Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Carson is the guardian of the old way. He is, by far, the most conservative member of the entire household and staff. He loves the aristocracy more than the aristocrats do. The dowager countess is more progressive than he is --for instance, she has far kinder things to say about the chauffeur-turned-son-in-law Branson than Mr. Carson does! He was mortified when he was threatened with blackmail by an old acquaintance who threatened to reveal his dark past --as a vaudeville hoofer. Horror of horrors. Upon its discovery, he offered his resignation. The Earl laughed.
I sometimes wonder if I am one born out of due time, though God's will admits of no mistakes. Why am I thinking about this? All the preachers I love and resonate with are retiring or have retired. There are only about 5 or 6 singers or acts whose concerts I would attend --and most of them are dead or retired. The people of the past --be it political figures or celebrities or pastors or whatever-- hold far more fascination for me than those of the present. Harry Truman and Ike, for instance, may have appeared rather bland and bloodless, but they are endlessly more fascinating than any one of either party in DC today. At least to me.
Life as an anachronism is not a comfortable thing. After all, I'm 41. A lot of life left to go. I do not like change. Like Carson, it rankles me. I even preach like an anachronism, despite my best efforts not to. A younger aspiring preacher (very bright and gifted in my estimation) said to me "I cannot preach like you." I told him "I think your gifts are more suited to today, and mine to yesterday." Alas, God's will admits of no mistakes.
I am not sure what lesson to draw from all this. I know I have not blogged a lot of late --like Harper Lee, perhaps I just ran out of things to say. But, for whatever reason, I felt compelled to say this.