Man’s Quest

Greece said . . . Be wise, know yourself. Rome said . . . Be strong, discipline yourself. Judaism says . . . Be holy, conform yourself. Epicureanism says . . . Be sensuous, enjoy yourself. Education says . . . Be resourceful, expend yourself. Psychology says . . . Be confident, fulfill yourself. Materialism says . . . Be acquisitive, please yourself. Pride says . . . Be superior, promote yourself.

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Watch Out for Fakes

A friend of mine ate dog food one evening. No, he wasn’t at a fraternity initiation or a hobo party . . . he was actually at an elegant student reception in a physician’s home near Miami. The dog food was served on delicate little crackers with a wedge of imported cheese, bacon chips, an olive, and a sliver of pimiento on top. That’s right, friends and neighbors, it was hors d’oeuvres a la Alpo.

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Resentment

Leo Held was a paragon of respectability. He was a middle-aged, hard-working lab technician who had worked at the same Pennsylvania paper mill for nineteen years. Having been a Boy Scout leader, an affectionate father, a member of the local fire brigade, and a regular church-goer, he was admired as a model in his community. Until . . .

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The Final Priority

Somebody copied the following paraphrase from a well-worn carbon in the billfold of a thirty-year veteran missionary. With her husband, she was on her way to another tour of duty at Khartoum, Sudan. No one seems to know who authored it, but whoever it was captured the essence of the greatest essay on love ever written.

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Man’s Quest

Look across your office desk tomorrow and chances are you’ll be observing a living example of someone still searching, still running to find inner satisfaction. Step out in front of your apartment or home tomorrow morning and look both ways . . . listen to the roar of automobiles . . . study the dwellings surrounding you. Those sights and sounds represent people who have, like Little Bo-Peep’s sheep, “lost their way,” and, tragedy upon tragedy—they don’t know where to find it.

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Watch Out for Fakes

A friend of mine ate dog food one evening. No, he wasn’t at a fraternity initiation or a hobo party . . . he was actually at an elegant student reception in a physician’s home near Miami. The dog food was served on delicate little crackers with a wedge of imported cheese, bacon chips, an olive, and a sliver of pimiento on top. That’s right, friends and neighbors, it was hors d’oeuvres a la Alpo.

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Sitting in the Light

“You do not have to sit outside in the dark. If, however, you want to look at the stars, you will find that darkness is required. The stars neither require it nor demand it” (Annie Dillard). A lot of things in life are like that, aren’t they?

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The Blame Game

Are you old enough to remember comedian Flip Wilson’s old line, “The devil made me do it”? Here was this character who had obviously done something bad. But instead of taking the blame, he pointed an accusing finger at “the devil.” Why did we laugh? We weren’t just laughing at his hilarious routines; we were laughing at ourselves—at one of our favorite indoor games: The Blame Game. And since he is altogether wicked and invisible and unable to challenge our accusation in audible tones, there’s no better scapegoat than old Lucifer himself.

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An Advocate

The Book of Job drips with mystery. The sobs of the man and the silence of his God form a strange combination. From the start, there are surprises and anomalies. Job is portrayed for us as “blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil” (1:1) . . . and yet the bottom drops out of his world. He loses everything except his life and his wife. How strange of God to permit one of His own to become the victim of a devil-inspired plot to reduce him to putty.

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Mercy Is More Than Words

Shocking stories make headlines today with remarkable regularity. A young woman was brutally attacked as she returned to her apartment late one night. She screamed and shrieked as she fought for her life . . . yelling until she was hoarse . . . for thirty minutes . . . as she was beaten and abused. As I heard the story, thirty-eight people watched the half-hour episode in rapt fascination from their windows. Not one so much as walked over to the telephone and called the police. She died that night as thirty-eight witnesses stared in silence.

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