Good
morning. It’s Thursday.
We continue to have our ups and downs in this life. It's an incredible journey down this road called life and living. We meet interesting people and see things that inspire and encourage. The Adventure Continues!
Good
morning. It’s Thursday.
Last weekend, we attended a COVID-restricted, masked and
distanced funeral in the Kansas City area.
The services were for a woman, Karen, who passed away unexpectedly at
her home. We didn't know her or her
husband really well. Oh, we knew who
they were and something about them, but it was our older son and his
family...and especially our three-year old grand daughter Estella who really
knew them.
You see, Miss Karen, as our grand daughter knew her, and
Mister Steve were members of the church they all attended. Mr. Steve and Miss Karen were retired...Steve
from the railroad, and Karen as an office manager. These two ordinary people…senior citizens...husband
and wife...were Estella's surrogate grand parents from before the time she was
born, and mentors to our son and daughter in law as they welcomed their first
born into their family.
On the one hand, there was nothing really special about the
relationship Estella had with Miss Karen and Mister Steve. Just ordinary grand parent-type stuff…going
out for ice cream, coming to her birthday party, doting over her at church. On the other hand, the unconditional love
that has been exchanged between them was palpable, on display, and
obvious. The after-church meals at the
neighborhood Culvers restaurant, the times with each other at the church, the
outings to football games or other places of interest, the interactions in
their homes, the birthday parties, the interest that the two families took in the
lives of the other...all of this and more were the glue that brought them
together and fostered a relationship that will continue even though Miss Karen
is no longer with us.
As I observed others at the funeral and the lunch that
followed...as I heard the obituary and some things of the life of Karen, I was
struck by the ordinary life she lived on the one hand, and on the other the
incredible blessing she was to a now three year old girl and her mom and dad, among
many others. Karen wasn't famous. She wasn't wealthy. She didn’t have a position of authority. However, being only who she was...just by
being herself...she left an indelible mark on Estella and a huge hole in the
church family that she was part of.
As I continued to observe and listen, I took notice of a
couple of things that to me were incredibly telling in terms of just who Miss
Karen and Mister Steve were to our son and family and how much they meant to
each other.
First, the owner of the Culvers where they spent many lunch
and evening meals, as well as a couple of the employees of the restaurant, attended
the funeral, the cemetery service, and the dinner. It isn't often that a business goes to that
extent for its customers...these two families and Miss Karen especially, were
obviously well liked and respected by the Culvers owner and crew. I honestly am somewhat flabbergasted that
this really happened and have no words to further describe my gratefulness for
their support.
Second, it is telling that when we sat down for the luncheon
meal following the funeral, Mister Steve came to our table and sat next to
Estella to eat. He could easily have been
with his family or other church friends more his age. However, he chose to sit next to this three
year old unrelated girl who loves him...and he her...with a kind of bonding,
unconditional love that many adults have never experienced in their lifetime. It was a precious moment I'll always be
thankful I was able to experience. And
my guess is that others in the room noticed it as well, and took note of their
love and devotion for one-another.
So, while we all will greatly miss the influence and love of
Miss Karen, we are comforted that she and Mister Steve…just by being
themselves, offering unconditional love and acceptance…giving of themselves…have,
and will continue to emulate the love of Jesus and make a huge difference in
their sphere of influence. And I suspect
that a certain three year old, even though she may have only vague
recollections of her time with Miss Karen when she grows up, will in turn
emulate Miss Karen as Miss Karen in life followed the example of Jesus Christ,
who now holds her in his arms forever.
And of course, there's a lesson here for us all. We don't have to go to extraordinary lengths
to make a real difference in the lives of others. We don't need to be wealthy, famous, or especially
educated to have a lifelong positive effect on others. We can just be ourselves...just be who we are
and use the gifts that God has given us...to cause profound and incredible
change in someone else's life. Miss
Karen and now just Mister Steve knows what it means to “bloom where you're
planted.” They know what it means to
share the love of Jesus Christ. They are
making their corner of the world a better place just by being themselves. They have been, and always will be, an
integral part of our Kansas City family.
I’ve finished reading a book printed in the mid 1980’s by
Cliff Schimmels called “I Was a High School Drop-in.” Dr. Schimmels, who has a Ph.D. in Educational
Philosophy, was a college professor who taught students how to be teachers in secondary
education. Sometimes, as he was
lecturing his students, he would realize that when he would teach his students
about this way or that way to motivate students to learn, he was only
guessing. As he says on the front
flyleaf of the book, “I really didn’t know what high school learners needed or
wanted from a teacher…I could never know for sure what was going through the
student’s mind.” So, he decided he would
become a student himself to see first hand what it was like being in high
school.
He got permission from a principal that he knew to enroll as
a freshman in high school. Teachers also
agreed to have him in class as a student.
Teachers were also instructed to treat him as any other student. Schimmels went through the enrollment
process, selected his classes, and started to school as a freshman, not knowing
anyone else in the school. His book is
an account of that six week time period when he was a student.
I didn’t have to go far into the book in order to pretty
much immediately pick up on the notion of perspective. As an educator, Schimmels had one perspective
on what it meant to teach and learn at the secondary level, and taught his own
students in that way. However, as a student
himself, lugging books, being assigned a seat in class, having to study and
take tests, navigating the crowded halls during breaks between classes,
enduring the physical education class, not having time for lunch, and all of
the other that goes with being a student, Schimmels gained a whole new
perspective on what it meant to be a student, and more importantly for him, on
what he needed to teach and emphasize to his own students at the college level.
He talks of the difficulties in making friends, doing the
correct assignments, finding time to read all that he is supposed to read, not
having time to shower after phys ed, getting demerits for not bringing his gym
clothes to class, standing in lines, understanding the confusing system used to
number classrooms, having to carry all of his books around all day because he
doesn’t have time between classes to go to his locker, and a myriad of other
things that adults may never see, but students are keenly aware of.
One incident stands out.
Schimmels was assigned a locker with a combination lock by the school already
on it, and was given the combination to open it. When, after several days he found his locker
and tried to open it, it would not open.
He tried several times, then asked a student passing by if he could
help. The student, a senior, tried as
well but couldn’t open it. They
concluded he had been given the wrong combination.
Schimmels went to the office to get the correct combination
and was told he needed the serial number imprinted on the back of the
lock. He went back to his locker and
found the number, but couldn’t read it because it was so small, and it was
likewise awkward to try to hold the lock up, read the number upside down, and
write it down all at the same time. He
accosted another older student who was going by, and asked him for help, saying
he couldn’t read the number. “Of course
you can’t,” the older student said. “You
take a piece of paper and a pencil and trace the numbers off onto the
paper.” Students, Schimmels said, have
ways of coping with the rules, procedures and annoyances that staff never sees
or understands.
What Schimmels is experiencing is a different perspective on
secondary education. His Ph.D. has given
him one perspective…his experience as a student has given him another,
sometimes completely different perspective on the same experience. Is one perspective correct and the other one
incorrect? No, they are both
correct. They are both valid. They come at the subject, however, from two
completely different viewpoints. And in
so doing they see things differently.
Perspective is present in virtually all of our interactions
with our world. It is shaped by our
world view and in turn helps to further shape our world view. Perspective is why eyewitnesses to the same
incident don’t always see the incident the same way. Perspective is why some people are Democrats;
some Republicans, and some are Independents or other political party
affiliations.
Perspective is what gives rise to differences of opinion in
a committee meeting, or between family members.
It is what drives discussions, debates, ideas, and opinions. Understanding that someone who may disagree
with you does so, not out of spite or evil intent, but because they are coming
at a topic from a different perspective is a great way to break down the
communication barriers and have a frank and open discussion of differences with
a goal of arriving at a mutual conclusion.
The old adage of walking a mile in someone else’s shoes
might be appropriate here. It means
before judging someone, you must understand his experiences, challenges,
thought processes, etc. Many times, the
best way to do that is to immerse oneself into a situation as best as one can,
much as Schimmels became a student in order to see what it was like from a
different perspective.
OK. I need to wrap
this up. Are you beginning to see the
value of appreciating the differing perspectives that relate to an issue? Are you beginning to understand that, “My way
or the highway,” is really a rather ignorant and selfish way of interacting
with the world? Giving grace to other
opinions and ideas is usually not weakness…rather, it is maturity and good
judgment. Giving grace provokes much
better and more productive discussion of ideas than bullying and
self-righteousness ever will.
Many people, with good intentions, try to help various
social ills such as homelessness, hunger, poverty, and the like. They come at the problem with their own
perspective of what needs to be done without actually understanding the issues
at hand. Before helping the homeless, it
might be good to have a better understanding of the homeless culture and all
that goes with that. In helping those
who are chronically hungry, perhaps it would be productive to talk with the
hungry, understand their struggles, and walk with them for a time as they work
just to survive.
And even in the arena of absolutes, where there is just one
Way and one Truth, and I’m thinking of the Christian here, gracefully and
lovingly discussing Truth with a seeker is much more powerful than forcefully
shoving that Truth upon a perspective that doesn’t yet see or perceive. Beating someone to death with the Truth only
results in a dead spirit and dying human being.
I applaud Dr. Schimmels for taking on the role of a high
school freshman in order to gain a different perspective. His teaching was forever changed by what he
experienced during that six-week period.
We too need to step out of our comfort zones…out of our
routine…and out of our world views and experience life through the lenses of
others. Those experiences will enable us
to give grace and forgiveness…qualities often sorely lacking in society today.
Good morning. I had a
Thursday Thought already prepared to record for today. The topic of that thought is
“Perspective.” And although it is, I
believe, pertinent to the tragic events of yesterday, my time and yours will be
better served with thoughts on the day just past.
At the outset, I need to tell you that I received much of the inspiration for this thought from something written by Joshua Hartswigsen, minister of the 151st Street Church of Christ in Olathe, Kansas. On this the last day of 2020, many of us in Christian ministry look back on the year with frustration, and look ahead to 2021 with concern. Why frustration? Why concern?
The frustration comes from being unable, due to safety and health restrictions, to have normal congregate worship services, classes, fellowships, small groups, and so on. These kinds of activities are planned specifically to provide opportunity for the church family to gather together, renew friendships, develop relationships, and strengthen each other.
The concern comes from the fact that when meeting restrictions are lifted, we know we will lose a good percentage of those who had been regular participants in these activities. There will be many who will have found something else to occupy their time and energy during the times that normally had been set aside for group meetings of the church family.
Barna research did a study on this very issue. I won’t go into a lot of the detail on how they conducted the research. The results were that about 30% of those who consider themselves to be practicing Christians and who agree strongly that faith is very important in their lives, did not attend services if their church continued to hold services, and furthermore did not take advantage of any church services that were on the Internet, either from their own congregation or from another. They essentially “dropped out” of church during the time of COVID in 2020. Now, what Barna did not know was whether or not these families conducted their own worship services at home or with other families. It’s entirely possible that some did.
But is attendance or viewing services on line a good measure of the faithfulness of a Christian? We know the Bible has a clear message about the importance of corporate worship and meeting together. I wonder, though, if we need to take a better look at the assumptions and beliefs we have about what it means to be a Christian.
Does being a Christian consist of regular church attendance, participation in Bible classes and small groups, and the occasional fellowship meal? Have we reduced what it means to be a Christian to a set of activities or boxes to be checked off?
Being a Christian is much more than checking off attendance and participation boxes. To be a Christian is to commit oneself to a lifestyle that mirrors the life of Jesus Christ. To be a Christian is to first love the Lord God with all of one’s heart, soul, mind, and strength. Further, Christian living embraces discipleship, humility, grace, forgiveness, patience, temperance, kindness, joy, hope, fellowship…in other words, puts to practice loving one’s neighbor as one loves oneself.
Perhaps we as church leaders have failed to properly teach and lead by example those in our charge. Perhaps all too often, we have emphasized checking off participation boxes rather than encouraging our members to emulate Jesus Christ. After all, it’s easier to check things off of a list than it is to do the hard work of living as Jesus lived.
While we in church leadership are rightly frustrated by the restrictions of the pandemic, and while we also are concerned about those who have dropped out of any church experience this year, we also need to take a good look at how we have presented the idea of “church” to our flocks. Do we present attendance and participation as the end-all and be-all of what it means to be a Christian? Or do we, without diminishing the importance of fellowship and participation, teach, practice, and exemplify love for God and love for one-another?
2021, hopefully, will be a year of renewal for the church,
and an encouragement for Christians everywhere to mirror the life of Jesus as
we navigate the unknown future. Yes, by
all means attend services if you can.
Participate in classes, gatherings, and other activities once the
restrictions are lifted. But above all,
be a man or woman of grace, humility, and kindness…one who loves the Lord God
with all of your being and loves others as you love yourself.
Today’s thought comes on Christmas Eve, 2020. I don’t know what your situation is right
now, and I don’t know how well you have fared during this extraordinary
year. Perhaps you have been pretty much
untouched by the viral pandemic, still have your income, and all is well with
you. On the other hand, you may have had
a loved one succumb to the virus, have lost your source of income, are six
months behind on your rent, and are wondering whether you will have enough to
eat tomorrow. Or you could find yourself
anywhere in between those two scenarios.
My words to you would be different, depending on where you
fall on the lifeline. However, one thing
remains the same for everyone, regardless.
This holiday, different from all of the others we celebrate,
offers us something that we all desperately need…hope. Even if you are comfortable now with good
health, good income, and good friends, just the fact that you’re human means
you also long for some intangibles…things that you can’t see, buy, or
touch. Hope is one of those things. Not hope in the sense of, “I hope it won’t
snow tomorrow,” but hope in the sense of the perception of something greater
than oneself that carries with it the promise of a better tomorrow. For those of us who are Christians, that hope
is found in Jesus the Christ.
Greater than ourselves…in fact the very God of the Universe,
Jesus Christ embodies the hope that we all so desperately crave. The promise of
forgiveness…renewal…acceptance…love…belonging…assurance…inheritance. Those things and more, all intangible, but
very, very real, are part of the hope that we find in the one whose birth we
celebrate during this holiday season.
So, as we gather together at this time in a kind of
enforced, distanced way, our thoughts need to be pointed toward the hope of
something better…something lasting…something eternally good. Yes, let’s all hope that 2021 will be a far
better year than 2020. Yes, let’s all
pray that healing will come quickly and that those who are in authority make
good decisions. Let’s all pray that
civility, humility, and generosity will prevail. But perhaps the best prayer of all is the one
found in one of the last verses of the last book in the Bible…”Amen, come Lord
Jesus.”
Good morning, and welcome to Thursday. A couple of days ago, the morning at the office began with seeing news reports of the first person in Great Britain to receive the COVID virus vaccine, heralding the beginning of what hopefully will be a slowdown of the spread of this insidious illness. The day then was punctuated by a shaking and jarring of the office by an earthquake…the epicenter of which was just a few miles away. Now, I hesitate to make any kind of connection with these two events, and in any case, any connection I might make would be pretty much a figment of my imagination…but let’s pursue this for just a moment.
In what was
surely a huge leap forward in the fight against Corona, the human race is
beginning the vaccination process that will, in all probability, greatly reduce
the chances of contracting this illness.
And even though multiple thousands of people have already received the
vaccine, those have all been volunteers in clinical studies to determine the
safety and efficacy of the vaccine. The
fact that someone in the general public received the vaccine outside of a
clinical study, and that many more will be vaccinated just today, and even more
in future days, bodes well for humanity.
It also is a shout-out to those scientists, doctors, and others who have
worked tirelessly this past year to bring a safe and effective product to the
human race.
On another
front, there was an earthquake in the Wichita area a couple of days ago. Tuesday, just a few minutes before 10am,
there was a deep-throated rumbling, accompanied by just a few seconds of minor
shaking. It was over pretty much before
anyone had time to process what had happened.
At first, I thought there was an accident at the intersection nearby, or
maybe a truck, crane, or some other large equipment had done something
unexpected. But it didn’t take long to
realize that it was really a minor earthquake.
Those things
have been coming on a rather regular basis for the past few weeks in this
area. I’m not sure of the cause, but
they always seem to be over in the eastern part of the county. And although there was some minor shaking and
rumbling, other than a sort of eerie feeling, things quickly got back to
normal.
However,
there is, I think, a lesson here, and it’s connected with the vaccination of
the English lady. There may be some
things we as the human race do well in terms of making life better for us
all. The COVID vaccine, along with many
other vaccines, have made it possible to live longer lives in better health
than at any time in history. We have
conquered smallpox. We are working to
eradicate other diseases, and our children no longer have to go through the
childhood illnesses of mumps, measles, and the like. Iron lungs are history.
Yet, there
are some things over which we have no control, and which remind us of our
limitations and inability to control every aspect of life and living. The earthquake, although minor in nature, was
that reminder. We cannot yet forecast
them with any kind of accuracy. We
cannot make them less destructive when they do occur, except to harden our
buildings and structures against them.
We have no way to generally prevent them, although we have found that we
can reduce their occurrence by limiting our injection of wastes into the
earth. Each earthquake is a sobering
reminder that humanity has a long way to go before it can claim to have tamed
its environment. And even if we do
manage to learn how to forecast and prevent earthquakes, there will always be
something over which we have no control and just have to live with and deal
with as it comes.
So, while
you are celebrating the coming of the COVID vaccine to the general population,
don’t get the smug head thinking that humankind has conquered all. The moving of the foundations of the earth
itself should bring you back into the reality of the fragility of life and our
dependence upon a God of mercy and grace…a God who told Job,
Where were
you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Who
marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid
its cornerstone—“Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the
womb? Have you ever given orders to the
morning, or shown the dawn its place,
“Have you
journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep?
Have the
gates of death been shown to you? Have
you seen the gates of the deepest darkness? Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the
earth? “What is the way to the abode of
light? And where does darkness reside?
“Have you
entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I
reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle? What is the way to the place where the
lightning is dispersed, or the place where the east winds are scattered over
the earth? Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain, and
a path for the thunderstorm, to water a land where no one lives, an uninhabited
desert, to satisfy a desolate wasteland and make it sprout with grass?
“Can you
bind the chains of the Pleiades? Can you
loosen Orion’s belt? Can you bring forth
the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? Do you
know the laws of the heavens? Do you
send the lightning bolts on their way?
So, as we
cheer humanity’s successes, let us also understand humanity’s limitations, and
give God the
Go your way
today and be blessed in the knowledge of God’s providential love and grace.
Anne Lamott, an American novelist and non-fiction writer,
posts an article on Facebook that she wrote several years ago regarding
Advent. She tells of her quest to find
within herself the hope of renewal that Advent promises. She talks of the belief that if we have
enough hope and kindness, that will lead to a better world, one person at a
time. And that even though times may be
tough and disappointing, in her words, “We stay
awake and watch, holding to the belief that God is with us, is close and
present, and that we will be healed.”
Terry,
as it turned out, had been sober for five years at that point, so Tom thought
he was God. They made arrangements to go
to a place Terry knew of where alcoholic men gathered that night in the back of
the Episcopal Cathedral, right in the heart of downtown L.A. It was Terry’s
favorite gathering, full of low-bottom drunks and junkies — people from nearby
halfway houses, bikers, jazz musicians. “Plus it’s a men’s stag meeting,” says
Tom. “So already I’ve got issues.”
“There
I am on my first date with this new friend Terry, who turns out to not be real
chatty. He’s clumsy and ill at ease, an introvert with no social skills, but
the cardinal has heard that he’s also good with newly sober people. He asks me how I am, and after a long moment,
I say, ‘I’m just scared,’ and he nods and says gently, ‘That’s right.’
“I
don’t know a thing about him, Tom says. I
don’t what sort of things he thinks about or who he votes for, but he takes me
to this place near skid row, where all these awful looking alkies are hanging
out in the yard, waiting for something to start. I’m tense, I’m just staring. It’s a whole bunch of strangers, all of them
clearly very damaged — working their way back slowly, but not yet real
attractive. The sober people I've met back
in Berkeley all seem like David Niven in comparison, and I’m thinking, Who are
these people? Why am I here? All my scanners are out. It’s all I can do not
to bolt.
“Ten
minutes before we began, Terry directs me to a long flight of stairs heading up
to a windowless, airless room. I started
walking up the stairs, with my jaws clenched, muttering to myself tensely just
like the guy in front of me, this guy my own age who was stumbling and numb and
maybe not yet quite on his first day of sobriety.
“The
only things getting me up the stairs are Terry, behind me, pushing me forward
every so often, and this conviction I have that this is as bad as it’s ever
going to be — that if I can get through this, I can get through anything. Well.
All of a sudden, the man in front of me soils himself. I guess his sphincter just relaxes. Feces runs down onto his shoes, but he keeps
walking. He doesn’t seem to notice.
However,
I do.
I
clapped a hand over my mouth and nose, and my eyes bugged out but I couldn’t
get out of line because of the crush behind me.
And so, holding my breath, I walk into the windowless, airless room.
“Now,
this meeting has a person who stands at the door saying hello. And this one is a biker with a shaved head, a
huge gut and a Volga boatman mustache.
He gets one whiff of the man with feces on his shoes and throws up all
over everything.
“You’ve
seen the Edvard Munch painting of the guy on the bridge screaming, right? That’s me.
That’s what I look like. But
Terry enters the room right behind me.
And there’s total pandemonium, no one knows what to do. The man who had soiled himself stumbles
forward and plops down in a chair. A fan
blows the terrible smells of feces and vomit around the windowless room, and people start smoking just to fill in the
spaces in the air. Finally Terry reaches
out to the greeter, who had thrown up.
He puts his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Wow,”
he says. “Looks like you got caught by surprise.” And they both laugh. Right?
Terry asks a couple of guys to go with him down the hall to the men’s
room, and help this guy get cleaned up.
There are towels there, and kitty litter, to absorb various effluvia,
because this is a meeting where people show up routinely in pretty bad shape. So while they’re helping the greeter get
cleaned up, other people start cleaning up the meeting room. Then Terry
approaches the other man.
“My
friend,” he says gently, “it looks like you have trouble here.”
The
man just nods.
“We’re
going to give you a hand,” says Terry.
“So
three men from the recovery house next door help him to his feet, walk him to
the halfway house and put him in the shower.
They wash his clothes and shoes and give him their things to wear while
he waits. They give him coffee and
dinner, and they give him respect. I talked
to these other men later, and even though they had very little sobriety, they
did not cast this other guy off for not being well enough to be there. Somehow this broken guy was treated like one
of them, because they could see that he was one of them. No one was pretending he wasn’t covered with feces,
but there was a real sense of kinship.
And that is what we mean when we talk about grace.
“Back
at the meeting at the Episcopal Cathedral, Tom said, I was just totally amazed
by what I had seen. And I had a little
shred of hope. I couldn’t have put it
into words, but until that meeting, I had thought that I would recover with men
and women like myself; which is to say, overeducated, fun to be with and
housebroken. And that this would happen
quickly and efficiently. But I was
wrong. So I’ll tell you, Anne, what the
promise of Advent is: It is that God has
set up a tent among us and will help us work together on our stuff. And this
will only happen over time.
This
is Jay again. In the Advent story, WE
are the ones who have thrown up all over ourselves. WE are the stumbling ones covered in feces. And God is the one who, like Terry, reaches
out to us, loves us, touches us, cleans us up, and adopts us into His family.
I'm going to start posting the text of my Facebook weekly Thursday videos here. I should have been doing this all along, but of course I never saved the texts...just the videos. Here's the one for Thanksgiving Day.
This week, I’ll not regale you with my thoughts on a
particular subject as I normally do.
Instead, I’ll leave you with encouragement to truly take stock of life
and living, with the idea of concentrating on those things for which you are grateful.
It is said that the more things and resources we have, the
more we tend to gripe and complain about those things we don’t have. And that some of the most grateful and
thankful people are those who have very little in the way of things and resources.
If you have a place inside to sleep at night; if you are
relatively warm in the winter; if you have food to eat; if you have people in
your life who you call friends or better yet, loved ones…you really have no
reason to complain or gripe.
Enjoy this time of the year when we give thanks not only for
the temporal and material, but also for the eternal and spiritual. God is.
God lives. And God
loves…you. Blessings.
Percentage |
Conspiracy
Believed |
---|---|
54%
|
The
“one percent” of the wealthiest Americans secretly control
the government.
|
50%
|
Jeffrey
Epstein was murdered to conceal his activities.
|
45%
|
Genetically
modified food dangers are being hidden from the public.
|
43%
|
An
extra-judicial deep state is secretly embedded in the government.
|
37%
|
Mr.
Trump colluded with Russia to steal the 2016 election and is a
Russian asset.
|
28%
|
Hillary
Clinton provided nuclear material to Russia
|
20%
|
Mr.
Obama faked his American citizenship.
|
29%
|
The
threat of COVID 19 is being exaggerated to hurt Mr. Trump's
chances at re-election.
|
31%
|
The
COVID 19 virus was created and spread on purpose.
|
15%
|
School
shootings are “fake news.”
|
15%
|
The
number of Jews killed in the holocaust has been exaggerated.
|
30%
|
The
dangers of vaccines have been concealed.
|
26%
|
The
dangers of 5G technology have been concealed.
|