"I'm so very, ordinary / Nothing special, on my own. Oh I, have never / Walked on water. And I have never / Calmed a storm."

So begins Nicole C. Mullen's inspirational song, "Call on Jesus." The reason that track comes to mind is because as I quickly head toward my 47th birthday I see how few of my youthful ambitions have come to fruition. No, I'm not dead yet, but the Fahrner genes are such that I am likely significantly past the half-way mark of my time here on earth.

I don't know about you, but growing up I really thought I could do anything I wanted to. (Isn't that what we still teach children...that they can be whatever they want to be?) For that matter, as a youngster I planned on securing the ultimate American job—President of the United States—even figuring out the earliest I could run based on the minimum age of 36. (I guess I should have given George W. Bush and Al Gore a run for their money in 2000...might have prevented a bunch of hanging chads.)

Mount Cardigan in Orange, New Hampshire isn't terribly tall, peaking at 3,121 feet. Additionally, the main trail is a short hike of 1.3 miles. However, a good portion of it has a sharp inclination, especially as the trees thin and the granite becomes prolific. It was perhaps three quarters of the way up the mountain last Saturday that I realized something...but hold that thought.

Let's first let's talk a little about Baljeet's experience at rock (as in music) camp. Reacting to a Banshee-type screech they (and others) heard, Phineas and Ferb searched out the source and discovered it was their Indian friend Baljeet doing a "fail wail" because he feared he would flunk "Summer Rocks" (which he mistakenly signed-up for thinking it was a geography class).

Heading into town today to fix a friend's laptop, I was partway down Elm Avenue when I noticed one of our neighbors had a large old firetruck parked off to the left. I commented to Michelle that it was kind of cool, and she replied that it had been there quite a while. Now, it's not like that sizable truck was right next to the road, but it was still a bit embarrassing, considering how often I have gone past it in my car (and on my bicycle). Clearly, whatever I've had on my mind the last six months (or longer) has made the fire engine invisible to me.

A little earlier this year Rob Bell, the popular founding pastor of Mars Hill in Grandville, Michigan, set off a bit of a web explosion by releasing a video trailer promoting his soon-to-be-released (at that time) book, Love Wins. The video didn't specifically say anything heretical, but it implied quite a bit in its questions and statements. For instance:

"Will only a few select people make it to heaven? And will billions and billions of people burn forever in hell?"

"......and so what gets subtly sort of caught and taught is that Jesus rescues you from God. But what kind of God is that that we would need to be rescued from this God? How could that God ever be good? How could that God ever be trusted? And how that ever be good news?"

"What you discover in the Bible is so surprising, unexpected and beautiful that whatever we've been told or taught the good news is actually better than that. Better than we can ever imagine. The good news is that love wins."¹

Even in those few, separate quotes you can sense some fundamental orthodox Christian doctrines being questioned. The blogosphere rightly questioned whether his new manuscript was going to promote universalism, pluralism, and a lack of an eternal punishment (i.e. hell). The response was quick and harsh, as was the counter-reaction. One side immediately called Bell a heretic, the other side, just as judgmentally, condemned people for speaking up before the book was even on store shelves.

Younger readers probably won't appreciate how when (growing up) I really would have liked a pair of the x-ray glasses that were advertised in various comic books. Now, I wasn't gullible enough to actually think they worked, but what a cool idea! Or even better, how about having Superman's x-ray vision? I think not being able to see through lead is a small limitation, especially since lead would also protect me against kryptonite!

Or how about the Gilligan's Island episode, "Pass the Vegetables, Please," where a box of radioactive seeds washed up on the shore? After the stranded islanders planted them, they grew quickly, and the castaways each ate different vegetables. Mary Ann consumed some carrots and was given incredible eyesight (because you know, carrots are good for your eyes).

Now for a harsh segue...

A couple weeks back you may have also cringed when you heard, on national news, that a New Hampshire state senator suggested we ship the mentally ill to Siberia to die. I cannot remember if the story stated his party affiliation, but even if it didn't I would have assumed he was Republican and figured that the politician was an embarrassing fringe element (every cause has at least one).

You can imagine what happened after the activist he was speaking with hung up and shared the inflammatory information with others...boom! If you search Google for the Senator's name and "Siberia" (with the his name in quotes) you'll likely get more than the 33,300 results that I just did. Add to that the fact that many sites (including news ones) allow open comments, and the result is scores of reactions that I could never share in a church bulletin (not that they ever should be printed anywhere). On the surface it seems to serve him right—he said something extremely insensitive (downright stupid) and he deserved a good metaphoric slapping.

Then I met Marty.