Character Does Matter

Roots in Ripon
11 January 2016
Chuck Roots
www.chuckroots.com

Character Does Matter

          It’s hard to not be aware that we are in an election year. The main stream media (MSM) is covering the various assortment of candidates in the same manner as vultures circling the rotting carcasses of dead and dying buffalo on the open plain. “What juicy little morsel might we find on this one, eh?” The scrutiny, also known as vetting, is in full swing and everyone is fair game with one caveat – If the MSM likes you and you are in step with their philosophical and political points of view, then you are declared sacrosanct.

          Some time back, probably three or four years, I wrote an article on the importance of character in our elected officials. I would like to revisit this topic in this article.

          You might recall the brouhaha during the 1992 presidential race involving the sordid affairs of one Bill Clinton. As the news reporters uncovered one woman after another who claimed to have had a relationship with Clinton, or was otherwise seduced by him, such degeneracy filled our TV screens nightly. It got to the point where the Democrat Party had to do something to tone this story down because their candidate, Bill Clinton, was looking bad. Two things happened: First, there was a pre-arranged interview with Bill & Hillary Clinton in which Hillary famously said to the interviewer who was pressing the matter of Bill’s blatant infidelities, “If it doesn’t bother me, why should it bother you?” That question-cum-challenge shut the door on further questioning. Had I been the interviewer I would not have let that go. Regardless of what you may think the state of the Clinton’s marriage in, no woman ever wants to be shamed by her husband’s indiscretions with other women. And certainly not on the international world stage which the MSM plays on.

Second, all the sycophants of the Democrat Party drank the cool-aid, parroting the new philosophy that what a person does in private doesn’t really matter and has no direct effect on their ability to govern. The new catch phrase being spoken by the leaders of the Democrat Party, pundits, and even the MSM became a mantra intoned by all – “Character doesn’t matter.” That was a stunner.

This was troubling for many reasons, but the primary reason it left many of us unsettled had to do with national security. A president who was dishonoring his marriage vows was to be considered a reprobate. Further, if he could be enticed to enter into a sexual liaison, then he was subject to blackmail by our nation’s enemies. He compromises his position of authority which has been entrusted to him by “We the People.” Add to that the matter that the president has the obligation through his office to protect the American people, and we’ve got a major problem.

As I was growing up it was strongly impressed upon us as kids that character was everything. If you lacked character then you were not a person to be trusted. I remember my folks saying things like, “Don’t ever lie to me, because if you do, then I’ll never know if you are speaking the truth.” Or this one, “When you give someone your word, you are bound to it and must keep your word.” Teachers in school taught these same values. These values were even put in front of us through radio and television. But virtue and morality in the film industry all began to crumble with the advent of the Film Rating System in 1968.

The Bible has much to say about a person’s character. The most notorious person mentioned in the Bible would be the man who intentionally betrayed Jesus, willingly turning him over to the authorities to be crucified. His name, of course, is Judas. Judas Iscariot. His lack of true character set in motion the arrest, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus. All for 30 pieces of silver! In today’s currency that’s about $500.00.

Unsavory characters are replete in the Bible. It is the result of the human condition known as a “sinful nature.” Jesus willingly went to the cross in order to offer you and me a new opportunity at life. A degraded or degenerate person can become a new person with an entirely new character once they’ve had a personal encounter with Jesus. Our sin nature is transformed by the cleansing power of the blood of Jesus.

Personally, I want elected officials and national leaders to be men and women of the highest character. We as Americans should accept nothing less. And for those in office (way too many, I fear) who have sacrificed their character on the altar of political correctness, and/or for the lust of power, then it’s time to send them packing!

 Might God grant us another stellar person of godly character like our founding father, George Washington? I would pray that it was so.

Love of Family

Roots in Ripon

4 January 2016

Chuck Roots

www.chuckroots.com

Love of Family

          Now that I’ve taken a couple of weeks off from writing Roots in Ripon, and with a New Year upon us, it’s time to get back to my weekly column. As you already know, or have surmised, my column, Roots in Ripon, is no longer being carried in the Ripon Record because the newspaper has closed shop.

          The timing was excellent since my reprise from writing came just before Christmas. It allowed me to focus on spending lots of time with family. It began with my brother, John, flying out to spend time with the West Coast Roots clan. He was here about ten days, so, with very cooperative weather, we managed to spend a lot of time on the golf course. Truth be told, we are both “golf junkies.” We played at my home course, Spring Creek, but we also were invited by our friend, Hank Harris, to play at his course in Turlock. We also got a round in at Ruby Hill which was recommended by the pro at Spring Creek. But the best round of the time John was here was the day he was flying home, leaving from San Jose. We made reservations at Wente Vineyards golf course in Livermore. Perfectly clear sunny day! The course was in terrific shape and we had a blast. We ended our time there by having dinner at the Wente Vineyards Restaurant.

          Golf aside, we enjoyed numerous gatherings with our girls and their families while John was here. We were all in a festive mood, having celebrated granddaughter Alyssa’s 8^th birthday on Thanksgiving with all the family gathered in our home, followed by Isaura’s birthday on December 6, and then John’s 72^nd birthday on December 13^th.

          Alyssa has been taking piano lessons for the past couple of years from Barbara Mohler. So to our surprise, our precocious little pianist had the hutzpah to ask the pastor is she could play Silent Night in the Christmas Eve service. He readily agreed.

          The church was full that night for the Christmas Eve service. Our aspiring piano prodigy seemed quite relaxed during the evening’s service. I was wondering if she’d get too nervous and bail out. I glanced over at her several times, but I saw nothing to cause me concern. The service had her playing Silent Night as the last song of the service which included the congregation participating in a candlelight ceremony singing all three verses.

          Alyssa sat on the piano bench and waited as the pastor finished his remarks about lighting the candles. Then she began playing without missing a note with robust voices from the congregation accompanying her. The candles were being lit throughout and then everyone stood to sing the final verse, but Alyssa never missed a beat or a note. You have no doubt figured out that I’m very proud of her.

          The best part in all of this is a note I discovered hanging from our refrigerator last week after Christmas. It was written on a sheet of paper from those note pads folks keep in their kitchens by the phone. The handwriting was clearly Alyssa’s. This is what it said: “Hello! My name is Alyssa! I love my family.”

          Well now, I’m an admitted softy – a veritable sentimentalist, if you will. That’s just my temperament. I teared up right away when I read this note, which then causes my throat to swell so that speech is impossible. There is no gift under heaven that could even begin to match this note, especially at Christmas time.

          Once again I am learning what it means to be blessed. I am surrounded by people who mean the world to me, whom I love intensely, and who love me in return. Such love enables me to better understand God’s love for me as it was gloriously demonstrated through his Son, Jesus. And for that I am eternally grateful.

          Thank you, Lord. You have blessed me beyond measure.

Remembering Pearl Harbor

Relaxing ashore in one of the many bungalows not far from the nested ships of the United States Navy at Pearl Harbor, sailors on this Sunday morning were luxuriating in the warm tropical environs of a paradise that would soon turn into a killing field. Planes were heard flying along the island coastline, raising little interest in the minds of the sailors who were enjoying liberty ashore.

This story was told to me about ten years ago by a couple of Pearl Harbor Survivor veterans when I was asked to speak to their group. They continued to recount the events of that day.

The planes flying by the bungalows along the beach sure looked like Jap Zeroes! But, then again, these sailors had seen the Marines paint their planes to look like the Zeroes with the big red “Meatball” on the sides of the fuselage and wings. And after all, Sunday was often just another day of the week when it came to military training. Yet it was a bit unnerving to see these planes looking so much like Japanese bombers. Standing on the bungalow’s lanai the sailors could clearly see the pilots of the aircraft, and, dang! they sure looked like Japanese! Waves of aircraft were filling the skies now, flying by, heading directly for the ships berthed at Pearl. In a matter of minutes the thunderous sounds of detonating bombs captured everyone’s attention. Alarm bells exploded in their heads. In their haste to throw on their uniforms and scramble into the car some of the men forgot their wallets containing their ID Cards. At this point, returning to base was paramount!

Pressing the accelerator of the car as far as they dared, they rolled up to the gate practically skidding to a stop for the sentry. The Marine guard, holding his M1 Garand, was unwilling to allow these sailors to pass without their IDs. And you can hardly blame the Marine. At this point he didn’t know who to trust. The sailors attempted to explain the haste which they were in, needing to return to their ships. It was obvious to all of them that something awful was happening down at the harbor. The Marine seemed unsure, recognizing that a crisis was brewing, yet wanting to obey his orders in not allowing any unlawful personnel to pass. Finally, exasperated, the sailor driving the car announced to the flummoxed Marine that they were going to drive onto the base and return to their ship. So if he was going to shoot them, then start shooting!

The car shot forward aiming for the harbor. No one dared to look back to see if the Marine was drawing a bead on them with his M1. The Marine stood with his rifle raised but did not fire. What they found when they arrived at the dock where their ship was tied up was utter devastation. Their ship was already sitting on the bottom of the harbor. Thus, World War Two began for the United States of America.

Another friend recalled this same event from a different perspective. Isaura and I met this elderly couple while I was stationed as a Navy chaplain from 1984-85 at Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton in Southern California. George and Mamie Tintori had long been regular attenders of the Mainside Chapel on the base. We soon developed a lasting friendship and spent many enjoyable times together. They became surrogate grandparents for our girls, Laura (5) and Jenny (2). What a wonderful godly couple they were! They were loosed from their earthly bonds quite some years ago.

But one story they shared was their indirect connection with Pearl Harbor. George had enlisted in the Navy in 1922. Working his way up through the ranks, he became a warrant officer, and later, a commissioned officer, retiring as a Lieutenant Commander. He was given orders to report to a destroyer, home based at the naval station in San Francisco. They were living in a hotel in the city while waiting for base housing to open up. So George says to Mamie one morning that his ship was going out on maneuvers for the weekend, but that he’d be back late Sunday and that she should plan to join him for dinner Sunday night. Well, it just so happened that the Sunday George was out to sea was December 7, 1941, “A day that will live in infamy,” as President Franklin D. Roosevelt so eloquently stated. What is often forgotten is that Germany declared war on the United States the next day.

The next time Mamie saw George was four years later when the war mercifully ended.

America was hit hard at Pearl Harbor. Our military was at a dangerously low number having been downsized by Congress following World War One. What emerged from the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor was a resolve by a unified nation to not only strike back at an enemy that had attacked us without provocation, but to reduce that nation and their people to the point where they could not hurt anyone again for a very long time. The same attitude was aimed at Germany.

The Greatest Generation rose to the occasion and successfully defeated two daunting enemies, once again securing our freedom and liberties.

I fear our current generation might be called on to engage in a global war against Muslim radicals and their despotic followers. As our fathers and grandfathers did in WWII, this generation will undoubtedly step up and win the day for America and all freedom loving peoples throughout the world, crushing those who would seek to destroy us.

God bless America!

With the closure of the Ripon Record this month, my column, Roots in Ripon, will still be available on the Internet. If you would like to receive my weekly column, please send an email to Roots66@verizon.net and I will send my articles to you as an email attachment. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this column for the Ripon Record the past 13 years. Hope to reconnect with you by email! Blessings! Chuck Roots

Go Niners! Please?

When it comes to football, I follow the trials and tribulations of two NFL (National Football League) teams. Those two teams are: the New England Patriots of the AFC (American Football Conference) East; and the San Francisco 49ers of the NFC (National Football Conference) West.

At this point in the season, these two teams could hardly be more different. The Patriots are the reigning Super Bowl Champions, and they are undefeated this year with a 10-0 record. The 49ers, on the other hand, are a weak sister by comparison. They are posting a dismal record of 3-7 with a weak team that is in desperate need of a few wins just to put a good face on the season.

There is a very good and logical reason why I am a fan for two teams. First, both teams play in different conferences. Second, I was born and raised in New England, yet I’ve been living in California since the beginning of my senior year in high school, 1965. Third, I was impressed by the loyalty to the 49ers by my brothers-in-law, Tony and Joe, have been die-hard 49er fans since the 1970s when the Niners were the 98 pound weakling in the NFL.

The last football game I can remember attending was in 1971. I was in the Marines and home on leave for Christmas. I stopped by the Oakland Marine Corps Recruiting Office to say hi to my recruiter. I do not remember his name, but he was a Gunnery Sergeant. We chatted for a while, at which point he asked me what I was doing the coming Sunday. I said I’d probably be hanging out at my parent’s home in Alameda enjoying home-cooking and watching a football game or two with my step father. He said he needed another Marine to fill out a four-man colors detail for an Oakland Raiders game. I jumped on the opportunity immediately! I looked forward to this because I would be wearing my Marine uniform at an NFL game marching with three other Marines while presenting the colors (American flag and California State flag). I was to be one of the rifle bearers. There are two who flanked the two flag bearers. In carrying the rifle you are to present the manual of arms which every Marine is drilled in during boot camp. It was great fun! I got to see the game for free standing on the sidelines, and to see players who are icons of the sport: Daryle Lamonica, George Blanda, Fred Biletnikoff, Willie Brown, Ben Davidson, Gus and Jim Otto (not related), Art Shell, Ken Stabler, Gene Upshaw, Phil Villapiano, and Carl Weathers. You may know Carl Weathers better as the actor who played Apollo Creed in the movie series, Rocky. A career-ending injury caused him to look elsewhere to make a living. Good choice going to Hollywood!

My brother-in-law, Tony, was here for Thanksgiving and asked me if I’d be interested in attending the 49ers-Cardinals game on Sunday. Would I? You bet! So it’s off to the new Levi Stadium in Santa Clara tomorrow morning. It’s only been 44 years since I attended my last NFL game! If I wait another 44 years before going again I’ll be 111. I’m thinking that’s not going to work!

The happy crew that is going to the game besides me are: brothers-in-law Tony and Joe Cabral, daughter and son-in-law Jenny & Josh Sousa, and nephews Cameron and Matthew Cabral.

As much as I’d like to be optimistic about the chances of the Niners pulling out a win tomorrow, that’s simply not going to happen. The Arizona Cardinals are 8-2, winning their last seven games. One TV sports commentator made this remark when asked if the 49ers could pull off the upset. He just laughed! Eventually he said, “I suppose they could have a chance. Instead of winning by six touchdowns, the Cardinals will only win by four touchdowns. Sigh! Yet hope springs eternal.

In accepting going to the game I realized I would most likely not see the New England Patriots play on Sunday Night Football against the Denver Broncos. Well, at least I can record it and watch it when I get home Sunday night. Sure am looking forward to the Patriots extending their undefeated streak.

Even though a win by the Niners tomorrow is remote at best, I have always enjoyed rooting for the underdog. So, GO NINERS!

The French? Really!

The Islamic terrorists who launched the deadly attacks in Paris last weekend are evil. There’s no other way to state it. These degenerates are evil personified.

The utter disregard they have for human life is breath-taking. Even more astonishing is one of the terrorists was a woman, who, when she realized she was about to be captured by the French police, detonated a bomb vest she was wearing. Unfortunately, a bomb-sniffing dog was killed in the blast.

This whole calamity has produced some strange bed-fellows. For instance, the Russians have “sent a puppy to France in tribute to the French dog, Diesel, who was killed in an anti-terrorism raid after the Paris attacks,” Sky News reported Saturday. “Diesel’s death prompted an outpouring of grief, and Russia hopes the puppy, named Dobrynya, fills the void.” Nice gesture by the Russians, who, by the way, have their own bone to pick with Muslim terrorists going back a long way in their history.

In a New York Post article, November 22, written by Amir Taheri, entitled, “ISIS is inherently cowardly – to defeat it, hit it hard.” A couple of weeks ago I wrote an article about the difficulties the United States has had with Muslim terrorists since before we became a nation. It was not until President Thomas Jefferson said, “Enough!” that we were finally rid of Muslim pirates harassing our ships in the Mediterranean. Jefferson sent Marines by way of Navy ships to deal with these characters who were doing then the same things they are doing today – raping, pillaging, enslaving, forced conversion to Islam, beheadings, stoning’s, and the requirement to pay tribute money to Muslim leaders, and so on. After the Marines did what Marines do, we had no problems with these Muslim terrorists for many years. The one thing these reprobates seem to understand and respect is a good punch in the nose. At least until a new generation of Muslim radicals starts to feel their oats.

Here’s the irony in all of this war on terrorism. Of all people, the French, under the leadership of President François Hollande, is taking the initiative and going after the ISIS stronghold in Syria. French bombers are delivering the payloads on ISIS targets! The Russians have already done so, and may well do so again following the Paris attacks. The U.S. is slowly catching up under the leadership of a president who leads from behind. “After the horrific terror attacks in Paris, French President François Hollande is talking a lot about a “strategy” to deal with the threat posed by ISIS, one he hopes to sell to President Obama and his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin within the next week or so.”

Perhaps I should explain why I find this action by the French to be so rich. It has always been the United States who steps in and fills the gap when any Western nation is threatened. Case in point: England and Great Britain twice in the last century. France in particular was completely overrun by the Germans in both WWI and WWII. Had it not been for the leadership, grit and determination of the U.S. military, the French would be speaking German today. But today we find the current administration is reticent to commit to any aggressive military action, particularly against any Muslim group. Instead, Hollande of France, and Putin of Russia are embarrassing the United States with their quick and aggressive action against ISIS.

Taheri writes, “Twenty years and so many atrocities later, in more than 30 countries on every continent, it is perhaps time for France and the European Union to persuade the UN to provide the international framework needed to combat terrorism based on the principle that one man’s terrorist is every man’s terrorist.” Ah, would that could be realized! But, Alas! I fear our current administration simply does not have the stomach for such a fight even though we may well be inviting Muslim terrorists into the United States through Syrian refugees. If this happens, we can expect to see the same sorts of violence and attacks currently experienced by Europe. And it is laughable to think for a moment that the United Nations (an organization of self-satisfied pomposity if ever there was one!) can be persuaded to do anything that would help protect member nations.

So I say good for the French for going after these terrorist creeps. Who knows – the United States may need to call on the French as we did more than 200 years ago when we were up against it in the revolutionary war with Britain. Is there another Jean Lafitte who would help us defeat the enemy within our borders?

America has always stood up to the world’s bullies, standing alone at times when no other nation would venture into the fray. I pray this administration discovers its steely resolve to defend and protect the Constitution and the American people.

This Thanksgiving be sure to thank God for the blessings, rights, privileges and liberty we still enjoy as Americans. And say a special prayer for our military which secures these unique benefits.

God bless America.

A Bright Future

Recently I have been called upon for pastoral duties associated with friends and church members who have been loosed from their earthly bonds and are now celebrating in the joy, comfort and presence of Jesus.

When you know Jesus as your Lord and Savior there is indeed a bright future which awaits you. Two dear friends from church in the past few weeks have left us, both having reached 80 plus years. Maybe because I find myself in the shadow of 70 I’m realizing that the conversations I have with friends invariably get around to lengthy discussions about our respective health conditions. Truth be told, I feel great and am as active as ever – just not as quick as I once was.

But the conversation seems to always work its way around to health problems. Now, I’m okay with that, really. It’s just that I don’t want that to be the only topic covered. I vainly attempt to discuss sports in an effort to steer the subject away from death and dying. “Are the 49ers going to get rid of Kaepernick?” or “How about Sports Illustrated considering PGA golfer Jordan Speith as Sportsman of the Year?” or “Yeah, baby! The Patriots are 9 and 0!” or “The Warriors’ Steph Curry is on fire!”

Perhaps as we get older these illnesses and physical setbacks are a constant reminder of our looming mortality. Sooner or later we will shed this body of clay and be laid to rest in one manner or another – be it a coffin in the ground, or a mausoleum, or ashes scattered somewhere over the flora and fauna. It is not possible to escape such a final act in life’s perpetually progressing drama marching steadily toward the moment when the heart stops and the last breath is expelled from this tired, worn-out body.

One of my grandmothers lived to be 94. My mother was three months shy of 99 when she passed away last year. Neither of these ladies considered themselves to be old, nor did they enjoy being around “old people.” We all laughed at this, but as I think back on it I’m inclined to believe they were more interested in life and the things that were going on around them than they were sitting over a cup of tea chatting about theit aches, pains and operations which they had experienced.

Which all brings me to this question: Why do we seem to be obsessed with death and dying? I know that after having eight stents put in the arteries of my heart seven years ago, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer more than four years ago, I’m much more mindful of, and grateful for, each day.

The Bible says that God has placed eternity in the heart of every single person. Simply put, part of our make-up as people, our programming, if you will, gears us toward reflecting on our own existence and the significance of it in the light of eternity. Where do I fit in? Is there really more to life than the 70 or 80 years ascribed to us as mentioned by King David?

So if the concept of eternity has been embedded in my DNA by God himself, it would only make sense that I should want to find out where this all leads. Am I, in fact, an eternal being? Will I live forever? If so, where? And so, the questions arise.

At this point it is important to remember that Adam and Eve, our first earthly parents, were perfect and fully prepared to live on this earth in its pristine condition. But then came the choice to reject this perfect eternity by desiring to sin against God. Thus we were launched into a careening path of debauchery, destruction and death. All of this separated us from God. But he had an antidote for the sin problem. The name of this antidote is JESUS. He’s the one who rescues us from sin by having paid the price for our sin. When we accept him as our Savior, we are promised a new relationship with God through Jesus which leads us ultimately to Heaven where God awaits.

While sharing recently at a friend’s funeral service, I made it very clear that because Jesus had died and then raised himself from the dead, I was paying attention to whatever he had to say. You see, I figure if someone has the power to raise themself from the dead, they have my full, undivided attention! And because I have been walking with Jesus for 43 years my desire is now, and always will be, to be wherever Jesus is.

So, as I say farewell to my departing friends, and when called upon, officiate at their funeral services, I can’t help but be constantly reminded that one day I, too, will be leaving my earthly home for a far better place and a brighter future in Heaven.

I do hope that I will see you there!