part, since it was only a matter of seconds before the two of them went galloping away side by side.

We approached them again and they immediately came over for another handout. We grabbed their halters and led them to their manger without any further problems. Heading back was no problem either, as both mules readily submitted to being led to the back paddock, even though they love to take off and scamper around like a bunch of rambunctious boys pepped up on candy bars. After going a short ways into the paddock we released them and they just stood there waiting to see what we were going to do next. We headed over to a section of the paddock that has tall thick grass and they followed close behind as though they were expecting an inspection. We were amazed. A section of this area looked like a tornado had just gone through. To our joy and relief they have been grazing to the content of their great hairy bellies. We turned north and headed over to a small pond nearby and discovered that they also love cattails. The outdoor buffet seems to serve them just fine.

We have been working on their paddocks for the last several weeks and hope we are done till spring, Lord willing. The time has now come for some serious training and hard work, as Sam and Sadie have been getting antsy and wound up just like a group of football players that prance and jump around the field before the game. What these long-eared bulldozers need now is work, hard work and lots of it – daily – to get them settled down and back in the saddle, so to speak. Tomorrow, as soon as we can get the last of the ice coating off their backs and thoroughly curry comb them, we will harness them and lead them about the paddock. It’s far too icy to have them pull anything, at least safely, especially with us greenhorns. That will soon come, as there is an enormous dead tree near the paddocks that needs felling that will supply a perfect training log for our logging arch, which looks to us more like a stripped down racing chariot, especially with its hot orange paint job. Having a multi-ton log chained under it will help slow it down . . . we hope.

One thing is for certain; Sam and Sadie know that they are meant to work with us, just like a sheepdog knows it’s to herd for its master. It is such a blessing to see the hand of God upon creation and to know that we are, as God’s husbandmen, to steward it. This is my Father’s world, not the virtual one of fallen man. Though it may be bitter cold outside with my body aching and exhausted from work, I’d rather be doing the will of God under these conditions than to be in relative comfort and ease outside of His will. I will readily admit it, however, that my flesh was hoping to stay inside tonight and put off checking them until tomorrow when it would be warmer, but our God ordained stewardship dictates that Sam and Sadie be looked into tonight, bitter cold and all. That’s a part of agrarianism I am coming to accept and respect, to be there for our beasts of burden when they need us, just like the Lord is always there for us, and not when it is convenient or suitably comfortable. --- The Missouri Rev

The god behind Pagan America

In an excellent article posted at Lew Rockwell's website and simply entitled 1913, writer Michael Tuggle elaborates on the revolutionary year of 1913 when our constitutionally limited government was finally conquered and through legislative fiat morphed into a powerful imperial state. (I suggest you read it before reading this posting, as it is the basis for this latest diatribe.) I might add the largest and most powerful the world has ever seen and one the Caesars of the Roman Empire would have envied, thanks to the empowering that year of the world’s most beloved and powerful god, mammon, through the establishing of the Federal Reserve. Though there were many nation changing events that took place in the infamous year of 1913, the one with the greatest impact by far was the founding of the Federal Reserve (Fed) -- a private, central bank which was granted total control over our nation’s money.

Why is this one of greatest impact? The mother’s milk of a pagan culture is pagan money. Cultural revolutions always incur tremendous costs which must be fully financed to be successful. Without its trillions of pagan dollars -- which were sufficient to buy and takeover America's institutions, especially its government, media, education, and economy -- the latest revolution would have sputtered into oblivion. The America of today has a distinct pagan nature specifically because it has suckled at the ample breast of the Fed for nigh unto one hundred years, which has been a faithful nursemaid in providing an unlimited supply of fiat (virtual) currency enhanced by usury. [I do not have time to go into it here, but the debt-based economic system of America is irrefutably wicked and, thus, cursed of God, just as our present culture that was nurtured and built upon it.]

From 1913 on our nation has undergone a radical change in its culture from apostate Christian to brazen pagan, though it first began this generational decent into humanism when in open defiance of King Jesus, the Supreme Sovereign, “we the people” installed themselves as the republic’s sovereign, which launched them pell-mell unto the dangerous path of democracy, a polytheistic form of government where the people supposedly live freely through the pragmatic electoral process of choosing its rulers from “the lesser of two evils.” This is clearly strong delusion for the depraved hearts of fallen men always seek to pervert and control the world and his fellow man to their own lawless, greedy ends, as history has repeatedly shown and as our nearly diminished wallets and freedoms prove.

By 1800 the Enlightenment movement of Europe had made fatal inroads into the northern states, which led to a division in our nation between the Hamiltonians, empowered by the industrial bankers who sought a centralization of Federal powers, and the Jeffersonians who sought to maintain the decentralized agrarian culture our nation was originally founded as. The War of Northern Aggression soon ended this fight and the reconstruction (read systematic destruction) of the Agrarian South soon followed. I marvel at the number of proud “Southerners” today who boast of their Confederate ancestors, yet worship the very god and economic system that their brave ancestors fought and died against.

President Lincoln, in a letter written in 1864 to Col. William F. Elkins, clearly understood the dreadful powers that empowered and enabled him to wage war against the constitutional republic of America. “The money power preys upon the nation in times of peace and conspires against it in times of adversity. It is more despotic than monarchy, more insolent than autocracy, more selfish than bureaucracy. I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me and causes me to tremble for the safety of my country. Corporations have been enthroned, an era of corruption in high places will follow, and the money power of the country will endeavor to prolong its reign by working upon the prejudices of the people until the wealth is aggregated in a few hands and the republic is destroyed.”

His predication was “right on the money” (pardon the pun), as America, brought under the power of wicked men through the worship of mammon, passed from being the world's freest republic into the world’s largest debtor state, also the world's greatest fascist (corporate) state, which now spreads its gospel of “freedom by mammon” to the world by means of its mighty bayonet. Perhaps this is why Lincoln was posthumously enshrined as a national god in the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC, where he sits enthroned upon a royal seat of corporate imperialism while looking straight down the road to the distant Arlington House, the home of Gen. Robert E. Lee, which was taken from this godly man as a spoil of pagan war.

Personally witnessing the fulfilment of Lincoln's prediction in my own life puts me in far greater awe of the words of Jesus where He forewarned His people about serving mammon. "No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon" (Matthew 6:24). Of all the gods of the Roman Empire He could have chosen to make this point, He chose the chief god of all of mankind, mammon, since by it man empowers his rebellion to God in seeking to cast off the bonds and cords of His loving, restraining hand (Psalm 2). My how mankind hates the Law of God, even His own people!

If ever biblical reformation is to take place in America, it must begin first with the Lord’s people repenting from the idolatry of mammon worship, for they cannot serve both the Lord and their own personal financial kingdoms made possible through our debt-based usurious money system. By God’s grace they will have to wean themselves off of the breasts of mammon and turn back to God for their future and to His Law as their final standard for the whole of man for the whole of life. This will not be easy, by any means, and may take several generations of faithful repentance one small step at a time, but the alternative is national destruction, for God is not mocked, especially by His people who have His law written on their hearts.

"I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a native green tree. Yet he passed away, and behold, he was no more; indeed I sought him, but he could not be found. Mark the blameless man, and observe the upright; for the future of that man is peace. But the transgressors shall be destroyed together; the future of the wicked shall be cut off" (Psalm 37:35-38).

Though the wicked may continue to spread their great power over the earth, it is only for a season. Without a doubt, mammon is the great power behind the corporate state that has the present dominion over us. It happens to also be its Achilles tendon, a very thin sinew that could easily be severed should God’s people turn back to Him in reestablishing true Christian culture in rebuilding local Christian communities with local economics and decentralized governments that operate by the just weights and honest measures of biblical money. --- The Missouri Rev

Treva Ropp Update

I had a good talk with Philip Ropp today. The news could not be any better. He said Treva's rapid recovery has been miraculous . . . especially since an Amish man came out from Ohio with a special salve that has made all of the difference. Apparently he has worked in some burn units in Ohio for years with a particular herbal salve that rapidly speeds up the recovery and healing while eliminating the pain. He has an impeccable track record of successes. I asked Philip how a state-of-the-art burn unit in a major US hospital would allow for this type of “unconventional therapy?” He said it was partly Treva’s primary physician’s black heritage which includes some history in folk medicine that weighed the scales in Treva’s favor in giving the salve a try.

I can’t imagine any conventional hospital allowing this with so much malpractice litigation going on, but perhaps the fact that the Amish do not sue and are self insured opened some of the doors here. I tend to think that the Lord ordained it and it happened. Philip went on to say that the many prayers of Christians throughout the nation also played into the intervention, for which he is enormously grateful. He asked me to thank you all on Treva’s and his behalf.

Up until two days ago Treva was in excruciating pain that required regular doses of morphine to keep it tolerable and Philip said that even so she was nearly going out of her mind . . . very stressful. Treva was progressing as good as could be expected, but they requested that this salve, as administered by the Amish practitioner who produces it, be given a chance. Immediately upon application the pain went entirely away and has remained that way. Her burns are healing much quicker, enough that the burn unit nursing staff and other professionals are taking pictures from day to day. They are astounded and especially elated, as nothing is harder on a burn unit nurse than the enormous pain their patients must endure.

I asked Philip for the name of the salve and the Amish man that practices with it, but because we were both on cell phones, I couldn’t make it out. He did say it was available for purchase (he bought 12 cases) and as soon as I can get with him I’ll get the details. This salve is also excellent for stubborn infections where amputation is eminent if they are not brought under control. I am not surprised by this, as the Seventh Day Adventists have created a very similar salve, which my wife learned to make, that also works very well for burns, wounds, and infections. I am using some now for a deep puncture wound I received in my hand yesterday. It has a bees wax base and is loaded with many medicinal herbs.

Treva is still in the ICU and likely will be there for another week. I have been asked to come and pray for her when she is moved to a regular room, at which time I can give you a firsthand update. From there it might be another month before she is released. The Amish practitioner stated that the third degree burns on her arms and hands should fully heal by 21 days. Unless I didn’t know Philip Ropp personally and the fact he is man of his word, I would be a little inclined to believe these claims to be a wee bit exaggerated, but he has never exaggerated anything with our dealings with Sam & Sadie. The Amish practitioner from Ohio is also fully backed by a former brain surgeon there who testifies that he is one of the best in the nation for healing burns. When I get the full scoop I’ll pass it on.

I get a joyful chuckle out of this whole situation, as the Lord moves mightily on behalf of a little known Amish family from the middle of nowhere Missouri to bring real healing before the eyes of those who practice corporate medicine. Please keep praying for Treva, Philip, and his family. He is pretty tired, but most thankful. --- The Missouri Rev

A Proposition for You

I’m back, more or less. Thank you for being patient, may the Lord bless the new year before you. It probably has become obvious to you that I have yet to strike a good balance between writing and the many other hats I wear, though I do understand the important part a journal can play in enlightening and encouraging fellow Christian agrarians to fight the good fight of faith. There are many of you out there that have been a real blessing and encouragement to me because you have chronicled your agrarian life, its peaks and valleys, exhilarating victories and toilsome agonies, and the inexpressible joys and heartbreaking sorrows.

Being a minister of the Word and pastor of a small flock adds a dimension to what I do here that makes journaling a tad difficult, as I am also compelled by my sola scriptura worldview to sermonize my experiences, and rightly so. But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear (1 Peter 3:15). Rick Saenz of Dry Creek Chronicles has encouraged me, however, to make simple journal entries without creating lengthy, highly edited sermons. (You might check out his latest posting that gives an insightful review on the Little House on the Prairie book series.) His advice is much appreciated and well taken; I’ll do my best. Nonetheless, this is like asking a hungry mule not to eat the deep, rich grass in the new paddock he has just scampered into. I speak from observation.

I would like to say that I’ll soon get the hang of consistent, weekly journaling so that my readers do not have to repeatedly search my blog for a new posting, but the vision we have undertook here has taken on real flesh and sinew and has become a very dynamic journey that has growing priorities and demands. There is much that has happened since I last posted that I need to fill you in on, much I have learned that is on my heart to share, and much I need to convey in the apologetics of biblical agrarianism and Christian community, but the manure and muck on my boots, pulled muscles and fatigue, and the cuts and scratches on my hands testify to the daily realities of an agrarian life which have put journaling on the back burner, and we have only just begun. The next several months look to be a very busy time for us as we begin an intensive down-to-earth education in mule driving, logging, and sawmill design and implementation.

That said, I do believe Rick is right, I need to put into a journal as much of our experiences as possible. But that applies to all of us for the sake of future Christian generations who will look to those who have gone on before them that have scaled the difficult mountains of a biblically agrarian life. In recent deliberations with my business partners, it was determined that a vital part of my job description with Missouri Woods is to write according to my calling in the Lord, so as to give the biblical reasons for the real hope we have in finding God’s grace and mercy in our endeavors to serve the Lord with the work of our hands in building Christian community. This is because the successes and failures that will come to Missouri Woods are not unto us, alone, but unto the greater body of Christ who, Lord willing by His rich grace and the illuminating light of His word, can learn from them . . . provided they are chronicled.

Though we may not realize it, the observations we all make and the lessons we learn from our small, seemingly mundane lives can have the same impact on others as those we gain from reading classics like the Little House of the Prairie series, which chronicled (in story form) the mistakes and victories of a Christian family living in rural America in the late 1800’s. You’ll note, however, that neither Charles nor Caroline Ingalls wrote on their arduous, though rich life. I have far more respect for them now than I ever did when I only dreamed of the agrarian life. I have come to learn that there is a world of difference between pontificating on the agrarian life from the comfortable couches of theoretical, wishful thinking . . . and actually living it.

I also understand that not everyone is gifted to write, though we are all commanded to defend the faith we profess and live. Perhaps there is a son or daughter of yours that yearns to write, maybe a fellow brother or sister in Christ. Encourage and nurture that yearning, but more importantly, live the agrarian life as they cannot chronicle it for you if you are not living it along with them. Move out of the entrenched parking lot of good intentions and head up the rugged, steep trail by faith. Break a sweat and get your fingers dirty and sore as unto the Lord, you’ll never regret it.

Finally, I am bursting at the seams to write, teach, and preach. Even so, what sweat and labor my 52 year old body can offer in carrying my share of the burden in the daily grind of chores and work is of far more importance to the success of Missouri Woods and our small Christian community than journaling, important as I may think it is. It all comes back to striking a balance within our priorities.

This all leads me to make a proposition for you dedicated readers of my blog. Since I cannot promise you before the Lord that I will always make weekly or monthly entries to my journal, though He knows that is my desire and goal, if you will send me your e-mail address I will notify you whenever I do post. This is so that you will not have to repeatedly waste your time going to my blog only to find that nothing new has been posted. To join The Rural Missourian notification list send your e-mail address to: RuralMissourian%%CRCRayville.org. Note: You will need to replace the %% with the @ to make this address work, as I have altered it to avoid spammers that can automatically detect e-mail addresses when searching Internet websites. Your e-mail address will be closely guarded and kept private.

Far better yet – if you think you have the heart of a biblical covenant keeper and a strong desire to seek first the Kingdom of God in all you do, if your are willing to humble yourself in esteeming others better than yourself while sharing their burdens, forbearing with their shortcomings, and forgiving their offenses against you – then come out and visit us and get your boots muddy and backs sore in learning what we are doing firsthand. I know Sam & Sadie will love to help you break into a sweat.

Perhaps these qualifications for a visit may seem high-minded or unreasonable, but please keep in mind that we fervently believe if ever the Lord should bless His people with success on earth in returning to a God-blessed lifestyle and culture, it will not happen because they move to rural areas to “live on the land,” raise chickens, farm organically, or log with mules, as the unregenerate do the same, but because He specifically promises to bless His people and their successive generations should they keep covenant with Him in obeying His commandments. This is one and the same as seeking first His Kingdom and righteousness wherein He promises to provide all our earthly needs. In a nutshell, I have listed below the long-term plans and basis for what we believe will lead to the success of both our Christian community and Missouri Woods.

But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting On those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children’s children, To such as keep His covenant, And to those who remember His commandments to do them. Psalm 103:17-18

And whatever we ask we receive from Him, because we keep His commandments and do those things that are pleasing in His sight. 1 John 3:22

“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ “For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Matthew 6:31-33

If anyone will take to heart the vital truths in these three verses then they will have advanced far in their understanding of biblical agrarianism. Bottom-line: It is faithful covenant keeping with the Lord according to His commandments in all we do that defines biblical agrarianism and separates it from all other forms of agrarianism, no matter how good they sound.

It is not that we here in Rayville have already attained, by any means, as we are sinners in need of God’s grace as much as anybody else. We have learned from real experience, however, as God has been merciful in making our way though we have made mistakes, that these promises are true, true to every generation that names the Lord. Most importantly, these qualifying truths are the vital gatekeepers which protect the Lord’s people from the two fatal banes of Christian Community: self-righteousness and autonomy, both that of the community members and those who seek to join them.

May the Lord be gracious in leading you to keep covenant with Him in prospering the work of your hands. God bless – The Missouri Rev

Prayer Request

Some of you know by now that Treva Ropp, the precious wife of our dear Amish friend Philip Ropp, was critically burned in a kitchen accident at home when she dropped a vat of hot oil which burst into flames and engulfed her.  This happened early this week while I was away for Christmas, which is why I didn’t immediately post it on my blog, as I could not access it on the computer available to me, no matter how much I tweaked the settings… an aggravating glitch with the iMac I was unfamiliar with.  I did have our church’s clerk Jeff Klute e-mail the prayer request to those of you who receive my sermons via the Internet.  Forgive me for not letting you know sooner.  I think this “Luddite,” muleskinning pastor needs to get a laptop going to stay in communication when away from the home front.

Treva was burned over 60% of her body, which necessitated a flight-for-life ride to the KU Medical center in Kansas City.  Through God’s mercy wherein He answered the fervent prayers of many Christians throughout the nation, she has made it over the critical hump and is on the road to recovery, though a long painful one.  She is to undergo skin graft surgery on her hands and may have already, but I have been unable to confirm this as it’s hard to contact the faithful Amish, as they do not hang around telephones, something I have come to respect, however.  

Thank the Lord she was wearing clothing that doesn’t stick to burns (like polyester and other petroleum based cloths), as it burned completely off of her, thus saving her from far more extensive burns, the very painful process of removal, let alone the greater risk of infection.  Philip told me that it happened early in the morning just before he arose to work.  He heard her screams and rushed downstairs and helped get the flames out on her body, as she was just rolling up in a rug, and then was able to put the house fire out literally in the nick of time with the help of his daughter and several well located fire extinguishers.  He said it all happened in a matter of a few minutes.  They had come real close to losing Treva.  While he stayed with her at the hospital, members of his local Christian community immediately stepped in and made repairs to the house in getting it back to livable condition, while others worked his logging business so he wouldn’t get behind.  When the hospital bill arrives, his community will step forward and help pay for it.  The Lord’s way of meeting critical needs through Christian community is vastly superior to the pagan socialist system of the corporate insurance giants.      

Treva has done far better than first expected, as she is already exercising.  She did not suffer any burns to her face, though her legs and hands were badly burned.  I would ask you to please pray for Treva on a regular basis, as it is going to be many weeks before she can go home and many months before she will know how much use of her hands she will have . . . hands that are a real blessing to her family and community.  Please also pray for Philip and his family through these stressful times.  

Thank you

The Missouri Rev                        

Seasons Greetings

For those of you waiting for the next post I extend to you warm greetings and pray you have a blessed Christmas. Now that Sam & Sadie are home we have been busy beyond our greatest expectations . . . hence the absence of postings, for which I apologize. Living the agrarian life can be a time consuming passion. There is much I will share with you in our adventures with Sam & Sadie and in building an agrarian Christian community. May the Lord bless and keep you in His perfect will. See you next year . . . Lord willing.

The Missouri Rev

Wry Bread

The Lord has blessed our small community with Jan Wyller, a resident poet and native Missourian, no less. The two make a great combination. I am pleased to announce that her first set of poems -- Wry Bread – Uncommon Thoughts on Common Themes -- has been published. As her pastor and editor, it is a real joy to see her faith and God given talents bear fruit. Here is one of my favorites:

No vagrant graces
caught by each alone,
These, and more,
from His Providence come down:

Invincible gratitude,
locked-in peace,
Sewn fast forever
in the hearts
Of those He owns.

James 1:17, 3:17-18

If you would like to purchase a copy for $10 you can write Jan at PO Box 196, Rayville, Missouri 64084.

You, even yourself, shall let go of your heritage which I gave you.

In the last few days World Net Daily published a couple of articles bewailing the fact that America’s distinct Christian heritage is being removed from the pages of history and openly perverted concerning national monuments dedicated to it. Tour guides at the Supreme Court building have spun a new explanation to the sculptured marble panels above its grand bench that depict two central figures, the Majesty of the Law and the Power of Government and between them a tableau of the Ten Commandments, only now they have become the “first ten amendments to the Bill of Rights.” Tour guides at the Jamestown Museum and Settlement give only secular purposes for the founding of the Jamestown colony, hiding and maligning the far greater Christian cause behind their noble work.

This shouldn’t surprise nor alarm us since it has been happening in plain sight for many decades. The reasons behind the demolition of our heritage and the increasing attacks against our Christian faith were not given in any of these articles, however, which is something I think is very important, as I am far more interested in the remedy than in the problem. As the bearers of the Gospel -- the salt of the earth and light of the world, the pillar and ground of the truth -- the Church is to have answers, not just hopeless news reports, especially when it is discovered that her sins are the problem. Do not misunderstand me; I am not against reporting news as this is certainly vital, but how much bad news do we need to know in detail before we see the handwriting on the wall and genuinely turn to God for the answer? God forbid that it be said of America, as it was of Israel prior to its destruction in 70 AD, Hypocrites! You know how to discern the face of the sky, but you cannot discern the signs of the times.

If America was indeed founded by God fearing Christians by the omnipotent hand and merciful grace of the Supreme Sovereign, the Lord Jesus Christ, which I believe is clearly the case, how is it the Lord’s transcending authority and power over Heaven and earth could not preserve it a distinctly Christian nation? To learn the answer is to learn the remedy. Though unregenerates in authority are openly tearing down the Christian heritage of America, they are not the problem, but merely the symptom, sent of the Lord, no less. When the Lord’s people turn their back on Him by casting His law behind their backs as the final, transcendent standard for their lives and instead turn to the unregenerate inhabitants around them in seeking their peace and prosperity -- as they have in heartily embracing the wicked economic system of today which is irrefutably a gross violation of God’s law, among many reasons -- then He gives them over to their new lovers, who soon make them their slaves. In our case the original banners of our glorious heritage are being torn down and history rewritten to extol the virtues of the great Moloch state that conquered the progeny of America’s Christian founders and handily converted them over to the great two headed god that rules our nation, mammon and democracy.

This, of course, is nothing new as it happened to Israel when she courted pagan lovers. In enacting the vengeance of the covenant (Lev. 26:25) He made with them, the Lord put her into captivity under them and took away their heritage with Him. The same has happened to us.

“The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron; With the point of a diamond it is engraved on the tablet of their heart, and on the horns of your altars, while their children remember their altars and their wooden images by the green trees on the high hills. O My mountain in the field, I will give as plunder your wealth, all your treasures, And your high places of sin within all your borders. And you, even yourself, shall let go of your heritage which I gave you; and I will cause you to serve your enemies in the land which you do not know; for you have kindled a fire in My anger which shall burn forever.” Thus says the Lord: “Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart departs from the Lord. For he shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when good comes, but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land which is not inhabited. “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and whose hope is the Lord. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, which spreads out its roots by the river, and will not fear when heat comes; but its leaf will be green, and will not be anxious in the year of drought, nor will cease from yielding fruit (Jeremiah 17:1-8).

We Christians have only ourselves to blame for the demise of our once Christian republic. Our glorious and precious heritage was given to us by the Lord under certain requirements: if you love me, keep my commandments. It was not something that was an automatic given where God’s face will perpetually shine upon us, especially today when a president “professes faith” while leading the cause of “freedom” in forcing democracy and mammon upon a foreign nation by the end of the world’s greatest gun barrel.

No, it’s not enough to make public outcries in rending the cheap garments of talk. It’s time we rend our hearts in repenting and reforming our ways according to the commandments of God. “Now, therefore,” says the Lord, “Turn to Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.” So rend your heart, and not your garments; return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness; and He relents from doing harm. --- The Rural Missourian