Rev 6:1 And I saw that the Lamb opened one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living beings saying, like a voice of thunder, “Come.”
Rev 6:2 And behold, a white horse. And he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering, and to conquer.
Rev 6:3 And when He opened the second seal, I heard the second living being saying, “Come!”
Rev 6:4 Another horse went out, fiery red, and it was granted to him that sat on it to take peace from the earth, so that they might kill each other; and there was given to him a great sword.
Rev 6:5 And when He opened the third seal, I heard the third living being say, “Come.” And behold, a black horse, and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.
Rev 6:6 And I heard a voice in the midst of the four living beings, saying, “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; but do not harm the oil and the wine.”
Rev 6:7 And when He opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living being saying, “Come.”
Rev 6:8 And behold, a pale horse, and he who sat on it was named Death, and Hades was following him. And authority was given to him over a fourth of the earth, to kill with the sword, and with famine, and with death, and by the wild beasts of the earth.
Rev 6:9 And when He opened the fifth seal, I saw underneath the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held.
Rev 6:10 And they cried with a loud voice, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, do You not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?”
Rev 6:11 Then a long white robe was given to them, and it was said to them that they should rest yet a while, until also their fellow servants and their brothers, who were about to be killed as also they were, should complete their course.
Rev 6:12 And I saw when He opened the sixth seal, that there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the whole moon became like blood.
Rev 6:13 And the stars of heaven fell to the earth, like a fig tree casting its untimely figs, being shaken by a mighty wind.
Rev 6:14 Then the sky was split like a scroll being rolled up, and every mountain and island were removed out of their places.
Rev 6:16 And they said to the mountains and crags, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of Him that sits on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb!
Rev 6:17 For the great day of His wrath has come, and who shall be able to stand?”
Is it possible to read an article and misunderstand the writer’s intention?
It is important for readers to recognise that behind every text is a writer, and that the writer has a purpose or reason for writing and a particular point of view. Not, necessarily an “evil or good” intention or agenda.
Before we answer this question. May we consider that one of the greatest teachers of all times, was completely misunderstood?
“Born in Bolivia, is best known for teaching mathematics at Garfield High School in East Los Angeles, California. Though they had generally been poor performers, Escalante pushed his students towards success through his dedication, passionate style and expertise in the material. In the early 1980s, was able to get most of his Advanced Placement (A.P.) calculus students to pass the A.P. exam. His tremendous success was significant enough to bring accusations of cheating, though retesting of students proved their capabilities. Escalante was memorably portrayed by Edward James Olmos in the 1988 film Stand and Deliver.” writes Jeff Calareso
Jeff Calareso is what I call, “misunderstood.” Proof of this “misunderstood” is the sentence highlighted about. May I repeat this for emphasis?
His tremendous success was significant enough to bring accusations of cheating, though retesting of students proved their capabilities.
Imagine. Working thousands of hours, unselfishly, to help his students which would never passed any Advanced Placement calculus test, actually pass the test with excellent grades. After all of that, being “misunderstood?”
“This book is written with the sole objective of helping the reader achieve a happy, satisfying, and worthwhile life.” — Norman Vincent Peale
The book is “The Power of Positive Thinking” I find it incredible that this book was written 60 year ago. The cadence of Dr. Peale’s voice is reminiscent of that bygone era but the wisdom of his words still resonate today. If this book were revised for today, I wonder what examples would be used, if Dr. Peale were around today I wonder what additional insights he would give. It’s a great read and will likely still hold true in another 50 years, writes Rick Yvanovich
Who is Rev. Peale?
In 1922 he was ordained in the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was assigned a small congregation in Berkeley, Rhode Island. Two years later he moved to Brooklyn, New York where he established himself as a gifted communicator so that in only three years he grew a church from 40 to 900 members. He spent a few years at another Methodist congregation in Syracuse, New York, before joining the Reformed Church in America so he could pastor Marble Collegiate Church, one of the oldest Protestant congregations in America. When he arrived, this church had around 600 members; upon his departure 52 years later it had 5,000.
While he was at Marble, he teamed up with a Freud-trained psychiatrist, Dr. Smiley Blanton, to begin a religious-psychiatric clinic in the church basement. They wanted to respond to the psychological needs of their congregation and especially the deep-rooted effects of the Great Depression. In 1951 this clinic was organized into the American Foundation of Religion and Psychiatry, with Peale as president and Blanton as executive director.
Peale spread his teaching through a variety of media. While serving the church in Syracuse he founded a radio program called “The Art of Living,” and it would broadcast his sermons for 54 years. By 1952 he and his wife were also on the new medium of television, featured on the show “What’s Your Trouble?” In 1945, along with his wife Ruth, and Raymond Thornburg, a local businessman, he founded Guideposts. What was at first a weekly four-page leaflet evolved to a monthly inspirational magazine that would soon have 2 million subscribers.
During his lifetime, Peale authored 46 books, and the most successful by far was The Power of Positive Thinking. Published in 1952, it stayed on the New York Times list of bestsellers for 186 consecutive weeks and sold 5 million copies, making it one of the best selling religious books of all-time. 1984 President Ronald Reagan awarded him the highest civilian honor in the United States, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, for his contributions to theology.
Peale retired as senior pastor in 1984 and died of a stroke on December 24, 1993 in Pawling, New York. He was ninety-five years old. President Bill Clinton honored him with these words: “While the Clinton family and all Americans mourn his loss, there is some poetry in his passing on a day when the world celebrates the birth of Christ, an idea that was central to Dr. Peale’s message and Dr. Peale’s work. He will be missed.”
Imagine. During Rev. Peale’s lifetime and even now, his writings are “misunderstood”. Some of his critics say, Yet as a Christian minister he denied that God was a being, saying “Who is God? Some theological being? He is so much greater than theology. God is vitality. God is life. God is energy. As you breathe God in, as you visualize His energy, you will be reenergized!” Tim Challies
Imagine. Living in Queens and not being influenced by Norman V. Peale. Might be almost impossible.
The Bronx, a different story: There were many individuals I especially remember. One was our Super, Junior. He was either Irish or Polish. I never knew his real name. He was a strapping 6’ 3”, built like an ox. His hair was straight and forever dangling on his forehead. Sweat was always pouring off him. He had one missing front tooth. He always wore the same outfit, a white T-shirt with dark trousers. I never forgot the day he came to disconnect a faulty radiator. It was at least a twelve-rib, cast-iron monster. It had to weigh a ton. He actually carried the thing out of the apartment with little effort, almost like he was cradling a baby. He replaced it with another radiator later that day. My mother always gave him a shot of whiskey at the end of every job. I guess she figured it was a good way to tip him.
Junior would be everywhere throughout the building and around the grounds, fixing things, cleaning, putting out the garbage, and filling other tin cans with coal residue from the furnace. No heat? Just bang on the pipes and Junior would oblige. Next you’d hear the pings and hisses as the steam heat came through the pipes. On certain days our dumbwaiter bell would ring and I’d run to the kitchen and place our bags of garbage on the open wooden elevator. Junior would sometimes shout up the shaft and we’d ring our bell to let him know he could haul it down. The contraption was hand operated with a rope.
Junior was a great guy and a topnotch super. It was strictly a one-man operation. Looking back, I don’t know how he handled all the work in such a large apartment house.
Joe Baker owned the local hardware store on 183rd Street and Bassford Avenue. His store was not only dimly lit but cluttered with all sorts of hardware items. It was difficult walking down the aisles, the merchandise was spilling over the counters. There was Joe behind the cash register , a tall man with horn-rimmed glasses and a mustache. He knew where everything was and pulled it off the shelves in a jiffy without the rest of the stuff falling off. He had a bad habit of short-changing unsuspecting customers, especially us kids. I was warned about him early on and recounted my change before I left the store.
Barney’s was a local soda fountain joint on 183rd just up the block from Joe Baker’s. There were several Barney’s over the years, but one in particular made the greatest egg creams, not to mention the usual ice cream sodas and milk shakes.
Jerry ran the local deli on the northeast corner of 184th street. He was a friendly short fellow with a round face and a bald head. Everyone in the neighborhood owed him money, even Ozok the Bum, who was always in his store. Jerry never seemed to mind. He’d write the debts in his black ledger and go on to the next customer. I never knew you could buy groceries on the lay-away plan! Many times he’d tally the bill on the brown grocery bag…a real lost art! He had a nickname for all the kids on the block. Mine was “the little gigolo.”
“The Art of Living,” Peale’s bestseller. Donald Trump “The Art of the Deal”. Do you see Peale’s influence?
Donald Trump is synonymous with Fifth Avenue, but to understand what helped to shape the billionaire, people who know Trump say: look across the East River.
“He is still a Queens guy. He sounds like a guy from Queens,” Gwenda Blair, author of “Donald Trump: Master Apprentice.” “He doesn’t have the sort of—certainly doesn’t present the kind of polish and refinement and old money of Upper East Side New York.
Trump grew up in a 23-room colonial, in leafy Jamaica Estates. He was one of five children. The family had a cook and chauffer, but neighbors say the Trumps were hardly showy.
“I knew that they were fairly quiet. They were fairly strict,” says Jamaica Estates Association president Martha Taylor.
Trump’s father, Fred, built apartment houses in Queens and Brooklyn. He demanded his children work hard, often bringing them to his job.
Fred and his wife Mary gave Donald a sense of self-confidence, but that brashness also could get Donald into trouble.
Trump attended the Kew-Forest private school in Forest Hills school until he was 13, when his parents, worried about his behavior, sent him to a more disciplined setting.
His days at the New York Military Academy upstate were regimented.
Friends say he excelled at baseball, played football and basketball.
The future beauty peagent maestro also was named “Ladies Man.”
Ted Levine was Trump’s high school roommate.
“I had to be better than my father. He had to be better than his father. We were sent here to be the best of the best, and we knew what our job was,” Levine says.
Still, at home, Trump’s reputation endured. Journalist Joyce Purnick grew up nearby and says her mother had strong opinions of him.
“Whenever she would encounter Donald Trump—and apparently it was quite often—he was tooling around in his car. He would break the speed limits. He would go through stop signs. She would come back all angry and say, ‘Stay away from that guy,'” Purnick says.
But those who knew him insist there were signs that Trump would make it big.
“He was well-positioned. He was good looking. He had a lot going for him,” Levine says.
Blair says that while Donald was brash and confident, he also had a chip on his shoulder from his years living in Queens.
It would all fall into place. He went to the Wharton School, entered the family business, became a billionaire, and now, a White House candidate.
What do you think shaped your life style and way of thinking?