When The Reverend Billy Graham Faced Angry Witch Doctors

Talk about a clash of cultures!

Back when your Strange World blogger was a newly minted infant just home from the hospital, American evangelist and ambassador of fundamentalist Christianity Billy Graham flew to Africa for a campaign.

In late February 1960  the Associated Press reported that "native medicine men have been parading around outside the meeting in their weird costumes, muttering incantations."

Then, several days later, it happened. According to a United Press International story, three "witch doctors" who were, it was assumed, attempting to "fix a curse" on Graham walked up to the speaker's platform.

This occurred after the meeting as the crowd was exiting. The committee of  "Jaluo witch doctors" was led by 90-year-old Okelo Onoko, who smoked the traditional conjure pipe.

But the Reverend Graham approached the committee, looking them squarely in the eye, and declared: "God loves you and Christ died on the cross for you." This was accomplished by a translator.

Of course we know that Graham continued a thriving worldwide evangelistic ministry for decades and is alive today at the ripe old age of 97.

So much for Jaluo folk magic, I suppose.

Then too, it doesn't escape me that this incident was perhaps a media creation (or least embellishment), which thought occurred to me after reading Life magazine's coverage of Graham's African tour in its March 21, 1960 issue.

Therein we are treated to large a photo of Graham and a "witch doctor," with a caption that reads:
"In Kenya, Graham touched the Calabash pipe of a "witch doctor" who turned out to be a phony, part of gag done by local journalists."

Okay, so it seems safe to assume that journalists covered this story with, to say the least, a lighthearted attitude. Such culture clashes can have humorous aspects.

In my mature years now I tend to think the idea that the Great Spirit sends missionaries to other cultures in order to set them straight spiritually is wrongheaded.

 My thought is that nature itself presents a divine message that interacts with the seed of divine awareness planted in each of us at birth. This work has brought about uncountable expressions of spiritual belief, but none without its charm and interest.

All part of this strange world I find so fascinating.

Sorry, Right Number!

Didja ever see the old suspense movie Sorry, Wrong Number? The incomparable Barbara Stanwyck plays a bedridden woman who serendipitously overhears on her telephone two men plotting a woman's murder. The movie revolves around Stanwyck's character trying to prevent the murder but there are, of course, plot twists and surprises which I won't give away here. Watch the movie or do a Google search if you want the details (best to see the movie, however).

But how about a real wrong number cases that turns into something of miracle in its own right. The story was reported in the Christmas 1966 edition of  the St. Joseph News-Press. It is available to read online via the Google news archive. Let me relate the details now.

It seems that Elizabeth Drake was at home on a Friday evening craving ice cream. So much so in fact that she was moved to call the information operator in order to obtain the phone number of a local ice cream parlor.

With said number in hand Drake made the call. The phone rang and rang and she was just about to hang up when a woman in weakened voiced answered the phone pleading for help.

Quick-thinking Drake immediately laid down the phone and went next door to a neighbor to call the police. The police were able to trace the phone call to an elderly lady, a Ms. Friedman, who was found unconscious after having suffered a stroke. At the time story was printed Ms. Friedman was in the hospital, still alive, and in fair condition.

Some people feel there are no accidents in life. How amazing is it that an ice cream craving directly leads to a life-saving rescue?

Perhaps you're thinking it was luck. The newspaper went on to report how a police Sgt. Kishman pointed out a "strange thing" about this case in that the numbers of the ice cream parlor and woman's apartment were not similar in any way, not even having the same prefix.

My personal worldview makes room for these amazing "accidents." In fact, my worldview is that life itself is not an accident or happy coincidence. I believe in purpose and direction.

One King-Sized Case Of Hives, Coming Right Up

I for some time have been quite interested in New Thought. I can't say I buy into all of it, but dang it, I have to believe that how we think about things has a lot to do with how things go for us. Upfront I admit that some of the New Thought emphasis on "think your way to riches" is a turn off. I think riches are often a snare. Moreover, being "rich" is a relative thing. Compared to most of the world, in my leanest times I was rich! Money can't buy happiness, so I'll settle for having enough to be content. (And it doesn't take much to make me happy).

But I'm saying I do believe in the placebo effect, nocebo effect and psychosomatic illness. The subject of this post, in fact, is an incident that took place during my eleventh year in, which I proved to myself for all time that the mind can conjure illness.

It happened in this way. For some reason (time has faded my memory somewhat here) my best friend Jimmy and I had a rather severe falling out. I don't remember the details but do clearly remember that he had promised over the telephone to beat me up the next day at school.

It wasn't the prospect of a "butt whooping" that troubled me so. Those things happen when you're young. But his being my closest friend - and he had been for years - and turning against me so violently upset me beyond measure. I wanted somehow to avoid this entire unpleasant situation.

Voila! Despite the fact I had never had a hive in my life (and haven't again to this day, more than forty years later), I began itching and finding the biggest, reddest hives you could imagine on my face, neck and arms.

My parents were flabbergasted. It did the trick. I was home from school in bed the next day "recuperating." The weekend came next and I made a complete and speedy recovery. Fences were mended with my friend over the weekend. He even felt concern that I had been so upset I broke out in hives.

Can't help but wonder now how many other illnesses my mind concocted when I was growing up. I can just say that as sickly as I was during my childhood, I've been quite robust in adulthood. "Disgustingly healthy" as one doctor put it to me.

On the score of attitude, I can say I've proved to myself that thinking oneself into an upbeat mood when one is down is doable. It works. Give it a try sometime.

So I am more than willing to study New Thought material with an open mind. I wonder how much we can do with our minds.

Overlooking Four Leaf Clovers (And A Lot More)

'Twas the Druids, I believe, who originally developed the belief that four-leaf clovers had magical powers and brought good luck.

They are rare, but not extraordinarily so. Perhaps you have known someone who had a knack for finding them. I once had friend who always seemed to be able to spot one in a patch of clovers. What the heck?

As a child I would look and look and look. I can honestly report I have never found one myself. Why? Lack of patience, I'm convinced. Finally I just gave up looking, except for an occasional glance whenever I come upon clovers.

Two thoughts occur to me while pondering this. One, I would suggest that the strange happenings in our lives go by unnoticed simply because we aren't really looking for them. Synchronicites, ("Godwinks" as SQuire Rushnell has termed them), which are defined as meaningful coincidences, do happen to all of us. But are we paying attention? I believe meaningful dreams are another overlooked source of intrigue. But how many pay attention to them? Dreams are most often had and then soon forgotten.

I have begun to suggest that keeping a journal for such things is a good way to put your journey into proper perspective.

My second thought is this: just as searching for four leaf clovers takes attention and patience, so the more mystical aspects of life are only noticeable to those who are actively watching for them.

I believe - because it seems to have been my experience - that prayers are not answered (and if that word troubles you read desires instead) apart from faith. I don't think of that, as some do, as attempting to cajole a sky-genii into granting a wish.

For me it is a matter of having a deep belief that life is not an accident, but has meaning and purpose. Perhaps I should say it can have meaning and purpose if we choose to live meaningfully and purposefully. If not, it can seem a veritable jumble.

Life is meaningful and the universe will cooperate with us - if we cooperate with it. I believe we must first open our spiritual eyes.

Psychic Goose

Saw this on the news and had to share. I believe in psychic power, that is as extra-sensory perception. I also believe animals are psychic. More psychic than most of us are. I would hazard to guess that as our brains evolved into much more complex organs, we humans eventually learned to rely more on reason and logic than our innate sensitivities.

Be that as it may, here we have a goose whose little gosling had become entangled in string. The mother goose, sensing the need for greater help than she could offer alone, sought out a police car and started pecking at its door. According to People Magazine, Cincinnati police Sergent James Givens reported it this way:

I was sitting in a patrol car in a parking lot, I heard something pecking on the side of the door and I looked down and I thought the goose was hungry. I was eating a bagel and I tossed it a piece but it didn't have any. It walked in front of me so I followed it.

The troubled goose led the officer to her troubled baby. With no one available to help from SPCA Wildlife, Givens called a fellow officer who untangled the gosling as Mom calmly looked on.

A pretty interesting little tale, I believe. Givens attributed all this to "motherly instinct." I think of it as using psychic abilities that animals naturally possess. And speaking of mothers, I should mention that the offending string that entwined the gosling had come from a Mother's Day balloon. Weird coincidence, no?

One further thought. I believe we are all interconnected. As Marcus Aurelius once put it: "Everything is interwoven, and the web is holy." That is my basic worldview and it colors my way of looking at life accordingly.

Religious Snake Handling And Psychic Power

I'm a "what if?" kind of person. Fascinated as I am with the subject of religion and being a native of the southern United States ( a hotbed for religious snake handling), I have pondered often those bold folks who "take up serpents" in accordance with their understanding of biblical teaching: "And these signs shall follow them that believe; in my name shall they cast out devils; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover" (Mark's gospel 16:17, KJV)

I've never seen this spectacle in person (never really desired to), but have read tons of material about the subject and viewed a number of documentaries. And I'm struck by what these folks can get buy with. The photo to the right is of a book written by a (now deceased) reporter for a newspaper in my old hometown, Chattanooga, Tn.

The "what if?" part comes in when I consider whether there might be some psychic connection between the snake and the handler.

Sure, these folks sometimes get bitten and sometimes die from the bites. But look at how many times they do handle these deadly animals in a frantic manner, yet suffer no bad outcome.

If the naysayer wants to doubt, let him try the feat himself. For those who handle deadly snakes in a non-religious context, their are certain methods employed to guarantee a good outcome. Snake bites in such circumstances usually come about because of mistakes and carelessness in protocol.

But the religious snake handler exercises what seems to be a recklessness (I suppose the religious snake handler might consider it "holy boldness").

The bigger question for me is this: can we humans communicate with our animal brothers and sisters? I think the answer is yes. Few would argue against this, even if they feel mainly voice tone and body language are the chief means. But I'm a believer in telepathy. I don't find non-verbal communication such a big deal.

More specifically, can snakes pick up this - for lack of a better term - vibe which the religious believer taps into? I'm open to this.

Death from snakebite here in the US is somewhat rare, no doubt because most of us seek to avoid confrontation with dangerous snakes. But how do we explain the rareness of snake bite deaths among those folks who regularly and very purposefully interact with poisonous snakes?

Thinking About Cremation And Religion

There is a strand of thought among conservative Christians (in which tradition I spent a good part of my youth) that looks down on cremation as a means of dealing with a person's earthly remains after death.

An article (click that if you want to see it) I was reading brought that thought back to mind. Actually, the article is a rehash of a Charles Colson article I had never read.

Evidently, the fear for conservative Christians is that cremation (and especially the example cited of having one's cremains buried in a biodegradable urn that could then be planted alongside a chosen tree in order that you could "become one" with your "personal" tree), heralds a drift towards paganism.

Frankly, I have for a number of years been drifting back towards paganism. As a child I remember having a distinct animistic drift that was trained out of me both by religious indoctrination and formal education. I can't fathom having a personal tree because nature belongs to all (however, I admit there have been many specials trees in my life).

But going on,  the article closes with this thought:

Once, members of western society aspired to, in the words of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, “glorify God and enjoy him forever.” And our treatment of our loved one’s remains reflected our anticipation of resurrected life. Now, too many in our society aspire to little more than spending the afterlife as a pine tree, which leaves us, as Chuck said, truly lost in the woods.

Cute: "lost in the woods." But as for aspiring to nothing more than an afterlife as a tree, let's remember that regardless of what may or may not happen in an afterlife, our bodily remains will eventually be reabsorbed into the ecosystem. What has that to do with an afterlife?

Personally, the idea of bodily resurrection has lost its grip on my thoughts of an afterlife. Inasmuch as I tend to think of the continuance of our personality after we leave this plane, the idea of bodily resurrection seems superfluous.

Cremation, it seems to me, is just a speeding up of returning us to dust. If we stay dead long enough  it will happen to all. Nothing disrespectful to God here that I can see.

On the other hand, I see nothing wrong with being buried. I'm saying, I don't see why this very personal choice should be controversial. My personal choice, at least for now, is cremation, with a celebration of life over a traditional funeral service.

I have found that many people in well-established religious traditions have a tendency to - at least in their own minds - pick and choose what they really believe and think of as important. Many conservative Christians ignore tradition and opt for cremation.

The bigger issue to me is the idea that we should all be free to connect with the divine in our own way. A personally developed spiritual worldview will be more meaningful than an instilled one.