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The Gospel According to the Serpent by Tom Barber ISBN 1-891429-08-6 Religion, 105-pages $9.95 |
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Memories Brought Me Home: Chronicles of a Modern-Day Prodigal Son by Charles C. Herring ISBN 1-891429-28-0 Revised 5th Edition, Religion/Memoir, 187-pages $14.95 |
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The Ringing of the Bell by T Joe Braswell. ISBN 1-891429-55-8 Religion/Memoir, Large Type, 209-pages $12.95 |
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Chapter One: The Early Years Royal Oaks and Whispering Pine Ozarks Country life in Grandpa’s day and time Looking back on these early years, I’m glad and grateful for family who lived by faith, hope and charity (love). It was their great love that protected me. I was from a large family, the sixth of eight children. Great Aunt Susie, who never married, played a big part in all our lives and at age 56, she took me because Mother had her hands full with new twins. I was part of the World War I baby boom, born in 1919. A number of our American soldiers brought back the German flu, and I caught it.1 For over a year, I was carried around on a pillow. There were many prayers of love that I would live, not die. I lived, and this to me is the first major miracle in my life. I lived because of love and care. As I said, when the twins came along, Mother needed help and Aunt Susie came to our family’s rescue. The real early years of my life are very hard to recall. But I remember Aunt Susie!
When twins came along after me Mother needed help, you see. With seven living children growing strong Mother said, “Enough! This life is getting too tough!”
Aunt Susie had already taken three families of kin, thirteen children including my dad, and raised them. And now along came “Little Joe” and at two, I was as big a baby as the twins, Bob and Nan. So in kindness and love, she took me. Aunt Susie and Uncle Billie Huddleston had inherited the homestead farm from their dad, John, a fourth generation American. It was 1921, when I went to live for a time in their big, Southern style, home. Margaret Susan Huddleston, Aunt Susie, was born in 1863, just after the Civil War started. The Huddleston homestead was in the Royal Oak area, an Ozarks community between the small towns of Alton and Thomasville, Missouri.2 Although it was generally quiet, Jayhawker outlaws and raiders roamed the Kansas and Missouri country for over 25 years after the war was supposed to be over, and Aunt Susie told me first hand stories about those days.3 My grandmother had died and so her children were living with her sister Susie and brother Billy. One day a roving band of these Jayhawker outlaws dropped in on Aunt Susie’s homestead around noon. They wanted feed for their horses and food for themselves.
The Jayhawkers The men were in army blue, or was it gray? Well disciplined and taught to obey. Some say they robbed the rich to feed the poor But this day they were at Aunt Susie’s door. Lord, don’t let them hurt the children, she prayed.
Uncle Billy sent the children upstairs And told them all to stay there. With shotgun in hand and pistol in belt Uncle Billy and Aunt Susie were brave they felt. On their faces no sign of fear did they wear.
The bearded leader was a forceful man And he did have his boys well in hand. The sound in his voice was brisk and sharp; Don’t fool with him, or for you they might play a harp! He said, “Howdy neighbor; we’re from no man’s land.”
“We roam this land, helping the poor; Open your hearts so we can do more!” Responded Aunt Susie, “Just stay in the yard. Hitch your horses, boys, and play some cards.” Aunt Susie took over, asking for the help of four.
Out to the chicken yard, to start wringing necks. After each job they had to do, they’d ask “What next?” To them life was a game, these men with a gun. Susie said, “I don’t think your life would be much fun.” “I’m beginning to wonder,” said the one named Rex.
It was a big meal of chicken, potatoes and gravy; Some cornbread, beans, and their eyes grew heavy. But they couldn’t stay, not even for a nap; As they all rode off, to Aunt Susie, Rex tipped his cap. And the family all considered Aunt Susie very brave.
The John Huddleston family and Lemuel Braswell family both migrated from De Kalb County, Tennessee. The Huddlestons settled in Royal Oak, and the Braswells made their home in nearby Couch, Missouri. Two of their children, Thomas Jefferson Braswell and Artimissia (Mishie) Josephine Huddleston, married in 1878. I know very little about their courtship days, but I do know they believed in a good education and good religious training. Not everyone in those days put much importance on education, but Thomas Jefferson, my grandfather, hitchhiked back and forth 140 miles to be educated at Rolla, Missouri, and then he taught school. He was a lawyer, admitted to the bar in 1878, served eight years as County Superintendent, and he spent two terms in the Missouri State Legislature. Raised a Methodist, in his later years Grandpa was a Presbyterian preacher. It was in 1886, at about the age of 23, that Aunt Susie became responsible for raising the five children of Thomas Jefferson Braswell, after his wife Artimissia died. |
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The Ringing of the Bell by T Joe Braswell. ISBN 1-891429-55-8 Religion/Memoir, Large Type, 209-pages $12.95 |
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The Bible provides no clear answer. The Devil is never even mentioned in the Old Testament and Satan, only 18 times, of which 14 occur during his provocative, acrid dialogue with God concerning God’s servant, Job. The New Testament is a little more revealing, referring to Satan and/or the Devil 67 times, 14 times each in the four Gospel accounts. These, along with the Book of Job, suggest that God and Jesus know Satan by name and recognize that he is something more sinister than just the absence of good and much, much more than a malevolent buffoon with a pitchfork who can be ignored. The primary purpose of this work is to expose Satan’s devastating talent for seductive persuasion and to show how he can mix fact and fiction and, with cunning questions and clever reasoning, induce responsible, well-meaning individuals to actions that are not in their best interest. The Gospel According to the Serpent is Satan’s first person account of his participation in the Gospel events and his successful manipulation of the principals responsible for the crucifixion of Jesus. I hope that a collateral benefit may be to remove the mark of black villainy with which the world has, for centuries, branded Judas Iscariot, Caiaphas and the entire Jewish race.
Tom Barber is a scientist by education, a Geologist by profession and a petroleum explorer by occupation. He is a life-long Christian, currently a member and elder of the Presbyterian Church (USA) and previously the Disciples of Christ (Christian) Church. For many years in both denominations he taught High-School, College-age and Adult Sunday school classes. |
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The Gospel According to the Serpent As told to one of his most attentive targets, Trusting Thomas
If all this began with a Big Bang, then where did Evil come from? If God created everything, then where did Satan come from? Is there really a Devil, an active force for Evil, we call Satan?
Questions like these fuel many late-night dorm bull sessions and provoke many on-going broad daylight debates and discussions among seminarians and theologians.
Some attribute Evil (Satan) simply to the absence of good. Others visualize Satan as an evil being with horns and a pointed tail roaming the earth looking for bad little boys and girls to pitchfork into a fiery pit.
The Bible provides no clear answer. The Devil is never even mentioned in the Old Testament and Satan, only 18 times, of which 14 occur during his provocative, acrid dialogue with God concerning God’s servant, Job. The New Testament is a little more revealing, referring to Satan and/or the Devil 67 times, 14 times each in the four Gospel accounts. These, along with the Book of Job, suggest that God and Jesus know Satan by name and recognize that he is something more sinister than just the absence of good and much, much more than a malevolent buffoon with a pitchfork who can be ignored. The primary purpose of this work is to expose Satan’s devastating talent for seductive persuasion and to show how he can mix fact and fiction and, with cunning questions and clever reasoning, induce responsible, well-meaning individuals to actions that are not in their best interest. The Gospel According to the Serpent is Satan’s first person account of his participation in the Gospel events and his successful manipulation of the principals responsible for the crucifixion of Jesus. I hope that a collateral benefit may be to remove the mark of black villainy with which the world has, for centuries, branded Judas Iscariot, Caiaphas and the entire Jewish race.
Tom Barber |
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The Gospel According to the Serpent by Tom Barber ISBN 1-891429-08-6 Religion, 105-pages $9.95 |
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With dreams of retiring from secular work in mind, one summer my wife and I decided to combine a vacation trip to Florida with a search for a retirement area that might suit us—when and if. No commitments were intended; we would just be looking. We found such a place. Besides being beautiful, it offered about any inside or outside recreational activity a retired person could ever want to try. We were very pleased with the salesman who escorted us that day because, as kindred spirits will do, we learned we held common Christian beliefs. Early on our salesman began recommending we buy into that particular park “...if you are truly serious about moving to Florida.” He asked me a pertinent question then, routine I suppose, but it drew a response out of me that surprised and shocked me: “Why do you want to move to Florida?” the question. “Why? I’ll tell you why; I’m fed up with church work!” Oh me, what was I thinking to have said such a thing? I knew, and instantly, I had just set in motion an irreversible upheaval of my life. I’ve often looked back on that day, and it has now become quite clear there had been a ... “grievance” smoldering inside me, just waiting for the right moment to come bursting out. At that time I had known nothing about it. The very idea of my making such a remark about my church relationship, and especially to another Christian, was a mind-blower for me. An awkward silence had followed my surprising answer; I suppose all three of us had been equally shocked by it. I finally stammered, “Wh, what I meant to say is I want to get away from so much church work, maybe do nothing in the church for awhile.” Then I comprehended—and acknowledged—the reason for my answer: I was tired; I was worn out; I was in desperate need of a break. But the sudden “revelation” didn’t help much; I was also embarrassed, which caused a queasiness in my throat. The salesman had not commented on either of my remarks, so I continued with, “Now I have no hard feelings toward my church or anyone there, mind you, it’s just that I’ve reached a saturation point. I am physically and mentally fatigued!” Searching his face carefully, I saw more would need saying to get myself out of the nightmare my mouth had gotten me into. “You can relate to my situation, can’t you? You know how we work hard every day... and come home tired, needing rest? But do we get to rest? No. We head right back out to the church, and to more work. “This happens day after day with me. I’ve done it for years. There’s no end...” The more I talked, the deeper I slipped into the verbal hole I had dug. Finally, after gazing forlornly out over the sandy lot we stood in, I speculated weakly, “Surely, moving to Florida would be good for me.” We continued our park tour, and did talk to one another, but neither mentioned what I’d said about church. And that queasy feeling? Lodged, squarely in the pit of my stomach.
To help explain my shock at what I’d said that day I must share this background information. When 28 years old (some 28 years before that day in Florida) I had responded to another question put to me. It came during a church-service invitation. The preacher had asked the congregation, me being among them, “Are you right with God?” He followed with, “If you know you are not right, will you confess it to Him now by slipping your hand up then back down again?” I had lifted my hand that day, and it began a series of events that would ultimately result in my being wondrously born again. Saved! I will elaborate in a later chapter. Right now I want to emphasize, stress, make clear that my salvation experience had been no passing whim; as the Bible puts it, I had truly become “a new creature.” Immediately after my salvation I became a member of that pastor’s church. I soaked up his, and other’s, Bible teachings like a sponge does liquid. I enjoyed—no, loved—every moment of those early learning days. When I was asked to teach a Sunday School class months later, I’ll just be honest with you, I felt like I could walk on clouds. And never! did I take my teaching job (or any other church-related job) lightly. I tried to make each lesson I taught as interesting and informative as I knew how. Regarding faithfulness to such tasks, I can recall periods in multiple-year blocks in which I did not miss one teaching assignment or church service...; the point I’m trying to make here is my church, and the work I did therein, completely consumed my life from the day I was saved right up to the Florida-trip’s mind-blowing statement. “OK, OK, you’ve made your point,” are you saying? Are you also asking how could such a thing happen to such a dedicated Christian? The answer has already been given: I was overloaded with church-job responsibilities. The recognized term for what that eventually causes is commonly known as burnout. Another “good” question would be: “How did you let yourself get into that predicament?” I’ll answer this one with an illustration:
You’ve heard the formula for how to boil a live frog without his ever knowing it or kicking up a fuss haven’t you? If not, you start out with cold water in the pot. You then insert the frog, and as the water slowly warms froggy will happily float around in it... until boiled. What happened to me (and has and will happen to others) comes about similarly. You give a willing church member an on-going job (the cold water stage). You then slowly add, and add, and add more jobs to that person (the heating up stage). Eventually, without any forewarning, he/she will explode from unrecognized overload (the boiled stage). My case: At the time of our Florida exploratory trip, for my church I was Chairman of the Deacons, was assigned 30 families in a Deacon Family Ministry Program, was a Sunday School teacher, was a choir member, was an alternate-Sundays Church Training leader. Also, I was a regular on church visitation nights, was a member of various standing committees (meetings, meetings, meetings), was frequently asked to fill in here or there for someone who would be absent from their church job, and was often asked to take on special assignments such as being a member of a staff-position search committee. Mind you all those church jobs were in addition to my full-time secular job that had its own set of time-consuming pressures. Folks, the load I was trying to shoulder day after day, week after week was too much for any one person. Is it any wonder I “boiled?” Well, my resultant “boiled” statement to the salesman was not the end of it. As I said earlier, it had put in place a milestone in my Christian life from which no backing up had seemed possible. My life was changed forever by it. Things to that effect happened that very day. Remember I said we had no commitment intentions tied in with our retirement-area search? Listen to this: my wife and I selected and secured (put money down on) a building lot that day. We also signed an agreement with “back-out penalties” to put a house on that lot within a year! Why had we done such an unplanned, unthought-out thing as that? Unfortunately, and unbeknown to me beforehand, I had been ripe, ready, and vulnerable that such should happen. |
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Memories Brought Me Home: Chronicles of a Modern-Day Prodigal Son by Charles C. Herring ISBN 1-891429-28-0 Revised 5th Edition, Religion/Memoir, 187-pages $14.95 |
