Reflecting on the Willing Sacrifice of Good Friday

As I have been writing this blog post, a passage from C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (Scholastic, 1987) has continued to pervade my thoughts so it seemed it should have a place in the posting. Aslan described the significance of  his murder by the White Witch and his miraculous resurrection from death. He explained eloquently the power of the moment, allegorically reminiscent of the crucifixion of Christ. Aslan said, "She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the table would crack and Death itself would start working backward."

The Bottle-fed White Calf and Good Friday

                On February 3^rd, Dad’s white-tail cow had a little white bull calf. Within a few days, it became apparent that the baby bull calf was not thriving. My brother-in-law and sister made an emergency visit to the farm. Ben loaded the calf in the back of his pickup. Angie, my sister, drove them up to the house. They brought calf milk replacement that Mother used to prepare a bottle. The little white calf began devouring the milk from the bottle, eagerly following Ben and looking for more. I assumed the responsibility of feeding the calf at least twice daily.  

                Soon I had to admit that I could not adequately care for Dad and the calf. After a week of nurturing the little white bull calf, we arranged to sell the calf and his mother. My cousin, Tim came to haul the two to the weekly livestock sale. Ben carried the calf into the trailer. I stood beside the trailer near its front. The calf began to suckle my glove on that cool February morning. Soon the calf's mother was loaded into the trailer, too.

                As I walked to the house, waving to Tim as he pulled the trailer onto the road, I reflected on the happenings of the morning. The tiny, innocent-appearing calf stood motionless in the trailer, not making even the slightest sound. Then my mind shifted to recall a passage in Isaiah 53:7 in which Isaiah predicts the sacrificial death of Jesus.

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth;

He was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

And as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He did not open His mouth. (NIV)

                The little white calf stayed so willingly in the trailer. In comparison, Jesus, out of love for us,willingly endured the shame and death of the cross for our sins, taking the punishment on His perfect self. Paul described, with poignancy, Jesus' atonement in his letter to the church at Corinth when he penned:

God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us,

So that in Him we might become the righteousness of God. (NIV)

                As we enter the week preceding Good Friday and Easter, may we take time to reflect on our unworthy sinfulness in contrast to His perfect willingness to take our place as the only way to free us from our detrimental transgressions. Only the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John records this assessment by John the Baptist of Jesus in John 1:29.) could restore life as it was meant to be for humans. Let the little white calf nuzzling so willingly my gloved hand serve as a visual reminder of the precious death of Jesus motivated only by His love for the unloving to make them right with God. Throughout the week, may we, who have been forgiven and freed from the guilt and power of sin, offer heartfelt thanks and gratitude to the only One who could provide such freedom - Jesus the Savior of the World.

The little white calf explores the hay after taking his evening bottle.

The Theater Manager Who Married a Rainey Girl

This week will mark the 128th birthday of William John Buckley, the husband of Emma Maryann Rainey Buckley. Ironically, next Sunday will be 70 years since his untimely death. My mother retains vivid, cherished memories of the five years of her childhood when she had her Uncle Bill in her life.

William John Buckley

William John Buckley was born in Montgomery, Alabama, on March 23, 1887. By the age of 13, "Willie" was at Sapulpa in the Creek Nation, Indian Territory, as recorded in the 1900 census.

“Bill” Buckley was the son of Sarah and John M. Buckley, a prominent family in early day Pawhuska. Bill’s father was the city engineer of Pawhuska, Oklahoma, in the early 1900s. In the publication, The Contractor published in Chicago, in the issue dated September 15, 1916, tells of Mr. Buckley’s plan to construct the 510-foot bridge over the creek in City Park in Pawhuska at the cost of $350,000. I recall going over a bridge in Pawhuska as Mother made the comment, “Mr. Buckley constructed this bridge.”
              William J. Buckley was discharged as a private serving in the Coastal Artillery Company based in Fort DuPont, Delaware, on November 29, 1918. He had enlisted on July 31, 1918. At the time of his enlistment, he listed his occupation as a moving picture operator. 

Bill had no interest in civil engineering as his father did. Instead, he was fascinated with the new technology of the moving picture. This catapulted him into managing theaters for the Griffith Brothers*.  While in Fairfax, Oklahoma, when he was the manager of the Tall Chief Theater, he met my maternal grandmother’s sister, Emma Maryann Rainey. Aunt Emma was always the sophisticated sister. Bill Buckley was quite “taken” immediately with Emma.. (A photograph of Emma as a child appears in the blog post entitled Alice Rainey- The Valentine Baby that published on February 9, 2014. To see her in a stately pose, access The Bittersweet Shared Birthday that posted on August 10, 2014.) 

William John Buckley married Emma Maryann Rainey on January 20, 1929, when he was 41 years old and Aunt Emma, my grandma’s youngest sister, was 25 years old. As my mother says, “Uncle Bill doted on Aunt Emma.” He provided for her anything she wanted. As some would say, while she was married to him she led a charmed life.

They lived in Fairfax during the time he managed the Tall Chief Theater. Aunt Emma and her new husband enjoyed being a part of the social life of the early 1930s, being a part of a group of couples who relished playing bridge.

My grandmother, Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith, preserved a newspaper article praising the creative side of her brother-in-law. Bill’s hobby of constructing an eight-tube radio receiver set. The article lauded his success of being able to hear stations from both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts with clarity on the “bear cat” machine he had built. The newspaper reporter marveled that Uncle Bill’s “knock-out” set was small enough to fit into a suitcase!

Within a couple of years, Bill Buckley was promoted to manage The Lyric Theater in Vinita, Oklahoma. Bill and Emma moved and continued to live their dream life full of love, laughter, and friends. Mother has a copy of a letter dated January 22, 1934, that was addressed to "Bill" from J. H. Griffin concerning negotiations on another theater in Vinita.
              This time of happiness and success was cut short by his brief illness and subsequent death. Bill contracted pneumonia and being a heavy smoker could not overcome the disease. Within a week, he was dead on March 29, 1934. Mother recalls, to this day at age 90, the location of his burial in the Pawhuska Cemetery. He was only 47 years old. Mother was nine years old when one of her favorite uncles died suddenly.

            After being married for only five years to the love of her life, Aunt Emma suffered an emotional collapse, my mother recalls. She lost all desire to go on and for approximately a year, she mourned his death, seeing no future for herself, as she battled severe depression. I recall my grandmother telling me  that one morning Aunt Emma got out of bed and ran out into the field. It was as if she had gained a new lease on life. She moved into a new chapter of her life, but without the man who had provided comfortably for her with his rock-solid stability motivated by adoring love.

*Deborah A. Carmichael's dissertation written in 1969 to fulfill her doctorial requirements at Oklahoma State University entitled The Griffith Brothers Circuits of Oklahoma: Film Exhibition Success Outside the Hollywood Studio System can be read online at:  https://shareok.org/bitstream/handle/11244/7058/English%20Department_09.pdf?sequence=1

"Bill" Buckley with his beloved dog, Bing.

Additional note: I have never seen a photograph of Bill and Aunt Emma together. However, as I grew up, Bill Buckley's World War I photograph was on display in our home. When I was in college, my grandmother offered the photograph to Aunt Emma again and much to Grandma's surprise, she took it. Evidently, after around 40 years, Aunt Emma was able to deal with his death and the memories of their five years of marriage. His photograph on display once more reminded her of those few years with the man whose strength and love loomed so large that she would never remarry.

Just Because It's Carved In Stone Doesn't Make It True

My Aunt and Uncle, the Sleuths

Lou and Jim Gates as photographed by Catherine Marie Gates Leforce
at my parents' 60th wedding anniversary celebration in March, 2008.

       As I write the weekly blog post each week, I learn. One of my earliest blog posts dealt with Grandma Mamie Irene Tripp Gates’s family. I mentioned that Grandma had one sister, Cora. Later from Aunt Lou and Uncle Jim Gates, I learned Cora Dell had a twin sister, Nora Bell. They had been born on May 10, 1898. To verify the information, Jim and Lou contacted Shirley Gallatin Martin, Cora’s daughter who lives in California. According to Shirley, Nora Bell was always sickly, based on what her mother related to her about her twin sister. Shirley told Lou and Jim that Nora Bell Tripp died around age two.

       The first problem becomes apparent. The gravestone in Pawhuska marking the burial place of little Nora Bell has an incorrect birth year. It states “1888” instead of “1898.” Based on Shirley’s account, Nora Bell died in 1900, not 1903 as is carved on the tombstone pictured below. If November 2, 1900, is the correct date of her death, then Little Nora Bell died just over a week after her father, Rufus Tripp, died.

Nora Bell Tripp's tombstone as seen on findagrave.com

      The other complexity deals with a lack of death certificates in the early 1900s. Even if a death certificate existed, due to the rise in identity theft, it has become increasingly difficult to get a copy even for genealogical and family research purposes.

      I have corrected the blog post entitled One of the Hardest Things for a Little Girl to Do, to include Nora Bell, the initially missing twin. Her death year, in spite of additional research, remains uncertain. Just because something is carved in stone does not attest to its accuracy. This fact I have learned from this experience.

      I am deeply indebted to Jim and Lou Gates for their input, effort, and even a trip to the cemetery in Pawhuska to gain more truth about this little sister of my grandmother, Mamie Irene Tripp Gates.

      As I filtered this account through my mind, I realized that my grandmother faced more heartache than I knew. Based on information that my aunt and uncle gathered, one of Grandma’s little twin sisters began life battling poor health. A family member with an ongoing illness affects the entire family. As sensitive as Grandma was, I know her little sister’s poor health was an additional burden for her as a little girl to bear. Yet as the oldest sister, I feel sure Grandma shouldered as much responsibility as a five- to eight- year-old could. If Nora Bell did die in 1900 as her twin sister, Cora, had told her daughter, Shirley Gallatin Martin, then my grandmother as only a five-year-old, grieved the death of her little sister just days after sorrowing over her beloved father’s passing.

      What strength the matriarch of the Gates family possessed! Grandma never hinted at allowing her losses to sour her on life. The devastating grief over not just one death but two in the life of a young girl must have shattered and broken her inside. Yet somehow as a little one, Mamie Irene Tripp, realized allowing one’s heart to be comforted and mended also enlarges the heart for love and genuine affection. 
       One of my fondest memories of Grandma was her response to a thoughtful comment, a considerate gesture, or a sweet action from someone in our family. She always responded with her favorite remark spoken in her most loving tone, “Wasn’t that dear?” May each of us who descend from her follow her example of using hardship and hurt as a springboard for compassion, kindness, and love.

Surviving Dreary Weather

Disregarding a Gray Day

                I adjusted the window blinds in the living room where Dad’s bed is located. As I began feeding him breakfast, I found myself saying, “Well, Dad, today is supposed to be overcast, but at least there is no freezing precipitation.” What progress!

                Even though for 33 years, the classrooms where I taught had no windows, it never seemed to bother me - perhaps since the classrooms were well lit. However, when I retired and began helping my mother care for my father, as well as assuming the role of caring for their small herd of cattle, the impact of the weather daily affected me. Suddenly, I became aware of depression descending on days devoid of sunshine.

                Recently, I have discovered friends who also are impacted by the days without being able to see and feel the warmth of the sun’s glow. What a weighty foreboding the outdoor environment can bring upon many of us, leaving us with a heaviness, rendering us practically incapable of functioning! However, demands of family, work, and life require those with the “dreariness” disorder to continue to perform. Finding a way to accomplish our responsibilities necessitates help outside of ourselves.

                Paul advised in Colossians 3:16, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; in all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.” (ASV) 

              I found myself humming or singing phrases from the old hymns like “Sunshine in My Soul” or “Heavenly Sunlight” or the praise song “Shine, Jesus, Shine” as I would be walking to check the water in the stock tank on those gloomy, gray days. Just hearing the tunes and singing uplifting words raised my spirits as I trudged along.

When I heard myself telling Dad of the positive aspects of a cloudy day, I realized at least for those early morning hours, I had learned a greater level of trust, which in turn, enabled me to honor God by focusing on Him instead of the outdoor atmosphere.

                Over the last couple of years, I fought the pull of the slough of despond on overcast days by reading, quoting, and meditating on scripture that dealt with the surety of God’s character and His desire to interact with us. Those gloomy days allowed me to choose to actively trust, moment by moment, regardless of how the weather conditions affected my feelings.

                One of the most valuable passages is Malachi 4:2. The prophet wrote by divine inspiration, “But for you who fear My name, the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing in His wings. And you will go free, leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture.”(NLT)*

               Malachi foretold of Jesus, the Sun of Righteousness, using a brilliant, powerful comparison. The metaphoric word picture of Jesus as the sun provides encouragement during these dull, cloudy days. I haven’t yet arrived at behaving like those invigorated little calves spoken of in the verse, but that vivid simile gives me a vibrant image to meditate on when those gloomy skies appear. How reassuring that the Lord illumines our lives even when the sun doesn’t. He uses those energetic little bovines as a visual reminder that we can rise freely above the murkiest of days with the same freedom of calves leaping joyfully. Who would have ever guessed those frisky calves would be used in my life as such learning tools?

I snapped this photo right before this little calf skipped off.

*Some readers may sense that they have sung similar words as Malachi 4:2.  Charles Wesley used these phrases below when he penned Hark! The Herald Angels Sing in the eighteenth century.

Hail the heav'nborn Prince of Peace!

Hail the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings,

Ris'n with healing in His wings.

                                                                                                 Public Domain

Selecting the Most Important Source

This past week I had assisted Dad at 2 a.m. one morning. Usually I return quickly to sleep as soon as I can, which is almost always within five minutes. But this wee hour wakeup was different. I seemed driven to pick up the copy of The Message of the Bible that was within my reach. The next chapter I was scheduled to read astounded me when I realized how closely related these verses were to the following devotional based on Bob and Tailer's antics:

“You’re going to find that there will be times when people will have no stomach for solid teaching, but will fill up on spiritual junk food – catchy opinions that tickle their fancy. They’ll turn their backs on truth and chase mirages. But you- keep your eye on what you’re doing; accept the hard times along with the good; keep the Message alive; do a thorough job as God’s servant." 2 Timothy 4:3-5

Coveting the Food in the Garage

Bob and Tailer are fed high quality dry cat food based on the recommendation of their vet. Invariably, however, they crave the economy food put out for the outside cats’ daily supplement. (Dad believed cats should earn their keep by controlling the rodent population.) After Bob and Tailer have eaten each morning and when the outside cats have begun their routine cleanup ritual after finishing their food in the pans in the garage, I turn the two privileged cats outside to play the rest of the day. The back door opens, and Bob and Tailer rush the food area in the garage. For several minutes, Bob, especially, scours each dish of cat victuals left behind by the outside cats looking for any morsel of nourishment. Seldom will he find more than a bite or two, but he always searches as though he was starving.

As I shake my head at their behavior, a saying spoken frequently by my mother during my adolescent years pops into my mind. If she thought we were reading, watching, or listening to questionable material, and we attempted to validate the good from it, Mother would remind us, “You don’t have to go to the slop bucket for a biscuit.”

Wow! What a word picture! I vividly recalled as a preschooler going each evening with Dad to “slop” the two hogs. Peelings, plate scrapings, old leftovers, just to mention a few items, were in that bucket. The unappetizing quagmire smelled putrid, but an identifiable food item floated occasionally on the top of the scummy refuse. Never would I have reached my little hand in to grab the recognizable morsel.

Yet I cannot recall a time in my memory when more people are doing that. Like Bob and Tailer, myriads of individuals seldom value the Bible, the everlasting truth, let alone open it or tap one of the many Bible apps to see for themselves what God says about a matter. Instead, they seek the latest expert’s advice, the opinions of several million social media postings, or read books about the Bible. All of which are changeable and can be unreliable.

Jesus, in his prayer in John 17, said in verse 17, "Your Word is the truth. So let this truth make them completely Yours." (CEV). Jesus prays for the truth of God's Word to make His children complete in Him. The clear implication is that His Word has to be read. It can't make a follower of Jesus complete by osmosis or wishful thinking.

David asked the Lord to hear his prayer in Psalm 119:169 when he wrote, "Please, Lord, hear my prayer and give me the understanding that comes from Your Word." King David recognized that the understanding to live life comes from God's Word. The most revered king of Israel, inspired by the spirit of God, penned the longest chapter of the Bible. It is no coincidence that the lengthy chapter is devoted entirely to discussing the priceless value of God's Word.

Lord, I need understanding and truth in my life every day. Please help me to retreat to Your Word daily so I know how to live an effective life of perceptiveness in dealing with all that comes my way. Enable me to refrain from seeking wisdom from people, professionals, or popular opinions, unless their counsel aligns with the Bible.

One of Dad's nurses coincidentally shared her own "slop bucket" story just two days before I published this blog post. It was too good not to share.

Slop as a Crime Deterrent

Many years ago her grandmother owned and operated a cafe in the small Kansas town of Roxbury. The cafe was experiencing break-ins. Her no-nonsense grandma had enough. She was more than willing to give hungry people leftovers from the cafe, but she just couldn't abide the thought of someone pilfering through her cafe supplies so she decided to take things into her own hands. This gutsy restaurateur sent everyone home and made herself comfortable as she waited with her smelly, slimy bucket of slop. As she sat quietly, she soon heard the culprit approaching the window to gain entrance to her cafe. This determined grandma doused the unknowing robber with the entire contents of the slop bucket, timing the repulsive drenching perfectly. She put the slop bucket in its proper place, gathered her things, and walked the couple of blocks to her home, never bothering to identify or confront the stinky stealer. Needless to say, that little cafe had no more thieving!