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The idea of a Sovereign God and luck are mutually exclusive concepts. Consequently, since God surely exists, luck does not. Yet people still believe in luck—lucky charms, fetishes as forms of luck, even magic.

Luck is still very much a part of our arguably sophisticated yet arguably superstitious culture. In surveys year after year ninety plus percent of us say we believe in God, but we hold onto our fantasies too. We go to church and wish people “Good Luck” in the same week. Too bad, because being luck-less is better than you think.

If luck doesn’t exist we’re liberated from thinking outside forces arbitrarily control our lives. We’re liberated from thinking that no matter what we do, it really doesn’t matter.

Belief in luck is a central part of America’s fascination with gambling. Increasing numbers of Americans gamble as an expression of their worldview. They believe in luck, that life is a big lottery of chance, and that if they gamble enough, long enough, their ship will come in.

But have you heard the one about the “Lucky gambler” who drove to Las Vegas in a $70,000 Mercedes and got to ride home in a $350,000 bus?


Read more about Why We’re Never Lucky.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow Dr. Rogers at

Airlines and airports could greatly improve customer relations by offering a few, comparatively inexpensive amenities.

-Free WiFi. Many airports already provide this helpful service. Others are still hanging on, like expensive hotels, to fees in the neighborhood of $9.95 per day. But who needs it for an entire day? And for the money the airport makes versus the public goodwill this amenity would inspire, it’s a no brainer.

-Make jet communication systems comprehensible. It’s amazing. We can fly a jet full of people around the world, but we can’t make an intercom that works. Poor com systems are a lot more prevalent than you’d think.

-Uninstall so-called safety beepers on transport carts. I know this is Federal law, not airport policy, but the noise pollution these infernal beepers introduce is incredible. And for what? Before they were installed how many people were hit by carts? If they were removed, how many incidents, really, would airports experience each year? Not many. Why can’t we depend more on the common sense of drivers and walkers than on nanny-government oversight?

-Offer Cell Phone-Free Zones. Sounds impractical Ior impossible, but airports are now offering glass-enclosed rooms for smokers. Why not rooms for workers who want to focus without the benefit of someone sitting beside them who initiates a loud-voiced cell phone call? Interestingly, some airline clubs, like Delta’s Sky Club, offer such rooms adorned with a sign featuring a red-circled cell phone with a line through it, i.e. No Cell Phones. So you think, “Great, a noise free room.” Think again. All these rooms feature large flat screen televisions turned on and turned up.

-More Electrical Receptacles. The number of available receptacles is growing but not by much. Some airports offer posts of receptacles, but these are few and far between. Some older airports don’t seem to have any receptacles for the public. Like free WiFi, this is a modern convenience. Virtually everyone is virtual, or wants to be, so why not grant them the power to charge phones and connect online in between flights?

American airlines and airports are already falling behind international counterparts in how they treat customers and what’s considered reasonable support for travelers. These adjustments would help. Any one of these amenities would make for happier fliers. Sure, they all cost something, but the trade-off in customer goodwill would be substantial.

>Posted in Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport without power and without free WiFi.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow Dr. Rogers at

What’s gotten into CNN is anybody’s guess. CNN’s new soon-to-air program, “Parker-Spitzer,” features in tandem conservative journalist Kathleen Parker and former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer. Yes, that Spitzer, the one who in 2008 resigned his position in disgrace in the wake of news stories regaling us about his visits to a prostitute, what he paid her, and possibly how he transported her across state lines for sex.

This is the Eliot Spitzer who opted out in order to avoid answering for a boatload of allegations of immoral and illegal behavior. And this is the man who opted out with his poor wife standing beside him in obvious emotional distress.

Another question might be what in the world is Kathleen Parker thinking? She’s a respected conservative columnist who, until now, was admired for her rational approach to politics and decision-making. Why she would stoop to this kind of gimmickry is perplexing. Having recently won the Pulitzer Prize for commentary she doesn’t need this program either to be heard or to be successful.

I’m not opposed to giving Spitzer a so-called second chance. But I haven’t read or heard any testimonials claiming he’s sorry, repentant, changed his ways, or is a better man for his self-generated ordeal. He didn’t make a “mistake,” as some claim. He made a serious error in moral judgment, repeatedly. Now, all we get is a man whose naughtiness has increased his celebrity factor. This seems to be what CNN is banking on more than on any claim of special journalistic or political chops.

Maybe CNN thinks tainted celebrity translates to ratings increases. But I doubt it. CNN isn’t traversing bold new ground. It’s jumping the shark.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow Dr. Rogers at


Our high school was a new-fangled thing called “consolidated”—combining five smaller high schools into a small high school. We didn’t have drugs, much less “do” them. Alcohol, yes—that was always the excitement Friday and the big news Monday. Didn’t understand the giddiness then and don’t understand it now. But we didn’t have hard drugs. Narcotics came to my high school during the next years after I left.

High school in Small Town was a time when we all figured out a little bit more about who we were and who we hoped to be. We all wanted to be cool, at least that was true of the boys. Girls were harder to understand, then and now.

It’s hard to be cool, though, when your Latin teacher calls you “Rexy.” In fact, it’s hard to be cool taking Latin. Mrs. Burns called me that Freshman year, the next three years till I graduated, and for all I know till the day she went to heaven. Part Latin teacher, part Librarian, she taught the classics and was herself a model of all that’s classic in high school teacher-dom.

In Mrs. Burns’s class I learned—I kid you not—“Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” in Latin. Sure, I learned to conjugate Latin verbs—porto, portas, portat, portabam, portabas, portabat—but I’ve forgotten most of them.

I haven’t forgotten:

“Mica, mica, parva stella,
Miror quaenam sis tam bella.
Super terra in caelo,
Alba gemma splendido.
Mica, mica, parva stella,
Miror quaenam sis tam bella.”

Yes, Mrs. Burns forever bequeathed to me the ability to recite “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” in Latin.

Our high school algebra teacher was Mrs. Crevey. She was as wide as she was tall, taught us everything we needed to know about algebra, and we were afraid of her. The idea of being “afraid” of a teacher seems quaint, but it’s true nonetheless, and I don’t mind admitting it. She was as good a person as she was a teacher. We learned a lot more from her than algebra.

I remember a high school P.E. Teacher who was little more than an over-large bully. Big voice, big strut, big nose, big ego, big nuisance. He lasted long enough for us to learn some adults never grow up.

Our high school quarterback was Dominic Capers, a couple of years older than me and a multi-sport athlete who went on to a career in the NFL. Today he’s the highly respected Defensive Coordinator for the Green Bay Packers.

Our cheerleaders actually cheered. No choreography. No sensual moves, not really, let alone the semi-exotic dance that passes for cheerleading in some school districts today. Kids think “current” is normal, which is to say erotica at times transposed onto cheerleading, so kids do whatever prevailing culture urges them to do. But where are their parents who know better?


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow Dr. Rogers at


It can’t get much more spiritually strategic than the Middle East. The birthplace of civilization and Christianity, the central player in the biblical prophecy of the end times, the Middle East is in the news every day.

Sure, every human being and therefore every region in which they live are important to the Lord. This we know is sound biblical theology. But the Middle East is different, special, and significant in God’s plan.

This is why SAT-7, a Middle East Christian satellite television ministry, broadcasts throughout the region around the clock in Arabic, Farsi, and Turkish.

It is a region dominated by religion, rulers, and regimes, resulting in some of the most closed countries of the world. Yet there is great spiritual opportunity.

500+ million people, 1 million added every month, some 100 million under the age of 15, 60% under the age of 25, the Middle East is growing younger by the minute. This is the now-and-future door the Lord is opening.

Young people, by definition, think new thoughts, forge their own way, want to be different from the generation before them. Youth throughout the Middle East are weary of unemployment, lack of access to economic opportunities, restrictive social codes, oppressive government and religion. They are seeking.

Every day, SAT-7 KIDS, the only channel like it in the world, beams Christian principles and teaching and lifestyle to Arabic youth in the Middle East, North Africa, and Europe. SAT-7 KIDS portrays and offers a different way, actually, what Scripture calls the Way.

While the Church, churches, Christianity, and Christians are under great pressure in the Middle East, yet there is hope in Christ.

I work with SAT-7 because I believe in its vision and mission. Satellite television is accessible to most, cannot be censored, and is a perfect technological tool for reaching a population in which more than 50% are functionally illiterate. Those who could not read a verse of the Bible if you could get one to them can, nevertheless, watch and listen to Christian television. SAT-7 brings together technology, theology, and timeliness in a manner that opens doors to hearts.

I do not know if the Lord will send a revival to the Middle East in my lifetime, but I do believe he will do so. The kids are open.

"Look at the nations and watch, and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told” Habakkuk 1:5.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow Dr. Rogers at

In our town Small Town we were Protestant and Catholic with a sprinkling of Greek Orthodox. That was about it. We understood that certain church doctrines distinguished one from the other, but in our town back then, in day-to-day life we were more alike than different.

Our pastor was Rev. Harold House, a man more widely known as Howdy House. Another great name from our Small Town. What better name could a pastor have than Howdy? He’d been a newspaper journalist in his early years. I remember him as a kind and good pastor who preached the word in season and out.

Pastor was there to greet me when I went forward at age 9 to say I wanted to be baptized. He was also there when I stepped into the waters of the baptistery a short time later. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Pastor Howdy put me under the water, brought me part of the way back up, then put me under again and shook me. I’m not kidding. I don’t know if he thought I hadn’t gotten entirely “immersed” in good Baptist fashion, whether he was enjoying his own inside joke, or whether he was trying to take me out. But I got thoroughly baptized that day.

I grew up in a time when churches held Wednesday night prayer services. Pastor would do a short Bible study, than people would pray over requests and praises. Or maybe it was the other way around. In either event one lady stands out. I’ll call her Ms. F.

Ms. F prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed. I mean she prayed interminably, at least it seemed that way to a kid. Forever, prayed for every missionary we’d ever heard of, prayed for everyone on the sick list, Ms. F prayed and prayed some more. She even quoted God’s Word to God, thinking perhaps he’d forgotten what he’d said. To my knowledge Ms. F’s prayers were sincere, so I don’t want to make fun at her expense. It was just tough for a kid to sit through prayers that lasted longer than the incidents prayed about. One thing’s for sure, though. Ms. F was a classic Small Town character and I learned a lot during those mid-week prayer services about the methodology of public prayer.

Mr. P also offered prayers for the ages. He was one of the co-founders of our church and had a white pompadour to make Porter Wagoner jealous.

Then there was Mr. and Mrs. W, both elderly, faithful, white coiffed. Coolest thing to a kid? They drove a shiny, black, probably 1960 Plymouth Savoy with huge fender wings. It was the batmobile pulling up in front of our church every service. Glorious to a kid.

Another Small Town character lived down the street from the church—Mrs. S. Her claim to fame is that, as far as we could ever tell, she never wore anything, ever, except a bathrobe. You’d see her at all hours of the day, on her porch, in her yard, going for the paper, in a bathrobe. There’s sometimes a fine line between lazy and leisurely. Determining which description fit Mrs. S is above my pay grade.

Church and characters populated the landscape in Small Town. There are fewer churches, fewer characters, and fewer small towns now.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow Dr. Rogers at