The road is long, with many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where, who knows where.
But I’m strong, strong enough to carry him.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

  So on we go. His welfare is of my concern.
No burden is he to bear. We’ll get there.
For I know he would not encumber me.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,

 If I’m laden at all, I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another. It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return.
While we’re on the way to there, why not share?
Bob Russell, Bobby Scott, from “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” (1969)

The first three-quarters of the twentieth century was a time of constant, irrational fear of wars for most Americans, and for many other people on earth as well. There was the First World War, which ran from mid-1914 through most of 1918. And then the Second World War, which followed it from September of 1939 to September of 1945. And that one ended with two nuclear explosions, which told us that forever more after that, nothing ever was going to be the same again. And the Korean War, which went from mid-1950 to mid-1953. And then finally there was the Vietnam War, which struggled on from November 1 0f 1955 right on through April 30 of 1975, believe it or not. And since the United States had exploded those two nuclear bombs in Japan to definitively end the Second World War, it was readily assumed by just about everyone during much of  what was left of the twentieth century that atomic warfare had well and truly begun. So it really was only just a matter of time before atomic weapons would be used in war again.

 I came along just after the duck-and-cover phase of school management, when everyone was supposed to dive under their desks in the event of another nuclear war. But still, when I was in school, we were taught that nuclear war was inevitable, and we simply had to learn to live with that fact. I can remember coming home from school one day so upset that I told my mother that, really, what was the point of anything, when human life was now so precarious? I will remember forever after what she said to me in response. I must have been no older than first or second grade, because I was looking a long way up at her face as she said to me, “We cannot live in fear.” Just those five words. And with those words, my mother changed my entire outlook! No, we cannot live in fear. My mother was perfectly right!

My mother and I talked a good deal about this, off and on throughout my growing-up. She was a firmly devout Christian, a leader in her Congregational Church, and she was an absolute rock of certain devotion to God. As I grew, and as I simply followed the tranquil certainty of her lead in simply trusting God, I came to realize that there is a path forward in finding that certainty in God’s patient love. In addition, those of us who were working in the study of afterlife evidence soon came across the fact that elevated Beings had been so horrified by Hiroshima and Nagasaki that they had vowed right then never to allow another nuclear weapon to be used in warfare. And you will note that, sure enough, despite the fact that nine countries presently have nuclear weapons, including the United States, Russia, France, China, the United Kingdom, Pakistan, India, Israel, and North Korea, most of which are not, shall we say, especially friendly. In the eighty years since the Second World War ended, no nuclear weapon has again been used in anger.

I no longer think that we can assume that any of this can be attributed to chance. During the past eighty years, there have been too many very near-miss situations. Including at least one American missile test which was foiled when an unknown missile came from out of nowhere and shot it down. And then there was the well-documented situation of Stanislav Yevgrafovich Petrov (7 September 1939 – 19 May 2017), better known as “The man who saved the world.”

When he was a lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Air Defense Forces, and he was on duty at the Serpukhov-15 bunker on September 26, 1983, there was suddenly an alarm sounding that indicated that a massive number of American missiles was right now incoming. Oh my God! Petrov should have at once notified his superiors, and there should have been a massive retaliatory nuclear strike against the United States, while such a strike still was possible. But from somewhere came the thought that this must be a false alarm! And so, against all rationality and all common sense, Petrov waited. And he waited. And he waited some more, with his heart quite literally in his throat because if he was wrong about this, there would go his country and all that he loved in rampant nuclear destruction. But Petrov was not wrong. No American missiles ever came.

Again and again in the modern world, People who were working for God have unwittingly done their work for good, and often with no recognition at all.  Stanislav Petrov does deserve a statue for his heroic act somewhere in the United States, and perhaps in the Capitol itself? It would be lovely if all the courageous stories of people like him could be told to our children. When the stories that we tell our children about people in other countries are not stories of petty hatred, but when they are instead stories about people like Stanislav Petrov, people who love foreign strangers enough to say, No, I don’t believe they would send missiles at us. I love them. I trust them. I will give them a chance to live.

And that is a fact that we should not take for granted! This linked article in the popular science magazine New Scientist is entitled, “The universe could vanish at any moment – why hasn’t it?” and like all such articles in all such magazines, it goes into a learned and complicated dither about just how precarious everything is, and how; it all eventually will end; but still why, nevertheless, you and I are probably going to be okay for a time. But consider for a moment that since the very recent-seeming year 2000, just shy of a quarter of a century has passed. Only one more year will do it! We tend to think of a century as such a long time, but it is nothing, really. And I didn’t give that sobering fact much thought until I sat down just now to write this blog post. My, my. What then is a human being’s life, when it is planned to take so little time as one century?

All these musings came about because I have been quite ill this week. And certainly in no mood for writing. On Thursday, I told Thomas that we still needed a blog post topic for this weekend, like it or not. And as he tends to do when it is already Thursday, he gave me just one word. He gave me Fear as a topic. Oh my goodness, fear is the strongest negative word, and to boot, he said that the idea had come from Jesus. Jesus is bothered by the fact that so many people who are going home now are so fearful! And He feels that is more and more because the earth overall is so fearful, and so negative. So entirely fear-based. He thinks that what is needed for us is a more focused personal forgiveness practice which will make our eventual going-home process easier for us and much more joyous. After all, this past quarter of a century since the twenty-first century began was a quarter of your life! And how have you used it? What have you learned? What would you like to do with the next quarter of your life?

And above all, my darlings, Jesus suggests to us now that we truly never fear anything! Just remember again how God has decided that there would never be another atomic bomb exploded, my child, and so it has ever been!

If I’m laden at all, I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another. It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return.
While we’re on the way to there, why not share?

 And the load Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother. He’s my brother!
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother!
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother!
=Bob Russell, Bobby Scott, from “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” (1969) \

(Many photos are from Vecteezy.com)

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