ETHEL NUNALLY

The Lord and I were thinking about pride this morning, and Ethel Nunally's name came up.  When I was in third grade, she was our neighbor when our family moved into 805 Poplar in Jonesboro.  And when I left home after college, she still lived next-door.  Mrs. Nunally's house was long and narrow and had been made into two apartments.  She lived in the back.

When I think of Ethel Nunally, I think of a retired widow lady who was tall and slim with pretty white hair that she pulled back into a bun.  Everyday she wore a dress and orthopedic high heels that tied...and she moved at a fast pace wherever she went.  Her long body would lean forward with urgency.  Our kitchen sink looked out onto the side of her house where her concrete stoop had three steps down to the ground.  Many times I can remember standing at the sink and watching her screen door fly open and those orthopedic shoes hit the stairs to go out back to hang out clothes, or walk down the street.  When her husband was living, they ran a small neighborhood grocery and their kids would deliver the orders.  Mrs. Nunally's habit of answering the phone was instinctive from all those years in the store.  If you called over there, instead of saying "hello", she would slowly say "alll...righttt..."  (as if to say, "I have my pencil ready, what can we get you?").  I guess that was the only slow characteristic she had.

The other thing that stands out in my mind about Ethel Nunally was that we got along very well all the years we lived side-by-side.  We borrowed from each other and took her places and visited across the driveway.  But I can remember always just "knowing" that Mrs. Nunally thought our family was going to hell.  (Well of course at that time we WERE, but who knew back then?)  And as I look back, I coped with her assumption by somehow diminishing her in my mind... "Well, bless her heart, she goes to a church where they think everyone's goin' to hell but them.  We love her anyway."  

In other words, I put her down to lift myself up.  That tendency toward feeling superior does come so easily.  I had to ask the Lord to please expunge that from my record.  I don't think He likes it when we exalt anyone but Him.

"For thus says the high and exalted One who lives forever, whose name is Holy.  I dwell on a high and holy place, and also with the contrite and lowly of spirit in order to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite."  Isaiah 57:15

PIRATES  AND PARACHUTES

CEOs are not the only ones getting golden parachutes these days. Did you see this picture of the $3 million dollar pirate ransom floating down?  Who'd have thought in our day and time that we would have pirates?  Arrh!

Long before Johnny Depp applied eyeliner and played a pirate, Barbary pirates were alive and well.  In the 1700's and early 1800's, they preyed on the coast of north Africa from the city-states of Tripoli, Algiers, and Tunis (loosely governed by the Ottoman Empire) and the monarchy of Morocco.  Morocco harbored pirates and furnished markets for their slaves/goods.  These Muslim areas were called the Barbary Coast.

The pirates made a living by attacking trading ships going through the Straits of Gibraltar and along the coastline. They then asked for ransom for the passengers who were enslaved.  Christians were the best catch because they wrote pleading letters home asking for help. The pirates sold the cargo and the captured sailors, who were then put into chains beside an oar in the bowels of a foreign ship.  They also gathered black Africans from along the coastal cities and sold them as slaves.  Older people were of no use to them and were killed.  The women were sold for harems; young men were slave labor.  Children were made eunuchs (and many did not survive the "surgery") and were sold as well. Their belief system taught that they had a right to do anything they wanted to infidels...especially to Christians.

Many of our familiar books depicted these pirates.  Remember Robinson Crusoe, Master and Commander and The Count of Monte Cristo?  It might be harmless fun to read about them, but the reality was that these men answered to no authority and were cruel and ruthless.

In 1783, the United States was no longer under British rule and that was good.  But the bad news was our ships were no longer protected on the seas by the British policy of tribute payments.  So when we were attacked in 1784 and our ship stripped and people were enslaved, our brand new country had no resources to fight.  Against Thomas Jefferson's protest (he was then the ambassador to France and felt tribute only encouraged piracy)...Congress allocated money to pay the tribute.  And that remained the policy for 15 years, although the sum represented 20% of our annual revenue in 1800!

When Jefferson became President in 1801, the Pasha of Tripoli demanded $225,000.  Jefferson refused; the Pasha declared war on the US and his Barbary buddies joined in.  Our navy had been up and running since 1794, so Jefferson sent frigates into the area to seize the Pasha's goods.  When our ships arrived, all the city-states but Tripoli folded. Congress never declared war (the President had not consulted them), but they did fund the effort.  The ships blockaded the Tripoli harbor and there were raids and skirmishes until 1803 when the USS Philadelphia was captured and their crew taken captive.  More fighting.  Then in 1805, the Marines came to the rescue overland with the help of Greek, Arab, and Berber mercenaries.  That action was why we sing in the Marine hymn "to the shores of Tripoli".

It is strange that in the treaty that was signed to end this First Barbary War, we still paid $60,000 for the 300 sailors who had been taken prisoner.  Jefferson felt there was a distinction between ransom and tribute money.  Some felt buying sailors sold into slavery was a reasonable way to end the conflict, but others felt the State Department caved.   Either way, within two years (1807) Algiers began to attack our ships again.  And because we were distracted by the beginnings of our War of 1812, we did not take action until 1815, when the Second Barbary War began.

That war was a quickie...just from March to June of 1815.  We sent ships under the command of veterans from the first war.  They used the pirates' tactics against them as they attacked and took pirate prisoners.  Algeria ended up saying they wouldn't ever attack our ships again, and paid us $10,000 to get their people back.  Everything was signed and we left and then they decided "kings X...just kidding".  So we had a nine hour bombardment of their harbor and they changed their minds BACK and even threw in a promise not to capture Christians anymore.

When I read all this stuff I wonder how in the world fact has flipflopped into fiction.  How did this part of the world become seemingly mysterious and charming...even romantic?  Pirates were murderous thugs!  I guess movies like "Casablanca" and "Pirates of the Caribbean" helped promote that idea.  And of course, Disney has the multi-billion (with a B) dollar pirate theme park ride that kids love.  The enemy sure pulled a fast one as the pirates of the Barbary Coast were glamorized.

"Deliver us from evil" Matthew 6:13

GETTING OLDER
Hmmm...getting older is so strange. The age that registers in your brain in no way matches what's going on with the rest of you. And you have out-of-body experiences! It's like you are outside yourself watching as you do things you used to snicker at your parents for doing. Payback! Now you are the puppet and Father Time jerks your string.

Take, for instance, when something is coming up on the schedule for the next day. That's a guaranteed partial night's sleep. Or consider how laughing/sneezing/coughing could seem harmless, but might be the "easy button" for clearing out the underwear drawer. What a dignity thief! And how about when you look down the grocery aisle for one of your friends...and you realize that you are only looking for dark-headed people? Or when the Prize Patrol doesn't show up with balloons and a big check, but your prize is either a crepe-y chin...double chin...or crepe-y double chin. And don't forget the jolt as you pass the mirror and see a deceased relative.

But my all-time favorite opportunity for humility associated with aging is when you are talking to your daughter and out of the blue she remarks: "Mom, are you aware that you did not finish that last sentence?"

"General indignities" used to be one of the boxes you checked for divorce filings. Certainly aging is an indignity, but I'm not headed down to the courthouse to file just yet.

"We are citizens of the homeland which is in heaven, and from it also we earnestly and patiently await the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform and fashion anew the body of our humiliation to conform to and be like the body of His glory and majesty, by exerting that power which enables Him even to subject everything to Himself." Philippians 3:20,21