Media Overexposure

As 2009 draws to a close, I’m looking forward to hearing a lot less about certain Americans in 2010. Some have become paparazzi targets because of their bad behavior; others are people who are just a little bit odd. A few are commendable, but are milking their moment of fame beyond the allotted 15 minutes.

At the top of my list of most annoying and overexposed people are Jon and Kate Gosselin. Every time Jon stepped out with a new adulterous it made news. Every time Kate had a screaming fit it made news. I can’t understand why newspapers, magazines and Web sites ran stories about every squabble the reality show couple had with each other. The eight kids won’t know how to live without cameras in their face. Unfortunately, Kate will get her own talk show in the spring (why should a single mother stay home with her eight young children?) so we’ll be seeing plenty of her.

Speaking of single moms with plenty of young children, here’s hoping octomom Nadia Suleman fades from view. Thankfully she didn’t get her own reality series, but I’m afraid we haven’t seen the last of the cosmetically altered craver of attention.

Sarah Palin, You betcha! Every outrageous blunder gets media attention. I haven’t quite figured out why a governor who quits her job in mid term to write a book enthralls so many people.

Chesley Sullenberger. Certainly the pilot is a hero for the way he handled the jet crashing into the Hudson River. But why is he still popping up on talk shows nearly a year later? To peddle the 340-page book (list price $25.99) he’s written about the experience.

Michael Jackson. The coronation the media bestowed upon him before, during and after his funeral made me think a saint had died. Jackson is dead. Just like Elvis. Look for more uncritical stories of how wonderful Jackson was in 2010.

Adam Lambert. We know he’s gay and is outlandish. Let’s stop giving him so much attention.

Al Gore. Why do news magazines keep running cover stories about what a global warming genius he is? They told us that years ago.

Mark Sanford. The South Carolina governor disappeared for days while sneaking off to see his adulterous partner in Argentina, then returned to hold a press conference explaining he had found his “soul mate.” Instead of resigning from office in an effort to salvage his marriage (as New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer did last year), Sanford ignored wife Jenny’s reconciliation attempts. He also narrowly survived impeachment efforts by his own political party. At least his presidential political aspirations for 2012 are kaput. So is his marriage (Jenny just filed for divorce). Gratefully his gubernatorial term is up this year. Maybe he should take some time figuring out how he forgot to be a role model to his four sons.

Miley Cyrus. She just turned 17, but I think she’ll be headed for an early divorce and drug rehab if she doesn’t engage in normal childhood activities.

Glenn Beck. Rush Limbaugh is rich enough. How can a Mormon right-winger prove to be an even more popular purveyor of divisive politics?

Tiger Woods. I wouldn’t mind seeing him on the golf course, but he seems destined for a year in the tabloids instead.

The Joys of Winter

Winter always has been my least favorite season. Yet I may be mellowing with age. It certainly helps to live in southern Missouri where the harsh, snowy winters of my childhood and youth in Iowa are a distant memory (I didn’t care much for the six winters I spent in suburban Chicago in the 1990s either).

Maybe I’m more mature, or less of a wimp, or just more appreciative, but I’ve come to not dread winter as much as in the past. In fact, the season has unique benefits.

Food has a lot to do with the upside of winter. There’s the stuff that really tastes good on those crisp days: chili, oatmeal, hot chocolate, hot tea. There’s the holiday baking, the homemade fruitcake that’s inappropriate any other time.

There’s also the homey atmosphere unlike the rest of the year: a blazing fire in the fireplace; scented candles throughout the house; sweaters that keep you warm.

Of course winter provides an escape from the drudgery of summer: oppressive heat that makes it uncomfortable to be outside; mowing the yard and pulling weeds every week; avoiding skunks on my morning walk; dealing with the threat of mosquitoes, ticks and poison ivy; suffering through allergies that make it difficult to breathe.

Perhaps the best part of winter is Christmas and all that it means: family coming home to visit; my wife knocking herself out making fabulous meals; playing the favorite Christmas music that hibernates the rest of the year; a long vacation from work; and, of course, remembering the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Driven to Distraction

On a recent three-day trip to Northern California I had the pleasure of navigating amidst millions of cars in and around San Francisco, Oakland and Sacramento. Sure, bottlenecks appeared every once in awhile, but overall the experience proved satisfying. Golden State drivers know how to drive.

California motorists are aggressive, but not rude. They drive the speed limit (or slightly above), merge in a timely manner and signal their intentions.

Then I had to come back to Springfield, Mo., which I believe must have the worst drivers in the United States. Seemingly every day on the way to work, a driver will sit at a stop sign for a few seconds, then pull out of front of me and drive 20 miles an hour. Drivers fail to get into the intersection when turning left, leaving me stranded for another round at a red light. They stop while on an interstate ramp. On a one-way street they turn left from the middle lane. They drive on frosty mornings without even scraping a peep hole in their windshield.

The list goes on and on, but I’ll quit whining. Maybe all the street and highway improvements in and around Springfield will make for a better motoring experience. I am grateful not to live in the one place with even worse drivers: Branson.

The Glories of Christmases Long, Long Ago

Some of the most popular Christmas songs blaring on radio stations these days are nostalgic tunes that bear little resemblance to the holiday in 2009.

Christmas these days too often seems to be about eating and shopping, not the wistful reminiscing of songs of yesteryear. I’m sure some of the twentysomething singers belting these songs can’t really appreciate the experience of the songwriters.

Specifically, the ever-popular “Sleigh Ride” talks of a couple holding hands and singing choruses while taking a horse-drawn journey in the snow. A stop at Farmer Gray’s house involves watching chestnuts pop in the fireplace. The scene, according to the song, is “like a picture print by Currier and Ives.” Who knows these days what a picture print is or who Currier and Ives were? See above.

Another tune, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” is even more obscure for today’s crowd. Kids no longer go jingle belling and friends don’t come to call with Christmas wishes. I suppose there are still “gay happy meetings,” but of a different variety.

We really don’t see people toasting marshmallows, telling scary ghost stories, hanging out under the mistletoe or even caroling out in the snow much any more. We do see people lined up for hours to buy a flat-screen TV or an iPhone.

In any regard, the continued playing time such songs receive on the air is an indication that people have ideals of what Christmas should be. At our house we’ll all be snuggled around the fireplace, eating a traditional meal made by my traditional wife with our traditional family. Truly, our hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near.

Yet Another Transgression

Tiger Woods on Wednesday joined a long list of noted athletes, politicians and entertainers this year to make a vague public apology for an unspecified sin. His statement came after media reports of his carrying on a 2½-year adulterous relationship with a cocktail waitress.

Woods, of course, didn’t admit infidelity. He merely said he had “not been true to my values” and “I regret those transgressions with all my heart.”

For most of the statement, Wood lashed out at the media for hounding him. “Personal sins should not require press releases and problems within a family shouldn’t have to mean public confessions,” Woods wrote. He said he had been “dismayed” by the lack of privacy afforded him.

Woods can’t have it both ways. You can’t be the nation’s most adored athlete, one who makes millions swinging a golf club and additional millions for commercial endorsements, and then say your private life is off limits. The amazing thing is that such a high-profile celebrity could carry on a lengthy affair and keep it secret.

You would think that common sense would dissuade such public figures from engaging in extramarital affairs. While some emerge relatively unscathed, others lose their wife and career in short order.

One might wonder why Tiger Woods would have an affair with a cocktail waitress in the first place. For five years he has been married to gorgeous blonde Swedish model Elin Nordegren. The couple has a 2½-year-old daughter and a 9-month-old son.

But affairs, especially for the rich and powerful, usually aren’t about what they have but about what lies beyond their grasp. For the common man as well as for the man who seemingly has everything, the lure of the forbidden fruit can bring ruin if not quenched.

My First Black Friday Shopping Experience

The Kohl’s advertisement in Thursday’s newspaper got my attention with all the promises of Black Friday savings. I didn’t really think setting the alarm for 3:30 a.m. to get to the store by 4 would be sensible, but I happened to wake up at 3:30 anyway when nature called. So I drove to the retailer, the first time I ventured out the day after Thanksgiving on an early morning shopping spree.

There sure seemed to be a lot of vehicles in the parking lot, but I comforted myself with the assurance that the crowd milling around the front door didn’t appear to be too long. Silly me. Upon closer inspection, the line wended its way around the sidewalk for hundreds and hundreds of people. Some, I learned from an article in the Saturday newspaper, had been there for 10 hours.

Anyway, once I got inside the discount chain among the mass of bargain hunters I resolutely went to find the two items I wanted: a suitcase and a knife set, both more than two-thirds off the normal price. I pitied the shoppers dawdling in the clothes and appliance sections. Even though I had my items in hand by 4:15, the line for the cash registers already stretched halfway around the store.

I have to hand it to Kohl’s. They not only know how to attract buyers, they also know how to get them out of the store as quickly as possible. A man with a large “Line Starts Here” sign left no doubt where I needed to go. Every few minutes over the intercom another man announced that saving places in line wouldn’t be tolerated. Once I finally made it to the checkout, the store had every cash register operating and even baggers at most stations to speed the process along.

By 4:45 I had escaped to the parking lot, the receipt telling me I had saved $220. I’m glad I didn’t pause to look at shirts. By the time I left, the waiting line had grown to twice as long as when I entered it.

Good Television Still Exists

If you know me, you realize I’m a nostalgic guy. I’d rather watch a movie from the ‘50s, a TV show from the ‘60s and listen to the music of the ‘70s than most anything available today in any of those formats.

Yet, amazingly in this crude, sex-saturated culture there still are multiple refreshing new programs on television every week. When I have the time, I don’t like to miss the following:

• CBS Sunday Morning. This 90-minute staple before church is the best news show on the tube, mixing an eclectic batch of interesting features each week. The correspondents are as varied as the segments, which all make for an interesting look at music, art, sports, religion and a whole lot more.

• The Middle (ABC, Wednesday nights). It’s been a long time since I’ve followed a primetime broadcast series, but I’m fairly hooked on this one. Patricia Heaton carries the series as a middle-aged harried, unsuccessful car saleswoman with a largely disengaged husband and three emotionally needy children. The fact that the family lives in rural Indiana and struggles to make ends meet only makes it more credible. The show is devoid of the bawdy talk and innuendo that passes for humor on much of network television.

• Monk (USA, Friday nights). This groundbreaking series is about to wrap up its eighth season. The scripts aren’t as crisp as in the early years, yet it’s difficult not to get wrapped up in the lives of the title character and supporting cast.

• You Are What You Eat (BBC America, Tuesday nights). Gillian McKeith is Britain’s weight cop, plucking two desperate people to live in her house each week in an effort to keep them from eating themselves into an early grave. She mercilessly scolds them for eating a variety of junk foods and sets the guidelines for turning their lives around. The show has a lot of pathos, as the houseguests hate her tactics yet realize they must incorporate better eating habits for their survival. The show always is informative and is never dull. By the end of the eight-week treatment guests generally have dropped 15-25 pounds.

• Jeopardy! (syndicated, late afternoon or early evening). Now in its 26th season, the classic answer and question game show always entertains.

Animal Rights, Come on Down!

Retired game show host Bob Barker has given $1 million to Drury University in Springfield to establish “a professorship on animal rights.” Barker, who graduated from the school in 1947, hopes the gift will lead to Drury offering the nation’s first animal rights undergraduate program.

“I think some students would become full-fledged animal rights activists,” said Barker, who last year gave another $1 million to set up the Drury Forum on Animal Rights, which resulted in a class taught on animal ethics. Barker also has donated endowment funds for animal rights law at eight law schools around the country.

I agree that animals shouldn’t be mistreated. But the whole idea of animals being endowed with certain inalienable rights seems a bit, uh, wacky.

Animals can be great companions. I’ve shed a tear or two when pet birds or dogs have died. But, from a biblical perspective, animals have no souls. Their purpose on earth is to be companions to humans and sometimes food for humans.

Hey, Bob, how about giving a million bucks to set up a course explaining that human life is precious and we shouldn’t be throwing aborted babies in trash cans?

Mr. Playboy Is Mr. Pathetic

Has anyone else noticed how pathetic Hugh Hefner looks these days? Despite all the wonder drugs, age is finally catching up to him, as it eventually does with everybody who lives long enough. He still wears the trademark robe and slippers out in public. All that’s missing is the drooling.

In interviews, usually conducted with a trio of tall blondes him at his sides, Hefner looks like a great-grandpa being propped up en route to the bathroom. He repeatedly has to ask questioners to repeat themselves because he is hard of hearing. He has a daughter who is retired. Maybe that should tell you something.

Hefner’s whole façade of an old man living a fantasy sex life grew tiresome a few dozen girlfriends ago. He is desperately trying to retain youth; the cosmetically enhanced women 60 years his junior are simply looking for, um, exposure.

When a sixth season of The Girls Next Door began last month, Hefner’s previous mansion playmates had achieved enough fame to launch their own careers. He now has younger replacement models to fawn over him.

“The grand adventure begins anew,” Hefner opined to the camera. He’s dubbed 22-year-old Crystal Harris his “number one girlfriend.”

“I don’t notice his age,” Harris said. Guess she doesn’t believe there’s something creepy about an octogenarian crawling around in a bed with the latest centerfold.
Oh, and Hefner has 19-year-old twins as backups.

Of course nobody really lives like this. Lost in all the media love fest over Hefner as a First Amendment trailblazer is the fact that he is committing adultery with women one-fourth his age. I think we’d all be better off if Hefner did what another 83-year-old revolutionary has done. He should go into exile like Fidel Castro.

It’s Not Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

I drove my minivan into Springfield on Saturday morning — Halloween — and I thought I was in the Twilight Zone. I turned on the radio and heard Bing Crosby singing White Christmas on a local secular station. I punched the dial and Amy Grant sang O Little Town of Bethlehem on a Christian station.

Had I fallen asleep and missed November? After all, Halloween is in October. But no, the recorded announcement on the secular station informed me in between Andy Williams and Johnny Mathis extolling the winter holiday. “We just couldn’t wait!” the recording explained.

Well, I can. I don’t want to hear about a white Christmas, sleigh bells or Santa before the Great Pumpkin has disappeared. It’s not beginning to look a lot like Christmas on Halloween. The temperature is in the upper 60s and the World Series is still being played.

The reason some radio stations can’t wait is because advertisers want to extend the Christmas shopping season beyond the traditional 30-day window. I’d like to get through Thanksgiving before thinking about “the most wonderful time of the year.”

Barbarism of a Bygone Era

Earlier this month I visited the National World War I Museum (www.libertymemorialmuseum.org) in Kansas City, Mo. It’s a fascinating place. I had been there before, but it’s just as eye-opening a second time.

The museum does a good job of explaining a period in history that is often neglected and why the impact of the war affects this globe today. Just look at a pre-World War I map of Europe compared to the number of countries today to see how the Great War changed the geography, politics and culture of the continent. The war changed Europe from a predominantly monarch-led region to one of democracies.

The museum skillfully explains how the United States emerged as a global industrial, military and political power because of the conflict.

The conditions of war change from era to era, but not the cruelty of it. In World War I, unsuspected soldiers would march through a field and fall into camouflaged pits in which they would be impaled by giant spikes. Mustard gas made its first widespread appearance during the war. So did tanks, to get through barbed wire, another recent innovation adapted for wartime use. And airplanes, dropping bombs for the first time.

The museum contains an amazing 55,000 artifacts, including weapons, uniforms and vehicles. There are a variety of photographs, movie clips and maps from the period, as well as interactive exhibits. A month-by-month timeline gives explicit details of the war years.

Much of the war was fought in trenches, where the squalor of disease claimed as many victims as weaponry. These tactics of a bygone era — during which both of my parents were born — occurred less than 100 years ago. What barbarism will warfare involve by the end of this century, if the earth is still around that long?

Change of Fortunes

I’m not watching the League Championship Series this week. And I won’t be watching the World Series next week. I’m bitter. I could barely stomach the first round of the playoffs because my team — the St. Louis Cardinals — looked like amateurs in getting swept three games to none by the Los Angeles Dodgers.

This seemed like a punch in the stomach to Cardinals fans because the team had the best player in the league (Albert Pujols) and arguably the two best pitchers (Chris Carpenter and Adam Wainwright). Many pundits expected St. Louis to win it all. But after being the first team to wrap up a playoff berth, the Cardinals went flat and never recovered.

The swift demise felt especially cruel because St. Louis had its best August ever en route to cruising to an 11-game lead. After everything worked so smoothly, fans figured the team would at least be competitive in the postseason.

But everyday life has parallels for those us not making millions a year to hit and chase a ball. Everything seems to be working out in life, then an unexpected crisis hits. We lose a job. A spouse gets gravely ill. A parent dies. Such calamities have the potential to spin our normal routines out of control — or spur us to fervently consider what’s really important.

Baseball is a fun distraction. But it’s not vital to my well-being. I think I’m over the fiasco of the Cardinals for the moment. Maybe I can focus on something better, like relationships and ministry.

Irate Over Immigrants

I was glad to see the National Association of Evangelicals (http://www.nae.net/) pass a resolution last week calling for immigration reform, with the focus that immigrants should be treated with respect and mercy.

For a long time I’ve been saddened by some of the caustic rhetoric heard from the mouths of Christians about immigrants. Their arguments sound more like commentary from some radio talk show hosts rather than the Bible.

In early adulthood, living in small-town Iowa with a 99 percent white population, I had many of the same leanings. What’s with all these non-white people coming to this country trying to steal what I deserve? After all, I was born here.

My thinking changed radically when I moved to the Chicago suburbs and found myself surrounded by Filipino, Pakistani and Polish neighbors. It shifted further in 1996 when I met Carlos on a freelance reporting project. Carlos immigrated to the United States from Mexico as a teenager and soon found work in a factory in suburban Chicago. I interviewed him in his sparsely furnished tiny bedroom that he rented — from Bible-believing Christians — as an illegal alien. Carlos explained that he would have wound up in jail or dead if he stayed in Mexico. In the United States he became a Christian. When I talked to him, he led a weekly Bible study for other Hispanics.

If I lived on the U.S. side of the border with Mexico I may have a different perspective. I’ve heard the arguments that Mexicans entering the country are thieves, drug dealers and murderers, as if they had a monopoly on such activities. I don’t advocate allowing immigrants to move into the country carte blanche. But when someone has lived in this country for several years, worked at jobs few others would accept and accepted the gospel upon hearing it for the first time, is that grounds to despise them?

Most immigrants aren’t terrorists. They often moved here for economic survival. Afterwards, they become productive citizens. Scripture has admonition after admonition about how to treat aliens compassionately. There’s no distinction between legal and illegal.

For example, Leviticus 19:33-34 declares, “When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born.” Jesus’ Parable of the Good Samaritan teaches that we need to be kind to reviled foreigners.

Last fall I visited the Statue of Liberty in New York. It might be a good idea for all of us to remember the famous poem written by Emma Lazarus that is inscribed on the base of that beacon of hope in the harbor:

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

In the immigration debate we need to adhere to biblical and ethical principles rather than political bombast.

Walk for Life Raises Record Amount

The Springfield Pregnancy Care Center raised a record amount of funds Saturday for its eighth annual Walk for Life. More than $121,000 had been collected by the day of the event, which for the past two years has included a five-kilometer run.

The fundraising is especially important this year, as some of the government-financed school abstinence programs have been cut. Thankfully, despite the recession, many givers stepped up to make sure that some of the shortfall is made up.

My wife Patty and I have been involved nearly every year in the walk, and she again served on the planning committee this year. We had unprecedented participation this year from fellow Assemblies of God employees as well as first-time involvement by attendees of Nu Brew Church. It’s encouraging when people who are pro-life take steps to back up their beliefs.

Letterman’s Bizarre Non-Confession

I happened to be watching David Letterman on Thursday night when he told his bizarre rambling story of being blackmailed for doing “some terrible, terrible things.”

The extortion tale came between the monologue and the first guest appearance. Most in the studio audience assumed the 10-minute segment to be part of a gag with a big punch line at the end. Throughout the account Letterman made lighthearted jokes about his “towering mass of Lutheran Midwestern guilt” and “the creepy things I have done.” The crowd laughed and applauded throughout the revelation, which really didn’t reveal much.

Letterman admitted having sex with female staffers, but said nothing else, beyond law enforcement convincing him to pay an extortionist $2 million to keep the details involved quiet. Most of Letterman’s on-air narrative dealt with law enforcement efforts making sure the blackmailer got arrested. Letterman didn’t say how many women were involved or when the episodes took place. The story is more intriguing because the longtime talk-show host married his live-in partner of 23 years in March. The couple has a 6-year-old son. The accused extortionist, Robert Joel Halderman, until recently lived with Stephanie Birkitt, one of Letterman’s former intimates.

Halderman should have known that celebrities today aren’t willing to pay hush money to keep news of their sex life quiet. By going public, Letterman hopes the controversy will be defused quickly. That’s unlikely to happen. The door is now open for the women employees to file lawsuits of sexual harassment by a supervisor.

And how will the 62-year-old Letterman, whose career has largely been built on making fun of others, be able to tell jokes about the sex lives of politicians, athletes and movie stars anymore and still have credibility?

Should Rape Be Forgiven?

Political leaders and entertainers around the world are clamoring for film director Roman Polanski to be freed. Polanski, a resident of France, was en route to the Zurich Film Festival on Saturday when Swiss authorities arrested him on a California court warrant.

Polanski fled the United States in 1977 after pleading guilty to unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor. American investigators say Polanski slipped a13-year-old model a hypnotic sedative, gave her champagne, then engaged in various sex acts with her.

His defenders, including 138 in the film industry who signed a petition against the arrest, are proclaiming that Polanski is a victim, that efforts to extradite him would “take away his freedom.” The signatories, including Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese, expressed “dismay” that Polanski would be detained at a film festival in a “neutral” country. The petition demands the “immediate release” of “a renowned and international artist.”

I won’t deny that Polanski is a gifted director. I particularly enjoyed his 1980 movie Tess, for which he received an Academy Award nomination, and his 2002 work The Pianist, for which he won the Oscar. The latter alludes to Polanski’s personal trauma in surviving the Holocaust (his mother died in a Nazi concentration camp). Polanski also experienced excruciating grief when Charles Manson’s gang murdered his eight-months-pregnant wife Sharon Tate in 1969.

Beyond arguments that he is a fine filmmaker who has suffered, some defenders contend that Polanski should be forgiven for the crime because of his age (76), it happened 32 years ago and his victim wants to forget the whole ordeal.

But these excuses all miss the point. Polanski committed a horrific crime, confessed and fled. To allow him — or anyone less famous — to walk away free sends a message that sexually abusing young teenage girls is no big deal. That’s a message that is wrong, whether it’s 1977 or 2009.

Credit Card Heroes?

Some business analysts and consumer groups are hailing a new credit card plan by JPMorgan Chase as a means for customers to keep a better handle on debt. I think the new Chase Blueprint card is merely a ploy to get consumers to put more on their card that they really can’t afford to pay back.

The unique feature of the card is that it allows customers to avoid paying interest on everyday items such as groceries. The kicker, though, is that cardholders must designate what constitutes everyday items in advance and that amount still must be paid in full every month to avoid interest fees. Meanwhile, debt keeps racking up on other charged goods.

Such a plan gives customers a false sense of security. Few would choose to charge food if they had enough cash in their bank account. Odds are they won’t have the required amount a month later when the bill comes due.

I speak from experience. In the 1990s I put groceries on a credit card month after month — along with clothes, gasoline, dining out and furniture. Pretty soon I found myself $25,000 in debt.

If lenders really wanted to help strapped Americans they wouldn’t have repeatedly raised interest rates during the past year.

Preaching Standards

While hearing a preacher deliver a sermon away from my home church a couple of weeks ago I thought it sounded awfully familiar. My wife did some checking and discovered that paragraph after paragraph of the talk had been taken almost verbatim from a recent article in a ministerial journal.

This wasn’t a backwater preacher we heard. He’s a published author and nationally recognized church leader. Unfortunately, it’s become common practice for many time-strapped pastors to lift material from other sources and stand in the pulpit as though the words are their own. I know pastors have many pressing duties beyond delivering the Word every week. There’s nothing wrong with borrowing a few sentences from another source — as long as there is attribution.

I find it disturbing that many ministers freely appropriate the works of others (and there is a burgeoning market out there to sell such fare) in a profession that is supposed to be teaching ethics and righteousness. Silly me. I thought maybe those who are close to God might be able to provide fresh insights of their own.

Certainly in my profession of journalism there’s no tolerance for plagiarism. I once discovered a writer had incorporated quotes from a newspaper from a source he couldn’t reach himself and slapped his byline on it. The writer didn’t get paid for the article he submitted and I’ve never used him again.

Most every profession is stressed these days, but we shouldn’t give in to temptations to take shortcuts. I don’t have as much time to spend writing now because our staff has downsized. Yet I still have to interview people myself. I can’t be lazy and steal the published articles of others.

The ultimate paradox of the plagiarizing pastor is the topic of his sermon: How we no longer can tell the standards of the church apart from the world’s standards.

Crazy Love

Our small group at church just wrapped up a 10-week study of Francis Chan’s book Crazy Love. It’s been both a challenging and depressing journey. I felt deflated every week by the end of the chapter at how far below God’s expectations I fall. Yet I’m encouraged that books like this are being written and, more importantly, read.

Crazy Love is the first book written by Chan, founding pastor of Corner Church in Simi Valley, Calif. The book struck a chord, selling more than 350,000 copies since its release last year. Chan is donating the royalties to a ministry that fights human trafficking.

The point of Chan’s book is that most Christians don’t live Christ-like lives. We’re off base because we measure our morals by the people around us rather than by Scripture. It’s a theme repeated in two other new books I’ve just read: 10 Things I Hate About Christianity (which is the next subject of our small group) by Jason Berggren and Losing My Religion by William Lobdell. If Christianity is supposed to change the way we think and act, why do we look so much like those who have no faith? Why are we so preoccupied with our own comforts? Why don’t we have compassion for other people? Ultimately Crazy Love shows how much our society — and many of our churches — has drifted away from biblical principles.

A Strange Brew

I went to see a couple of baseball games in St. Louis last week. The marketing gurus of the Cardinals had been working overtime. Already there were plenty of John Smoltz shirts for sale in the stadium’s team store, even though the veteran pitcher had only made two starts for the team and may not be around after next month.

The economics of major league baseball dictates a revolving door of players. Only five of the 25 ballplayers on the 2006 World Championship squad are still on the team. And by observing the dozens of jerseys in the stands bearing the names of Eckstein, Rolen, Edmonds and a host of others, apparently fans aren’t shy about shelling out $30 to $180 bucks to wear the name of a player who will be traded away or not resigned soon after achieving glory in the Gateway City.

But the real eye-opener for me came in where we sat for the Thursday afternoon game, in the back row of a section that is in front of a fully stocked bar. Hundreds of people, who presumably have paid anywhere from $20 to $100 for a ticket to watch the game, spent the entire afternoon drinking. It’s a custom I don’t quite understand. I comprehend the socializing aspect of hanging out at a bar, but why do so many people — most of them affluent, good-looking young people — feel the need to spend $7.75 on beer after beer at a ballgame that they don’t even care about?

Occasionally people would glance up at one of the ubiquitous TV screens located above the bar. But only when Albert Pujols came up with the bases loaded in the eighth inning did anyone really pay attention.

I understand why the ballpark tolerates it. There are tremendous profits to be made, even deducting for paying a police officer to stand guard in case a riot breaks out.

Loss of Power

The electricity inexplicably went out at 8:15 last Thursday night at my house, in the neighborhood and indeed, I later found out, for miles around. Just a summer power outage on a calm night without any storms.

Naturally, a 21st century American reacts with indignation when the house goes dark. What an inconvenience to be deprived of the ballgame on the TV or chatting on my computer! Or, in my case, to be deprived of the book I had just settled down to read. Even with several candles going it proved too dim to see.

The power failure showed me how dependent I am on electricity. Seemingly I can’t eat, learn or communicate without devices plugged into an outlet to help me along.

But the darkness also provided a welcome respite. There in the stillness of the night, without even the time on the clock glowing or the refrigerator humming, I had time to pray to the One who is the ultimate power source, the Creator of everything.

A Decade on the Job

Today marks my 10-year anniversary working for Pentecostal Evangel magazine at Assemblies of God headquarters. My job has changed dramatically in the past decade. Initially I only worked on the monthly missions magazine, taking an overseas trip every couple of months. But I haven’t been out of the country for five years now, as my responsibilities shifted to editing the weekly news section of the domestic edition of the magazine (http://pe.ag.org/).

Much else has changed in the past 10 years of work, of course. In 1999 the Internet didn’t play that big a role in my daily duties; now it’s indispensable. Of course many readers, especially younger ones, have forsaken the printed word for the Web. And the fallout has been tremendous. In just the past year our staff has shrunk from 14 to nine.

Circulation has fallen every year since I’ve been at the magazine, and we’ve lost about 70,000 readers overall in that span. Obviously that trend can’t continue if the magazine is to be around another 10 years.

I’m optimistic that the magazine and newspaper industries will bounce back. Many people like to pick up the daily paper or the weekly periodical, even if the content isn’t free like it is online. I hope that happens; I’d like to keep doing this for awhile.

A Visit to Philadelphia

For a history buff such as me, my visit to the City of Brotherly Love over the weekend proved to be quite rewarding when I had some spare time during a reporting trip. I visited Independence Hall, a 250-year-old building that was the site of the signing of both the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution. I saw the Liberty Bell, which is in a new structure across the street. And a museum devoted to Benjamin Franklin, a genius in so many ways.

Sometimes we forget what a risk the signers of the Declaration took. Many were prominent and prosperous, yet they risked their livelihood and indeed their lives by proposing tyranny against the king of England. It’s also hard to imagine a time when news spread largely by published works, such as Thomas Paine’s Common Sense. They had no Facebook accounts, no texting, no cell phone or even telegraph.

I also found the National Convention Center nearby to be worth investigating, although, unlike most other sites, there is a fee. The imposing life-size bronze sculptures of the 42 signers around when the Constitutional Convention wrapped up are depicted in an imposing, eerie exhibit. Old white men didn’t really found the country. White and men for sure, but the average age of the signers was 42. These men, too, took a great risk in establishing what has become quite a successful stab at democracy.

Crazed DVR

The DVR went crazy last Friday night. I set it up to record the season premiere of Monk, which turned out to be a better episode than most of the previous two seasons. I didn’t watch the program until Saturday night. By then I discovered that the DVR didn’t shut off after the hour-long Monk episode. It kept recording all night, not only on the USA Network but also on the USA high definition channel.

Consequently, the malfunction wiped out everything I had saved earlier, primarily about 20 TCM movies. Initially I became quite angry at the technological glitch. But putting it in perspective, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. My wife thought maybe even the Lord was behind it.

After a 10-hour workday my customary evening ritual usually involves watching a movie or other recorded program as a way to “relax.” Although the content is good (“classic” movies), the choices available on the DVR also can hold me hostage to the TV. Now I actually might have to do more of other activities, like praying and talking to my wife.

Sudden Death

Sunday night on the way home from church I came upon a fatal accident that had happened 10 minutes earlier on a state highway.

A fire truck with lights flashing stopped traffic at the scene and firefighters milled about the blacktop, but no medical personnel or law enforcement officers had arrived yet. As I slowed my car, I saw another auto parked on the shoulder. The right side of the windshield had cracked into hundreds of pieces, but hadn’t shattered. Blood stains splattered the glass where the windshield and metal frame met.

As I drove on a few yards more I saw the surreal scene of a man laying facedown in the ditch. Just then a firefighter removed a tarp from the truck and covered him up. By now I saw an ambulance in my rear-view mirror with lights flashing. A siren wailed and I wondered why. The man obviously had died instantly.

A few yards further I looked out the window of my creeping vehicle and saw a bare leg, severed below the knee, lying on the gravel shoulder of the highway. It’s a graphic image that sticks in my brain.

Shaken, I immediately called my wife who was still with church friends, and told her to take another route home.

The next day I read in the local paper that a car driven by a 54-year-old woman had struck the 79-year-old pedestrian. The collision occurred on a slight ridge shortly before twilight. The walker and driver probably never saw each other before impact.

Rarely do we get into a car and consider the gravity of the undertaking. As we chug down the road at 60 miles per hour, a sudden movement by us or another driver can mean immediate death.

Sunday night on the phone I told my wife to be careful coming home. Life is precious. And it can end quickly.

Too Early for Politics

It’s a pleasant eight months after the lengthy 2008 presidential campaign season. For more than a year, Americans were bombarded with daily tracking polls on how the candidates were faring in the minds of voters. Ultimately, the predictions proved to be extremely accurate.

I thought we might have another couple of years of rest before the pollsters and pundits began pummeling us with the next presidential race. I was wrong. Rasmussen Reports already is asking people about the November 2012 election. I find that a bit goofy, for several reasons:

• How can people be asked if they favor Mitt Romney or Sarah Palin over Barack Obama when no one will declare a candidacy until 2011?

• The Republican Party is in disarray, so to anoint a front-runner right now seems premature.

• The issues during the next three years will have a lot to do with how people feel about Obama. By 2012, most people will either have him as a financial savior or label him as the man who bankrupted the country. Remember George W. Bush had the support of nearly all Americans in September 2011. By the end of his second term, even his friends didn’t want to admit they supported him.

• Early front-runners have a way of flaming out. Rudy Giuliani had the media tag of can’t-miss GOP nominee a couple of years ago. Despite spending a tremendous amount of money, he ended up withdrawing from the race without capturing any states.

Medical Missteps

My wife and I rarely take any drug more potent than an aspirin; she rarely takes even an aspirin.

We’ve seen the folly of taking too many medications, both firsthand and with friends and relatives. We’ve managed to find alternative herbal remedies — to be taken as needed rather than several times a day for life — for nearly everything for which we used to pop prescription pills.

Pharmaceutical defenders quickly chastise us for living so dangerously. Don’t you know the FDA hasn’t run clinical trials to verify the safety of these herbs, they ask? I guess that’s why FDA-regulated drugs list possible side effects such as blindness, seizures and death.

We have doctor and nurse friends. I had no qualms going to an emergency room when I broke my finger last month. But much of the medical profession, driven by the insurance industry, has become too concerned with profits and not enough about patients. The only time my wife has been to a doctor’s office in the past couple of years was for a urine test — which cost us more than $300.

In the 1980s physicians convinced my wife to undergo a couple of operations that left her in worse shape than before. A quarter century later, she’s still dealing with nerve damage from the carpal tunnel surgery.

Unnecessary surgeries are only part of the problem. We’ve become an overmedicated society. At the slightest sign of discomfort we want a pill to ease it, despite the potentially damaging side effects. Heath Ledger’s death testifies about the dangers of mixing prescription drugs.

Being wealthy is no protection from an improper drug regimen, hospital infections or misdiagnosis. Ask the families of Michael Jackson, Heath Ledger, John Ritter, Maurice Gibb, June Carter Cash, Jim Henson and Natasha Richardson. Better living through chemistry isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

A Navigation Godsend

Recently I flew to Atlanta for a two-day reporting trip that required me to cover two stories in two different cities near the Georgia capital.

The car rental clerk inquired whether I would like a GPS system with the vehicle.

“How much?” I asked. I never had driven with one before.

"Only $10 a day," she replied.

I think God prompted her to ask the question.

I’m not much for 20th century technology. I haven’t felt the need to own a BlackBerry or an iPod. But after a weekend in the company of a Global Positioning System, I’m convinced it’s one of the greatest inventions of my lifetime, right up there with the cell phone, the Internet and the DVR — all devices that save time and relieve stress.

If my wife is with me, one of us can read a road map. But when alone, trying to decipher 18 steps of written MapQuest instructions while getting from point A to point B can be risky — for me and other drivers.

To reach my destinations I had to drive through Atlanta, once going north, the other time south, in the midst of a city that must rank near the top in vehicles per capita. Atlanta and its suburbs have a lot of traffic, and the roads aren’t necessarily straight or logically designed.

But typing an address into the portable GPS resulted in perfect voice results every time to get me to the exact location. Every step of the way a voice prompted me where to go to reach my destination. It spared me from a potential crash, missing a turn or being late.

I don’t understand how the satellite technology works. I just benefited from it. For a brief history of GPS, see: http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1900862,00.html

Eating Right for Your Blood Type

Years ago I gave up ingesting the bad stuff: apple fritters, soda pop, pepperoni pizza, ice cream. Nevertheless, despite a moderate amount of exercise, I’ve managed to gain an average of a pound or two a year for awhile to the point where I’m 20 pounds over my recommended healthy weight.

I’ve tried to eat the right stuff, according to what the health and nutrition experts tell me. I’ve loaded up on foods containing whole grains, tomatoes, raw nuts and pomegranates. Now, a book by a naturopathic physician and researcher that my wife picked up recently, informs me that those wonder foods are anathema because I’m a B-positive blood type.

In great detail, “Eat Right 4 Your Type” by Peter J. D’Adamo contends that we aren’t healthy and we don’t lose weight because we’re eating the wrong foods for our makeup. Certain foods for certain people don’t digest well and thus are likely to add the pounds. So, Patty and I are embarking on a new eating plan with this premise: eat the foods deemed beneficial, avoid the foods that are toxic.

So I’ll be saying goodbye to some of my favorite foods: crab, shrimp, lobster, sea bass, cashews, shredded wheat. Some of those foods that are supposedly great for me I don’t like, such as rice cakes, horseradish and licorice.

Patty is an O blood type and finding foods that boost both of us will be a challenge. Looks like we’ll be having a lot of cod and sweet potato dinners. But I’ll be able to partake of many good foods I’ve avoided, including cottage cheese, pineapple and yogurt.

No Recipe for Healing

A week after the story of South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford’s adulterous affair broke, I’m still waiting for him to wise up. On Tuesday, Sanford admitted that he had repeatedly hedged on revealing the details of his eight-year relationship with Argentinean Maria Belen Chapur ( http://www.usatoday.com/printedition/news/20090701/sanford01_st.art.htm). He also confessed that he had engaged in multiple physical contacts with other women outside the country, but that he hadn’t had sexual intercourse with them.

He didn’t provide specifics, but any improper physical relationship with a woman not your wife is infidelity. The new revelations come after Sanford, who professes to be a Christian, made a secret six-day trip to Argentina to see Chapur, telling aides that if anyone inquired they should say he was hiking the Appalachian Trail.

Amazingly on Tuesday Sanford called Chapur his “soul mate,” which isn’t a step toward healing a 20-year marriage to his wife Jenny. Sanford made the recent trip to see his paramour against the wishes of his wife as well as his “spiritual adviser” Cubby Culbertson.

I’m also flabbergasted that Sanford is clinging to his job as governor. New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer resigned in disgrace last year to salvage his marriage after disclosure that he had been paying prostitutes. His successor David Patterson didn’t resign when affairs were revealed, but he took steps to ensure that his marriage would be a priority. (http://jkennedy.agblogger.org/2008/03/19/early-admission-john-w-kennedy/)

Sanford has all the marks of a sex addict who refuses to give up an adulterous partner at the risk of losing his family. Jenny Sanford has rightly avoided standing silently by his side at press conferences, which would give the impression that she condones his behavior. She has said her priority is seeing that the couple’s four sons recover from this ordeal.

Without wanting to appear judgmental, it’s clear that Sanford is more interested in preserving his power and his adulterous behavior than in saving his marriage. For his marriage to be saved he needs to relinquish sinful selfish behavior.

Meet America at a B&B

My wife and I stayed overnight at a local bed and breakfast over the weekend to celebrate her birthday. In addition to being a romantic getaway, B&Bs are a good place to get out of one’s comfort zone and meet people who have a different worldview.

Sitting at the breakfast table Saturday morning was no exception. We met Drew McManus (http://www.adaptistration.com/?page_id=1783) a music consultant from Chicago visiting Springfield to do some marketing research for the Springfield Symphony. Our conversation centered on some recent work Drew did to help the Arabian Peninsula nation of Qatar establish its first symphony orchestra. The conversation proved to be a fascinating learning experience.

We also talked to Chris Hill, a bicyclist from Arizona who had stopped for a night’s stay en route to Virginia from Oregon on a planned 4,262-mile trip, which he blogs about from his iPhone (http://zomgforeelz.wordpress.com/). He usually stays in a tent — part of the 50 pounds worth of gear he hauls — but he had to detour to Springfield to get his dérailleur fixed. Where else could we sit down and chat with a self-professed atheist on a three-month cross-country bike ride?

As Chris left Springfield on the city’s hottest day of the year, my wife and I packed up for home in our air-conditioned car, enriched that we had chatted with some folks we normally wouldn’t be able to encounter.

Tolerating Distractions

Sometimes I get distracted at our church, which began as a Christian coffeehouse. With such origins, there is a counter at the rear of the room stocked with carafes of coffee. Although there is a designated time in the middle of the service for people to fill their cups, some folks tend to do so during worship or even during the sermon.

I find it distracting, even though the pastor doesn’t seem to mind people getting up from their seats and wandering to the caffeine supply. Perhaps I’m just too old school in believing that church is a formal affair that demands silence most of the time.

As a baby, my dad once started crying in the sanctuary. The minister stopped the service and ordered my grandmother to remove the squawking child from his presence. There wasn’t a lot of tolerance for children expressing themselves in the 1910s.

My dad went on to be a preacher himself for 65 years. Whenever a baby started to fuss and the mother would get up to leave the service, my dad would encourage her to stay in the sanctuary. “I can talk louder than the baby,” he would say. Such informality is a good lesson for me.

The Miracle of Birth

Saturday my wife and I spent 16 hours at a hospital where our daughter-in-law Bethany was in labor, and – after an emergency C-section – gave birth to our first grandchild, Lael Olivia.

Much has changed since my wife Patty gave birth in the 1980s. The birthing rooms are more suitable to making the mother comfortable rather than being convenient for the doctor. Advanced pharmaceuticals can ease much of the pain of difficult labor. My son Josh posted updates on Facebook as the labor progressed. And Lael even had her own Facebook account a few hours after emerging into this world.

Yet over the centuries little has changed in the prelude to being born. We can’t determine when exactly the little person will come out, even if the mother is induced. We can’t hurry the process of dilating the cervix, which can take hours after labor begins. And we can’t foresee the need for an emergency Caesarian section when the baby is too large to come the conventional way.

What a miracle for a 9 pound, 4 ounce baby that has been living in a mother’s womb to suddenly spring to life on her own. Despite medical technology, so many things could go wrong for both mother and child.

When things don’t go according to plan and we are overwhelmed with fear, what a comfort it is to know that ultimately all life comes from God.

I Miss Jay Leno

I didn’t watch him much as host of The Tonight Show the past 17 years, maybe once a month. But I always found him to be topical, amusing and less crude than most late-night comedians. He has a way of poking fun at America and Americans in a way that simultaneously shows what a great and goofy place this is.

I don’t get much of Conan O’Brien’s leisurely paced humor. Much of the time he seems to be saying, “Look at me; I’m really funny.” The first half hour of his debut featured 30 minutes of video sketches and monologue featuring — just him.

Leno, who has been married for 29 years, will be back in September five nights a week at 9 p.m., when I might actually be awake to see him.

Knee-Jerk Reactions

The moment I heard that third-trimester abortionist George Tiller had been killed last week, I knew what would happen afterwards. And, predictably, it has all come to pass.

First, of course, came the accusations from pro-abortion organizations, and then much of the mainstream media, that this could be some sort of right-wing conspiracy to bump off abortion “providers” even though no abortionist has been murdered in this millennia. Pro-life groups quickly condemned the killing, as they should have, and distanced themselves from the lone demented shooter. Rhetoric urging abortionists to be killed has been limited to a handful of discredited fringe individuals.

Nevertheless, the federal government sprang into action, offering to dispatch federal marshals to abortion facilities around the country to ensure that women still have the “right to choose.” On Friday, the Justice Department launched an investigation to see whether the shooter had accomplices.

The media have portrayed Tiller as a heroic figure, bravely doing abortions despite the threat of being hurt or killed. Some reports had women who had abortions at his facility heaping praises upon him. The adulation continued at his funeral Saturday. Somehow they believed that killing a deformed or retarded baby in the womb is merciful.

Certainly Tiller was a rare breed. But it seems silly to portray him as a great humanitarian, when he earned $6,000 for a procedure tthat involves puncturing the baby's skull with scissors then sucking brains out with a suction tube. There are so few people like Tiller around because even most abortionists see something terrible unethical with discarding a viable child into a trashcan.

Snares of Fame

The foibles of living before a television camera have been apparent recently with the disintegration of the marriage of Jon and Kate Gosselin as well as the life of Susan Boyle.

The Gosselins of course made a choice in 2007 to give up any sense of normality when they became the willing subjects of a reality show. Watching preschool sextuplets run around made for great TV, and my 91-year-old mom watches the more than 90 episodes for hours on end. Christian publishers found the Gosselins wholesome and have published two books on the churchgoing family.

However, fame and funds has resulted in a complete lack of privacy. When Jon went out for an ill-advised beer with a younger woman the whole world soon knew about it. A decade into their marriage, the union is on the brink of collapse. Every argument is magnified for the public to consume. While ratings are through the roof, the Gosselins are in a real catch-22. They don’t have income outside their life before the cameras but that reality is causing their marriage to crumble.

The real tragedy is that the children will have video documentation of the demise of their parents’ marriage. Once the cameras finally go away, how will any of these children adjust to life without performing?

Susan Boyle came crashing down much quicker from the harsh glare of television lights. The obscure 48-year-old church volunteer became an overnight Internet sensation after she auditioned on Britain’s Got Talent. Once she advanced in the competition, she transformed her frumpy appearance into a more acceptable look for a TV singer. As the paparazzi hounded her, she let loose with expletives last week and broke down from emotional exhaustion this week. The competition is over and so is the burst of her fame, but not without a heavy price.

Why I Now Like Facebook

In the not so distant past (http://jkennedy.agblogger.org/2009/01/12/facing-up-to-facebook-john-w-kennedy/) I’ve ranted about why I didn’t see the value of Facebook. I’ve changed my mind.

While some of those concerns still hold true (e.g., it causes me to spend too much time on the computer instead of living), since I joined Facebook last month I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

I’ve caught up with old friends, connected with people at church and been able to find out what my sons are doing with their lives. In short, it’s been fulfilling, amusing and interesting. But I’m still not going to bore you with what I ate for breakfast.

The Recession Deepens

Christianity Today International laid off 30 employees last week, or about 25 percent of its workforce. Many of those who lost their jobs had been there throughout the 1990s, when I worked at CT in the Chicago suburbs (I’m now a contributing editor, which is an unpaid position).

The shocking announcement shows how deeply the recession and the Internet have impacted magazine publishing. In conjunction with the layoffs, CTI will stop publishing Today’s Christian Woman, only four months after announcing the demise of three other periodicals — Marriage Partnership, Today’s Christian and Ignite Your Faith (which barely had time to be renamed from Campus Life).

Earlier this month I attended the annual convention of the Evangelical Press Association. The publishing crisis is impacting virtually all Christian magazines: missions, denominational, devotional, general interest. Everyone knows the future is the Internet, but no one has figured out how to make up for the circulation and advertising revenue streams that are dwindling.

To survive, publications clearly will need to pool resources and cooperate in other ways as never before. Meanwhile, I hope the talented writers and editors out of work because of CTI’s across-the-board cuts can stay in the profession somehow.

A Good Christian Is Executed

The State of Missouri executed Dennis James Skillicorn this morning. Sadly this country has lost one of its strongest Christians.

I did magazine interviews with Dennis a couple of times inside Potosi Correctional Facility, and went to see him as a friend a few months ago. I used to be a firm believer in the death penalty. And I still believe it’s a deterrent for the worst crimes such as mass terrorism and political assassinations.

Yet when you’ve visited death rows in various states as I have and interviewed good Christian men such as Dennis who are waiting to be executed, capital punishment becomes more than something to analyze in an abstract manner.

Dennis walked the walk. He filled his day with spiritual activities that sprang from his salvation experience. He helped thousands of men grow spiritually through Bible correspondence courses. He was involved in an interactive family education program designed to reach at-risk children of incarcerated parents.

His exemplary behavior and kind deeds made no difference in the eyes of the state, which executed him for his involvement in the 1994 killing of a telephone company executive whose car had broken down on an interstate.

After his arrest in California, Dennis asked a jailer for a Bible. He became fixated on John 14:16: “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever.”

“God sought me out and delivered me from who I used to be,” Dennis told me when I first interviewed him. “That night in the cell I came to the realization that Jesus had died for me.”

Dennis didn’t suggest he shouldn’t pay for his crime because he had become a Christian. He didn’t claim to be innocent. But he thought a life term would be more appropriate, arguing that he didn’t actually pull the trigger in the killing.

The unfairness of it is what is most troubling about a state putting someone to death. The poor and poorly defended are the ones who most often go to the chair. Mass murderer Charles Manson remains in prison. Presidential candidate assassin Sirhan Sirhan has been up for parole 13 times.

Still, Dennis said God granted him peace about his situation. “I know where I’m going,” he told me. “They can’t take away my salvation no matter what my living conditions. That’s valuable to a man who is confined. Every prisoner can redeem the time. We can still serve through intercession.”

His lifestyle provided evidence that God indeed works through those awaiting being put to death. Dennis became a hospice volunteer and provides palliative care for the terminally ill. He became editor of Compassion, a bimonthly newsletter written and edited by death-row inmates across the country. Proceeds from the publication provide money for scholarships to family members of murder victims.

In addition, Dennis led others to the Lord and discipled them, including his wife, Paula, a former award-winning Kansas City Star reporter who fell in love with him after a series of interviews. Paula wed Dennis in 1997. She may never have surrendered her life to Christ as Savior if another condemned man—her future husband—had been executed earlier.