Clay Christensen on Religious Freedom

 

The views in this video do not necessarily 

represent the views of the Harvard Business School.

Clayton Christensen

American economist

Description

Description

Clayton Magleby Christensen was an American academic and business consultant who developed the theory of "disruptive innovation", which has been called the most influential business idea of the early 21st century. Wikipedia

Born: April 6, 1952, Salt Lake City, UT

Died: January 23, 2020, Boston, MA

GRATITUDE

This Film Shaped "Everyone Matters": 

GRATITUDE by Louie Schwartzberg

Six minutes of PROFOUND BLISS.

Life-changing, in its eye-opening truth.

Dear Father in heaven . . .

This is so old, it’s before there was even email.  But I found it in my papers and am forwarding it to you.  The first time I heard this awesome prayer was in 1984.  A young adult was kneeled in front of the table and Heavenly Father’s voice came over the PA.  It was so awesome, I remember it as if it was yesterday!  Enjoy!

Dear Father in heaven . . .

     Yes?

Don't interrupt me. I'm saying my prayers.

     But you called My name.

Called you? I didn't call you! I'm just saying my prayers. Where was I? Oh, yes.... My Dear Father in heaven......

     There, you did it again.

Did what?

     Called my name. You said "My dear Father in Heaven".  Here I am. What's on your mind?

I didn't mean anything by that; I was just....you know, saying my prayers for the night. I always say my prayers--- it makes me feel good. Kind of like getting my duty done.

     Your duty? All right. Go ahead.

I'm thankful for my many blessings.....

      Hold on a minute there. How thankful are you?

What???

      How thankful are you for your many blessings?

I'm ... well .... I don't know. How should I know? It's just part of the prayer. Everyone always said I should express my thanks.

      Oh. Well, you're welcome. Go ahead.

Go ahead?

      Yes. Go ahead with the prayer.

Okay.... let's see....  Bless the poor and the sick and the needy and the afflicted . . .

     Do you really mean that?

Well, sure I really mean it.

     What are you doing about it?

Who, me? What do you mean what am I doing? Nothing, I guess. I just think it would be nice if you got control of things down here, like you have up there, so people don't to have suffer so much.

      Have I got control of you?

Well, I go to church. I pay my tithes.

      That isn't what I asked you. I asked if I have control of you?

Well, sure. I guess so.

      What about your temper? You have a real problem there, and your friends and family suffer from it. And then there's the way you spend your money so selfishly. And how about the kinds of books you read?

Stop picking on me! I'm just as good as some of those others I see in church every Sunday.

      Excuse me. I thought you were praying for me to bless the needy. If that is going to happen, I'll have to have help from those who are praying for it, like you.

Look, Father. I need to finish up here. This is taking a lot longer than usual. Bless the missionaries to be led to the doors of the honest in heart.

      You mean someone like Ralph?

Ralph? Ralph who?

      Ralph---The guy around the corner.

Oh, that Ralph. But he smokes and drinks and never goes to church.

     Have you looked into his heart lately?

Of course not! How can I look into his heart?

      I can. His is one of those honest hearts you were just praying about.

Okay, well, then - get the missionaries over there.

      Aren't YOU supposed to be a missionary? I thought I had made that pretty clear.

Hey, wait a minute! What is this, anyway? Criticize me day? Here I am, just trying to do my duty. And then all of the sudden you break in and start reminding me of all my faults.

      Well, you called me. And here I am. But go on, keep praying. I really like this next part. You haven't changed the order around, have you? Go ahead.

No, I don't want to.

      Why not?

Because I know what you'll say.

      Try me and see.

Okay, okay already! Please forgive me of all my sins, and help me to forgive others.

     What about Bill?

See, I knew you'd bring him up. Listen, Lord: he told all kinds of lies about me, and got me fired! All my co-workers think I'm a creep, and I didn't do anything! I'm going to get even with him!

      But what about your prayer? Didn't you just ask me to help you forgive others?

I didn't mean it!

      Well, at least you're being honest. I guess you just enjoy carrying that load of bitterness around, don't you?

No, I don't. But I'll feel better as soon as I get even with him.

     No, you won't. You'll feel worse. Listen to me: You forgive Bill, and I will forgive you.

But Lord, I can't forgive Bill!

      Then I can't forgive you.

No matter what?

      No matter what. But go on, you aren't finished with your prayer yet.

Oh, all right! Please help me control my feelings, and not give in to temptation.

      Good, good. I'll do all that. But you have to stop putting yourself in all those places where you can be tempted.

What do you mean by that?

      Quit hanging around the magazine racks and spending so much time in front of the tube! Some of that stuff is going to get you sooner or later. You'll find yourself in a mess before too long.  And don't use me for an escape hatch, either.

What do you mean, an escape hatch? I don't understand...

     Sure you do. You've done it lots of times - You find yourself in a crisis, then you come running to me. You promise me, "Lord, help me out of this mess, and I promise I'll never do it again." It's really amazing how the quality and quantity of your prayers improves when you are in trouble. Do you remember some of those bargains you tried to make with me?

Well, no. I don't think.  Oh, yeah, Like the time Mom's friend saw me coming out of that dirty movie?

      That's one. Do you remember your prayer? I do. You promised that if she didn't tell your Mom where you'd been, you'd go to nothing but "G" rated movies from then on. She didn't tell your Mom, but you didn't keep your promise, did you?

No, Lord. I didn't. I'm sorry.

      So am I. Now go ahead and finish your prayer.

Wait a minute. I have a question: Do you always listen to my prayers?

      Every word, every time.

Then how come you never talked to me before?

      How many chances have you ever given me to talk to you? There's not enough time between your "Amen" and your snores for me to get a word in edgewise. How am I supposed to give you an answer?

You could, if you really wanted to.

      No, I could, if YOU really wanted me to! My child, I always want to talk to you!

I'm sorry, Father. Will you forgive me?

      I already have. And thanks for letting me interrupt you tonight. I get lonely to talk to you sometimes. Goodnight, my child. I love you.

Good night, God. I love you, too.

Prayer - Remembering the Military

Andy Rooney and Prayer

Andy Rooney says:
I don't believe in Santa Claus, but I'm not going to sue somebody for singing a Ho-Ho-Ho song in December. I don't agree with Darwin , but I didn't go out and hire a lawyer when my high school teacher taught his Theory of Evolution.
Life, liberty or your pursuit of happiness will not be endangered because someone says a 30-second prayer before a football game. So what's the big deal? It's not like somebody is up there reading the entire Book of Acts. They're just talking to a God they believe in and asking him to grant safety to the players on the field and the fans going home from the game.
But it's a Christian prayer, some will argue.
Yes, and this is the United States of America and Canada , countries founded on Christian principles. According to our very own phone book, Christian churches outnumber all others better than 200-to-1. So what would you expect -- somebody chanting Hare Krishna?
If I went to a football game in Jerusalem , I would expect to hear a Jewish prayer.
If I went to a soccer game in Baghdad , I would expect to hear a Muslim prayer.
If I went to a ping pong match in China , I would expect to hear someone pray to Buddha.

And I wouldn't be offended. It wouldn't bother me one bit.
When in Rome .....
But what about the atheists? Is another argument.
What about them? Nobody is asking them to be baptized. We're not going to pass the collection plate. Just humour us for 30 seconds. If that's asking too much, bring a Walkman or a pair of ear plugs. Go to the bathroom. Visit the concession stand. Call your lawyer!
Unfortunately, one or two will make that call. One or two will tell thousands what they can and cannot do. I don't think a short prayer at a football game is going to shake the world's foundations.

Christians are just sick and tired of turning the other cheek while our courts strip us of all our rights. Our parents and grandparents taught us to pray before eating, to pray before we go to sleep. Our Bible tells us to pray without ceasing. Now a handful of people and their lawyers are telling us to cease praying.

God, help us. And if that last sentence offends you, well, just sue me.

The silent majority has been silent too long. It's time we tell that one or two who scream loud enough to be heard that the vast majority doesn't care what they want. It is time that the majority rules! It's time we tell them, "You don't have to pray; you don't have to say the Pledge of Allegiance; you don't have to believe in God or attend services that honour Him. That is your right, and we will honour your right; but by golly, you are no longer going to take our rights away. We are fighting back, and we WILL WIN!"

God bless us one and all...Especially those who denounce Him, God bless America and Canada , despite all our faults, We are still the greatest nations of all. God bless our service men who are fighting to protect our right to pray and worship God.

Let's make 2011 the year the silent majority is heard and we put God back as the foundation of our families and institutions. And our military forces come home from all the wars.
Keep looking up.


August 2011

A Dad's Story

As I frequently do, I turned to the internet to check this story out and what I found was most interesting. The story below is a very good (true) story that will touch your heart. But there is more.

What circulates as a shortened form of “A Dad’s Story” was originally named “Free The Birdies”, a title that aptly described the thrust of the unabridged account. It was penned in 1994 by Lloyd Glenn, a Mormon then living in Mission Viejo, CA, about the accident that befell his son Brian, on July 22, 1993.

Read the story below then go to this page: Click Here for more info
to read the rest of the story. At the beginning of the page, is starts with the same story below. Scroll down the page and start with “origins” and I think you will find it very interesting.

A DAD' S STORY 

On July 22nd I was en route to Washington , DC , for a business trip.  

It was all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the overhead locker, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn (that’s me) to see the United Customer Service Representative immediately. 

I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave the plane and I heard a gentleman asking every male if he were Mr. Glenn. At this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk.  

When I got off the plane, a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said, "Mr.Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you can call the hospital."  

My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. 

Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital . My call was put through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes and that when my wife had found him he was dead. CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital. 

By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her calmness. 

The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage door had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little son laying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere. He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream. I was filled-in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. 

Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time would tell if his brain received any damage.  

Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious.. It seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before. 

Finally at two o'clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken.  He said, "Daddy hold me" and he reached for me with his little arms. 

By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine, when we took Brian home, we felt a unique reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who brush death so closely. 

In the days that followed, there was a special spirit about our home.
Our two older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. 

Perspective seemed to be more focused and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.
The story is not over (smile)! 

Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon nap and said, "Sit down Mommy.. I have something to tell you". At this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed, and he began his sacred and remarkable story. 

"Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to you but you couldn't hear me. I started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then the ' birdies ' came." 

"The birdies?" my wife asked puzzled.

Yes," he replied. "The birdies made a whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me". 

"They did?" 

"Yes," he said. "One of the birdies came and got you.  She came to tell you 'I got stuck under the door'.

A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air.  My wife realized that a three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from beyond as "birdies" because they were up in the air like birds that fly.

"What did the birdies look like?" she asked. 

Brian answered, "They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white, all white. Some of them had green and white. But some of them had on just white." 

"Did they say anything?" 

"Yes," he answered. "They told me the baby would be all right".

"The baby"? my wife asked confused. 

Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor".

He went on, "You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave".

My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this,  for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian's body and seeing his crushed chest whispered, "Don't leave us Brian, please stay if you can".

As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left his body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form.

"Then what happened"?  she asked. 

"We went on a trip," he said, "far, far away".

He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn't seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him know it would be okay.  He struggled with wanting to tell something that obviously was very important to him, but finding the words was difficult. 

"We flew so fast up in the air. They're so pretty Mommy," he added. 

"And there are lots and lots of birdies"?

My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to tell her that the "birdies" had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the "birdies".  He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire truck and an ambulance were there. A man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby would be okay.

The story went on for an hour. 

He taught us that "birdies" were always with us, but we don't see them because we look with our eyes and we don't hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there, you can only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart).  They whisper the things to help us to do what is right because they love us so much.

Brian continued, stating, "I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan.  Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help us to do that cause they love us so much".

In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of it, again and again.  Always the story remained the same.  The details were never changed or out of order.  A few times he added further bits of information and clarified the message he had already delivered.  It never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies. 

Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the "birdies".

Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their face and smiled. 

Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be. 

You have an Angel to watch over you.  Some people come into our lives and quickly go.  Some people become friends and stay a while . . . leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts ... and we are never quite the same because we have made a good friend.

The Smell of Rain

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the Doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. Still groggy from surgery, her husband David held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news.

That afternoon of March 10,1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24 weeks pregnant, to Danae Lu Blessing. At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound and nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs.

"I don't think she's going to make it", he said, as kindly as he could.

"There's only a 10 percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one".

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

"No! No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.

Through the dark hours of morning as Danae held onto life by the thinnest thread, Diana slipped in and out of sleep, growing more and more determined that their tiny daughter would live, and live to be a healthy, happy young girl. But David, fully awake and listening to additional dire details of their daughter's chances of ever leaving the hospital alive, much less healthy, knew he must confront his wife with the inevitable.

David walked in and said that we needed to talk about making funeral arrangements. Diana remembers - I felt so bad for him because he was doing everything, trying to include me in what was going on, but I just wouldn't listen, I couldn't listen.

I said, "No, that is not going to happen, no way! I don't care what the doctors say; Danae is not going to die! One day she will be just fine, and she will be coming home with us"!

As if willed to live by Diana's determination, Danae clung to life hour after hour, with the help of every medical machine and marvel her miniature body could endure. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. 

Because Danae's under-developed nervous system was essentially raw, the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. At last, when Danae turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later-though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero. 

Danae went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Today, five years later, Danae is a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She shows no signs, whatsoever, of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she is everything a little girl can be and more - but that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ballpark where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always, Danae was chattering non-stop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent. Hugging her arms across her chest, Danae asked, "Do you smell that?"

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it smells like rain."

Danae closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?"

Once again, her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet, it smells like rain".

Still caught in the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae then happily hopped down to play with the other children.

Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

If you would like more info on this story Click Here

The Teacher Applicant

After being interviewed by the school administration, the teaching prospect said, "Let me see if I've got this right: "You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning. You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride?"

"You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job. You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the state exams?"

"You want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents by letter, telephone, email, newsletter, and report card?"

"You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps?"

"You want me to do all this and then you tell me . . . I CAN'T PRAY?"

Prayer at the Opening Session of the Kansas Senate

Thought you might enjoy this interesting prayer given in Kansas at the opening session of their Senate. It seems prayer still upsets some people. When Minister Joe Wright was asked to open the new session of the Kansas Senate, everyone was expecting the usual generalities, but this is what they heard:

"Heavenly Father, we come before you today to ask your forgiveness and to seek your direction and guidance. We know Your Word says, 'Woe to those who call evil good,' but that is exactly what we have done.

We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values.

We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery.

We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare.

We have killed our unborn and called it choice.

We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable.

We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self esteem.

We have abused power and called it politics.

We have coveted our neighbor's possessions and called it ambition.

We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression.

We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment.

Search us, Oh, God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and set us free.

Amen!"

The response was immediate. A number of legislators walked out during the prayer in protest. In 6 short weeks, Central Christian Church, where Rev. Wright is pastor, logged more than 5,000 phone calls with only 47 of those calls responding negatively. The church is now receiving international requests for copies of this prayer from India, Africa and Korea .

Commentator Paul Harvey aired this prayer on his radio program, "The Rest of the Story,"and received a larger response to this program than any other he has ever aired.

With the Lord's help, may this prayer sweep over our nation and wholeheartedly become our desire so that we again can be called "one nation under God."

"If you don't stand for something, you will fall for everything."