So, so, so bummed I didn't think to do this.
If you're a non-believer, please help me to understand your refutation of this video...
Copy, paste, enjoy:
http://www.youtube.com/user/TheLutheranSatire#p/a/u/0/5p9CY976_kw
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Friday, February 19, 2010
How did I-- of all people-- become a Christian?
This blog is a series of writings completed over several years that explain my take on some of Christianity’s really difficult questions. In order that you might understand my perspective, let me tell you that in the year 2000 the following sentences applied to me:
1) I was a happy agnostic. Expanded a bit, let’s say I was fairly certain there was “a God,” but the concept of Christianity seemed irrelevant to my life.
2) I thought the Bible was pretty much a collection of Holy Canterbury Tales that, uh, beseeched me to be a good person.
3) I thought there was virtually no real evidence supporting the idea that a man named Jesus walked the earth. In fact, I thought that the “reality” of the Bible was one of those things that all Christians had to “accept on faith.”
4) I had a list of objections to Christianity that I viewed as iron-clad, and felt very smug playing “stump the believer” with any Christians I met.
In short, I was in the same place as tens of millions of other Americans.
Then, in 2000, I was forced to attend an Alpha Course at the church where my fiancé and I wanted to be married. Alpha is a 12-week course in Christianity 101, and I had about as much desire to attend as a sheep invited to the Annual Wolf & Bear Pot Luck Supper. I thought for sure I would walk in the door, and Moonies would assault me with questions about my faith and my relationship with “my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” I had thus determined in advance that I would attend two sessions: The one and the only.
To my surprise, no born-again assaults occurred—and there in the room I heard a video presentation by an Anglican Priest named Nicky Gumbel explaining the mountain of evidence that the New Testament is both factually correct, and was passed down through the centuries with incredible accuracy.
I learned, in fact, that virtually every scholar of ancient books, be they Christian or Atheist, will agree that the story written in the New Testament is the most historically accurate writing in ancient history-- by a mile.
There are a lot of books that explore “the historical reliability of the Bible” in whatever level of detail you desire, but for a wonderful layman’s explanation, read Amy Orr-Ewing’s book Is the Bible Intolerant? And, for the moment and for the sake of this discussion, let’s just assume I’m not totally making this up: It is a fact that the majority of modern ancient history scholars do agree that the New Testament is an accurate and near-perfect record of the life and times of Jesus.
Note: I did not say they’d agree that Jesus was and is the Son of God. I did not say they’d agree that the reported miracles were actual miracles. I did not say they’d all agree that Jesus was really raised from the dead. I said they’d agree that a dude named Jesus of Nazareth did, for a fact, walk the earth as reported—He said the things they wrote down… he did many things that bystanders believed to be miracles… he was crucified on a cross for blaspheme… and his believers claimed he was raised from the dead.
Now, Nicky explained, if we can ascertain that he really did live, and he really did proclaim to be the Son of God and the only way to heaven (which he clearly did on numerous occasions), the real question is, “Was he right?” What evidence supports his claim?
None, I remember thinking— this is where we’d finally get to the Christian cop out where they say, “You’ve just got to have faith.”
Far from it.
What Nicky explained, referencing also to the works of theologian C.S. Lewis, is that a claim like “I am the Son of God” can only offer three options:
• It wasn’t true, and Jesus knew it wasn’t true. (He was a manipulative liar)
• It wasn’t true, but Jesus didn’t know it. (He was nuts)
• It is true.
Could it be that Jesus was a manipulative liar? An evil man, there to destroy the religion of the Jews, and drag his group of best friends into a life of suffering and death? Possible, but highly unlikely. Wouldn’t an evil man put something for himself in this new religion? Money? Luxury? Women? Maybe at least a house with a roof?
Evil men throughout the centuries have always put themselves first, and used their evil ways for personal benefit. But where do we see Jesus benefiting from anything? He spent his ministry years in poverty-- tending to the needs of the poor and the lame. He laid his hands on lepers. He gave himself up to crucifixion, even when he and his homeboys could’ve split for the hills.
Given the evidence, the idea of Jesus being a con man seems very thin to me. As far as I know, the whole “allowing yourself to be crucified” runs counter to the official con man code.
Next, we have to ask if perhaps Jesus was insane—insane to the level of a current person believing they are Napoleon, or Elvis, or, well, Jesus. Could he have been nuts? Again, possible, but highly unlikely. Wouldn’t there have been some evidence recorded of him saying or doing nutty things?
Again, Nicky Gumbel asks his viewers to consider his teachings—in 2,000 years, no one has improved on the moral teachings of Jesus. Our entire Western World is built on morality and laws he taught. His teachings are, as Nicky says, “the kinds of things you would expect God to say.” Once again, I’m forced to admit that it’s highly unlikely that Jesus was insane.
So… what’s left? Oops. Allow me to quote C.S. Lewis, who’s a lot smarter than I’ll ever be: “A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic - on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg - or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse… But let us not come up with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
While this concept certainly put the hooks in me, I soon encountered two additional facets that required deep pondering:
First, after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension into heaven, his Apostles began traveling the known world preaching the message they’d been taught. And, as we know from history, all but one were put to death for those teachings, and their refusal to recant them. Now let me ask you: How many people do you know who’d be willing to die for something they didn’t believe in? Zero is my answer, too.
Second, consider the rise of the church itself. Christianity swept across the known world, rising exclusively from the teachings of one Jesus and a handful of Apostles. It offered no rise in social status for conversion, nor riches, nor extra wives, nor favor with the local zoning board.
In fact, it got a whole boat-load of converts fed to some Roman lions. How could this be? How could Christianity, if it was no more divine than Scientology, overcome these obstacles, and subsequently grow to the largest religion on the planet?
Since I’m a betting man, I bet that it couldn’t.
This was enough evidence to convince me that I should investigate further. So I attended more Alpha courses; I talked to studied Christians; I talked to Priests and Pastors; I read books; I thought, and prayed as best I could; I attended lectures; In short, I did my homework like my life depended on it.
This blog explores the discoveries I made, and explains my take on some of the tough issues. Maybe it will be helpful to you.
1) I was a happy agnostic. Expanded a bit, let’s say I was fairly certain there was “a God,” but the concept of Christianity seemed irrelevant to my life.
2) I thought the Bible was pretty much a collection of Holy Canterbury Tales that, uh, beseeched me to be a good person.
3) I thought there was virtually no real evidence supporting the idea that a man named Jesus walked the earth. In fact, I thought that the “reality” of the Bible was one of those things that all Christians had to “accept on faith.”
4) I had a list of objections to Christianity that I viewed as iron-clad, and felt very smug playing “stump the believer” with any Christians I met.
In short, I was in the same place as tens of millions of other Americans.
Then, in 2000, I was forced to attend an Alpha Course at the church where my fiancé and I wanted to be married. Alpha is a 12-week course in Christianity 101, and I had about as much desire to attend as a sheep invited to the Annual Wolf & Bear Pot Luck Supper. I thought for sure I would walk in the door, and Moonies would assault me with questions about my faith and my relationship with “my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” I had thus determined in advance that I would attend two sessions: The one and the only.
To my surprise, no born-again assaults occurred—and there in the room I heard a video presentation by an Anglican Priest named Nicky Gumbel explaining the mountain of evidence that the New Testament is both factually correct, and was passed down through the centuries with incredible accuracy.
I learned, in fact, that virtually every scholar of ancient books, be they Christian or Atheist, will agree that the story written in the New Testament is the most historically accurate writing in ancient history-- by a mile.
There are a lot of books that explore “the historical reliability of the Bible” in whatever level of detail you desire, but for a wonderful layman’s explanation, read Amy Orr-Ewing’s book Is the Bible Intolerant? And, for the moment and for the sake of this discussion, let’s just assume I’m not totally making this up: It is a fact that the majority of modern ancient history scholars do agree that the New Testament is an accurate and near-perfect record of the life and times of Jesus.
Note: I did not say they’d agree that Jesus was and is the Son of God. I did not say they’d agree that the reported miracles were actual miracles. I did not say they’d all agree that Jesus was really raised from the dead. I said they’d agree that a dude named Jesus of Nazareth did, for a fact, walk the earth as reported—He said the things they wrote down… he did many things that bystanders believed to be miracles… he was crucified on a cross for blaspheme… and his believers claimed he was raised from the dead.
Now, Nicky explained, if we can ascertain that he really did live, and he really did proclaim to be the Son of God and the only way to heaven (which he clearly did on numerous occasions), the real question is, “Was he right?” What evidence supports his claim?
None, I remember thinking— this is where we’d finally get to the Christian cop out where they say, “You’ve just got to have faith.”
Far from it.
What Nicky explained, referencing also to the works of theologian C.S. Lewis, is that a claim like “I am the Son of God” can only offer three options:
• It wasn’t true, and Jesus knew it wasn’t true. (He was a manipulative liar)
• It wasn’t true, but Jesus didn’t know it. (He was nuts)
• It is true.
Could it be that Jesus was a manipulative liar? An evil man, there to destroy the religion of the Jews, and drag his group of best friends into a life of suffering and death? Possible, but highly unlikely. Wouldn’t an evil man put something for himself in this new religion? Money? Luxury? Women? Maybe at least a house with a roof?
Evil men throughout the centuries have always put themselves first, and used their evil ways for personal benefit. But where do we see Jesus benefiting from anything? He spent his ministry years in poverty-- tending to the needs of the poor and the lame. He laid his hands on lepers. He gave himself up to crucifixion, even when he and his homeboys could’ve split for the hills.
Given the evidence, the idea of Jesus being a con man seems very thin to me. As far as I know, the whole “allowing yourself to be crucified” runs counter to the official con man code.
Next, we have to ask if perhaps Jesus was insane—insane to the level of a current person believing they are Napoleon, or Elvis, or, well, Jesus. Could he have been nuts? Again, possible, but highly unlikely. Wouldn’t there have been some evidence recorded of him saying or doing nutty things?
Again, Nicky Gumbel asks his viewers to consider his teachings—in 2,000 years, no one has improved on the moral teachings of Jesus. Our entire Western World is built on morality and laws he taught. His teachings are, as Nicky says, “the kinds of things you would expect God to say.” Once again, I’m forced to admit that it’s highly unlikely that Jesus was insane.
So… what’s left? Oops. Allow me to quote C.S. Lewis, who’s a lot smarter than I’ll ever be: “A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic - on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg - or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse… But let us not come up with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
While this concept certainly put the hooks in me, I soon encountered two additional facets that required deep pondering:
First, after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension into heaven, his Apostles began traveling the known world preaching the message they’d been taught. And, as we know from history, all but one were put to death for those teachings, and their refusal to recant them. Now let me ask you: How many people do you know who’d be willing to die for something they didn’t believe in? Zero is my answer, too.
Second, consider the rise of the church itself. Christianity swept across the known world, rising exclusively from the teachings of one Jesus and a handful of Apostles. It offered no rise in social status for conversion, nor riches, nor extra wives, nor favor with the local zoning board.
In fact, it got a whole boat-load of converts fed to some Roman lions. How could this be? How could Christianity, if it was no more divine than Scientology, overcome these obstacles, and subsequently grow to the largest religion on the planet?
Since I’m a betting man, I bet that it couldn’t.
This was enough evidence to convince me that I should investigate further. So I attended more Alpha courses; I talked to studied Christians; I talked to Priests and Pastors; I read books; I thought, and prayed as best I could; I attended lectures; In short, I did my homework like my life depended on it.
This blog explores the discoveries I made, and explains my take on some of the tough issues. Maybe it will be helpful to you.
I admit it-- Christianity suffers from an "uncoolness" factor
When most people hear the words “Christian Missionary,” several images come to mind-- at the forefront is usually a comical image of two guys tied back to back, immersed in a black caldron, while some bone-thru-the-nose head-hunter tries to get a fire going.
Why this image?
Is it all those Far-Side cartoons? All the off-color jokes? Or is it reality? After all, back in the old days, Missionaries were often quite likely to go from a meeting and greeting to a beating and eating in less time than it takes for the average televangelist to cement his hair in place.
Then again… perhaps, it’s something simpler. Maybe upon hearing the words “Christian Missionary” we envision ourselves in the pot, praying that soon we’ll be cooked, sliced up, and served like so many chicken salad sandwiches, thus avoiding a lecture by a Missionary about our shortcomings and sins. I, for one, know the latter described me for most of my life. (Bring water to boil and add spices, but please, hold the lecture.)
Then, well, then I became a Christian myself. And much to my amazement, no one’s lectured me-- Missionary, Priest, or Layperson, the truth be known. Four years and counting, and not so much as a, “Sit up straight and get your elbows off the alter, young man.” No one’s demanded I sign over my paychecks…no one’s investigated my weekly beer consumption…and no one’s asked me to “join them onstage” for a crying contest.
How can this be?
For many years, I took great pleasure in mocking Christians as hypocritical. In fact, during pre-marital counseling I told my church’s assistant rector, “I don’t go to church because it’s full of hypocrites.” He responded, “Well, the gym is full of fat people, but that doesn’t mean you can’t work out there, does it?”
He had a point. I begrudgingly went to church.
And somehow, I became a Christian. And if that didn’t shock me enough, beginning this January I’m going to become involved in some mission work. The editor of this fine newspaper asked that I share some thoughts about Christianity, and how I went from being an agnostic to believer. I’m a looooong shot from being an expert, and qualify as little more than a beginner, but I am happy to share the things I’ve discovered that got me over the skeptical hills that for so long stood in my way.
However, before I begin discussing the answers I’ve encountered during my walk down this path, I think I should touch on the one of the issues that plagues Christianity. Namely, it’s uncoolness…especially when you consider all the other options out there.
Take for instance being a Buddhist. How cool is that? You get to meditate, and do inner searching, and hang up cool banners with those chicken-scratchy symbols. As an added benefit, people think you might go from serene to karate chopping everyone like that dude on Kung Fu, so folks keep their distance. Throw in a couple dragon tattoos, and you’re the king of cocktail conversation.
How about Hindus? That’s pretty cool-- sure, you can’t eat hamburgers, but you get reincarnated if you screw things up in this life. And even if you’re demoted to being, say, a platypus, you can work your way back to humanhood if you keep your bill to the grindstone for a few short years. Once you’re back, well, you can still party like it’s 1999, because apparently you get unlimited mulligans.
Of course, the coolest of all religions, which is favored among most younger folks, is the McReligion of The Great Spirit. This is a generalized rip-off of the religion of the American Indians, and has a loose confederation of beliefs best articulated after about 14 beers: Rocks have souls, we all share a life force, everything’s cool, and you don’t need to bother the Great Spirit unless you really need something. As long as you’re a “good person” and don’t hunt more buffalo than you need, you get to go to the Happy Hunting Ground.
But why is Christianity so uncool?
I think it’s because its “brand” has been hijacked by televangelists, fundamentalists, and some loud-mouths who are a lot more judgmental than Jesus ever was. Of course, the media loves this, and portrays these folks as representing mainstream, middle-of-the-road-to-Damascus Christianity. I mean, how many times have we heard this interview:
Reporter: “Reverend Fundamentalist—Are you saying you don’t believe in dinosaurs?”
Reverend: “That’s correct.”
Reporter: “Well, how do you explain the fact they discovered perfectly fossilized dinosaur bones in your front yard?”
Reverend: “They were planted there by Satan, I’m sure.”
Reporter: “Well, thank you, Reverend, for speaking on behalf of every Christian on the planet.”
I’m afraid there’s not much I can do about the uncoolness of Christianity. The deck is stacked too heavily against me. But what I can do is try to explain in layman’s terms some of the things I’ve discovered about the faith through reading, listening, and studying.
Christianity is not simple…but why should it be? Physics isn’t simple, and what would you say to a freshman physics student who attends class for a few weeks, then announces, “I’m dropping physics, because I’ve looked into it, and I haven’t found an explanation for the theory of relativity that I find understandable. In fact, I hereby proclaim the theory of relativity as irrelevant and untrue, and I plan to argue its validity with anyone who brings it up.”
I’m thinking you’d say, “Well, lad, better minds than yours have committed their lives to the study of that theory. Maybe you should do a little more lookin’ into it before you proclaim it as false.”
If my analogy makes sense to you, give a look back here in The Mercury for this column during slow news weeks…I’ll explain to you what I’ve found during my walk.
Why this image?
Is it all those Far-Side cartoons? All the off-color jokes? Or is it reality? After all, back in the old days, Missionaries were often quite likely to go from a meeting and greeting to a beating and eating in less time than it takes for the average televangelist to cement his hair in place.
Then again… perhaps, it’s something simpler. Maybe upon hearing the words “Christian Missionary” we envision ourselves in the pot, praying that soon we’ll be cooked, sliced up, and served like so many chicken salad sandwiches, thus avoiding a lecture by a Missionary about our shortcomings and sins. I, for one, know the latter described me for most of my life. (Bring water to boil and add spices, but please, hold the lecture.)
Then, well, then I became a Christian myself. And much to my amazement, no one’s lectured me-- Missionary, Priest, or Layperson, the truth be known. Four years and counting, and not so much as a, “Sit up straight and get your elbows off the alter, young man.” No one’s demanded I sign over my paychecks…no one’s investigated my weekly beer consumption…and no one’s asked me to “join them onstage” for a crying contest.
How can this be?
For many years, I took great pleasure in mocking Christians as hypocritical. In fact, during pre-marital counseling I told my church’s assistant rector, “I don’t go to church because it’s full of hypocrites.” He responded, “Well, the gym is full of fat people, but that doesn’t mean you can’t work out there, does it?”
He had a point. I begrudgingly went to church.
And somehow, I became a Christian. And if that didn’t shock me enough, beginning this January I’m going to become involved in some mission work. The editor of this fine newspaper asked that I share some thoughts about Christianity, and how I went from being an agnostic to believer. I’m a looooong shot from being an expert, and qualify as little more than a beginner, but I am happy to share the things I’ve discovered that got me over the skeptical hills that for so long stood in my way.
However, before I begin discussing the answers I’ve encountered during my walk down this path, I think I should touch on the one of the issues that plagues Christianity. Namely, it’s uncoolness…especially when you consider all the other options out there.
Take for instance being a Buddhist. How cool is that? You get to meditate, and do inner searching, and hang up cool banners with those chicken-scratchy symbols. As an added benefit, people think you might go from serene to karate chopping everyone like that dude on Kung Fu, so folks keep their distance. Throw in a couple dragon tattoos, and you’re the king of cocktail conversation.
How about Hindus? That’s pretty cool-- sure, you can’t eat hamburgers, but you get reincarnated if you screw things up in this life. And even if you’re demoted to being, say, a platypus, you can work your way back to humanhood if you keep your bill to the grindstone for a few short years. Once you’re back, well, you can still party like it’s 1999, because apparently you get unlimited mulligans.
Of course, the coolest of all religions, which is favored among most younger folks, is the McReligion of The Great Spirit. This is a generalized rip-off of the religion of the American Indians, and has a loose confederation of beliefs best articulated after about 14 beers: Rocks have souls, we all share a life force, everything’s cool, and you don’t need to bother the Great Spirit unless you really need something. As long as you’re a “good person” and don’t hunt more buffalo than you need, you get to go to the Happy Hunting Ground.
But why is Christianity so uncool?
I think it’s because its “brand” has been hijacked by televangelists, fundamentalists, and some loud-mouths who are a lot more judgmental than Jesus ever was. Of course, the media loves this, and portrays these folks as representing mainstream, middle-of-the-road-to-Damascus Christianity. I mean, how many times have we heard this interview:
Reporter: “Reverend Fundamentalist—Are you saying you don’t believe in dinosaurs?”
Reverend: “That’s correct.”
Reporter: “Well, how do you explain the fact they discovered perfectly fossilized dinosaur bones in your front yard?”
Reverend: “They were planted there by Satan, I’m sure.”
Reporter: “Well, thank you, Reverend, for speaking on behalf of every Christian on the planet.”
I’m afraid there’s not much I can do about the uncoolness of Christianity. The deck is stacked too heavily against me. But what I can do is try to explain in layman’s terms some of the things I’ve discovered about the faith through reading, listening, and studying.
Christianity is not simple…but why should it be? Physics isn’t simple, and what would you say to a freshman physics student who attends class for a few weeks, then announces, “I’m dropping physics, because I’ve looked into it, and I haven’t found an explanation for the theory of relativity that I find understandable. In fact, I hereby proclaim the theory of relativity as irrelevant and untrue, and I plan to argue its validity with anyone who brings it up.”
I’m thinking you’d say, “Well, lad, better minds than yours have committed their lives to the study of that theory. Maybe you should do a little more lookin’ into it before you proclaim it as false.”
If my analogy makes sense to you, give a look back here in The Mercury for this column during slow news weeks…I’ll explain to you what I’ve found during my walk.
"Belief" Actually Starts as a "Choice."
There are four minutes left in the game as the home team’s quarterback steps towards the line of scrimmage.
With 80 yards to go and losing by four points, things look tough. He surveys his team, seeing that his line is exhausted, and lamenting that the team’s star receiver was injured during an earlier set of downs. To top things off, his ankle is feeling unsteady, the result of particularly vicious hit he took the previous play. He wipes his hands on his jersey, and surveys the defense. It’s decision time.
The quarterback considers his options: First, he can call time-out, and tell the coach he’s too injured to continue. If his rookie replacement drives the team to a score, that’s cool — it would be a shared victory, and he’d get the credit for having put them in the position to win.
If the rookie blows it, well, that’s life. At least he would be on the sidelines, away from the gaze of the disappointed crowd. He ponders this option for what seems like hours, wondering who could blame him. After all, the chances of actually getting the ball into the end zone against this particular defense are slim.
Then he considers his next option: To take the snap, and push for the touchdown.
But to do that, he knows he’s got to tell himself it’s at least possible. Against all odds, he’s got to look down the field, and say, “Pure logic tells me otherwise, but I think this can be done. I want this. If I just throw caution to the wind and take the snap, everything will fall in place. I’m taking this team forward until the clock runs down, or ball is in the end zone.
He makes his decision, steps to the line, sets himself for the play, and begins to call the signals.
And then, something strange happens.
Before the ball is even snapped, the Referee blows his whistle and signals for a touchdown. The crowd goes wild, and pours onto the field. His teammates lift him over their heads, and carry him down the field.
Seeing the ref to his right, the confused quarterback calls out, “I don’t get it! We didn’t score!”
“No need!” the Ref shouts back, “all you had to do was decide you wanted to score.”
This, my friends, is the story of Christianity, told to clarify what (I believe) is a great misunderstanding.
You see, most people think you have to actually score to win the game. They believe you have to battle your way down the field, overcome every obstacle, put the ball in the end zone, physically feel the roar of the crowd, and actually see the points on the scoreboard before you can say, “I made it.”
Fortunately, that’s not the case. In fact, you don’t even have to know in your heart that you’re going to score. With Christianity, you just have to say, “I want to score.”
Let me clarify: There are plenty of people reading this right now who don’t go to church, because they don’t feel they really believe in Jesus and his Gospel. They wonder what the point of going to church would be, because they’d just be sitting there, going through the motions and worshipping a “Savior” they don’t really believe exists. This is because they think a person must make it into the end zone in order to be a believer. In short, they think they must score the touchdown in order to score the touchdown.
The perception of what is meant by “scoring the touchdown” is often further distorted by the scale people use for measuring belief. They will often think of a very enthusiastically religious friend — one who goes to Bible study every night, and talks about Jesus all the time — and think, “I’d never reach that point. I guess that means I can’t become a believer.”
Here’s the good news: Jesus doesn’t expect you to believe in him in order to believe in him. He doesn’t expect you to believe in him before you believe in him. What He wants you to do is say, “You know what? Jesus says He offers forgiveness and eternal life to those who follow him. Getting forgiveness for all the lousy things I’ve done and a reward of eternal life sounds pretty good to me. I want that.”
With that out of the way, he wants you to say, “Jesus, I want the things you offer, so I now choose to believe in you. I choose it in the same way a quarterback chooses to stay in the game and press for the win. To show you I’m serious, I’m going to start going to church to hear the sermons, and I’m going to sign up for a “new Christians” course to learn more. This way, you can use my decision to follow and believe in you as the vehicle to help me understand what this is all about.”
Unfortunately, some people get derailed at this point because they seek advice from well-meaning people who just don’t remember (at all) what it was like to have been a rookie.
How can this happen? It’s simple — lots of veteran players get confused about their role in the game, and instead of helping you with your fundamentals, they stand in what they think is the end zone shouting, “Come on! It’s easy! Just think like an experienced veteran, and join us in the end zone! Hurry up! You call yourself a football player?!! At this rate, you’ll never score!”
Not helpful.
And not true. You scored when you had a personal conversation with Jesus saying, “I now choose to believe. Thank you for dieing on the cross. I now turn my back on everything I know is wrong. I accept that you died for me, and I accept you as my Lord and Savior. I ask you right now to come into my life, and guide me with your Holy Spirit towards the kind of life you want me to live.”
Is it really that easy? You betcha. Eternal life through Jesus Christ is God’s free gift to mankind.
Free, but not cheap. It cost Jesus his human life, something He treasured just like any man-- so if you pray that prayer, do so with as much thanks and awe as you can muster. After all, you’re talking to the guy who commanded the universe to be.
In closing, I’ll add this: If you decide to become a Christian right now, Jesus is running a special offer: You don’t have to tell anyone. It can be between the two of you until you decide you’re ready. In the meantime, he’ll use your belief to help you understand.
With 80 yards to go and losing by four points, things look tough. He surveys his team, seeing that his line is exhausted, and lamenting that the team’s star receiver was injured during an earlier set of downs. To top things off, his ankle is feeling unsteady, the result of particularly vicious hit he took the previous play. He wipes his hands on his jersey, and surveys the defense. It’s decision time.
The quarterback considers his options: First, he can call time-out, and tell the coach he’s too injured to continue. If his rookie replacement drives the team to a score, that’s cool — it would be a shared victory, and he’d get the credit for having put them in the position to win.
If the rookie blows it, well, that’s life. At least he would be on the sidelines, away from the gaze of the disappointed crowd. He ponders this option for what seems like hours, wondering who could blame him. After all, the chances of actually getting the ball into the end zone against this particular defense are slim.
Then he considers his next option: To take the snap, and push for the touchdown.
But to do that, he knows he’s got to tell himself it’s at least possible. Against all odds, he’s got to look down the field, and say, “Pure logic tells me otherwise, but I think this can be done. I want this. If I just throw caution to the wind and take the snap, everything will fall in place. I’m taking this team forward until the clock runs down, or ball is in the end zone.
He makes his decision, steps to the line, sets himself for the play, and begins to call the signals.
And then, something strange happens.
Before the ball is even snapped, the Referee blows his whistle and signals for a touchdown. The crowd goes wild, and pours onto the field. His teammates lift him over their heads, and carry him down the field.
Seeing the ref to his right, the confused quarterback calls out, “I don’t get it! We didn’t score!”
“No need!” the Ref shouts back, “all you had to do was decide you wanted to score.”
This, my friends, is the story of Christianity, told to clarify what (I believe) is a great misunderstanding.
You see, most people think you have to actually score to win the game. They believe you have to battle your way down the field, overcome every obstacle, put the ball in the end zone, physically feel the roar of the crowd, and actually see the points on the scoreboard before you can say, “I made it.”
Fortunately, that’s not the case. In fact, you don’t even have to know in your heart that you’re going to score. With Christianity, you just have to say, “I want to score.”
Let me clarify: There are plenty of people reading this right now who don’t go to church, because they don’t feel they really believe in Jesus and his Gospel. They wonder what the point of going to church would be, because they’d just be sitting there, going through the motions and worshipping a “Savior” they don’t really believe exists. This is because they think a person must make it into the end zone in order to be a believer. In short, they think they must score the touchdown in order to score the touchdown.
The perception of what is meant by “scoring the touchdown” is often further distorted by the scale people use for measuring belief. They will often think of a very enthusiastically religious friend — one who goes to Bible study every night, and talks about Jesus all the time — and think, “I’d never reach that point. I guess that means I can’t become a believer.”
Here’s the good news: Jesus doesn’t expect you to believe in him in order to believe in him. He doesn’t expect you to believe in him before you believe in him. What He wants you to do is say, “You know what? Jesus says He offers forgiveness and eternal life to those who follow him. Getting forgiveness for all the lousy things I’ve done and a reward of eternal life sounds pretty good to me. I want that.”
With that out of the way, he wants you to say, “Jesus, I want the things you offer, so I now choose to believe in you. I choose it in the same way a quarterback chooses to stay in the game and press for the win. To show you I’m serious, I’m going to start going to church to hear the sermons, and I’m going to sign up for a “new Christians” course to learn more. This way, you can use my decision to follow and believe in you as the vehicle to help me understand what this is all about.”
Unfortunately, some people get derailed at this point because they seek advice from well-meaning people who just don’t remember (at all) what it was like to have been a rookie.
How can this happen? It’s simple — lots of veteran players get confused about their role in the game, and instead of helping you with your fundamentals, they stand in what they think is the end zone shouting, “Come on! It’s easy! Just think like an experienced veteran, and join us in the end zone! Hurry up! You call yourself a football player?!! At this rate, you’ll never score!”
Not helpful.
And not true. You scored when you had a personal conversation with Jesus saying, “I now choose to believe. Thank you for dieing on the cross. I now turn my back on everything I know is wrong. I accept that you died for me, and I accept you as my Lord and Savior. I ask you right now to come into my life, and guide me with your Holy Spirit towards the kind of life you want me to live.”
Is it really that easy? You betcha. Eternal life through Jesus Christ is God’s free gift to mankind.
Free, but not cheap. It cost Jesus his human life, something He treasured just like any man-- so if you pray that prayer, do so with as much thanks and awe as you can muster. After all, you’re talking to the guy who commanded the universe to be.
In closing, I’ll add this: If you decide to become a Christian right now, Jesus is running a special offer: You don’t have to tell anyone. It can be between the two of you until you decide you’re ready. In the meantime, he’ll use your belief to help you understand.
The Issue of "Lifestyle."
The objection that “being a Christian will screw up my lifestyle” almost always plays a role when a person begins considering Christianity.
It’s an issue that goes all the way back to when Jesus himself was walking the earth. And let’s be frank: The Jerry Falwell contingent has sent the message through the media that being a Christian means no drinking, no drugs, no pre-marital sex, no rock n’ roll music, no cussing, and no movies (except those rated G).
Slip up? Hell’s where you’re headed, Mister. And you, being human, have bought into the media’s distorted message that “Jerry Falwell speaks for all those Christian weirdoes.”
I’m here to tell you, he does not. Let me give you a more accurate example of what “becoming a Christian” is like:
You go out and buy a really righteous mountain bike, because mountain biking looks like something you’d like to do. Now, does buying the bike make you a master mountain biker? Does mere bike ownership mean that you can shred the most difficult trails, and execute the most difficult aerial maneuvers? And – most importantly – does it mean you’re a failure if you don’t?
Of course not.
You bought the mountain bike, and said, “I’m in…I’d like to learn the sport…right now I don’t know anything, but with time, practice, and a lot of wipeouts, I may get good at it. I may never learn the triple-inverted-double-twist-flipomatic, but that doesn’t mean that one day I can’t be a mountain biker.”
Trust me, living the perfect Christian life is almost impossible. (It’s only been done once, and that was 2,000 years ago.)
In fact, living even a “good” Christian life is the triple-inverted-double-twist-flipomatic, and achieving it is extraordinarily rare.
The truth is that most Christians spend most of their time on the trail wiping out. But here’s the thing: Like recreational mountain biking, the course is not timed…there’s no penalty for wiping out as long as you keep trying…and there’s a monster-sized eternal trophy at the end of the course.
Let me digress for just a moment: Some Christians come to their faith with a bang—Something happens, and God delivers to them a huge injection of “talent” for the faith. In short, they become instant, overnight mountain bike experts.
Now, let’s consider your conversation with them on the sport of mountain biking:
Them (Very loud): Dude! Did you hear??!! I’m an expert mountain biker! It’s awesome!
You: Huh? I saw you a week ago. You didn’t even own a mountain bike.
Them: I know! That’s what makes it such a great sport! It’s easy! You just get on and go!
You: Easy? Are you friggin’ nuts? You’re going down a mountain at, like, 50 miles an hour.
Them: Wrong! All you’ve got to do is want to be an expert, and you are an expert, see? I rode Mt. Everest yesterday with no hands! It’s so simple!
You: Dude, it’s not simple.
Them: Yes, yes, yes, it is simple. All you’ve got to do is want to be an expert.
You: Okay, I give…how do you want to be an expert?
Them: You just want it, and then you’ll feel a massive rush of talent, and then you’re an expert!
You: But, I –
Them: Listen to me! This is an awesome hobby! Quit all your other hobbies immediately, give away your snow skis, and motorcycle, and parachute, and skateboard, and tennis racquet, and baseball glove, and your boat, and focus everything on mountain biking! You can be like me! Overnight!
You: But I like doing other sports. And I’m not sure I want to be like you.
Them: Oh, then mountain biking ain’t for you. Sorry.
This hypothetical situation is simply not true.
Most Christians aren’t blessed with the big bang of faith, and come to their understanding of God’s word step-by-little-step…little by little…year by year.
They buy the mountain bike, and learn how to ride on a flat level surface. That seems okay, so they practice turns, and braking. They get the hang of that, and move on to riding in grass. Learn to make repairs. Learn to do preventive maintenance. At each step, they find themselves enjoying the growth process, and they consciously make the decision to pursue more-- they do so because they want to.
It works the same way with the “lifestyle” issue. If you’re the biggest party-animal-sex-crazed-drug-snorting-racist on the planet, you’re still welcomed in the house of God. You’re still welcomed to learn His words, and learn His ways. Chances are, with time, you’ll modify your lifestyle because you want to, and God will help you by changing you from the inside.
If you don’t? If you never change your ways? That’s an issue between you and God.
No one in the church has any right to judge you, as only God can judge. Compared to the guy who created the heavens and the earth, we’re all worthless little vermin, so who am I to say your sins are worse than mine?
Once you make the decision to become a Christian, and you let Jesus play a role in your life, then you begin to absorb the “talents” for the faith at the rate He gives them to you-- which is always at a rate you can handle.
Who knows? You may not get the big “bang” of talent a month into it. You may never get the big bang, and instead learn things one tiny bit at a time—but either way, the end result is the same: You’ll make lifestyle changes because you will want to be a more skilled participant.
It’s an issue that goes all the way back to when Jesus himself was walking the earth. And let’s be frank: The Jerry Falwell contingent has sent the message through the media that being a Christian means no drinking, no drugs, no pre-marital sex, no rock n’ roll music, no cussing, and no movies (except those rated G).
Slip up? Hell’s where you’re headed, Mister. And you, being human, have bought into the media’s distorted message that “Jerry Falwell speaks for all those Christian weirdoes.”
I’m here to tell you, he does not. Let me give you a more accurate example of what “becoming a Christian” is like:
You go out and buy a really righteous mountain bike, because mountain biking looks like something you’d like to do. Now, does buying the bike make you a master mountain biker? Does mere bike ownership mean that you can shred the most difficult trails, and execute the most difficult aerial maneuvers? And – most importantly – does it mean you’re a failure if you don’t?
Of course not.
You bought the mountain bike, and said, “I’m in…I’d like to learn the sport…right now I don’t know anything, but with time, practice, and a lot of wipeouts, I may get good at it. I may never learn the triple-inverted-double-twist-flipomatic, but that doesn’t mean that one day I can’t be a mountain biker.”
Trust me, living the perfect Christian life is almost impossible. (It’s only been done once, and that was 2,000 years ago.)
In fact, living even a “good” Christian life is the triple-inverted-double-twist-flipomatic, and achieving it is extraordinarily rare.
The truth is that most Christians spend most of their time on the trail wiping out. But here’s the thing: Like recreational mountain biking, the course is not timed…there’s no penalty for wiping out as long as you keep trying…and there’s a monster-sized eternal trophy at the end of the course.
Let me digress for just a moment: Some Christians come to their faith with a bang—Something happens, and God delivers to them a huge injection of “talent” for the faith. In short, they become instant, overnight mountain bike experts.
Now, let’s consider your conversation with them on the sport of mountain biking:
Them (Very loud): Dude! Did you hear??!! I’m an expert mountain biker! It’s awesome!
You: Huh? I saw you a week ago. You didn’t even own a mountain bike.
Them: I know! That’s what makes it such a great sport! It’s easy! You just get on and go!
You: Easy? Are you friggin’ nuts? You’re going down a mountain at, like, 50 miles an hour.
Them: Wrong! All you’ve got to do is want to be an expert, and you are an expert, see? I rode Mt. Everest yesterday with no hands! It’s so simple!
You: Dude, it’s not simple.
Them: Yes, yes, yes, it is simple. All you’ve got to do is want to be an expert.
You: Okay, I give…how do you want to be an expert?
Them: You just want it, and then you’ll feel a massive rush of talent, and then you’re an expert!
You: But, I –
Them: Listen to me! This is an awesome hobby! Quit all your other hobbies immediately, give away your snow skis, and motorcycle, and parachute, and skateboard, and tennis racquet, and baseball glove, and your boat, and focus everything on mountain biking! You can be like me! Overnight!
You: But I like doing other sports. And I’m not sure I want to be like you.
Them: Oh, then mountain biking ain’t for you. Sorry.
This hypothetical situation is simply not true.
Most Christians aren’t blessed with the big bang of faith, and come to their understanding of God’s word step-by-little-step…little by little…year by year.
They buy the mountain bike, and learn how to ride on a flat level surface. That seems okay, so they practice turns, and braking. They get the hang of that, and move on to riding in grass. Learn to make repairs. Learn to do preventive maintenance. At each step, they find themselves enjoying the growth process, and they consciously make the decision to pursue more-- they do so because they want to.
It works the same way with the “lifestyle” issue. If you’re the biggest party-animal-sex-crazed-drug-snorting-racist on the planet, you’re still welcomed in the house of God. You’re still welcomed to learn His words, and learn His ways. Chances are, with time, you’ll modify your lifestyle because you want to, and God will help you by changing you from the inside.
If you don’t? If you never change your ways? That’s an issue between you and God.
No one in the church has any right to judge you, as only God can judge. Compared to the guy who created the heavens and the earth, we’re all worthless little vermin, so who am I to say your sins are worse than mine?
Once you make the decision to become a Christian, and you let Jesus play a role in your life, then you begin to absorb the “talents” for the faith at the rate He gives them to you-- which is always at a rate you can handle.
Who knows? You may not get the big “bang” of talent a month into it. You may never get the big bang, and instead learn things one tiny bit at a time—but either way, the end result is the same: You’ll make lifestyle changes because you will want to be a more skilled participant.
Fear and Loathing in the Secular World
Today, I read that Hunter S. Thompson killed himself.
In case you are unaware, Hunter S. Thompson was a wildly-successful writer and journalist, who first became famous through his writings for The Rolling Stone, in which he used a writing style he dubbed “gonzo journalism.” In essence, he made himself (as the writer) a key part of the story, which then gave him license to report a story that was part fact, part fiction, and part madness. The madness-factor came largely from Thompson’s voracious appetite for drugs and alcohol, which played a key role in all of his stories and books.
Thompson’s suicide got me thinking, because his death was a bit different than the usual movie and rock star overdose/suicide/car crash. Most rich and famous people (who die from excess) die hiding their lifestyle from public view-- they harbor a guilt or shame about their addictions, and most of us are (at least) mildly surprised when we read that yet another person “with everything” is dead.
But Hunter S. Thompson was different: He was famous for his drug and alcohol appetite, and it was who he was. His abuse of drugs and alcohol was legendary, and his ability to function while stoned was discussed in practically every article written about him. Thompson was hiding nothing, and he was rewarded with money and fame for doing so.
For many addicts and alcoholics, Thompson had beaten the system: He could do anything he wanted, completely devoid of judgment by his fellow man. He could medicate any unpleasant feelings or concerns he had, pass out face down on the Main Street of Aspen, and have people fighting over who got to take him home. By secular standards, Hunter S. Thompson had it all, and then some: Money, fame, talent, and an unheard of “get out of morality” free card.
And in the end, he killed himself.
Why? Hunter S. Thompson had utter secular freedom. Bill Gates only dreams of a life where he gets to say, “Yeah, we’re a monopoly. Too bad.” Michael Jackson only dreams of a world where he gets to say, “It’s my private life. Leave me alone.” And Hugh Hefner only dreams of a world where he gets to say, “We’re dumping all those articles no one reads, and just running pictures of naked women.”
Think of it: For Hunter S. Thompson, there were no boundaries, except his personal pursuit of happiness. So why the gunshot to the head?
I think I know.
I think it’s because we’re hardwired to worship God. It’s in our DNA, down deep in the stuff that makes us humans. And because of this, we can never actually be happy, or fulfilled, or at peace unless we’re acting on this calling. You can’t be happy if you don’t breathe, can you? It’s tough to be fulfilled if you stop drinking liquids, isn’t it? And so it is with our instinct to worship: God made us in His image, for His own pleasure, and part of the glue He used was a need to worship Him.
There’s a catch, however— we can choose to worship something other than God. And we all do. It certainly seems that Hunter S. Thompson took to worshipping drugs and alcohol and the no-boundaries lifestyle, but he’s no different than you and I.
What is it that you worship? Money? Power? Work? Yourself? Status? Pleasure? Academics? Fitness? Sex? A Hobby? Philosophy? Recognition from others?
I believe the hard cold fact is this: There aren’t many folks who, given a demand that they choose only one thing to do with their free time for the rest of their life would say, “Sign me for Worshipping God.” But, the reality is that these folks would be the only ones who would achieve happiness and contentment. The rest of us would end up, well, like Hunter S. Thompson, unable to understand why happiness eludes us even though we’re doing what we want to do.
As a Christian, what I’ve come to understand and believe is this: Without God and His Son Jesus in your life putting the world in perspective, you’re got very little chance of achieving real peace, contentment, and happiness. One need only look at the lives of movie stars and rock stars to see fame doesn’t bring it.
Doing in-depth research on the lives of Lotto winners and business moguls will provide pretty solid evidence that money doesn’t do it. Hunter S. Thompson has given a pretty good testimony that moral freedom doesn’t do it.
I believe, bottom line, that the New Testament is accurate, and that Jesus was telling the Truth when He said, “I am the bread of life.” And I believe it is because of Jesus that Christians in the Third World living in abject poverty can achieve happiness and contentment, while agnostic Americans live their lives miserably in the lap of luxury.
If I was an atheist, my objection to the argument I’ve presented would be this: Why would a loving God hardwire us in such a way? Why would He make achieving human happiness contingent on our relationship with Him and His Son Jesus? And I’d answer “it is because He wants what’s best for us.” And then I’d respond to that question with these comments: Even though you’re an atheist, you obviously want the best life possible for your kids, right?
As a result, you attempt to “hardwire” your kids (through rules and encouragement) to be creative, thoughtful, and smart in their decisions. You also encourage them to maintain an open, positive relationship with you… to seek your advice… and to obey the parameters you’ve set for behavior. Why? Because you want your kids to have a fulfilling, happy life while avoiding as much unnecessary pain as possible. And in my opinion, you are fully qualified to do this because you are wiser than your kids. Hmmm, to me it sounds a lot like God’s relationship with us.
In my opinion, modern history offers no better example of “unrestrained secular freedom” than Hunter S. Thompson. He had talent, money, and fame. He lived in a beautiful area, where his neighbors not only put up with his life of excess—they applauded it, and encouraged it. He did exactly what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. He was, in a way, even above the law, as any other well-known drug abuser would have long since been thrown in jail. He could do virtually anything, and his fans in Aspen would say simply, “Oh, that’s Hunter. He’s our town nut, but we love him.”
He had total, secular freedom. And yet, he killed himself.
Shouldn’t this tell us something?
In case you are unaware, Hunter S. Thompson was a wildly-successful writer and journalist, who first became famous through his writings for The Rolling Stone, in which he used a writing style he dubbed “gonzo journalism.” In essence, he made himself (as the writer) a key part of the story, which then gave him license to report a story that was part fact, part fiction, and part madness. The madness-factor came largely from Thompson’s voracious appetite for drugs and alcohol, which played a key role in all of his stories and books.
Thompson’s suicide got me thinking, because his death was a bit different than the usual movie and rock star overdose/suicide/car crash. Most rich and famous people (who die from excess) die hiding their lifestyle from public view-- they harbor a guilt or shame about their addictions, and most of us are (at least) mildly surprised when we read that yet another person “with everything” is dead.
But Hunter S. Thompson was different: He was famous for his drug and alcohol appetite, and it was who he was. His abuse of drugs and alcohol was legendary, and his ability to function while stoned was discussed in practically every article written about him. Thompson was hiding nothing, and he was rewarded with money and fame for doing so.
For many addicts and alcoholics, Thompson had beaten the system: He could do anything he wanted, completely devoid of judgment by his fellow man. He could medicate any unpleasant feelings or concerns he had, pass out face down on the Main Street of Aspen, and have people fighting over who got to take him home. By secular standards, Hunter S. Thompson had it all, and then some: Money, fame, talent, and an unheard of “get out of morality” free card.
And in the end, he killed himself.
Why? Hunter S. Thompson had utter secular freedom. Bill Gates only dreams of a life where he gets to say, “Yeah, we’re a monopoly. Too bad.” Michael Jackson only dreams of a world where he gets to say, “It’s my private life. Leave me alone.” And Hugh Hefner only dreams of a world where he gets to say, “We’re dumping all those articles no one reads, and just running pictures of naked women.”
Think of it: For Hunter S. Thompson, there were no boundaries, except his personal pursuit of happiness. So why the gunshot to the head?
I think I know.
I think it’s because we’re hardwired to worship God. It’s in our DNA, down deep in the stuff that makes us humans. And because of this, we can never actually be happy, or fulfilled, or at peace unless we’re acting on this calling. You can’t be happy if you don’t breathe, can you? It’s tough to be fulfilled if you stop drinking liquids, isn’t it? And so it is with our instinct to worship: God made us in His image, for His own pleasure, and part of the glue He used was a need to worship Him.
There’s a catch, however— we can choose to worship something other than God. And we all do. It certainly seems that Hunter S. Thompson took to worshipping drugs and alcohol and the no-boundaries lifestyle, but he’s no different than you and I.
What is it that you worship? Money? Power? Work? Yourself? Status? Pleasure? Academics? Fitness? Sex? A Hobby? Philosophy? Recognition from others?
I believe the hard cold fact is this: There aren’t many folks who, given a demand that they choose only one thing to do with their free time for the rest of their life would say, “Sign me for Worshipping God.” But, the reality is that these folks would be the only ones who would achieve happiness and contentment. The rest of us would end up, well, like Hunter S. Thompson, unable to understand why happiness eludes us even though we’re doing what we want to do.
As a Christian, what I’ve come to understand and believe is this: Without God and His Son Jesus in your life putting the world in perspective, you’re got very little chance of achieving real peace, contentment, and happiness. One need only look at the lives of movie stars and rock stars to see fame doesn’t bring it.
Doing in-depth research on the lives of Lotto winners and business moguls will provide pretty solid evidence that money doesn’t do it. Hunter S. Thompson has given a pretty good testimony that moral freedom doesn’t do it.
I believe, bottom line, that the New Testament is accurate, and that Jesus was telling the Truth when He said, “I am the bread of life.” And I believe it is because of Jesus that Christians in the Third World living in abject poverty can achieve happiness and contentment, while agnostic Americans live their lives miserably in the lap of luxury.
If I was an atheist, my objection to the argument I’ve presented would be this: Why would a loving God hardwire us in such a way? Why would He make achieving human happiness contingent on our relationship with Him and His Son Jesus? And I’d answer “it is because He wants what’s best for us.” And then I’d respond to that question with these comments: Even though you’re an atheist, you obviously want the best life possible for your kids, right?
As a result, you attempt to “hardwire” your kids (through rules and encouragement) to be creative, thoughtful, and smart in their decisions. You also encourage them to maintain an open, positive relationship with you… to seek your advice… and to obey the parameters you’ve set for behavior. Why? Because you want your kids to have a fulfilling, happy life while avoiding as much unnecessary pain as possible. And in my opinion, you are fully qualified to do this because you are wiser than your kids. Hmmm, to me it sounds a lot like God’s relationship with us.
In my opinion, modern history offers no better example of “unrestrained secular freedom” than Hunter S. Thompson. He had talent, money, and fame. He lived in a beautiful area, where his neighbors not only put up with his life of excess—they applauded it, and encouraged it. He did exactly what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. He was, in a way, even above the law, as any other well-known drug abuser would have long since been thrown in jail. He could do virtually anything, and his fans in Aspen would say simply, “Oh, that’s Hunter. He’s our town nut, but we love him.”
He had total, secular freedom. And yet, he killed himself.
Shouldn’t this tell us something?
Seeing God Thru Your Dog
Sometimes when I struggle to understand an issue concerning God, I think about our human relationship with the world’s greatest animal, the dog.
Man, I love dogs. I love everything about dogs. Just watching the slack-jawed way they bumble through life makes me laugh. It is not an understatement to say that dogs are one of the great joys of my life, and very few things fill my heart more than watching dogs playing with each other. And perhaps, just perhaps, God’s relationship with humans is like a dog-lovers relationship with dogs.
Imagine, first of all, a room full of puppies, and they all belong to you. Wouldn’t the sight of them fill you with love and happiness? You wouldn’t really expect much of them in the big scheme of things because, well, they are dogs, but you’d love them anyway. You’d watch them do their knuckleheaded antics, and you’d smile, and you’d feel good knowing you were going to provide for them. All you’d expect from them in return would be love, and some minor obedience.
And this makes me wonder, sometimes: Does God look at us humans similarly? Does He watch us in His brilliance and perfection and say, “They ain’t perfect, but they’re mine, and love I them. They make me happy.”
Also, consider this: We dog lovers do plenty of things to our dogs for which we have a “morally sufficient reason,” which the dog finds horrifying nonetheless.
Ever been neutered? Didn’t think so. But even the most ardent dog lover will subject their beloved pet to this procedure because “it’s for a good reason.” Think your dog understands this higher reasoning? Me neither. So let’s ask ourselves this: Is this the sort of thing that God has to go through when dealing with suffering and evil in the world? That He hates evil too, but allows it to happen for a “morally sufficient reason” that we cannot understand?
What about when a dog that’s never caused you a lick of trouble bites the neighbor’s kid in the face? It’s your dog, but is it your fault? (Television lawyers need not answer the previous question). Aren’t you sad that it happened? Could you have avoided it? Sure, you could’ve put the dog to sleep when it grew teeth. You didn’t, however, because you hoped the dog would live a good and loving life. Is it possible that God views us the same way, knowing full well that we all have the potential to be good and loving people?
Understandably, many folks object to my dog analogies because they’re too simplistic-- but wouldn’t the same idea stand up if we were talking about parents and their little children? It’s really the same thing: The parent sees and understands a big picture that the child does not. Because of this, the kids are not allowed to sword fight with knives, and are required to go to the doctor for painful shots, whether they like it or not. The parent understands realities the child doesn’t, so the parent gets stuck being the heavy. You’ve no doubt seen the parent who tries to be a “best friend” instead of a parent…does it work? Nope. Perhaps God operates within similar parameters.
I think we’re all guilty, at one time or another, of thinking of God as a really, really, really smart and wise entity who sees the world much as we do. And that’s the real point where my dog analogies fall apart. Why? Because I’m trying to see and understand the world through the eyes of the God who invented all things, and it’s not possible to do so.
Yes, the dog analogies help me get a glimpse of the complexities, but the fact is that the realities of the universe are way over our human brains, and trying to think them through armed with only human logic is like taking on a grizzly bear with a pen knife.
Consider even the simplest of issues: God has been around forever. We humans can’t even fathom the word forever. If you had the time span represented by “forever,” you could individually number every grain of sand on every beach in the world. And you could build a museum to house each grain of sand on the East Coast. By yourself. Without tools. Sounds impossible? If you had forever, you’d have it done before your morning coffee.
Because we are human, and cannot stand our inability to comprehend concepts like the concept of forever, we try to think our way out of it. We’ve even come up with the theory that the universe has an edge, and there’s a non-universe that it’s expanding into.
Really? Are there signs at the edge that say “There Be Dragons Here”? The hard fact is that we humans hate confronting issues where our logic fails us, and thus we tend to reduce these issues to vague scientific theory. We simply cannot see the universe through God’s eyes, so we stubbornly attempt to force square pegs into the round holes.
So… is it possible we can better understand God’s relationship with us by considering our relationship with our dogs? Perhaps, in limited cases. There is, however, one really big difference: Our dogs love us no matter what.
Man, I love dogs. I love everything about dogs. Just watching the slack-jawed way they bumble through life makes me laugh. It is not an understatement to say that dogs are one of the great joys of my life, and very few things fill my heart more than watching dogs playing with each other. And perhaps, just perhaps, God’s relationship with humans is like a dog-lovers relationship with dogs.
Imagine, first of all, a room full of puppies, and they all belong to you. Wouldn’t the sight of them fill you with love and happiness? You wouldn’t really expect much of them in the big scheme of things because, well, they are dogs, but you’d love them anyway. You’d watch them do their knuckleheaded antics, and you’d smile, and you’d feel good knowing you were going to provide for them. All you’d expect from them in return would be love, and some minor obedience.
And this makes me wonder, sometimes: Does God look at us humans similarly? Does He watch us in His brilliance and perfection and say, “They ain’t perfect, but they’re mine, and love I them. They make me happy.”
Also, consider this: We dog lovers do plenty of things to our dogs for which we have a “morally sufficient reason,” which the dog finds horrifying nonetheless.
Ever been neutered? Didn’t think so. But even the most ardent dog lover will subject their beloved pet to this procedure because “it’s for a good reason.” Think your dog understands this higher reasoning? Me neither. So let’s ask ourselves this: Is this the sort of thing that God has to go through when dealing with suffering and evil in the world? That He hates evil too, but allows it to happen for a “morally sufficient reason” that we cannot understand?
What about when a dog that’s never caused you a lick of trouble bites the neighbor’s kid in the face? It’s your dog, but is it your fault? (Television lawyers need not answer the previous question). Aren’t you sad that it happened? Could you have avoided it? Sure, you could’ve put the dog to sleep when it grew teeth. You didn’t, however, because you hoped the dog would live a good and loving life. Is it possible that God views us the same way, knowing full well that we all have the potential to be good and loving people?
Understandably, many folks object to my dog analogies because they’re too simplistic-- but wouldn’t the same idea stand up if we were talking about parents and their little children? It’s really the same thing: The parent sees and understands a big picture that the child does not. Because of this, the kids are not allowed to sword fight with knives, and are required to go to the doctor for painful shots, whether they like it or not. The parent understands realities the child doesn’t, so the parent gets stuck being the heavy. You’ve no doubt seen the parent who tries to be a “best friend” instead of a parent…does it work? Nope. Perhaps God operates within similar parameters.
I think we’re all guilty, at one time or another, of thinking of God as a really, really, really smart and wise entity who sees the world much as we do. And that’s the real point where my dog analogies fall apart. Why? Because I’m trying to see and understand the world through the eyes of the God who invented all things, and it’s not possible to do so.
Yes, the dog analogies help me get a glimpse of the complexities, but the fact is that the realities of the universe are way over our human brains, and trying to think them through armed with only human logic is like taking on a grizzly bear with a pen knife.
Consider even the simplest of issues: God has been around forever. We humans can’t even fathom the word forever. If you had the time span represented by “forever,” you could individually number every grain of sand on every beach in the world. And you could build a museum to house each grain of sand on the East Coast. By yourself. Without tools. Sounds impossible? If you had forever, you’d have it done before your morning coffee.
Because we are human, and cannot stand our inability to comprehend concepts like the concept of forever, we try to think our way out of it. We’ve even come up with the theory that the universe has an edge, and there’s a non-universe that it’s expanding into.
Really? Are there signs at the edge that say “There Be Dragons Here”? The hard fact is that we humans hate confronting issues where our logic fails us, and thus we tend to reduce these issues to vague scientific theory. We simply cannot see the universe through God’s eyes, so we stubbornly attempt to force square pegs into the round holes.
So… is it possible we can better understand God’s relationship with us by considering our relationship with our dogs? Perhaps, in limited cases. There is, however, one really big difference: Our dogs love us no matter what.
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