Snakes: The Sequel

Some friends were visiting a couple of weeks ago, and everyone decided it was a wonderful night for a fire. I happened to have plenty of firewood but very little to no kindling. The women decided to make the short trek to a nearby patch of trees to gather up the required fuel. They returned with a goodly amount, a roaring blaze ensued, and—as people like to say—a good time was had by all.

The good time became a bit marred a couple of days later when one of the women ended up in the local emergency room—twice. As it turns out, she was bitten by a copperhead. For those of you who are in the dark about copperheads, they are small, venomous snakes that inhabit most of the southern (as well as other) regions of our country.

Fangs of the Reptile

Interestingly enough, on her woodsy excursion, our friend only felt a slight prick. Since she was gathering wood, she assumed it was a splinter. A splinter indeed… The fangs of the reptile found its way into the end of her finger and that was that. Speculation has it that it was a young snake, but poisonous, nonetheless.

Ever since then, there has been a snake uprising in our neighborhood. Facebook is awash with pix of the scaly critters, and all the young mothers are in an uproar. I guess I can’t blame them. The subdivision in which we live has about one hundred children—many of them quite small. Having an infestation of snakes can make one a tad uncomfortable. This is particularly true of the women.

That probably sounds a bit sexist (I know plenty of guys who are squeamish about the slithery varmints as well). Still, the onus seems to fall on the female side of the equation. There’s good reason for that, of course. Just check out the first few pages of Scripture.

In Genesis chapter three, there’s a story I’m pretty sure most of you have read. If you haven’t, I’m almost positive you’ve heard it—or some version of it, at least.

Enter the Serpent

You may remember that Adam and Eve were the only human inhabitants of the Garden of Eden. Enter the Serpent. The wily creature tempted the unsuspecting couple, they sinned, and the rest is Biblical history. They got kicked out of paradise, never to return.

What’s worse, everyone and everything got cursed by God. There’s one line in particular that puts our snake problem in perspective. As the Lord hands down the curse for the serpent, He states, “I will put enmity between you and the woman…” And there you have it.

So the women of our neighborhood are all up in arms. The snake population seems to be on the rise, and the curse has reared its ugly head once again. My lovely Bride insists on keeping the garage door closed, and I have orders to clip the grass closer to the roots than is normally recommended. What’s a mother to do?

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

The Only Ones

There’s an old joke about a guy who dies and goes to Heaven. Have you heard it? I suppose you have, but I’ll write a quick synopsis for any who’ve missed it. Saint Peter meets him at the gate and offers a quick tour.

The guy takes him up on it and begins to follow him around. Peter points out the neighborhood in which the guy (let’s call him Earl) will be residing. Then Earl gets to see the golf course he’ll be playing and the ocean in which he’ll be swimming.

Be Very Quiet

Then they approach a block with a long, high wall extending for quite a distance. Peter puts his finger to his lips and whispers to Earl to be very quiet as they walk along the wall. They stealthily tiptoe to the other end of the structure and when they reach the far corner, Peter takes a deep breath and tells Earl it’s okay to resume their vocalizing.

Earl got curious and asked Peter why all furtiveness. Peter quickly answered that the (insert your own Christian denomination or sect) live behind the edifice. He added, “We’re always quiet around the wall because they think they’re the only ones here.”

That story has gotten more than a few laughs over the years. Unfortunately, it’s a little less than humorous when you consider that it hits way too close to the truth. There are more than a few folks who have set themselves up as judge and jury when it comes to the road to Heaven. Fortunately for the rest of us, they aren’t the final authority, and I seriously doubt they will be the only ones in Heaven (regardless of who they are).

We Have Differences

Lord knows, we Christians have our differences. We have different theologies, different practices, and differing views on Scripture. As a matter of fact, the only thing we really have in common is a belief that Jesus is Lord and Savior, God Almighty come in the flesh. Beyond that, it seems (at least sometimes) to be a free-for-all. Let’s face it. There’s a lot of material for disputation.

Everyone needs to have the strength of their convictions—otherwise, they wouldn’t be convictions at all. Nevertheless, there has to be common ground—a place where we agree. That, I hope, would be a belief that all believers end up in Heaven one day—even those who differ from us.

Healthy debate and Biblebased discussions are good and necessary. Everyone is on a journey as they go through this life. My journey has taken me along a path that has wound through different beliefs, practices, and traditions. Eventually, it brought me to where I stand today.

I think I’m right. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t stand strong. Still, I try to remember that I’m a mere human being—one who doesn’t understand every little thing. And I always allow for the possibility that I’m wrong on something. There’s always room for growth. Even for an old geezer like me.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

Porch Pirates

Shortly after we moved into our newly built home, we installed one of those doorbells that contain a hidden camera. One of the early videos captured by this technological marvel was that of a middle-aged man in a ballcap who mounted our porch steps, bent over in front of our door, stood up, then turned and walked away. We later learned that the guy was checking under doormats for keys. If he found one, he entered the home and pilfered some of the owners’ goods.

As I recall, this was happening in broad daylight. To say the least, this guy was pretty brazen. I don’t think I would even have the chutzpah to walk up to someone’s door and check under the mat let alone use their hidden key to enter their abode. I suppose more homes are empty in the daytime than at night.

Pilfering the Packages

This is possibly a step up from being a “porch pirate.” While I’ve known about this particular practice for quite a while, I just recently heard the term applied to these bandits on an episode of “Bluebloods.” Porch pirates are those folks who trail behind the Amazon and UPS trucks and swipe newly delivered packages from under people’s noses. This, too, has occurred in our new neighborhood.

High tech has been used to combat this sort of thing as well. Besides the hidden camera doorbell, Alexa (you probably know who she is) is now being used by Amazon to notify folks that a package will be delivered that day. Once the package is delivered, Alexa then announces that the package has arrived. Not a bad system.

There is an even better system than this, however. It’s one that used to be widely used in this country but has fallen by the wayside. It falls under the general term of “neighboring.” In the old days, people used to know their neighbors, their neighbors’ kids, and their neighbors’ comings and goings. There was a tad less privacy, but no one could get away with pilfering a freshly dropped bundle from your front porch.

The Art of Neighboring

Sadly, the art of neighboring has faded from view. For many, it has become a shrinking dot in life’s rear-view mirror. For the most part, it seems that people don’t know their neighbors. Where there was once security in communities, there is now suspicion and mistrust. The neighbor has become a dark character to be avoided or shunned. For some of you, this may sound a bit overstated, but it’s not far from the truth for many folks.

There was a time when even the neighbor you disliked would look out for you. Now, suspicious activity next door evokes the need to close one’s blinds and curtains and look the other way. This new distrust is, in fact, antithetical to the Word of God.

Even the Old Testament Jewish laws were clear. Loving your neighbor as yourself did not originate with the incarnation of Jesus. Yet it seems to have gone with the wind.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

Smarter by the Day

My lovely Bride and I were staying at our son and daughter-in-law’s home recently. One morning after a brisk walk and a long shower, I happened to spot a bottle of aftershave on the bathroom counter. Since I was using my grandson’s bathroom, I surmised it must belong to the strapping, young eighteen-year-old.

Normally, I wouldn’t be drawn to something like that. After all, aftershave lotions, sprays, and creams are a dime a dozen. This one, however, was called “Very Sexy.” Having turned sixty-nine, my “very sexy” days are behind me (if I ever actually had any). I decided it would be a good idea to steal a spray or two.

As it turned out, there was nothing particularly special or sexy about it. It was rather run-of-the-mill. It smelled very nice, of course, but I didn’t feel especially sexy after its application. I hope my wife appreciated it.

Totally Unrelated

In a totally unrelated story, I read that scientists have learned how to grow tiny brains in Petri dishes. This is, I’m sure, a startling new advancement. More importantly, it will probably lead to discoveries that may save lives down the road. As for now, it’s just another pea brain vegetating on a plate. It was an interesting article, but knowing this has not made me any smarter (Scientists Grow Tiny Brain). I’m guessing it hasn’t made the scientists any smarter either.

So, what do these two stories have in common? Well, it’s simply this. The aftershave didn’t make me any sexier, and the tiny brain didn’t make me any smarter. And yet, we humans tend to continue in the quest to become sexier and smarter as well as stronger, richer, and more popular. All these quests are, on the surface, worthwhile endeavors.

Unfortunately, our end will be the same even if we attain some of this stuff. Jesus once asked why we worry about such things. He added that none of them will add a single hour to our lives.

Quality of Life

I know, I know… The argument is that our quality of life will somehow become better. I get it. But I’m thinking that our quest becomes our obsession and we miss out on the more important substance of life. I think I’d like being a bit sexier or a tad smarter. Still, I’m pretty sure it’s more important to live a life worthy of the calling.

When one reaches the age to which I have attained, it becomes starkly apparent that we tend to waste a lot of time pursuing the impossible dream. Dreams are great, but it might behoove us to adopt other thoughts. Maybe we should dream about spending more time helping the needy in this world. Once we’ve dreamed such lofty aspirations, we may want to actually spend time achieving those goals.

I’m just as guilty as the next guy when it comes to fending only for myself. I’m not merely getting on your case. These words are for me as well as you. God help us.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

The Life Verse

I read an article recently that reminded me of something I hadn’t heard or thought of for a long time—the life verse. For those who are unfamiliar with that term, it’s a reference to a practice that many Christians followed in years gone by. The idea behind it was to latch onto a Scriptural passage that jumped out at you—one upon which you would base your life (sensing, of course, that this was the Lord’s will for you).

Typically, these would often be verses that are referred to as the “promises of God.” They would be passages such as Romans 8:37 which states, “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Another example of a typical life verse would be Philippians 4:19—“My God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.”

Uplifting, Inspiring, and Superficial

It’s certainly no wonder that folks would choose verses such as these. They are positive, uplifting, and inspiring. The life verse was meant to shape your being in such a way as to guide you in the right direction along the pathway of your long pilgrimage. There’s certainly nothing wrong with that, but many folks would opt for a passage and never understand its context or full meaning. In other words, it was often quite superficial.

Upon hearing many of these life verses, it dawned on me that a lot of the Bible was being ignored. For example, I never heard anyone say their life verse was Hebrews 10:31 which avers, “It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” Try living that one out for the rest of your life.

The guy who wrote the article revealed the fact that he grew up as a pastor’s kid (that would be a PK to all you insiders). He admitted that, during his childhood, he was something of a “smart aleck.” He decided to be a bit rebellious and sarcastic by choosing the verse from John 11:35 which simply says, “Jesus wept.” I’m sure his parents were a bit put off by his choice, but they probably loved him in spite of it.

The Private Life of Jesus

Interestingly enough, he went on in his article to explain that, in his later years, the verse actually became a comfort for him. If you look at it in context, you can see why. As it stood alone, it was a ridiculous choice for a so-called life verse. In its context, however, it shows a deep glimpse into the private life of Jesus—one seldom seen in the Gospels.

Jesus was standing at the graveside of his good friend, Lazarus. Even though he was about to raise him from the dead, his love for his friend moved him to tears. His onetime companion was lying in a tomb, stone cold dead. As he once stated, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” I guess it was a pretty good life verse after all.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]


Sometimes it seems like the entire world is watching the Game of Thrones. Facebook memes, cinema parties, and myriads of entertainment articles are telltale signs that people are watching, reading, and celebrating this HBO phenomenon. This mania has even infiltrated the wedding business.

I perform a lot of wedding ceremonies and have noticed an uptick on the inclusion of the Celtic Knot or Handfasting ceremony (used in various wedding ceremonies on the Game of Thrones). One couple even used the theme song of the show as their recessional. It’s a great tune but not one you’d normally expect at a nuptial observance.


I just ran across an article that referenced the statistics that a growing number of folks are naming their babies after some of the more popular characters in Thrones. Baby Names are for Girls highlighted the fact that the name Khaleesi has overtaken the ever popular Brittany or Britney. Khaleesi is a name that basically means “queen” in a fabricated language written into the scripts of Thrones. (An interesting sidelight to that is the fact that the gal who used the theme song as her recessional was named Britney.)

What really caught my eye was an observation by the author of the article. He noted that the Khaleesi character had heretofore seemed like the presumed savior of the Seven Kingdoms. She was the benevolent sort who wanted to turn the world into a peaceable realm. Not only was she kind, she was beautiful—exactly the sort of person you’d want your daughter to become. Now, with only one episode remaining, it appears as though she has gone mad—killing thousands all by herself (with the help of her fire-breathing dragon).

Consequently, there are hundreds (maybe thousands) of little girls out there who might be named after a maniacal, murdering despot. We’ll have to wait for the final episode to be sure, but it’s beginning to look as though their parents have jumped the gun. It’s tough to overlook a holocaust.

Gomer and Zipporah

Whatever happened to John and Mary? We used to name our kids after saints. That seems to be going by the wayside. Christians and Jews were adamant that their children are given names into which they could live—names like Jacob, Abraham, Paul, and Elizabeth. Even I named my boys to be unusual. I guess I got tired of being one of many guys named David wherever I went. At least I waited until I really knew the meaning of their names—no mad monarchs in the picture.

Still, there are a lot of great Biblical names I’m not anxious to see make a comeback. These would be names like Ebenezer, Gideon, Gomer, and Zipporah.

People used to bestow names not only because they liked the sound of them but also they wanted their children to become the kind of person their namesake had been. Things seem to have changed. There are a lot of girls out there who may want soon to change their names to Britney.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

Most Valuable Mammal

Believe it or not, I taught biology for a year. I’m not really sure how I lasted an entire year, but I suppose it had something to do with the fact that school only lasted nine months. I can do almost anything for nine months.

Those fleeting moments taught me several things. Probably the best thing it instilled in me was an undying respect for teachers that stay in the game their entire lives. My hat is off to them. Kudos, my brothers and sisters.

Recently, I ran into an old student of mine. During my tenure, she was a senior in the Advanced Biology class that I taught (and I use the term, taught, rather loosely). After all these years, I not only remembered her, but I remembered her name. For me, that’s a major achievement. I have trouble remembering my own name let alone someone whose path I crossed over forty-five years ago.

Will Wonders Never Cease?

Another amazing thing was the fact that she seemed to like me and thought I was a good educator. Will wonders never crease? I was quite pleased to hear it, but good students tend to make for good teachers; and she was a good student.

She was such a good student, that she won an award in my class. I had totally forgotten that I had handed out little trophies for various acheivements. At the end of that Advanced Biology class, she was awarded the “Most Valuable Mammal” trophy. Not only did she remind me of that little tidbit, she told me she still had it. That’s good to know, because I probably dropped a hard-earned quarter on that baby. Sometimes, you just have to spare no expense.

If I recall correctly, the Most Valuable Mammal was the student with the highest comprehensive grade in the class for the entire year—a feat worth noting. I was not an excessively tough grader, but I failed my share of students. If she was awarded the coveted MVM, she earned it.

An Ego Booster

I was excited to have run into her (even though it was at a funeral). I don’t get back to that town all that much, so the odds were extremely low. Nevertheless, we crossed paths once again, and some good memories were shared (and my ego boosted a tad).

Sometimes in life, you just never know if you’ve done some good in any given situation. I can now say that I affected at least one student in a positive manner. It’s probably fortuitous that I didn’t last long in the teaching profession, but at least I made my mark in a small (but significant) way. That’s pretty gratifying.

In the Old Testament book of Esther, Esther’s uncle Mordecai, presented her with a dangerous challenge that, if it worked out, would possibly save their people. He told her that it may very well be that she was there “for such a time as this.” Maybe my time was the year I presented the Most Valuable Mammal Award.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

Any Final Words?

On Mothers Day 2019, I had the privilege of worshiping with the local Manassas Biker Church. There are probably a lot of Christians who would hesitate to worship with a group of hard-core bikers. We tend to hang with people who look like us, talk like us, and do the same kinds of things we like to do. Bikers are no different, and that, in itself, makes THEM a bit different.

Many congregants gather in what we used to call their “Sunday best.” If you’re a biker, your Sunday best is often a leather vest and a dew rag. Biker churches are the quintessential “come as you are” people. That’s one of the reasons I enjoy worshiping with them so much.

Not Tailored for Bikers

My sermon was one that could be delivered to virtually any congregation. It was not tailored for bikers and was entitled, “Do Whatever He Tells You.” The title was a direct quote from Mother Mary (the mother of Jesus). It was specifically a Mothers Day sermon (easily done when you’re preaching about the Mother of God). The biker community has this in common with all other congregations—many of them are mothers, and each of them had a mother.

You may recognize the setting of Mary’s words. It’s in the context of the wedding at Cana. Jesus, his Mom, and his newly called disciples were invited. The reception was probably a few days into the event (wedding celebrations were a much bigger deal then) when they ran out of wine—a definite no-no.

When Mary discovered their plight, she turned to Jesus for help. He resisted, and told her his time had not yet come. Presumably, he was talking about going public with his ministry. If he helped them out (particularly in the way he was about to do so), he would not longer be a secret Messiah. Everything would be out in the open.

She Put Him on the Spot

Mary, being a typical Jewish mother, was having none of that—Savior or not. After all, he was still her son. She turned to the servants and uttered the historic words, “Do whatever he tells you.” I’m guessing she was pointing at Jesus when she spoke. His own mother put him on the spot. I presume some of you have had a similar experience along the way. He could either defy his Mom, or he could jump into the fray. I’m thinking that defying his Mom was not in his spiritual DNA.

Despite his belief that his time had not yet come, his Mother’s wishes took precedence. Chances are, like a lot of us, he heard his Heavenly Father speaking through his earthly Mother. The Bible doesn’t say that, but I’ve no doubt the Lord does that a lot—maybe even to his Incarnate Son.

One of the most interesting things about this passage is the fact that, “Do whatever he tells you,” are the last recorded words of Mary in Scripture. As it turns out, these are words we can all live by.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

The Tweet Stands

Arizona Governor, Doug Ducey, decided to stand by a recent Twitter post. In an Easter weekend Tweet, the Governor had posted, “He is risen,” while wishing his Christian constituents a “blessed and happy Easter.”

He then began receiving pressure from various secular groups to remove it and apologize. Ducey’s reply was, “We won’t be removing this post. Ever. Nor will we be removing our posts for Christmas, Hanukkah, Rosh Hashanah, Palm Sunday, Passover or any other religious holiday. We support the First Amendment, and are happy to provide copies of the Constitution to anyone who hasn’t read it.”

The First Amendment

The rejoinder was particularly interesting because one of the complaints contended that Ducey was in violation of the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. This is the one, of course, that upholds freedom of speech as well as religion. It specifically reads as follows:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

It’s pretty obvious that the Governor didn’t breach the first amendment. He did torque off a few people who don’t like the mention of anything that smacks of religion. I’m not sure if this will aid him in his next election or hurt him. Either way, he stood by his convictions that it’s his right to wish someone a Happy Hanukkah or a delightful Kwanza.

It’s no secret that the separation of church and state in this country has taken on a whole new meaning. People like to use it as a club to get their own way these days. It is more than a shame that we have to guard our well-wishes tightly so as to not offend even those for whom the remarks are not intended—or are even indirectly affected. Somehow, I’m pretty sure this is not what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they drafted the constitution.

This is Where we Are

Nevertheless, this is where we are. Wishing someone well can now make for entertaining Twitter wars. I can just picture Obi-Wan Kenobi waving his hand saying, “These are not the Tweets you’re looking for.”

And that brings up my main point. Why are we bothering to glean Tweets that are not meant for us? When something is stated that does not pertain to us, can’t we just let them slide on through like so much water rushing by us in the local river? Do we have to dive in? Please don’t come in! The water’s not fine.

I guess that everything is so public these days, it’s hard not to notice—even when it doesn’t concern us. We seem to have so much time on our hands that everyone else’s business becomes our own. Heaven forbid we pass up an opportunity to post a commentary on another person’s activities. We might be viewed as uninformed. Get wrecked!

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

101, 102…Whatever it Takes

I was watching my favorite sports team last evening. They were leading the game 5-4 going into the ninth inning. This might be the place you’d possibly expect me to say, “They blew it.” Fortunately, that didn’t happen. The game ended in spectacular fashion with the score unchanged. It did so, in large part, to the relief pitching.

For both sides, the eighth and ninth inning hurlers were quite good. One guy, in particular, Felipe Vasquez, was magnificent. He pitched the top half of the last inning. It was, in a word, superb. In two words, he was “lights out!” He retired the side, 1-2-3, in a display of efficiency.

A Bit Different

For the final out, he had to face the opposition’s best hitter. As circumstances would have it, that same guy had gotten to him for a home run the last time they met. Things were a bit different this time.

Vasquez struck him out to end the game. He did it on three pitches—three sick pitches (as the young players like to say). The first was a breaking ball, but the final two were unvarnished fastballs. The first one registered 102 miles per hour on the stadium radar gun. The last pitch, a high hard one that had the batter flailing, was clocked at 101. It was a thing of beauty.

I watch these sorts of outings with a great deal of admiration—for several reasons. First of all, I spent a few seasons on the mound as a teenager. I was okay, but I only got guys out because of my control. I knew where to stick my 47 miles per hour pitches and generally put them where I wanted them to go. So, I can appreciate a guy who can heave it twice as fast as I ever could. (Full disclosure: We didn’t actually have radar guns in those days, so I’m estimating my fastball—if you can call it fast.)

Secondly, I’ve never had to stand in the batter’s box against a guy who could throw that hard. Frankly, you couldn’t pay me enough money to do so. It would be tantamount to suicide for a guy like me.


Finally, anyone who can throw that hard is almost superhuman. Those dudes are few and far between. Ones who can actually control those pitches are even more rare. They are precious commodities on any baseball team. It’s an extraordinary delight when your favorite team lands a guy like that.

Pitchers like Vasquez are as rare as the Word of the Lord in the days of Eli (1 Samuel 3:1). When you do see one, you relish the time you spend watching him. When the Word of the Lord came to Samuel, neither he nor Eli recognized what it was at first. Once they realized it was God, however, they paid attention.

Among major league closers, Vasquez is the real deal. He’s got my attention. His fastball isn’t as awesome as God’s Word, but it’s fun to watch.

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]