I took The 6 into the heart of downtown Tokyo to go to a huge exhibition, Treasures of the Romanovs and Russia. There were lots of precious objects from the Russian Orthodox church. The children had never studied Russian history before and didn’t know anything about the Russian Orthodox, so it was an amazing experience for them. They stared with open mouths at the wealth of gold used in everything they saw and were utterly horrified by the idolatrous icons.

After going through the museum, we ate and studied for 2 hours at McDonalds. Just another week or two and they will have completed their study of English grammar. They will then be on their way to a rigourous reading program.

Camp is over. Four short days. Just as we were all getting used to living together, eating, studying, playing, and sleeping all together, we had to go home. This year’s camp was the largest we’ve had so far: 107 people. Everybody from church (with the exception of one family of 3) attended the camp. Every morning, we spent 3 hours studying the book of Malachi. All the adults and children studied together. In the afternoons, various groups went hiking, played in the river, played soccer or ping-pong, fake sword fighting, practiced singing, took walks, or took naps. Then every evening, we had 3 hours of discussion about church matters. After that, many would stay up till all hours of the night, some till the morning, drinking beer or wine and talking together. Church camp is one of the things we all look forward to most every year. And like every year before this, our time of fellowship and learning this year was greatly blessed.

The day we arrived at camp, one of the families announced they were expecting their third baby next year. The mother had had very difficult pregnancies before this and had some morning sickness, and the father had to leave on a business trip, so I spent a lot of time with their inestimably cute, rambunctious, and utterly fearless 2-year-old daughter, Mina. Nearly all my time at camp was spent with little kids and now I’m suffering from severe withdrawal.

When Papa checked his e-mail when we arrived home from camp, Monday night, he had a message telling him Gramma had died on Friday morning. She had had a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in her lung. According to the doctors, it’s a peaceful and painless way to go. It doesn’t sound like it, but I hope they’re right.

I’m so sad because I wish I could be more sad. I can’t stop crying, but it’s not because I miss her. It’s because I wish I could have missed her. It’s because I wish I could have known her, spent time with her. But more than anything, it’s because it hurts to see Papa. He doesn’t show it much, but I can see it in his eyes. He suddenly looks years older than he did just a few days ago. It scares me. He’s now lost both his parents.

I never got to know Gramma too well. But I do know what kind of woman she was from the times I remember spending with her, and from what my parents have told me of her. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of Gramma is that she was fiercely independent. She was extremely honest and fair; very hardworking and determined. Once she set her mind to something, she would get it done. She always worked very quickly and efficiently. She was very punctual. She always had a book, always reading. Besides all the medical books (she was a nurse and Grandpa Smith was a doctor), there were a lot of heavy, serious books all over the house. I have her copy of Shakespeare’s Complete Works with her handwritten notes all over it. I love reading her notes as I studied the same plays in school. She was incredibly generous with her time and money and was involved with charities at her church. She loved her husband, children, and grandchildren more than anything. She remembered everyone’s birthdays and anniversaries, the entire extended family on both sides and would send out cards and presents to everyone. She was not easily scared. I remember sometimes she would get irritated, but not for too long. I wish I got to know her better. I wish I could have spent more time with her. I don’t have too many memories of her, but the ones I do have I cherish.

“Go Garver” is a term that can be laid to rest now that he-whom-we-have-awaited has come back to blogging. The correct term is now “Go Garner” now that Duane’s quitting.

The Dane doesn’t like MeshMag … Dr. Garver does.

If you do a search for “Ralph Allan Smith” at Amazon, all the search results are for Papa’s books. They’re not available yet but they should be soon. So, no, Cousin Davy, we won’t be bringing you any copies, but you will be able to order them for yourself before too long (I hope).

I don’t just count steps. I count the number of letters in last names.

24 is a good number. It can be divided by 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 12, and 24. When multiplied by 3, though, it becomes 72. Scary thought.

Ben has been accepted into Greyfriars. He’ll be moving to Moscow, probably at the end of July.

All my mother’s brothers have been geeky from boyhood, keeping up with the latest technology and buying it whenever possible. Papa studied computer programming in college (albeit using those monster computers the size of buildings running programs with punched paper). Uncle Benjamin and Papa started using Macs over 15 years ago. Uncle Benjamin, Uncle Leo, my cousins Christopher and Timothy, Ben, Berek, and I all use Nikon CoolPix cameras. When the cousins are together, we often end up talking about computer parts, specs, bugs, etc. We trade computer parts quite often. The younger kids have computers thrown together using parts rejected by older siblings or cousins (e.g., Berek’s comp). And in the midst of all that, Mama has always taken pictures with the same camera (also Nikon) she’s used for the last 20 years, and laughed when we moan and groan about freezing, crashes and lost data, triumphantly waving her pencil and paper. She only recently learned how to play CDs.

Mama had a small high school reunion a few weeks ago and some of her friends e-mailed her last week. So, last Thursday, she sat down in front of a computer and typed out an e-mail. (She used to use typewriters so she already knew how to type.) It took her a long time, but she wasn’t too bad at it. She’s learned enough to use the arrow keys, the “Home” and “End” keys, and the difference between backspace and delete. I even showed her cutting and pasting, though she needs more practice with that. Now that Ben is going to be gone, she’s really serious about learning how to e-mail and IM. If I can get her to IM, she’ll be ahead of Papa! He’s still reluctant to try.

For the first time in my life, I thought my mother was really cute as she glared at the computer and keyboard trying as hard as she could to figure things out.

Papa has two books coming out soon. I’m SOOOOOO excited.

My Grandma Smith passed away on Friday, while we were at camp. Please pray for my father.

My second article, written for the New Christendom Journal.

Alexander the Great died in the year 323 BC, Cleopatra in 30 BC. — both were struck by the same hand. But that is not what we are usually taught. The textbook view of history is very different.

Whether the subject is history, math, or science, teachers present truth as an “objective” statement of fact. As one writer puts it, “History is an account of things that actually happened.”

We are taught that in order to learn history we must commit names, places, dates, and events to memory. If we have the time and the inclination, we should perhaps dig a bit deeper: analyze the cultural, linguistic, economic, philosophical, and emotional backgrounds of major historical characters in order to understand the motives behind the actions that have molded history as we know it. We can trace the rise and fall of dynasties and kingdoms, the currents of politics and philosophy, the effects of economics, trade, and even weather upon various cultures. If we somehow manage to digest all that, we think we have grasped the objective facts and are now equipped to explain history.

Textbooks give the impression that there is a separate plane of reality where facts exist in themselves, self-sufficient truths, innumerable points floating in a vacuum waiting to be memorized and connected by objective logical reasoning. Christian textbooks are not immune to this tendency.

When a person has covered the points deemed necessary by the board of education, he is considered an “educated” man. He has learned the alphabet, 2 + 2 = 4, the multiplication tables, the periodic table, the dates of world history, and maybe (if he were taught with a Christian curriculum) the books of the Bible, the Ten Commandments (abridged version, of course), even some creeds and catechisms.

This is simply the wrong approach. Facts do not exist in an impersonal, objective, odourless, colourless, emotionless vacuum. They cannot, because all so-called facts, whether mathematic, scientific, or historic, have existed from eternity past in the mind of God, predestined by the Tri-Personal One. As such, objective facts do not exist in themselves on a pure, pulseless plane. They can only “be” in relation to the One who planned them. Pure objectivity exists only in the mind of God.

When viewed from God’s perspective, history is not an endless litany of names and numbers but the unfolding of a plan in which each person holds an eternal significance and purpose. History is a story of love: the love of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for each other and the love of God for man.

Instead of teaching students bare facts, divorced from the Tri-Personal One who conceived them before the beginning of time, we must teach them how to think from a Trinitarian perspective. However, we cannot enter the mind of God or see things precisely from His perspective. Our feeble, finite minds cannot fathom the mind of our infinite God. But as creatures created in His image, we can understand Him to a certain degree and we can see the Trinitarian flow of history He has revealed in His Word. It is our duty to “think His thoughts after Him” and teach our children to think three dimensionally about our diverse universe.

Not only should we ask, “What happened?” and “How did it happen?”, we must also ask, “What did God do?” and “Why did He do it?”

Regardless of eschatological position, Christians believe the Bible tells of the beginning and end of time. History fills in the blanks as it unrolls. Contrary to the non-Christian view that history is grounded in the past, Christians must see history as flowing from the future, through the present, to the past. Therefore, all things must be understood in terms of the end. We only understand the beginning of a story when we reach the end.

Never does yesterday turn back in its flight and become to-day, or to-day become to-morrow. Never does the past pass into the present, or the present into the future. No. It is the other way. To-morrow becomes to-day. To-day becomes yesterday. The future becomes the present. The present becomes the past. The present is the narrow strait, is the living instant, it is the flashing reality, through which the vast oncoming future flows into the endless receding past….

The Future is logically first, but not chronologically….

(Rousas J. Rushdoony, The One and the Many, p. 145, quoting from Nathan R. Wood, The Secret of the Universe, pp. 43-45)

So what about Alexander and Cleopatra?

We could say that Alexander the Great conquered more than anyone else before him because he was a military genius, or because he had an inferiority complex and wanted to outdo his father, or maybe both. We could say that he died from overdrinking, or if you prefer the other version, that he was poisoned. But that’s not enough. In the “real” picture, the Invisible Hand can be clearly seen: God used Alexander the Great to spread the Greek language so that the missionaries of the New Testament would be able to spread the Gospel more easily. He struck Alexander down when his purpose in history was fulfilled, as Daniel prophesied in the third year of Belshazzar (Daniel 8), over two hundred years before the event.

We could say that Cleopatra lost the Battle of Actium because Octavian’s general, Agrippa, was better than her general, Mark Antony. But I have yet to see any historian suggest that God destroyed Cleopatra because she wanted to establish a hybrid Greco-Egyptian religion with herself as god. She did not tolerate other religions. In her consuming passion to rebuild the Ptolemaic empire, she wanted to reacquire the land of Israel. It is said she even wanted to annihilate the Jews. So God struck her down, just three decades before the birth of Christ, using Octavian to pave the way for the Pax Romana, which enabled the rapid spread of the Gospel.

There are so many blanks to fill it seems an overwhelmingly daunting task at times, especially as we must rethink our approach to history. Viewing history as unfolding according to a perfect plan, we come to a better understanding of that plan, and the blanks become easier to fill.

But knowing history is not merely filling in blanks. Those who understand history work for the future.

God created the heavens and formed the earth to manifest His glory. As His people, it is our duty to glorify Him, to make history happen as He planned it. He knows every hair on every head. He has known every name, every place, and every event from eternity past. Some are more important than others, but each has its own place and purpose in His plan. God is the author of history and reveals Himself through it. When we seek Him, we ought to look at history as what He has brought to pass.

Christ, the King of Kings, reigns from on high at the right hand of the Father. The Holy Spirit dwells in us and guides us. The LORD has sworn to us that one day, every knee will bow before Him. With that in mind, we can fulfill our own roles in history with joy and confidence.