I arrived safely in Nashville and felt well enough to risk some dinner before checking into my hotel. I'm sitting here now in a nice, quiet room. There are NO meetings scheduled for tonight. I plan to turn in early.
Tomorrow, the Board of Directors of the United Methodist Men's Foundation meets. I'm on that. Friday morning and afternoon and Saturday morning, the National Association of Conference Presidents of United Methodist Men meets. I'm on that, too. Friday night and Saturday afternoon, the Board of Directors of the National Association of United Methodist Scouters meets. I'm the President of that.
I'll drive home Saturday night, preach Sunday morning and teach my confirmation class, then go hiking with the Venturers Sunday afternoon.
After the great persecutions ceased, hardy Christians looking to show how much they loved Jesus became monks, starving themselves in the desert, sitting on poles for years, casting themselves into the sea on little rafts without water to see where God would take them. The lifestyle was called "the white martyrdom," because, well, you couldn't get anyone to arrest you for your faith and put you to death in extravagant ways any more (that was "the red martyrdom," if you were wondering), so you just went nuts for Christ until you collapsed and died. Instant reward! The Circuit Riders of early American Methodism were mostly dead by the time they were 35, too, from exposure, disease, exhaustion, robbers or what have you.
We revere these men (and women), but I think they were crazy. Looking at my schedule, I guess they would respond, "it takes one to know one." Oy.