Harper took hold of the debris I clung to. His face was pale, his lips blue from imminent hyperthermia, above the sound of the turmoil around me though his voice was weakening I heard him ask, “Are you saved?” I replied, “No.” Harper shouted the words, “Believe in the Lord Jesus and you shall be saved.” Even in my desperation, something in me wanted to reject his offer. Waves drifted us apart, but a few minutes later the current brought us together. In one final attempt to persuade me to accept the remedy for my lost soul, again Harper shouted, “Are you saved?” He asked me to believe in Jesus. Then he slipped under the waves for the last time, never to be seen in this world again. 

Like me, you may never have heard of John Harper. It was a surprise for me to discover that he played a pivotal role in helping many people caught up in an event that has captured the imaginations of countless millions. It was the sinking of the Titanic.
With his “six-year-old daughter [Annie], and his sister, he boarded the Titanic… for the privilege of preaching at one of the greatest churches in America, Moody Church in Chicago, named for its famous founder Dwight L. Moody.”
Deadly Disaster
This disaster occurred during the ship’s maiden voyage across the Northern Atlantic Ocean from Southampton, England to the USA on the night of 14 April 1912. As it steamed at a top speed of 22 mph through calm Atlantic waters, it sideswiped a large iceberg that loomed out of the darkness at about 11.40 p.m.
The collision resulted in catastrophic damage to the starboard side. The ship dubbed the ‘unsinkable’ eventually sank to the bottom of the ocean in under three hours, with the loss of over 1,500 of its 2,224 passengers! The rest were taken on board the limited number of the ship’s lifeboats.

Selfless Solicitude

Recently, I discovered a part of this story totally unknown to me. As I recount what happened, I hope you’ll allow me to use some sanctified imagination. We begin “four years after the tragedy at a Titanic survivors’ meeting in Ontario, Canada, where one survivor recounted his interaction with Harper in the middle of the icy waters of the Atlantic.”
My name is Steve Crain. Like many of you here, I am one of the survivors of the sinking of RMS Titanic. Today I want to honour one man whose heroic actions changed the future of my life.
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It is a sobering thing to consider that there are potentially worlds and stars and entire universes that God has made for just Himself. Realms beyond the peeping eyes of men and angels – for Him, and Him alone to enjoy. I would encourage you, dear reader, to spend some time in the book of Job, particularly chapters 38-41. In it, God answers Job “out of the whirlwind” and presents an astonishing account of Himself, one of majesty coupled with profound intimacy. He is Lord of the morning stars, the Father of the rain, and yet He is gentle and lowly at heart.

There are always those events in life which, despite how eagerly you may await them, always seem to fall short. That vacation you’ve been pining for over the last year reveals itself to be nothing special in the end; the new restaurant you’ve wanted to try for months turns out to be awful; and the highly anticipated final season of your favorite show – well, that is the worst offender of all. Hopefully such occurrences are few and far between, but they happen nonetheless, no matter how vehemently we might push up against them. Indeed, life is full of disappointments.

And then, every so often, things go not only as expected, but far, far better.

Several years ago, before I gave my life to Christ, I was with my family up North during our summer vacation. Not too far North, mind you, but far enough. We were on the Northernmost tip of the Bruce Peninsula in a little town called Tobermory, situated right along Lake Huron. Tobermory was a second home for my sisters and I growing up. Somewhere down the annals of time, my dad ‘stumbled’ upon the place, claimed it as his discovery, and subsequently brought our family there two to three times a year for the next twenty years – it was lovely.

It was rumored during that year in question that there would be a meteor shower on the very same week that our family happened to be cottaging up there. I say ‘rumored’ because, let’s be honest, a healthy skepticism of the weather network is not only an exercise of common sense, but outright wise. After all, even if there was a meteor shower, a lot could still go wrong: it could be cloudy on the nights in question, veiling our view entirely, or the shower could be delayed and trickle into the morning hours, thus limiting the starkness offered by the night sky, rendering the cosmic spectacle mundane.

In God’s good pleasure, none of these inconveniences came to pass. Upon arriving at Little Cove near midnight, a small beach nestled among the pines just off the beaten path, my father, sister, and I were treated to an experience I have never forgotten. Indeed, the heavens themselves seemed to have opened. 

Before us stood the pillar of the Milky Way, our own galaxy, adorned in rich hues of violet and sapphire, shining into the darkness like a jewel. The trail of the Lord’s robe, replete with stars beyond count and colors out of time, flooded the night sky. As the darkness gathered further to the North and South, away from the brilliance of the Milky Way, small streaks of light could be seen as they bowed slowly downwards – the meteors. They looked like satellites at first; tiny pinholes in the universe, leaving razor-thin tails of cosmic dust in their wake. 

It was as though the Milky Way at the center of this drama held the very universe intact, like a mighty braid of stars, leaving the meteors to fall like loose strands of hair to the left and the right. Before us, the impenetrable veneer of the lake, black and void, reflected the heavens back upon itself in an unending, unrelenting symphony of praise to her Maker. Trillions of voices taking up their harps in absolute harmony, one by one, echoing endlessly through the unmeasured plain of the universe.

What I observed during that meteor shower, even as an unbeliever at the time, left an imperishable mark upon my soul, such that I shall never forget it.

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Meta and Mark Zuckerberg wish to make money. They will addict your children in order to do so. The next time you see your child slap on a VR headset, find out if they are entering the metaverse. You have a responsibility as a parent to know. If you are an adult emersed in the metaverse, you are an addict and don’t even know it. 

Facebook announced a name change for its company this week. Meta is its new name.
You probably have little idea of the significance of the name change. I believe Meta has the capability of destroying the discipline, drive, and determination in future generations of Americans.
Have you heard of the Greatest Generation? These were American men and women who sacrificed everything during World War II to protect our land, our liberty, and the American way of life.
Meta could be the seedbed that destroys what the Greatest Generation obtained.
Meta is a Greek word that means “higher,” or “beyond,” or “behind.” It is carried over into English to refer to an alternate reality to something concrete. Meta (Facebook) is wanting to help you create an alternate life (e.g. “second life”) through virtual reality that takes you “beyond” the real-life that you are living on earth.
Meta is a drug. It is a form of escape. It is a game.
But don’t tell people involved in Meta that it is a game. It will anger them. Just like when you tell a person hooked on heroin that they’re addicted. “What do you know? Nothing that feels this good and is as beautiful as what I have experienced can be bad for me.” 
Oh, yes it can.
Here’s how Meta works. Meta (Facebook) will soon be opening storefronts around the world to sell you next-generation virtual reality glasses called Oculus. Slap those glasses on, integrate with the digital world, and soon, you will be living a Second Life, an alternate reality.
In this virtual world that exists in your mind, you will interact with other people who enter your Second Life by asking you (audibly through Oculus) if they can join you in your virtual house, your virtual business, your virtual lakefront home, your virtual gym, your virtual vacation, etc. You live the life that you want to live but can’t live in the real universe.
That’s right.
It’s the metauniverse. You are in control of parallel universes that you digitally create to escape the reality of the one real universe in which you live. You become your own god. You ignore the real God. You go beyond the real truth to create your own version of the truth. You go beyond reality to escape the harsh world in which you really live – and which the one true God can help you thrive, not just survive.
But why bother with the real world?
In the digital metauniverse of Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta, people can hide behind an Avatar (a character) that they create in the metauniverse. The Avatar represents them in their alternate reality.
Here’s how it works.
You upload an image of your face (or someone else’s face) after digitally manipulating it to remove those characteristics you don’t like.
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