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.
Friday, February 19, 2010
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.
Christianity 101 via The Alpha Course
In my humble opinion, one of the greatest challenges facing the growth of Christianity today is the fact that we Christians aren’t trained to explain our faith.
We try, of course, and some are better than others, but it’s no easy task. Christianity is a very broad topic, and it’s tough to put into conversational language. The problem is often exacerbated by the fact that some non-Christians feel like it’s their duty to object to your ideas every time you take a breath. Here’s an analogous conversation using history instead of Christianity:
Seeker: Why are you so into American history, man? I don’t get it.
Me: Because it’s important. It’s our culture, our customs, our--
Seeker: Well, maybe, if you believe what was written is true.
Me: Of course it’s true. There’s loads of evidence that--
Seeker: Then how come American history focuses on white, European males?
Me: Uh, because they accomplished the most stuff in American history?
Seeker: Oh, so they’re better and smarter than everyone else?
Me: No! They also made the big mistakes! We can learn from--
Seeker: That’s not true. They covered up their mistakes.
Me: How do you cover up your mistakes from history?
Seeker: Because the winners decide what gets written.
Me: So you think there’s nothing to learn from American history?
Seeker: Not unless it includes the written perspective of an American Indian. What do you think about that?
Me: About American Indians?
Seeker: Yeah.
Me: I’m all for them. My wife is one-quarter Cherokee. In fact, I wish an American Indian was here right now. Maybe he’d be willing to tomahawk me in the head so I could get out of this conversation.
It’s hard stuff, I tell you.
There is, however, hope for the evangelism efforts of folks like me. It’s called the Alpha Course. Alpha was developed in London, England, at a church called Holy Trinity Brompton, and in layman’s terms Alpha is a fun, casual, interesting course in Christianity 101. If you like, you can view it as simply a continuing education course on “What Christians Believe.”
Since its development some 20 years ago, Alpha has spread across the entire globe, and currently experienced its eleven millionth graduate. The format for the course is exceedingly simple, as it’s little more than “dinner and a movie,” with the movie being a video presentation of the Rev. Nicky Gumbel giving a talk about some facet of Christianity. Guests are encouraged to wear whatever makes them comfortable, even if it’s flip-flops and a t-shirt.
The approach Alpha takes is very much in the C.S. Lewis tradition of explaining the faith. Yes, of course, I understand that Christianity isn’t a purely intellectual pursuit. Faith is an eventual must, because one must “choose to believe in Jesus Christ in order to truly understand the faith.” And this is where the Alpha course is so fantastic: It helps knuckleheads like me to move from “not believing” to “kinda getting it” to finally “believing.”
It allows you to put your toe in, and feel the water’s temperature. By the end of the course, you’ve been immersed in some of Christianity’s deepest waters. What you do with the experience is up to you: A few folks dry off and move on, while others spend the rest of their lives trying to be better swimmers. In short, the Alpha Course covers the topics you need to get started.
Among the topics are: Who is Jesus? Why did Jesus have to die? How can I be sure of my faith? How and why should I read the Bible? How and why should I pray? Who is the Holy Spirit, and what does he do?
The presentations are fun, funny, and relevant, and if you are breathing you’re sure to enjoy the speaking style of Rev. Nicky Gumbel. He clearly has a passion for the subject, but he also has the gift of placing himself in the shoes of the non-believers in the audience. I’ve never met a single Alpha attendee who didn’t enjoy the video presentations that Nicky provides.
I think it’s important that I comment on why my wife Heidi and I feel that promoting the Alpha Course here in the United States is so important, and the reason is this: When someone from the deepest jungles of Cambodia shows up at the Pearly Gates, they can at least say to their Creator, “Wow… I never heard a word about this. Can you explain it to me?”
I can’t help but believe our Merciful God will act with mercy towards this person. An American, having been born and raised in the modern world’s most Christian nation, will have no choice but to say, “Well, I heard about this stuff, but I didn’t have time to really look into it. But I was a good person, and that’s good enough, right?” Unfortunately, the Bible is quite clear that being a “good person” isn’t good enough.
Allow me this analogy: You can’t RSVP to God’s dinner party if you never get an invitation. But we Americans have received at least an indirect invitation. Whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with this fact. And while it’s none of my business if you choose to RSVP or not, it’s my hope that you’ll at least take an Alpha course to learn the basic RSVP etiquette.
Why? Because when you die, you’re going to dine somewhere… and the Bible makes clear it that God won’t allow you to join His dinner party unless you took the time (in advance) to acknowledge His invitation, and thank Him for inviting you.
For information on an Alpha Course near you, go to www.alphausa.org, click on the “Find a Course” button, and type in your zip code. Hey, Bear Grylls did Alpha... come discover what he did!
We try, of course, and some are better than others, but it’s no easy task. Christianity is a very broad topic, and it’s tough to put into conversational language. The problem is often exacerbated by the fact that some non-Christians feel like it’s their duty to object to your ideas every time you take a breath. Here’s an analogous conversation using history instead of Christianity:
Seeker: Why are you so into American history, man? I don’t get it.
Me: Because it’s important. It’s our culture, our customs, our--
Seeker: Well, maybe, if you believe what was written is true.
Me: Of course it’s true. There’s loads of evidence that--
Seeker: Then how come American history focuses on white, European males?
Me: Uh, because they accomplished the most stuff in American history?
Seeker: Oh, so they’re better and smarter than everyone else?
Me: No! They also made the big mistakes! We can learn from--
Seeker: That’s not true. They covered up their mistakes.
Me: How do you cover up your mistakes from history?
Seeker: Because the winners decide what gets written.
Me: So you think there’s nothing to learn from American history?
Seeker: Not unless it includes the written perspective of an American Indian. What do you think about that?
Me: About American Indians?
Seeker: Yeah.
Me: I’m all for them. My wife is one-quarter Cherokee. In fact, I wish an American Indian was here right now. Maybe he’d be willing to tomahawk me in the head so I could get out of this conversation.
It’s hard stuff, I tell you.
There is, however, hope for the evangelism efforts of folks like me. It’s called the Alpha Course. Alpha was developed in London, England, at a church called Holy Trinity Brompton, and in layman’s terms Alpha is a fun, casual, interesting course in Christianity 101. If you like, you can view it as simply a continuing education course on “What Christians Believe.”
Since its development some 20 years ago, Alpha has spread across the entire globe, and currently experienced its eleven millionth graduate. The format for the course is exceedingly simple, as it’s little more than “dinner and a movie,” with the movie being a video presentation of the Rev. Nicky Gumbel giving a talk about some facet of Christianity. Guests are encouraged to wear whatever makes them comfortable, even if it’s flip-flops and a t-shirt.
The approach Alpha takes is very much in the C.S. Lewis tradition of explaining the faith. Yes, of course, I understand that Christianity isn’t a purely intellectual pursuit. Faith is an eventual must, because one must “choose to believe in Jesus Christ in order to truly understand the faith.” And this is where the Alpha course is so fantastic: It helps knuckleheads like me to move from “not believing” to “kinda getting it” to finally “believing.”
It allows you to put your toe in, and feel the water’s temperature. By the end of the course, you’ve been immersed in some of Christianity’s deepest waters. What you do with the experience is up to you: A few folks dry off and move on, while others spend the rest of their lives trying to be better swimmers. In short, the Alpha Course covers the topics you need to get started.
Among the topics are: Who is Jesus? Why did Jesus have to die? How can I be sure of my faith? How and why should I read the Bible? How and why should I pray? Who is the Holy Spirit, and what does he do?
The presentations are fun, funny, and relevant, and if you are breathing you’re sure to enjoy the speaking style of Rev. Nicky Gumbel. He clearly has a passion for the subject, but he also has the gift of placing himself in the shoes of the non-believers in the audience. I’ve never met a single Alpha attendee who didn’t enjoy the video presentations that Nicky provides.
I think it’s important that I comment on why my wife Heidi and I feel that promoting the Alpha Course here in the United States is so important, and the reason is this: When someone from the deepest jungles of Cambodia shows up at the Pearly Gates, they can at least say to their Creator, “Wow… I never heard a word about this. Can you explain it to me?”
I can’t help but believe our Merciful God will act with mercy towards this person. An American, having been born and raised in the modern world’s most Christian nation, will have no choice but to say, “Well, I heard about this stuff, but I didn’t have time to really look into it. But I was a good person, and that’s good enough, right?” Unfortunately, the Bible is quite clear that being a “good person” isn’t good enough.
Allow me this analogy: You can’t RSVP to God’s dinner party if you never get an invitation. But we Americans have received at least an indirect invitation. Whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with this fact. And while it’s none of my business if you choose to RSVP or not, it’s my hope that you’ll at least take an Alpha course to learn the basic RSVP etiquette.
Why? Because when you die, you’re going to dine somewhere… and the Bible makes clear it that God won’t allow you to join His dinner party unless you took the time (in advance) to acknowledge His invitation, and thank Him for inviting you.
For information on an Alpha Course near you, go to www.alphausa.org, click on the “Find a Course” button, and type in your zip code. Hey, Bear Grylls did Alpha... come discover what he did!
Undrestanding the Word "Love"
Although my wife and I are currently doing a fair bit of work for “the church,” I for one am still pretty new to the faith—and I’ve encountered a lot of issues that I find to be confusing and a bit intimidating.
One of those issues, quite frankly, is the frequent use of the word “love.” God loves me; Jesus loves me; I’m supposed to love them; I’m supposed to love my enemies—the list goes on. I found it confusing because I understand only two kinds of love: the kind of “love” I have for my family and friends, and the kind of “in love” I have for my wife. To be honest with you, all the “loving” going on in the practice of Christianity kind of weirded me out.
Anyway, let me get to my point about my new understanding of the “L” word: When I was a young man, I went into the Marines as an officer. It was the hardest thing I could think of to do at that age, and it was my “call of the wild.” It tested my mental limits, my physical limits, and I hoped it would one day test the limits of my courage. I could think of nothing more thrilling than to lead a platoon of Marines into the jaws of combat, and earn honor for my Marines and myself. It was the dream of an idealistic, young man I knew a long time ago.
I was trained, of course, as a leader…I was taught that I would lead the platoon, but I would not walk point myself. I would give the orders to fire and maneuver, but I would not personally rush the machine gun nest myself.
This is not to say a Marine Lieutenant is not always out front. They are, and casualty figures demonstrate this fact clearly, but when someone has to be specifically picked for an extremely dangerous or deadly job, it’s not supposed to be the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant is the man with the plan, and it is his specific duty to stay alive and lead his men as long as possible. This is a basic military fact that’s been around as long as gunpowder, and I understood it well.
Yes, in the long run I may die in combat, but I would be asked to make hard decisions before I fell. Namely, I would be asked to order some of my Marines on missions they would not survive. No problem, I thought—I was a well-trained professional, and everyone who wears the uniform knows the rules of the game.
But, a strange thing happened. I was assigned to my platoon, and stayed with them for almost two years. I got to know “my boys,” and learned things about them their parents didn’t even know. Some were exceptional, some were good, and some were pretty-much knuckleheads, but they were my men. I trained with them, ate with them, suffered with them, disciplined them—and was responsible for everything they did, or failed to do.
And over time, as I grew to better understand the fire and honor that burned inside each of them, I grew to love them. I loved them, perhaps, more than anything I’ve ever loved, outside my wife and family. My desire to serve my country and accomplish my mission decreased as my desire to serve them increased. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for them, and I certainly wouldn’t have sent one of them to die without me out front, taking the first bullet. Did this decrease my effectiveness as a Platoon Commander? Yes, absolutely—but I did not care. These were my Marines, and they were more valuable to me than Corps and Country.
Eventually, I was promoted “above” the position of Platoon Commander, and a couple years later, I was once again a civilian. As the years went by, I would look back with great fondness on my days as a Marine, but I tried not to dwell on it—life is in the now, and in the future.
Fast-forward to 2002—I was reading a book called Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield, which is an historical novel of the Spartans of ancient Greece, who were by any standards the toughest, most disciplined warriors to have ever lived. And in his novel, Pressfield brought together a concept that changed everything for me.
You see, as a former Marine, I still believed that the opposite of fear was courage. I thought it was courage I would bring to the field of battle, which would enable me to die for my men. My courage would ensure that I would make whatever sacrifice was necessary. But Pressfield clarified my thinking. In telling the story of the Spartans at Thermopylae, he helped me understand the truth: The opposite of fear is not courage—the opposite of fear is love. Only love – the ultimate tie that binds – makes one man willing to die for another.
This, I now believe, is the love Christ has for us. Much as I saw through the human faults and human shortcomings of my Marines, so Christ sees through our faults. And much as I saw the honor and loyalty in my Marines that made them worthy of love, so Christ sees all of the things that make each of us worth loving. In fact, Christ sees all the way through us, as if he’s looking through a spring-cleaned window, and it is that ability that enables him to see the nuggets of worthiness inside the lousiest of people.
For me, the many uses of the word love in Christianity are easier to understand now that I understand the word “love” has different meanings. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some Christians who are “in love” with Jesus. I’ve even heard of it described as a feeling of “sober intoxication.”
But I think that comes with time and prayer, and even then doesn’t come to everyone. God alone decides who gets what. But what I’m saying is this: We Christians believe God loves us infinitely more than we humans can love each other—so much so that, in order to serve and save us He watched as his own Son was nailed to a cross and left to die an agonizing death.
Now, if there’s a one in ten million chance that Christianity is the Truth, and that God did do that for you and me, doesn’t that make it worth your while to investigate the topic further?
One of those issues, quite frankly, is the frequent use of the word “love.” God loves me; Jesus loves me; I’m supposed to love them; I’m supposed to love my enemies—the list goes on. I found it confusing because I understand only two kinds of love: the kind of “love” I have for my family and friends, and the kind of “in love” I have for my wife. To be honest with you, all the “loving” going on in the practice of Christianity kind of weirded me out.
Anyway, let me get to my point about my new understanding of the “L” word: When I was a young man, I went into the Marines as an officer. It was the hardest thing I could think of to do at that age, and it was my “call of the wild.” It tested my mental limits, my physical limits, and I hoped it would one day test the limits of my courage. I could think of nothing more thrilling than to lead a platoon of Marines into the jaws of combat, and earn honor for my Marines and myself. It was the dream of an idealistic, young man I knew a long time ago.
I was trained, of course, as a leader…I was taught that I would lead the platoon, but I would not walk point myself. I would give the orders to fire and maneuver, but I would not personally rush the machine gun nest myself.
This is not to say a Marine Lieutenant is not always out front. They are, and casualty figures demonstrate this fact clearly, but when someone has to be specifically picked for an extremely dangerous or deadly job, it’s not supposed to be the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant is the man with the plan, and it is his specific duty to stay alive and lead his men as long as possible. This is a basic military fact that’s been around as long as gunpowder, and I understood it well.
Yes, in the long run I may die in combat, but I would be asked to make hard decisions before I fell. Namely, I would be asked to order some of my Marines on missions they would not survive. No problem, I thought—I was a well-trained professional, and everyone who wears the uniform knows the rules of the game.
But, a strange thing happened. I was assigned to my platoon, and stayed with them for almost two years. I got to know “my boys,” and learned things about them their parents didn’t even know. Some were exceptional, some were good, and some were pretty-much knuckleheads, but they were my men. I trained with them, ate with them, suffered with them, disciplined them—and was responsible for everything they did, or failed to do.
And over time, as I grew to better understand the fire and honor that burned inside each of them, I grew to love them. I loved them, perhaps, more than anything I’ve ever loved, outside my wife and family. My desire to serve my country and accomplish my mission decreased as my desire to serve them increased. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for them, and I certainly wouldn’t have sent one of them to die without me out front, taking the first bullet. Did this decrease my effectiveness as a Platoon Commander? Yes, absolutely—but I did not care. These were my Marines, and they were more valuable to me than Corps and Country.
Eventually, I was promoted “above” the position of Platoon Commander, and a couple years later, I was once again a civilian. As the years went by, I would look back with great fondness on my days as a Marine, but I tried not to dwell on it—life is in the now, and in the future.
Fast-forward to 2002—I was reading a book called Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield, which is an historical novel of the Spartans of ancient Greece, who were by any standards the toughest, most disciplined warriors to have ever lived. And in his novel, Pressfield brought together a concept that changed everything for me.
You see, as a former Marine, I still believed that the opposite of fear was courage. I thought it was courage I would bring to the field of battle, which would enable me to die for my men. My courage would ensure that I would make whatever sacrifice was necessary. But Pressfield clarified my thinking. In telling the story of the Spartans at Thermopylae, he helped me understand the truth: The opposite of fear is not courage—the opposite of fear is love. Only love – the ultimate tie that binds – makes one man willing to die for another.
This, I now believe, is the love Christ has for us. Much as I saw through the human faults and human shortcomings of my Marines, so Christ sees through our faults. And much as I saw the honor and loyalty in my Marines that made them worthy of love, so Christ sees all of the things that make each of us worth loving. In fact, Christ sees all the way through us, as if he’s looking through a spring-cleaned window, and it is that ability that enables him to see the nuggets of worthiness inside the lousiest of people.
For me, the many uses of the word love in Christianity are easier to understand now that I understand the word “love” has different meanings. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some Christians who are “in love” with Jesus. I’ve even heard of it described as a feeling of “sober intoxication.”
But I think that comes with time and prayer, and even then doesn’t come to everyone. God alone decides who gets what. But what I’m saying is this: We Christians believe God loves us infinitely more than we humans can love each other—so much so that, in order to serve and save us He watched as his own Son was nailed to a cross and left to die an agonizing death.
Now, if there’s a one in ten million chance that Christianity is the Truth, and that God did do that for you and me, doesn’t that make it worth your while to investigate the topic further?
What If God Was One Of Us?
The “average American” has an interesting view on religion: This person certainly isn’t an Atheist, but on the other hand isn’t so sure of the Christianity thing, either.
If that’s the case with you, then you and I have at least one very big thing in common: We both believe in God. And if you believe in God, you probably believe in some sort of afterlife. You’re not sure what, but it only makes sense to you that our human qualities like logic, reason, conscience, and love separate us from the average beast of the forest. (In short, you don’t believe your ultimate fate is to become nothing more than worm dirt.)
Now, a funny thing happens when many people think about God: Due to the limitations of human insight, they think of God as a loving but stern grandfather figure. You know, like a celestial Ronald Reagan. So ask yourself this question: Do you think God is a regular guy? Do you think you will stand in front of the Creator of everything in his Perfect Goodness, and have a casual conversation where you convince him to see things your way? Perhaps like this:
You: God! Wassup? I got mowed over by a bus, so here I am.
God: Well, welcome Little Buddy.
You: Thanks, Man. Hey, where do I get my halo-thingy and wings?
God: Well, first we must check your record to see if you qualify to get in.
You: Qualify? Dude, it’s not like I murdered anyone! I was a good guy. Sure, I had my faults, but, hey, who doesn’t? Damn, Dude, you think you’re perfect or something? Let’s knock all this off, let me in, and let’s go grab a beer. I got some funny stories to tell you.
God: Okay, you’ve got a point. Sometimes I get on my High, Pale Horse, being the Ruler of the Universe. I’m sorry. Come on in, and let’s throw some lighting bolts at everyone who ever did you wrong.
You: Now you’re talking! High five!
Do you really think this is a possible scenario? When you stand before your Creator, and the moment of judgment has arrived, that you will be able to do a fist-bump and “bullshit” your way in? If that’s your plan, you’re braver than me.
Why? Because God Almighty is not a regular guy. He is God, and He is perfect: Excuses that we made mistakes because we were drunk, or stoned, or horny, or mad, or hurt, or confused, or tired, or jealous, or envious, or scared, or trying to be funny don’t carry much weight with a guy who has never succumbed to those feelings.
Fortunately, however, God’s son Jesus was human at one point, so Jesus understands what it’s like to walk around in this body, stuck with this brain. And because of this, Jesus acts as our advocate before God. With Jesus, when you get run over by a bus, you get to have this conversation:
You: Jesus? Is that actually you?
Jesus: It’s me.
You: Wow! Well, I’m here for judgment.
Jesus: Man, I would not want to be you.
You: Is it that hard to get in?
Jesus: Imagine watching a videotape of every single lousy thing you ever did, said, or thought, then seeing the pain you caused others by doing all those things.
You: Do I get any credit for having accepted you?
Jesus: Hold the phone! Are you saying you admitted you were a sinner, then asked me to come into your life and forgive you?
You: Yes.
Jesus: Holy Smokes, we have a winner! Well done, Lad! You must’ve found one of the de-coder rings I left behind!
You: Come again?
Jesus: I'm just busting your onions. I was talking about the Bible. Lighten up. I already paid your ransom, so you get to come in.
You: Awesome! Can you explain why does it work like that?
Jesus: Ahh, yes. Lots of people ask that. You’ll be invited to a class that explains it after you’ve matured spiritually for about 500 trillion years.
At this point, most seekers like to play mental gymnastics by asking: a) Does that mean Adolf Hitler could’ve become a believer, repented, and gotten to Heaven? b) If Christ is the “Truth and the Way,” why doesn’t He appear before me, and tell me so?
Let me answer the Hitler question first. The answer, in short, is “yes,” that’s what Jesus said. He didn’t ask us to understand why, he just told us to listen. Do I understand it? No. I do not understand how mass murderers can be forgiven, but I’m not asked to understand. I think my ability to think through the complexities of this issue is about the same of as an Irish Setter thinking through the need for tort reform. The fact is that there is no one so bad that God doesn’t have the capacity to forgive them, if they ask him to.
On the issue of “why doesn’t Jesus just appear before me,” I offer this modern analogy. Let’s say that you are the CEO of Microsoft: You are the richest man on the planet, and certainly one of the most powerful. Now let’s say you decide you want Microsoft to become a nonsmoking company. What do you do? You call together the team you’ve picked as the company’s leaders, and you say, “I’ve made a decision. Microsoft is now a smoke-free company. Pass the word.”
Do you have to meet with every employee and tell them? Hear them out, in case they object? Grant them a personal audience, so they’ll “believe” it was you who actually issued the order?
Of course not! Why? Because you’re the CEO, that’s why! You made your decision, and told your people to pass the word. Now, let’s suppose some employee doesn’t comply, and ignores the directive, because you didn’t appear before them personally—What then? Well, I’m thinking that probably tries your patience. But you assume their
supervisors, co-workers, and underlings will help them to see the light-- because one day, when you walk into their office and find an ashtray on the desk, there will be hell to pay.
Now if my analogy for a CEO makes sense, what do you figure the Creator of the Universe feels about it?
He sent His son to earth to die a horrible death so that you and I could have a bridge to reach Him. He clearly gave the directive for those who discover the news to go out and tell other people about it.
What He did not say is, “Go tell people about me—and anyone with issues can click their heels three times and I’ll appear before them as a Burning Bush for a little Q and A. And some miracles.” God gave a directive to spread the word; the decision to listen is up to the individual.
Are there things I don’t understand? Absolutely. Do I wish I had God’s direct-dial phone number? Absolutely. Would I ask him about suffering, Noah’s Ark, other religions, and what happens to that other sock in the dryer? You betcha.
But the bottom line is we’ve got what we got, and if you agree with my theory that God isn’t a regular Joe Trillion-Pack, we should each do our best to study and understand the information available. This is a topic of eternal importance, and you don’t want your human ego to cause you to win the battle, and lose the war.
If that’s the case with you, then you and I have at least one very big thing in common: We both believe in God. And if you believe in God, you probably believe in some sort of afterlife. You’re not sure what, but it only makes sense to you that our human qualities like logic, reason, conscience, and love separate us from the average beast of the forest. (In short, you don’t believe your ultimate fate is to become nothing more than worm dirt.)
Now, a funny thing happens when many people think about God: Due to the limitations of human insight, they think of God as a loving but stern grandfather figure. You know, like a celestial Ronald Reagan. So ask yourself this question: Do you think God is a regular guy? Do you think you will stand in front of the Creator of everything in his Perfect Goodness, and have a casual conversation where you convince him to see things your way? Perhaps like this:
You: God! Wassup? I got mowed over by a bus, so here I am.
God: Well, welcome Little Buddy.
You: Thanks, Man. Hey, where do I get my halo-thingy and wings?
God: Well, first we must check your record to see if you qualify to get in.
You: Qualify? Dude, it’s not like I murdered anyone! I was a good guy. Sure, I had my faults, but, hey, who doesn’t? Damn, Dude, you think you’re perfect or something? Let’s knock all this off, let me in, and let’s go grab a beer. I got some funny stories to tell you.
God: Okay, you’ve got a point. Sometimes I get on my High, Pale Horse, being the Ruler of the Universe. I’m sorry. Come on in, and let’s throw some lighting bolts at everyone who ever did you wrong.
You: Now you’re talking! High five!
Do you really think this is a possible scenario? When you stand before your Creator, and the moment of judgment has arrived, that you will be able to do a fist-bump and “bullshit” your way in? If that’s your plan, you’re braver than me.
Why? Because God Almighty is not a regular guy. He is God, and He is perfect: Excuses that we made mistakes because we were drunk, or stoned, or horny, or mad, or hurt, or confused, or tired, or jealous, or envious, or scared, or trying to be funny don’t carry much weight with a guy who has never succumbed to those feelings.
Fortunately, however, God’s son Jesus was human at one point, so Jesus understands what it’s like to walk around in this body, stuck with this brain. And because of this, Jesus acts as our advocate before God. With Jesus, when you get run over by a bus, you get to have this conversation:
You: Jesus? Is that actually you?
Jesus: It’s me.
You: Wow! Well, I’m here for judgment.
Jesus: Man, I would not want to be you.
You: Is it that hard to get in?
Jesus: Imagine watching a videotape of every single lousy thing you ever did, said, or thought, then seeing the pain you caused others by doing all those things.
You: Do I get any credit for having accepted you?
Jesus: Hold the phone! Are you saying you admitted you were a sinner, then asked me to come into your life and forgive you?
You: Yes.
Jesus: Holy Smokes, we have a winner! Well done, Lad! You must’ve found one of the de-coder rings I left behind!
You: Come again?
Jesus: I'm just busting your onions. I was talking about the Bible. Lighten up. I already paid your ransom, so you get to come in.
You: Awesome! Can you explain why does it work like that?
Jesus: Ahh, yes. Lots of people ask that. You’ll be invited to a class that explains it after you’ve matured spiritually for about 500 trillion years.
At this point, most seekers like to play mental gymnastics by asking: a) Does that mean Adolf Hitler could’ve become a believer, repented, and gotten to Heaven? b) If Christ is the “Truth and the Way,” why doesn’t He appear before me, and tell me so?
Let me answer the Hitler question first. The answer, in short, is “yes,” that’s what Jesus said. He didn’t ask us to understand why, he just told us to listen. Do I understand it? No. I do not understand how mass murderers can be forgiven, but I’m not asked to understand. I think my ability to think through the complexities of this issue is about the same of as an Irish Setter thinking through the need for tort reform. The fact is that there is no one so bad that God doesn’t have the capacity to forgive them, if they ask him to.
On the issue of “why doesn’t Jesus just appear before me,” I offer this modern analogy. Let’s say that you are the CEO of Microsoft: You are the richest man on the planet, and certainly one of the most powerful. Now let’s say you decide you want Microsoft to become a nonsmoking company. What do you do? You call together the team you’ve picked as the company’s leaders, and you say, “I’ve made a decision. Microsoft is now a smoke-free company. Pass the word.”
Do you have to meet with every employee and tell them? Hear them out, in case they object? Grant them a personal audience, so they’ll “believe” it was you who actually issued the order?
Of course not! Why? Because you’re the CEO, that’s why! You made your decision, and told your people to pass the word. Now, let’s suppose some employee doesn’t comply, and ignores the directive, because you didn’t appear before them personally—What then? Well, I’m thinking that probably tries your patience. But you assume their
supervisors, co-workers, and underlings will help them to see the light-- because one day, when you walk into their office and find an ashtray on the desk, there will be hell to pay.
Now if my analogy for a CEO makes sense, what do you figure the Creator of the Universe feels about it?
He sent His son to earth to die a horrible death so that you and I could have a bridge to reach Him. He clearly gave the directive for those who discover the news to go out and tell other people about it.
What He did not say is, “Go tell people about me—and anyone with issues can click their heels three times and I’ll appear before them as a Burning Bush for a little Q and A. And some miracles.” God gave a directive to spread the word; the decision to listen is up to the individual.
Are there things I don’t understand? Absolutely. Do I wish I had God’s direct-dial phone number? Absolutely. Would I ask him about suffering, Noah’s Ark, other religions, and what happens to that other sock in the dryer? You betcha.
But the bottom line is we’ve got what we got, and if you agree with my theory that God isn’t a regular Joe Trillion-Pack, we should each do our best to study and understand the information available. This is a topic of eternal importance, and you don’t want your human ego to cause you to win the battle, and lose the war.
The Issue of Suffering in the World
If there’s one primary issue that keeps people from accepting the faith of Christianity, it’s the issue of suffering.
In my opinion, it’s an understandable objection. After all, we Christians profess that God is both All-Powerful and loving—and loves us so much He was willing to send His only Son to the world in order to die on our behalf. Upon hearing this, many Non-Christian reply, “Well, that’s all well and good, but if God loves us so much, why doesn’t he do something about the wars, disease, brutality, and starvation that cause so much suffering? If he’s all-powerful, why doesn’t he just blink them away?”
I wish I could answer that question with a pithy bumper sticker slogan, but it can’t be done. There are, of course, brilliant men who’ve written brilliant books explaining the subject, but that doesn’t do us non-brilliant folks much good—so the end result is a very difficult question that many, many people struggle with.
During the past few years, I’ve developed some theories regarding the issue of suffering. Here they are for your review:
The “Oh, God” Analysis – In the movie Oh, God, John Denver asked George Burns the “suffering” question. George (portraying God) gave a pretty good (although incomplete) answer. He explained that you simply can’t have up without down, in without out, black without white, happiness without sadness, good without bad. In the rules governing existence, everything seems to require a counter-thing in order for it to exist. Quite frankly, that makes sense to me—especially seeing as how I can’t come up with any examples that avoid that rule.
The “Save the Day” Theorem – Is suffering “part of God’s plan?” Yes, it’s certainly possible that suffering is sometimes part of His plan, but it’s not necessarily part of His plan. For instance, I do not believe God had a thing to do with those jets crashing into the World Trade Centers—men made a conscious decision to commit murder, and no one was more saddened than the Man himself. (How can God be saddened if He didn’t stop 9/11 when He could have? Well, imagine your dog mauling the neighbor’s toddler…did you do it? Did you want it to happen? Then why didn’t you put the dog to sleep when it grew teeth?) God doesn’t just pop in with a defy-the-laws-of-physics level miracle every time there’s a catastrophe brewing. If He did, then skydiving without a parachute would be the most popular sport in the world, Russian Roulette would be a game children played for lunch money, everyone would drive Ninja 1100 motorcycles without a helmet, and we’d actually be living in heaven, not earth, wouldn’t we?
The “Where were you?” Addendum – This is the one most people don’t like to hear…because it points fingers. In short, it’s the idea that God doesn’t allow most of the world’s suffering—you and I do. Your response to this idea is probably “Bull. It’s not my fault there are starving children in Africa.”
And you’re right—starving Africans are not your fault.
But let me ask you this--Has God given you the ability to do anything about this
problem? For instance, how much money have you given to help alleviate the suffering? How many days did you spend in Africa last year helping them improve their lives? “Some money” and “zero days,” right?
Now imagine if every American citizen voluntarily gave 50% of their salary and all their vacation time to help with these problem—now make that every American citizen, plus every American business, plus every loud-mouthed liberal movie star. Even on half-salary, we’d be living like kings compared to those starving African—and together we’d wipe out Africa’s problems of hunger, poverty, and lack of education in less than ten years. (As my wife Heidi says, “Look at what Mother Teresa accomplished using just her hands and her heart!”)
Is this too much to ask?
Too much sacrifice?
Too impossible to orchestrate?
No, you and I choose not to do these things. We could, but we don’t. And that makes it our problem, not God’s. We have the tools, the money, and the expertise—we just use them to improve our own lives, instead of the lives of others.
There are many things that happen in life for no good reason: Childhood cancer, plane crashes, diseases that snatch friends and family away in their prime. Where is God in these instances?
Well, He’s God-- He was in the same place He always is, which is everywhere. He’s right there beside you, and if He doesn’t save the day (for reasons we don’t know right now), He’s there to try and help you pick up the pieces and become a stronger person.
Suffering is extremely hard to understand—but not even the most ardent atheist claims to understand everything, so what you should do is investigate the issue for yourself, and see who makes the most convincing argument.
Why should you take the time to do all this investigating? Well, let me paraphrase C.S. Lewis and the Rev. Nicky Gumble: Christianity can either be the most important thing in the world, or of no importance whatsoever. What it cannot be is mildly important.
In my opinion, it’s an understandable objection. After all, we Christians profess that God is both All-Powerful and loving—and loves us so much He was willing to send His only Son to the world in order to die on our behalf. Upon hearing this, many Non-Christian reply, “Well, that’s all well and good, but if God loves us so much, why doesn’t he do something about the wars, disease, brutality, and starvation that cause so much suffering? If he’s all-powerful, why doesn’t he just blink them away?”
I wish I could answer that question with a pithy bumper sticker slogan, but it can’t be done. There are, of course, brilliant men who’ve written brilliant books explaining the subject, but that doesn’t do us non-brilliant folks much good—so the end result is a very difficult question that many, many people struggle with.
During the past few years, I’ve developed some theories regarding the issue of suffering. Here they are for your review:
The “Oh, God” Analysis – In the movie Oh, God, John Denver asked George Burns the “suffering” question. George (portraying God) gave a pretty good (although incomplete) answer. He explained that you simply can’t have up without down, in without out, black without white, happiness without sadness, good without bad. In the rules governing existence, everything seems to require a counter-thing in order for it to exist. Quite frankly, that makes sense to me—especially seeing as how I can’t come up with any examples that avoid that rule.
The “Save the Day” Theorem – Is suffering “part of God’s plan?” Yes, it’s certainly possible that suffering is sometimes part of His plan, but it’s not necessarily part of His plan. For instance, I do not believe God had a thing to do with those jets crashing into the World Trade Centers—men made a conscious decision to commit murder, and no one was more saddened than the Man himself. (How can God be saddened if He didn’t stop 9/11 when He could have? Well, imagine your dog mauling the neighbor’s toddler…did you do it? Did you want it to happen? Then why didn’t you put the dog to sleep when it grew teeth?) God doesn’t just pop in with a defy-the-laws-of-physics level miracle every time there’s a catastrophe brewing. If He did, then skydiving without a parachute would be the most popular sport in the world, Russian Roulette would be a game children played for lunch money, everyone would drive Ninja 1100 motorcycles without a helmet, and we’d actually be living in heaven, not earth, wouldn’t we?
The “Where were you?” Addendum – This is the one most people don’t like to hear…because it points fingers. In short, it’s the idea that God doesn’t allow most of the world’s suffering—you and I do. Your response to this idea is probably “Bull. It’s not my fault there are starving children in Africa.”
And you’re right—starving Africans are not your fault.
But let me ask you this--Has God given you the ability to do anything about this
problem? For instance, how much money have you given to help alleviate the suffering? How many days did you spend in Africa last year helping them improve their lives? “Some money” and “zero days,” right?
Now imagine if every American citizen voluntarily gave 50% of their salary and all their vacation time to help with these problem—now make that every American citizen, plus every American business, plus every loud-mouthed liberal movie star. Even on half-salary, we’d be living like kings compared to those starving African—and together we’d wipe out Africa’s problems of hunger, poverty, and lack of education in less than ten years. (As my wife Heidi says, “Look at what Mother Teresa accomplished using just her hands and her heart!”)
Is this too much to ask?
Too much sacrifice?
Too impossible to orchestrate?
No, you and I choose not to do these things. We could, but we don’t. And that makes it our problem, not God’s. We have the tools, the money, and the expertise—we just use them to improve our own lives, instead of the lives of others.
There are many things that happen in life for no good reason: Childhood cancer, plane crashes, diseases that snatch friends and family away in their prime. Where is God in these instances?
Well, He’s God-- He was in the same place He always is, which is everywhere. He’s right there beside you, and if He doesn’t save the day (for reasons we don’t know right now), He’s there to try and help you pick up the pieces and become a stronger person.
Suffering is extremely hard to understand—but not even the most ardent atheist claims to understand everything, so what you should do is investigate the issue for yourself, and see who makes the most convincing argument.
Why should you take the time to do all this investigating? Well, let me paraphrase C.S. Lewis and the Rev. Nicky Gumble: Christianity can either be the most important thing in the world, or of no importance whatsoever. What it cannot be is mildly important.
Christianity and Capitalism
Note: This column was written during the boom years, well before the 2008 financial meltdown
Before starting, let me clarify: I am, indeed, a capitalist. Capitalism inspires men to achieve great things, because they are often rewarded for their efforts. I am a capitalist. A capitalist, I am. I have, however, been thinking about the capitalism we are practicing in this country, and I think we have some problems. And I’m not sure we can fix them.
You see, I believe capitalism can only work long-term if it is held in check by a deeply-held moral code. When morality begins to slip, so slip the weak-willed towards the base human lust for money and power.
This concept isn’t new, of course. Back around the turn of the century, our nation was virtually held hostage by the greed of the Robber Barons like Gould, Vanderbilt, Carnegie, Rockefeller, and J.P. Morgan. These guys were, in case you don’t know, got an “F” in Basic Humanity 101. It was a time when the nation was expanding westward, politicians and cops were on the take, and cheap immigrant labor was pouring into the country. The Robber Barons simply figured out the playing field, burned their morals at the alter of the almighty dollar, and went to work. Before long, their system of kickbacks, bribes, and outright murder had them richer than Bill Gates will ever dream of being.
The Robber Barons reign of terror in the United States was so bad, it could have led to a revolt by the masses, and the nation may have collapsed into communism—the Big Brother Soviet Union kind. Fortunately, one man with a moral code, President Teddy Roosevelt, came along and broke up the trusts and monopolies, and sent the Robber Barons to bed with a spanking and no caviar. The moral code of one man saved our nation.
Today, our corporations are operating in much the same way as the Robber Barons. Enron, Global Crossings, Tyco, WorldCom, the list is long. Too long. Employees look the other way, bigwigs cook the books, Wall Street rewards the process, and lawyers protect the whole lot of them.
Even in cases where no one is actively committing a felony, the corporations often act without morality—Consider all the people in last five years that have seen their pensions go poof, while company executives received multi-million dollar bonuses for structuring the deal that made the pension go poof. Of course, it’s not just Wall Street that eggs on this behavior: It’s a well established fact that Wal-Mart doesn’t make most of their money selling to you… they make it by getting their suppliers to mortgage everything to meet their expansive orders, after which Wal-Mart “re-negotiates” the price down to where the supplier is working for virtually no profit, and struggling to stay afloat.
Wal-Mart: Meet our price, or we’ll stop ordering.
Small Supplier: Stop ordering? I built a new plant specifically to fill your orders!
Wal-Mart: Really?
Small Supplier: You knew that. You helped me refine the specs.
Wal-Mart: Oh, in that case, let us rephrase the demand: Meet our price, or die.
This is not capitalism. This is business anarchy.
Even many small businesses are infected by the attitude. Have you noticed how many small businesspeople are no longer satisfied if you, the other business, make any money whatsoever? It’s fine for them to score big with their idea or land development or service, but who are you, trying to make profits from your work? It seems that every deal these days must have a winner and a loser—win-win has become an unacceptable outcome.
Could all of this be because we, as a nation, aren’t going to church anymore? Consider Europe, which is practically socialist now. Friend, the Europeans invented the modern capitalism we practice—they are the ones that exported it to the New World. So what happened? Perhaps they had a big meeting in Switzerland and declared, “Enough of this being rewarded for the fruits of our labors and ideas. Let’s all reinvent ourselves as second-world, McSocialist nations, where we stop being significant.” Do you think? Me neither.
So what happened?
Hard to say, but one thing’s for sure: Christianity has pretty much died off on “the Continent.” Could that be part of it? That with so few Christians around, the morality holding capitalism in check died out, too? And left to their own human devices, things got ugly? That little guys had the motivation beat out of them by the amoral big guys? And big guys got so lazy and arrogant that they quit even trying to hide their greed and corruption? And 1+1 equaled a decline into Socialism?
Yes, I’m sure an economist would poke holes in all my ideas, and would claim the market always corrects itself, and the shareholder must get paid, and I’m just griping because I didn’t invent the Pet Rock. But here’s a fact: We’re the most successful capitalist country in the world. And we’re arguably the longest, most established example of truly successful modern capitalism. But we’re only 225 years old.
Every empire in history has imploded.
Every single one. Most recently, the collection of nations we call Europe.
Why? Why does this happen every time?
I believe it’s because every empire reaches the point where its moral code falls apart, and the empire self-destructs.
But Alexander, and the Greeks, and the Romans, and the Moors, and all the other ancient empires at least had an excuse: They didn’t have God come down and give them the New Testament. They didn’t have God’s Holy Spirit available for counsel.
They didn’t have Jesus Christ, and the ability to say, “What would Jesus do?”
I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that not one single person directly involved in any of corporate America’s recent scandals asked themselves, “What would Jesus do?” Can you imagine all the pain that could have been avoided if they had? Imagine how much better off we’d be if all of us would ask ourselves that question during our daily work: “Okay, this single mother of two has cancer, but the treatment will be expensive—and technically I can deny the claim because her employers failed to file their 2005 SRD forms by the deadline. Hmmm… improve the corporate profits, or pay to treat her cancer? Gee, I wonder what Jesus would do?”
Of course, the amoral capitalist always has a comeback: “It’s business.” “Law of the Jungle.” “Kill or be killed.”
Please.
As if it takes a Colt .45 Peacemaker and a steely nerve to lie on a spreadsheet, or screw an unsuspecting person in a business deal.
Here’s a newsflash of the “Law of the Jungle” types—If you think you’re a real gunslingin’ businessman, go do business with some L.A. street gangs. Get them to commit to a deal, then short them on their percentage. They’ll be real impressed when tell them who your law firm is.
It has been said that democracy can never survive as a permanent form of government, as eventually the people will come to understand that they can vote themselves benefits out of the public coffers. I’m beginning to think unregulated capitalism cannot survive as a permanent economic engine, as those without morals will eventually realize that those “bound” by morals are unprepared to deal with well-planned, methodical treachery.
What’s the alternative? I don’t have one.
Maybe Jesus does. What would Jesus do in this situation?
Ah, yes! He’d probably invite us all to one of His weekly business seminars— He holds them every week at His house.
Before starting, let me clarify: I am, indeed, a capitalist. Capitalism inspires men to achieve great things, because they are often rewarded for their efforts. I am a capitalist. A capitalist, I am. I have, however, been thinking about the capitalism we are practicing in this country, and I think we have some problems. And I’m not sure we can fix them.
You see, I believe capitalism can only work long-term if it is held in check by a deeply-held moral code. When morality begins to slip, so slip the weak-willed towards the base human lust for money and power.
This concept isn’t new, of course. Back around the turn of the century, our nation was virtually held hostage by the greed of the Robber Barons like Gould, Vanderbilt, Carnegie, Rockefeller, and J.P. Morgan. These guys were, in case you don’t know, got an “F” in Basic Humanity 101. It was a time when the nation was expanding westward, politicians and cops were on the take, and cheap immigrant labor was pouring into the country. The Robber Barons simply figured out the playing field, burned their morals at the alter of the almighty dollar, and went to work. Before long, their system of kickbacks, bribes, and outright murder had them richer than Bill Gates will ever dream of being.
The Robber Barons reign of terror in the United States was so bad, it could have led to a revolt by the masses, and the nation may have collapsed into communism—the Big Brother Soviet Union kind. Fortunately, one man with a moral code, President Teddy Roosevelt, came along and broke up the trusts and monopolies, and sent the Robber Barons to bed with a spanking and no caviar. The moral code of one man saved our nation.
Today, our corporations are operating in much the same way as the Robber Barons. Enron, Global Crossings, Tyco, WorldCom, the list is long. Too long. Employees look the other way, bigwigs cook the books, Wall Street rewards the process, and lawyers protect the whole lot of them.
Even in cases where no one is actively committing a felony, the corporations often act without morality—Consider all the people in last five years that have seen their pensions go poof, while company executives received multi-million dollar bonuses for structuring the deal that made the pension go poof. Of course, it’s not just Wall Street that eggs on this behavior: It’s a well established fact that Wal-Mart doesn’t make most of their money selling to you… they make it by getting their suppliers to mortgage everything to meet their expansive orders, after which Wal-Mart “re-negotiates” the price down to where the supplier is working for virtually no profit, and struggling to stay afloat.
Wal-Mart: Meet our price, or we’ll stop ordering.
Small Supplier: Stop ordering? I built a new plant specifically to fill your orders!
Wal-Mart: Really?
Small Supplier: You knew that. You helped me refine the specs.
Wal-Mart: Oh, in that case, let us rephrase the demand: Meet our price, or die.
This is not capitalism. This is business anarchy.
Even many small businesses are infected by the attitude. Have you noticed how many small businesspeople are no longer satisfied if you, the other business, make any money whatsoever? It’s fine for them to score big with their idea or land development or service, but who are you, trying to make profits from your work? It seems that every deal these days must have a winner and a loser—win-win has become an unacceptable outcome.
Could all of this be because we, as a nation, aren’t going to church anymore? Consider Europe, which is practically socialist now. Friend, the Europeans invented the modern capitalism we practice—they are the ones that exported it to the New World. So what happened? Perhaps they had a big meeting in Switzerland and declared, “Enough of this being rewarded for the fruits of our labors and ideas. Let’s all reinvent ourselves as second-world, McSocialist nations, where we stop being significant.” Do you think? Me neither.
So what happened?
Hard to say, but one thing’s for sure: Christianity has pretty much died off on “the Continent.” Could that be part of it? That with so few Christians around, the morality holding capitalism in check died out, too? And left to their own human devices, things got ugly? That little guys had the motivation beat out of them by the amoral big guys? And big guys got so lazy and arrogant that they quit even trying to hide their greed and corruption? And 1+1 equaled a decline into Socialism?
Yes, I’m sure an economist would poke holes in all my ideas, and would claim the market always corrects itself, and the shareholder must get paid, and I’m just griping because I didn’t invent the Pet Rock. But here’s a fact: We’re the most successful capitalist country in the world. And we’re arguably the longest, most established example of truly successful modern capitalism. But we’re only 225 years old.
Every empire in history has imploded.
Every single one. Most recently, the collection of nations we call Europe.
Why? Why does this happen every time?
I believe it’s because every empire reaches the point where its moral code falls apart, and the empire self-destructs.
But Alexander, and the Greeks, and the Romans, and the Moors, and all the other ancient empires at least had an excuse: They didn’t have God come down and give them the New Testament. They didn’t have God’s Holy Spirit available for counsel.
They didn’t have Jesus Christ, and the ability to say, “What would Jesus do?”
I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that not one single person directly involved in any of corporate America’s recent scandals asked themselves, “What would Jesus do?” Can you imagine all the pain that could have been avoided if they had? Imagine how much better off we’d be if all of us would ask ourselves that question during our daily work: “Okay, this single mother of two has cancer, but the treatment will be expensive—and technically I can deny the claim because her employers failed to file their 2005 SRD forms by the deadline. Hmmm… improve the corporate profits, or pay to treat her cancer? Gee, I wonder what Jesus would do?”
Of course, the amoral capitalist always has a comeback: “It’s business.” “Law of the Jungle.” “Kill or be killed.”
Please.
As if it takes a Colt .45 Peacemaker and a steely nerve to lie on a spreadsheet, or screw an unsuspecting person in a business deal.
Here’s a newsflash of the “Law of the Jungle” types—If you think you’re a real gunslingin’ businessman, go do business with some L.A. street gangs. Get them to commit to a deal, then short them on their percentage. They’ll be real impressed when tell them who your law firm is.
It has been said that democracy can never survive as a permanent form of government, as eventually the people will come to understand that they can vote themselves benefits out of the public coffers. I’m beginning to think unregulated capitalism cannot survive as a permanent economic engine, as those without morals will eventually realize that those “bound” by morals are unprepared to deal with well-planned, methodical treachery.
What’s the alternative? I don’t have one.
Maybe Jesus does. What would Jesus do in this situation?
Ah, yes! He’d probably invite us all to one of His weekly business seminars— He holds them every week at His house.
Is Christianity a Crutch for Weak People?
Christianity, some say, is “a crutch for weak people.”
The mainstream media, of course, loves to perpetuate this idea, and does so by showing Christians in the “weakest” possible light. You know the drill: There’s some divisive social issue in the news, and tens of millions of Christians around the nation are praying for an outcome they believe Christ would condone. The media responds by rushing to the “ground zero” of the issue, and zeroing their cameras on the proverbial “protester couple” who just drove in from Kansas; he’s ranting hellfire and damnation, and she’s got the tears flowing down her face, and that, of course, is the 6:00 News look at Christianity. Cut to the story about the latest lawsuit to get God out of the public schools.
In contrast, agnostics and atheists tend to have much better spokesmen, all of whom are treated as enlightened royalty by the mainstream media. You don’t have to look far to find a Captain of Industry willing to call Christianity a crutch for the weak: Bill Gates has stated for the record that he thinks “religion is a waste of time.”
And we should listen to him, right? After all, he achieved his accomplishments with great intellect and daring, no? He didn’t ask God for help—he just seized his day!
We’ve also got plenty of those pillars of morality in Hollywood willing to scoff at Christianity and the values it espouses: They don’t need God… they are gods! They are worshipped and adored, and God didn’t help them— they got there via a level of talent so vast that there was just no keeping them down, right? And how can we criticize them? Sometimes they give up entire hours to lend their assistance to a worthy cause.
When I hear these usual suspects say Christianity is a crutch for weak people, I can’t help but wonder if they’d be willing to say it to John McCain, Jim Stockdale, and Jerry Denton, all of whom survived Viet Nam’s Hanoi Hilton and all of whom profess Christianity. Would they be willing to make that comment to the Founding Fathers of our nation? Would they be willing to say it to the men on the frontline of combat that pray Christian prayers for safety and deliverance?
The idea of Christian “weakness” was, perhaps, initiated by the gentle, loving, and perfect life Jesus Christ led. Even when He was being arrested and led to crucifixion, Christ insisted on peace between his disciples and the mob. Was this weakness? No, it was wisdom. He said essentially, “You live by the sword, you die by the sword.”
How did He know? Because He was God in human flesh, and He’d been watching the results of violence since the beginning of time. Yes, as we all know, violence can enable one group to impose its will on another group, but I believe God thinks on bigger scale than that. He wants us to love and respect each other, not kill each other, and that’s got to start somewhere, right? The example set by Jesus said let it start with me.
I must admit that, as a former Marine, the allegation that Christianity is for weak people is particularly bothersome. As a result, I’ve really given the issue a great deal of thought, and I think I’ve found a common link between these high-profile critics of Christianity: In short, they are all in the business of serving themselves. All their true energies and motives are inwardly focused, and center on their career, their money, their power, or their image.
This doesn’t mean they are bad people. Remember, Bill Gates has given away billions of dollars. No, what it means is that when you’ve got only your needs to focus on, the need for divine grace and assistance isn’t very acute. Focusing entirely on your own needs and desires puts you in a category with, well, a two year-old, as that’s exactly what two year-olds do all day. Getting through life just isn’t as hard when you don’t concern yourself with how your actions impact the lives of others.
In my opinion, Christians are not called upon to be pure pacifists. There are cases when action (and even war) are just. (What sane person could say fighting the Nazis was unjust?) Consider Jesus himself: During His human life He took on the entire power structure of the Jewish world, and He cleared the temple of its money-changers, vendors and animals—all with an Indiana Jones-esque flair.
Still, He was a man of peace and love 99.9% of the time, and that’s hard for many of us to take. I for one can say there were several times in Jesus’ life when I wished He’d done the water-into-wine thing by turning His walking stick into an AK-47. He was kind and loving towards those who wanted to harm Him, and I wanted Him to get some Holy Rambo going. I wanted Him to show His (fire) power!
Then, a book I was reading pointed out the obvious: The first time we saw Jesus, He was born of a woman, and grew up among us as a human to become the perfect Sacrificial Lamb. In fact, He is referred to time and again as the Lamb of God… and the imagery of a Lamb doesn’t inspire much awe among a pack of wolves, if you get my drift. The role of Sacrificial Lamb was His to carry, and He was fulfilling a temporary position that had been waiting for Him since before time began. And He was able to fulfill this impossible role because He was God.
But, this book reminded me, the next time we see Him, well, that will set the record straight. There will be no human birth, and He will most assuredly not be a lamb— He will be the Lion of Judah, and He will bring with Him a level of “shock and awe” that will make the wars of the past 200 years look like a church picnic.
His presence will make our definition of “masculinity” laughable, and the toughest men on the planet will weep with terror at the mere sight of Him. It will be Judgment Day, and I don’t recall ever reading “the tough, the strong, and the independent” shall inherit the earth.”
Who will? The Bible says “the meek.” Does this mean folks who are tough, strong, and independent can’t make the cut? In my opinion, no— they have the same chance as everyone else. But, they need to be humble about their successes, and understand their God-given talents were given to them by, well, God. They need to admit that they, like everyone else, fall short of the “glory of God” and the perfect example set by Jesus. They need to admit their need for a rescuer, and—here’s a biggie—specifically ask Jesus to be that rescuer.
Is Christianity a crutch for weak people? Personally, I don’t think so, but, hey-- Jesse “The Body” Ventura says it is. Who am I to argue with him? He’s rich, famous, buffed, bald, and bad. I’m nobody.
For his own sake, however, he better hope he’s right. I, for one, wouldn’t want that sound bite on my philosophical record when I’m standing face to face with the Lion of Judah, and He’s deciding my fate.
The mainstream media, of course, loves to perpetuate this idea, and does so by showing Christians in the “weakest” possible light. You know the drill: There’s some divisive social issue in the news, and tens of millions of Christians around the nation are praying for an outcome they believe Christ would condone. The media responds by rushing to the “ground zero” of the issue, and zeroing their cameras on the proverbial “protester couple” who just drove in from Kansas; he’s ranting hellfire and damnation, and she’s got the tears flowing down her face, and that, of course, is the 6:00 News look at Christianity. Cut to the story about the latest lawsuit to get God out of the public schools.
In contrast, agnostics and atheists tend to have much better spokesmen, all of whom are treated as enlightened royalty by the mainstream media. You don’t have to look far to find a Captain of Industry willing to call Christianity a crutch for the weak: Bill Gates has stated for the record that he thinks “religion is a waste of time.”
And we should listen to him, right? After all, he achieved his accomplishments with great intellect and daring, no? He didn’t ask God for help—he just seized his day!
We’ve also got plenty of those pillars of morality in Hollywood willing to scoff at Christianity and the values it espouses: They don’t need God… they are gods! They are worshipped and adored, and God didn’t help them— they got there via a level of talent so vast that there was just no keeping them down, right? And how can we criticize them? Sometimes they give up entire hours to lend their assistance to a worthy cause.
When I hear these usual suspects say Christianity is a crutch for weak people, I can’t help but wonder if they’d be willing to say it to John McCain, Jim Stockdale, and Jerry Denton, all of whom survived Viet Nam’s Hanoi Hilton and all of whom profess Christianity. Would they be willing to make that comment to the Founding Fathers of our nation? Would they be willing to say it to the men on the frontline of combat that pray Christian prayers for safety and deliverance?
The idea of Christian “weakness” was, perhaps, initiated by the gentle, loving, and perfect life Jesus Christ led. Even when He was being arrested and led to crucifixion, Christ insisted on peace between his disciples and the mob. Was this weakness? No, it was wisdom. He said essentially, “You live by the sword, you die by the sword.”
How did He know? Because He was God in human flesh, and He’d been watching the results of violence since the beginning of time. Yes, as we all know, violence can enable one group to impose its will on another group, but I believe God thinks on bigger scale than that. He wants us to love and respect each other, not kill each other, and that’s got to start somewhere, right? The example set by Jesus said let it start with me.
I must admit that, as a former Marine, the allegation that Christianity is for weak people is particularly bothersome. As a result, I’ve really given the issue a great deal of thought, and I think I’ve found a common link between these high-profile critics of Christianity: In short, they are all in the business of serving themselves. All their true energies and motives are inwardly focused, and center on their career, their money, their power, or their image.
This doesn’t mean they are bad people. Remember, Bill Gates has given away billions of dollars. No, what it means is that when you’ve got only your needs to focus on, the need for divine grace and assistance isn’t very acute. Focusing entirely on your own needs and desires puts you in a category with, well, a two year-old, as that’s exactly what two year-olds do all day. Getting through life just isn’t as hard when you don’t concern yourself with how your actions impact the lives of others.
In my opinion, Christians are not called upon to be pure pacifists. There are cases when action (and even war) are just. (What sane person could say fighting the Nazis was unjust?) Consider Jesus himself: During His human life He took on the entire power structure of the Jewish world, and He cleared the temple of its money-changers, vendors and animals—all with an Indiana Jones-esque flair.
Still, He was a man of peace and love 99.9% of the time, and that’s hard for many of us to take. I for one can say there were several times in Jesus’ life when I wished He’d done the water-into-wine thing by turning His walking stick into an AK-47. He was kind and loving towards those who wanted to harm Him, and I wanted Him to get some Holy Rambo going. I wanted Him to show His (fire) power!
Then, a book I was reading pointed out the obvious: The first time we saw Jesus, He was born of a woman, and grew up among us as a human to become the perfect Sacrificial Lamb. In fact, He is referred to time and again as the Lamb of God… and the imagery of a Lamb doesn’t inspire much awe among a pack of wolves, if you get my drift. The role of Sacrificial Lamb was His to carry, and He was fulfilling a temporary position that had been waiting for Him since before time began. And He was able to fulfill this impossible role because He was God.
But, this book reminded me, the next time we see Him, well, that will set the record straight. There will be no human birth, and He will most assuredly not be a lamb— He will be the Lion of Judah, and He will bring with Him a level of “shock and awe” that will make the wars of the past 200 years look like a church picnic.
His presence will make our definition of “masculinity” laughable, and the toughest men on the planet will weep with terror at the mere sight of Him. It will be Judgment Day, and I don’t recall ever reading “the tough, the strong, and the independent” shall inherit the earth.”
Who will? The Bible says “the meek.” Does this mean folks who are tough, strong, and independent can’t make the cut? In my opinion, no— they have the same chance as everyone else. But, they need to be humble about their successes, and understand their God-given talents were given to them by, well, God. They need to admit that they, like everyone else, fall short of the “glory of God” and the perfect example set by Jesus. They need to admit their need for a rescuer, and—here’s a biggie—specifically ask Jesus to be that rescuer.
Is Christianity a crutch for weak people? Personally, I don’t think so, but, hey-- Jesse “The Body” Ventura says it is. Who am I to argue with him? He’s rich, famous, buffed, bald, and bad. I’m nobody.
For his own sake, however, he better hope he’s right. I, for one, wouldn’t want that sound bite on my philosophical record when I’m standing face to face with the Lion of Judah, and He’s deciding my fate.
Is "The Devil" Real?
If you’re a resident of earth, there is an important concept I want you to consider, because it helps explain a lot about the struggles we go through. It is simply this: Satan is real. No, he doesn’t make appearances dressed in red and carrying a pitchfork, but he’s as real as you and me.
I understand, of course, that even bringing up the topic of Satan conjures up the issue of “Why is there evil in the world?” This is an extremely difficult issue for many people, because of the “Big Three” common beliefs that most people share: 1) God is Perfect Goodness 2) God is All-powerful 3) Evil exists
This is a real mind-warper for the human brain, because our logic tells us that “for evil to exist, God must either not be all-powerful, or He must not be perfectly good.” Human logic tells us two of these truths can co-exist, but not all three.
I asked my buddy Rev. Trip Cormeny about this, and he explained that for Christians the answer comes from the Bible, which tells us, “God has a morally sufficient reason for allowing the existence of evil.”
Unfortunately, the Bible doesn’t explain the details. It just states the fact. And it appears to come down to this: God operates on an entirely different plain than us. He’s not just a really, really, really smart/wise/moral MegaHuman, but instead a God who operates within a set of perfectly just rules we cannot fathom.
His decisions and actions are unfettered by our understanding of time, space, logic, or human morality. In short, he gets the Big Picture, and we do not. Because of this, God does allow evil in the universe He created, and the Christian Bible explains that the primary source of evil is Satan.
As the source of evil in the world, Satan wants us to ignore God. He wants everyone to choose his way to happiness, and he knows our appetites very well: Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust. These are the things that feel good to our human bodies and brains, and they are where we drift if our spiritual side is not actively working against them. I don’t know about you, but I can experience all seven of the deadly sins just sitting on the couch with a beer and some Doritos watching Bay Watch re-runs.
Anyway, the Devil is one smart cookie. It’s been said that Satan’s greatest trick was convincing the world he doesn’t exist, and I believe that’s true. If you give no thought to him, then his job is that much easier.
The Devil is also very efficient: He doesn’t spend a lot of effort working on those he already owns. (If you think about it, you’ll probably agree Satan doesn’t have to do much work within the Mafia). He works hardest on those he is in the process of losing, and those who have committed themselves to following Christ. If you are a non-believer, and something inspires you to look further into Christianity, you will find yourself on the frontline of the battle between God and Satan. Satan will work his fanny off trying to get you to give up on the process, and get you thinking, “This isn’t worth the effort.”
Everyone knows the old cliché, “The Devil made me do it.” The truth is, however, that short of demonic possession, the Devil can’t make you do anything. Satan is like is a really cool friend from the wrong side of the tracks, who encourages you to think only about yourself, and tells you that what you do, think, and say is your business and no one else’s.
Most people know beforehand when they are going to do something wrong, and they know the thing is wrong because all humans are hard-wired with a moral compass that instinctively differentiates between right and wrong. But we do these things anyway. Why? They are fun, or feel good, or feel rewarding. And they are easier to do (then forget about) because Satan is there with us beforehand rubbing our shoulders and saying, “Go get ‘em, Champ,” and afterward to say, “That wasn’t wrong; you were just doing what you wanted to do.”
Now, let’s say you think the idea of Satan “being real” and playing “an active role in your life” is a bit much. You prefer to think of evil as simply a choice men make. Then how do you account for the hard-core evil in the world? Men who rape their own children? Serial killers who roam the country? Men who kidnap and torture their victims?
Yes, some hard-core evil is catalyzed by insanity, but not all. Often times these people have a fully-operational moral compass, and they know right from wrong, but they choose to do evil. I think this kind of hard-core evil is the best proof that Satan exists. These people know that what they are doing is the darkest kind of evil, but Satan convinces them that their needs are above those of the rest of the world.
With the rest of us, Satan never much raises his voice above a whisper. He whispers that life isn’t fair, so we’ve got to get what we can. It’s funny how this works, because according to C.S. Lewis a sane person always knows right from wrong through their moral compass, and while it’s possible to “do good for the sake of good, no one does bad for the sake of bad.”
This is easier to understand with an analogy: You might very well share your lunch with someone who is hungry because it’s the right thing to do, but you’d never refuse to share your lunch because it’s the wrong thing to do. Yes, you might fail to share because you’re really hungry yourself, or you don’t like the hungry person, or you believe the person will use the energy the lunch provides to commit a crime, but these reasons for refusing to share all have a reason (and a reward) attached to them. No one, however, would refuse to share their lunch purely because it’s the wrong thing to do.
To that end, “doing the right thing” is a stronger drive than “doing the wrong thing,” and is thus the greater of the two human realities. Only through the work of Satan do we recognize wrong, acknowledge it’s wrong, and still do it.
If you’re interested in learning more about Satan, and how he works, I recommend you read, The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis. In this book, Mr. Lewis takes on the character of Uncle Screwtape, who is writing a series of letters to his nephew Wormwood about the proper techniques and tactics for capturing the human soul.
In fact, I should point out that C.S. Lewis is the author of a number of brilliant books on Christianity, most of which are written not to preach but to explain; if you want to read the ideas of a brilliant atheist-turned-Christian, you can’t go wrong with Mr. Lewis. (Interesting fact: C.S. Lewis was converted to Christianity through the efforts of his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, the Lord of the Rings guy, mostly through conversations they had in a bar).
For those of you interested in something a little quicker and easier, there is a brilliant a movie called, The Devil’s Advocate (Rated R) starring Al Pacino as Lucifer himself. I do not know who wrote the script, but the end result is genius.
Some Christians really struggle with the idea of a real, actual Satan. That’s cool. I didn’t always believe in a real, actual Satan myself. However, when you’re considering the topic, remember that Jesus asked God to “deliver us from the Evil One” when He said The Lord’s Prayer. And these days, I’ve got a pretty strong suspicion He wasn’t speaking about a non-existent entity.
I understand, of course, that even bringing up the topic of Satan conjures up the issue of “Why is there evil in the world?” This is an extremely difficult issue for many people, because of the “Big Three” common beliefs that most people share: 1) God is Perfect Goodness 2) God is All-powerful 3) Evil exists
This is a real mind-warper for the human brain, because our logic tells us that “for evil to exist, God must either not be all-powerful, or He must not be perfectly good.” Human logic tells us two of these truths can co-exist, but not all three.
I asked my buddy Rev. Trip Cormeny about this, and he explained that for Christians the answer comes from the Bible, which tells us, “God has a morally sufficient reason for allowing the existence of evil.”
Unfortunately, the Bible doesn’t explain the details. It just states the fact. And it appears to come down to this: God operates on an entirely different plain than us. He’s not just a really, really, really smart/wise/moral MegaHuman, but instead a God who operates within a set of perfectly just rules we cannot fathom.
His decisions and actions are unfettered by our understanding of time, space, logic, or human morality. In short, he gets the Big Picture, and we do not. Because of this, God does allow evil in the universe He created, and the Christian Bible explains that the primary source of evil is Satan.
As the source of evil in the world, Satan wants us to ignore God. He wants everyone to choose his way to happiness, and he knows our appetites very well: Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust. These are the things that feel good to our human bodies and brains, and they are where we drift if our spiritual side is not actively working against them. I don’t know about you, but I can experience all seven of the deadly sins just sitting on the couch with a beer and some Doritos watching Bay Watch re-runs.
Anyway, the Devil is one smart cookie. It’s been said that Satan’s greatest trick was convincing the world he doesn’t exist, and I believe that’s true. If you give no thought to him, then his job is that much easier.
The Devil is also very efficient: He doesn’t spend a lot of effort working on those he already owns. (If you think about it, you’ll probably agree Satan doesn’t have to do much work within the Mafia). He works hardest on those he is in the process of losing, and those who have committed themselves to following Christ. If you are a non-believer, and something inspires you to look further into Christianity, you will find yourself on the frontline of the battle between God and Satan. Satan will work his fanny off trying to get you to give up on the process, and get you thinking, “This isn’t worth the effort.”
Everyone knows the old cliché, “The Devil made me do it.” The truth is, however, that short of demonic possession, the Devil can’t make you do anything. Satan is like is a really cool friend from the wrong side of the tracks, who encourages you to think only about yourself, and tells you that what you do, think, and say is your business and no one else’s.
Most people know beforehand when they are going to do something wrong, and they know the thing is wrong because all humans are hard-wired with a moral compass that instinctively differentiates between right and wrong. But we do these things anyway. Why? They are fun, or feel good, or feel rewarding. And they are easier to do (then forget about) because Satan is there with us beforehand rubbing our shoulders and saying, “Go get ‘em, Champ,” and afterward to say, “That wasn’t wrong; you were just doing what you wanted to do.”
Now, let’s say you think the idea of Satan “being real” and playing “an active role in your life” is a bit much. You prefer to think of evil as simply a choice men make. Then how do you account for the hard-core evil in the world? Men who rape their own children? Serial killers who roam the country? Men who kidnap and torture their victims?
Yes, some hard-core evil is catalyzed by insanity, but not all. Often times these people have a fully-operational moral compass, and they know right from wrong, but they choose to do evil. I think this kind of hard-core evil is the best proof that Satan exists. These people know that what they are doing is the darkest kind of evil, but Satan convinces them that their needs are above those of the rest of the world.
With the rest of us, Satan never much raises his voice above a whisper. He whispers that life isn’t fair, so we’ve got to get what we can. It’s funny how this works, because according to C.S. Lewis a sane person always knows right from wrong through their moral compass, and while it’s possible to “do good for the sake of good, no one does bad for the sake of bad.”
This is easier to understand with an analogy: You might very well share your lunch with someone who is hungry because it’s the right thing to do, but you’d never refuse to share your lunch because it’s the wrong thing to do. Yes, you might fail to share because you’re really hungry yourself, or you don’t like the hungry person, or you believe the person will use the energy the lunch provides to commit a crime, but these reasons for refusing to share all have a reason (and a reward) attached to them. No one, however, would refuse to share their lunch purely because it’s the wrong thing to do.
To that end, “doing the right thing” is a stronger drive than “doing the wrong thing,” and is thus the greater of the two human realities. Only through the work of Satan do we recognize wrong, acknowledge it’s wrong, and still do it.
If you’re interested in learning more about Satan, and how he works, I recommend you read, The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis. In this book, Mr. Lewis takes on the character of Uncle Screwtape, who is writing a series of letters to his nephew Wormwood about the proper techniques and tactics for capturing the human soul.
In fact, I should point out that C.S. Lewis is the author of a number of brilliant books on Christianity, most of which are written not to preach but to explain; if you want to read the ideas of a brilliant atheist-turned-Christian, you can’t go wrong with Mr. Lewis. (Interesting fact: C.S. Lewis was converted to Christianity through the efforts of his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, the Lord of the Rings guy, mostly through conversations they had in a bar).
For those of you interested in something a little quicker and easier, there is a brilliant a movie called, The Devil’s Advocate (Rated R) starring Al Pacino as Lucifer himself. I do not know who wrote the script, but the end result is genius.
Some Christians really struggle with the idea of a real, actual Satan. That’s cool. I didn’t always believe in a real, actual Satan myself. However, when you’re considering the topic, remember that Jesus asked God to “deliver us from the Evil One” when He said The Lord’s Prayer. And these days, I’ve got a pretty strong suspicion He wasn’t speaking about a non-existent entity.
Why is Theology so Complex?
For many people who argue against Christianity, one of their Top Ten objections is usually the comment, “Christianity is too complex. A religion ordained by God would be pure, simple, and easy to understand.”
This is certainly a legitimate point and, on the surface, it could even be considered a good point. After all, you’ve got Roman Catholics, Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Baptists...the list goes on, and everyone thinks they are the ones who’ve got it right.
However, the argument falls apart when one considers it from other angles. Why? Because as C.S. Lewis argues so brilliantly in Mere Christianity, nothing is simple. Is physics? Is chemistry? Even a simple rock is extraordinarily complex, once you get past the fact it just looks like a rock, and you begin to consider it at the sub-molecular level.
I understand, however, that most people want the rules of religion to be simple. They want the Bible to be a brochure, with basic instructions about the minimum that must be done in order to please God. Me, too! I want an 8½x11 flyer that tells me that I need to do exactly “X” every day, and the reward is heaven. (Monday, March 29th. Pray 10 minutes, call your Mom, adopt a stray dog, and give a sandwich to a homeless person. Voila. God is happy with you).
But, I also want a flyer on how to communicate flawlessly with my wife. I want a flyer on how to get dictators to be nice to their people. I want a flyer on how to make people more generous and friendly.
Are you with me here? If simply understanding your spouse’s mind is a complex, then it stands to reason that understanding God’s mind should also be complex. After all, he’s God, not Forest Gump. In addition, we’ve got to remember that God didn’t make graduate-level calculus easy to understand, so why should theology be easy?
With calculus and physics, we can build a bridge. With theology, we attempt to understand the mind of the God who invented calculus and physics. (In his head.) (From scratch.) Now looking at it from that angle, which thing should be more complex?
So, who’s right? Who’s cracked the code, and offers the way to salvation?
Hard to say. But I do know that when God rolled out his second covenant with mankind, He issued only straight-forward directives: Admit you need a Savior, repent of your sins, accept my Son as your Lord and Savior, follow the teachings of Scripture, and tell other people the Good News that through Jesus you can get to Heaven.
Is that complex? Did He design church calendars, write services, dictate who could take communion, and declare who should stack the chairs after the Pot Luck Supper? No. The truth is that God didn’t invent our “modern denominations.” We did.
So, with all the denominations out there, and everyone claiming that their nuances are the most correct and holy, who do you trust? Who do you turn to for the answers? What church does God want you to go to in order to learn about His truth? Since this is my column, I’ll tell you what I think: He doesn’t care, as long as you choose a church that preaches and teaches His unchanging word.
What I mean by this is that some churches teach that God himself changes with the times, and if in 50 years polygamy is socially acceptable, it will be acceptable to God. I disagree. Some churches teach that God is relative, and that one Christian can believe in the Resurrection and another may not but somehow both are correct. I disagree. And some churches teach that there are many paths to God. I disagree, based on what the Bible tells me. However, other than avoiding churches that teach that God is “relative to your perspective,” I don’t think God cares which Christian denomination you choose to learn about him.
Why? Because the early church was just a bunch of folks getting together in a courtyard to learn about Jesus, and to say, “Thank you God for making me, this world, and all the fun stuff I get to do. Thanks also for making it possible for me to be forgiven even though I break your rules everyday.”
So if you feel more comfortable in a conservative, formal church, go there. If you prefer a modern, non-denominational church, go there.
If you want a fire and brimstone church that emphasizes strict rules, go there.
And if you’re just opening your mind to the thought of investigating Christianity, find a church that offers the Alpha course, and go there.
But don’t kid yourself about the importance of going to a church: You owe it to God to go because it’s your personal “thank you” to Him for all your good fortunes. After all, if you give someone a present, which do you appreciate more: A phone call thank you, a thank you note, or a personal visit where they take the time to drive to your house to say thanks? When it comes to emotions like love and gratitude, God does think like you and me, and your blowing off church is much like a friend blowing off your birthday party. Doesn’t that offend you? To think about a good friend deciding they’ve got something better to do than to come to a party in your honor? What will you say when you next see that friend face to face? What will God say to you when the two of you come face to face?
As you know if you’ve ever read this column, I blew off church for about 25 years, so I’ll have plenty of explaining to do when I kick the bucket. However, I believe I’ve got one thing going for me:
Despite the fact I’m an idiot, and despite the fact I completely turned my back on God for most of my life, I’ll have God’s Son standing beside me when I’m doing my explaining. And once I’m done with my lame “the dog ate my religion” excuses, Jesus will say, “Yes, he’s a knucklehead, but he’s with me.”
Now that’s not complex, is it?
This is certainly a legitimate point and, on the surface, it could even be considered a good point. After all, you’ve got Roman Catholics, Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Baptists...the list goes on, and everyone thinks they are the ones who’ve got it right.
However, the argument falls apart when one considers it from other angles. Why? Because as C.S. Lewis argues so brilliantly in Mere Christianity, nothing is simple. Is physics? Is chemistry? Even a simple rock is extraordinarily complex, once you get past the fact it just looks like a rock, and you begin to consider it at the sub-molecular level.
I understand, however, that most people want the rules of religion to be simple. They want the Bible to be a brochure, with basic instructions about the minimum that must be done in order to please God. Me, too! I want an 8½x11 flyer that tells me that I need to do exactly “X” every day, and the reward is heaven. (Monday, March 29th. Pray 10 minutes, call your Mom, adopt a stray dog, and give a sandwich to a homeless person. Voila. God is happy with you).
But, I also want a flyer on how to communicate flawlessly with my wife. I want a flyer on how to get dictators to be nice to their people. I want a flyer on how to make people more generous and friendly.
Are you with me here? If simply understanding your spouse’s mind is a complex, then it stands to reason that understanding God’s mind should also be complex. After all, he’s God, not Forest Gump. In addition, we’ve got to remember that God didn’t make graduate-level calculus easy to understand, so why should theology be easy?
With calculus and physics, we can build a bridge. With theology, we attempt to understand the mind of the God who invented calculus and physics. (In his head.) (From scratch.) Now looking at it from that angle, which thing should be more complex?
So, who’s right? Who’s cracked the code, and offers the way to salvation?
Hard to say. But I do know that when God rolled out his second covenant with mankind, He issued only straight-forward directives: Admit you need a Savior, repent of your sins, accept my Son as your Lord and Savior, follow the teachings of Scripture, and tell other people the Good News that through Jesus you can get to Heaven.
Is that complex? Did He design church calendars, write services, dictate who could take communion, and declare who should stack the chairs after the Pot Luck Supper? No. The truth is that God didn’t invent our “modern denominations.” We did.
So, with all the denominations out there, and everyone claiming that their nuances are the most correct and holy, who do you trust? Who do you turn to for the answers? What church does God want you to go to in order to learn about His truth? Since this is my column, I’ll tell you what I think: He doesn’t care, as long as you choose a church that preaches and teaches His unchanging word.
What I mean by this is that some churches teach that God himself changes with the times, and if in 50 years polygamy is socially acceptable, it will be acceptable to God. I disagree. Some churches teach that God is relative, and that one Christian can believe in the Resurrection and another may not but somehow both are correct. I disagree. And some churches teach that there are many paths to God. I disagree, based on what the Bible tells me. However, other than avoiding churches that teach that God is “relative to your perspective,” I don’t think God cares which Christian denomination you choose to learn about him.
Why? Because the early church was just a bunch of folks getting together in a courtyard to learn about Jesus, and to say, “Thank you God for making me, this world, and all the fun stuff I get to do. Thanks also for making it possible for me to be forgiven even though I break your rules everyday.”
So if you feel more comfortable in a conservative, formal church, go there. If you prefer a modern, non-denominational church, go there.
If you want a fire and brimstone church that emphasizes strict rules, go there.
And if you’re just opening your mind to the thought of investigating Christianity, find a church that offers the Alpha course, and go there.
But don’t kid yourself about the importance of going to a church: You owe it to God to go because it’s your personal “thank you” to Him for all your good fortunes. After all, if you give someone a present, which do you appreciate more: A phone call thank you, a thank you note, or a personal visit where they take the time to drive to your house to say thanks? When it comes to emotions like love and gratitude, God does think like you and me, and your blowing off church is much like a friend blowing off your birthday party. Doesn’t that offend you? To think about a good friend deciding they’ve got something better to do than to come to a party in your honor? What will you say when you next see that friend face to face? What will God say to you when the two of you come face to face?
As you know if you’ve ever read this column, I blew off church for about 25 years, so I’ll have plenty of explaining to do when I kick the bucket. However, I believe I’ve got one thing going for me:
Despite the fact I’m an idiot, and despite the fact I completely turned my back on God for most of my life, I’ll have God’s Son standing beside me when I’m doing my explaining. And once I’m done with my lame “the dog ate my religion” excuses, Jesus will say, “Yes, he’s a knucklehead, but he’s with me.”
Now that’s not complex, is it?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
About Moral Relativism
Dear Editor, I am 18 years old. Most of my professors at college say there is no such thing as good and evil in the world. My Father says: “If you see it in The Mercury, it’s so.” So please tell me the truth: Is there good and evil in the world, or is it all just shades of gray?” Virginia O’Hanlon, Dartmouth College
Dear Virginia,
Your professors are wrong.
They have been affected by a view that no longer sees the world around them, but instead resides in an Ivory Tower—a tower without windows, and walls lined with mirrors. It is a place of intense inward focus, where Narcissus himself would blush from the selfishness.
Your professors should be prayed for, not punished. Theirs is a worldview that has never seen the sun rise over marsh grass, or watched as it sets across the deserts of Utah. They’ve never seen a White Tail fawn grazing with its mother, or pulled on a Honeysuckle stem to touch their tongue to a single drop of heaven. They’ve never felt the presence of God during a baptism, or vicarious pride when hearing that a working and single mother earns her degree as an adult. They have never seen pure good, so they cannot see evil… anymore than a man blind from birth can tell you the colors that move in front of his unseeing eyes.
Yes, Virginia, the world is very much a place of good and evil, sometimes known as black and white. The problem some of your professors have is that they prefer the shades of gray that muddle the space between black and white. You see, adults must face complex issues on which they must take a stance. No, not a religious stance, but a spiritual stance—a stance where they say, “This issue is complex, but it has a right and a wrong. I choose to stand for what’s right.” It may sound easy, but in reality it’s not.
What’s easy to say is, “This issue is too complex to have a true right and a wrong—It’s all shades of gray.” The reason your professors so love this stance is that it enables them to place all of their opinions and all of their actions in an undefined area of gray, and then claim that their shade of gray is the righteous one. Do you see, Virginia? Without universal right and wrong, each person becomes perfectly right.
Perhaps, Virginia, the hardest part of admitting there is true good and evil in the world is the conversations it requires you have with the person you see in the mirror. Because once you establish that there are universal rights and wrongs, you must admit to yourself that you sometimes stand in the camp of wrongdoers. You see the good and the bad, yet sometimes you choose the bad. This approach means admitting you are wrong, or a sinner—and to your professors, this sort of attitude is heresy. At their alter of intellectualism, admitting they are wrong forsakes the thing they hold most precious: Themselves.
To wrap your arms fully around the concept of good and evil, one must admit a frightening thing: It’s not all about me. My comforts, and my desires, and my wants do not govern the world and its rights and wrongs… quite the opposite, in fact. The rights and wrongs of the world govern me.
This, Virginia, is where your professors step in, and lay claim to their shades of gray. From their Ivory Towers, they claim they agree with the above, but demand to know where I get my concepts of right and wrong. What is, after all, right and wrong? My answer is unsatisfying to their intellectual minds, as I admit I get my definitions of right and wrong from a book called The Bible—the New Testament of which is written about the life of a man named Jesus, who we Christians believe was and is the Son of God. To your professors, my belief in such a book eliminates the possibility of my being an intellectual peer.
But to your professors, I say, “Read the things Jesus said, and how He told us to behave. Don’t His words sound like the kind of words you’d expect God to say?” Jesus preached of love, honor, humility, hard work, sharing, self-control, and helping those less fortunate. Even if you don’t believe in Him as the Son of God, can you not accept His words as perfect advice?
No, Virginia, your professors cannot—and they are not the only ones. Sadly, much of the world today agrees with them, and many view Christians as the enemy. Christianity, and the belief that all men and women are created equal, and endowed with inalienable rights by their Creator, is now outside the global norm. People who believe as I do have been cast as bullies and warmongers, and the world no longer offers us a seat at the table of intellectual discussions.
I have chosen to answer your letter at this place and time, Virginia, because the world is at a crossroads of good and evil. In recent years, the world has been aflame with the hatred and violence of Muslim extremists, followers of the religion Islam. This group’s most recent cry for mayhem comes on the heels of a Danish newspaper publishing cartoons of their prophet Mohammad in an unflattering way, and their reaction has included riots, arson, and governmentally-sanctioned calls for murder.
You might, perhaps, contrast this to a Christian experience several years ago, when an “artist” produced a piece displayed in New York entitled “Piss Christ,” which displayed Jesus Christ on the Cross immersed in urine. Christian reaction was one of verbal denouncement and prayer, a reaction that inspired more ridicule by professors and intellectuals than the Muslims’ recent riots.
Your professors, Virginia, will tell you these Muslim extremists are not wrong—They believe if anyone is wrong, it is the leaders of the West, who have failed to understand the importance of grays, and have thus tried to force our views of black and white on a culture that has different beliefs. But the reality is that the violent oppression of women is always wrong. The violent oppression of free speech is always wrong. The deliberate murder of civilians who disagree with you is always wrong. Anti-Semitism is always wrong. Terrorism is always wrong. Suicide bombing is always wrong. And the rule of a nation by acts of murder, rape, and torture is always wrong.
No such thing as good and evil? Ridiculous.
As Americans, you and I enjoy daily our God-given rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We have lived as a nation for over 225 years in a fortress of freedom, protected by the sacrifices of men and women willing to die to protect those rights. Today, times have changed, and the wolf is finally at our door. He and his fellow wolves are slaughtering innocent bystanders around the globe, and they are circling our camp, waiting for an opening to come in. He is here to do evil, because evil is what he is.
Will we step outside our fortress to fight him? Will we help those he is currently oppressing? It is a question for each person to decide. But for my money, Virginia, we must step out to confront him, and the evil he brings.
To do less would be more than bad… it would be evil itself.
Dear Virginia,
Your professors are wrong.
They have been affected by a view that no longer sees the world around them, but instead resides in an Ivory Tower—a tower without windows, and walls lined with mirrors. It is a place of intense inward focus, where Narcissus himself would blush from the selfishness.
Your professors should be prayed for, not punished. Theirs is a worldview that has never seen the sun rise over marsh grass, or watched as it sets across the deserts of Utah. They’ve never seen a White Tail fawn grazing with its mother, or pulled on a Honeysuckle stem to touch their tongue to a single drop of heaven. They’ve never felt the presence of God during a baptism, or vicarious pride when hearing that a working and single mother earns her degree as an adult. They have never seen pure good, so they cannot see evil… anymore than a man blind from birth can tell you the colors that move in front of his unseeing eyes.
Yes, Virginia, the world is very much a place of good and evil, sometimes known as black and white. The problem some of your professors have is that they prefer the shades of gray that muddle the space between black and white. You see, adults must face complex issues on which they must take a stance. No, not a religious stance, but a spiritual stance—a stance where they say, “This issue is complex, but it has a right and a wrong. I choose to stand for what’s right.” It may sound easy, but in reality it’s not.
What’s easy to say is, “This issue is too complex to have a true right and a wrong—It’s all shades of gray.” The reason your professors so love this stance is that it enables them to place all of their opinions and all of their actions in an undefined area of gray, and then claim that their shade of gray is the righteous one. Do you see, Virginia? Without universal right and wrong, each person becomes perfectly right.
Perhaps, Virginia, the hardest part of admitting there is true good and evil in the world is the conversations it requires you have with the person you see in the mirror. Because once you establish that there are universal rights and wrongs, you must admit to yourself that you sometimes stand in the camp of wrongdoers. You see the good and the bad, yet sometimes you choose the bad. This approach means admitting you are wrong, or a sinner—and to your professors, this sort of attitude is heresy. At their alter of intellectualism, admitting they are wrong forsakes the thing they hold most precious: Themselves.
To wrap your arms fully around the concept of good and evil, one must admit a frightening thing: It’s not all about me. My comforts, and my desires, and my wants do not govern the world and its rights and wrongs… quite the opposite, in fact. The rights and wrongs of the world govern me.
This, Virginia, is where your professors step in, and lay claim to their shades of gray. From their Ivory Towers, they claim they agree with the above, but demand to know where I get my concepts of right and wrong. What is, after all, right and wrong? My answer is unsatisfying to their intellectual minds, as I admit I get my definitions of right and wrong from a book called The Bible—the New Testament of which is written about the life of a man named Jesus, who we Christians believe was and is the Son of God. To your professors, my belief in such a book eliminates the possibility of my being an intellectual peer.
But to your professors, I say, “Read the things Jesus said, and how He told us to behave. Don’t His words sound like the kind of words you’d expect God to say?” Jesus preached of love, honor, humility, hard work, sharing, self-control, and helping those less fortunate. Even if you don’t believe in Him as the Son of God, can you not accept His words as perfect advice?
No, Virginia, your professors cannot—and they are not the only ones. Sadly, much of the world today agrees with them, and many view Christians as the enemy. Christianity, and the belief that all men and women are created equal, and endowed with inalienable rights by their Creator, is now outside the global norm. People who believe as I do have been cast as bullies and warmongers, and the world no longer offers us a seat at the table of intellectual discussions.
I have chosen to answer your letter at this place and time, Virginia, because the world is at a crossroads of good and evil. In recent years, the world has been aflame with the hatred and violence of Muslim extremists, followers of the religion Islam. This group’s most recent cry for mayhem comes on the heels of a Danish newspaper publishing cartoons of their prophet Mohammad in an unflattering way, and their reaction has included riots, arson, and governmentally-sanctioned calls for murder.
You might, perhaps, contrast this to a Christian experience several years ago, when an “artist” produced a piece displayed in New York entitled “Piss Christ,” which displayed Jesus Christ on the Cross immersed in urine. Christian reaction was one of verbal denouncement and prayer, a reaction that inspired more ridicule by professors and intellectuals than the Muslims’ recent riots.
Your professors, Virginia, will tell you these Muslim extremists are not wrong—They believe if anyone is wrong, it is the leaders of the West, who have failed to understand the importance of grays, and have thus tried to force our views of black and white on a culture that has different beliefs. But the reality is that the violent oppression of women is always wrong. The violent oppression of free speech is always wrong. The deliberate murder of civilians who disagree with you is always wrong. Anti-Semitism is always wrong. Terrorism is always wrong. Suicide bombing is always wrong. And the rule of a nation by acts of murder, rape, and torture is always wrong.
No such thing as good and evil? Ridiculous.
As Americans, you and I enjoy daily our God-given rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We have lived as a nation for over 225 years in a fortress of freedom, protected by the sacrifices of men and women willing to die to protect those rights. Today, times have changed, and the wolf is finally at our door. He and his fellow wolves are slaughtering innocent bystanders around the globe, and they are circling our camp, waiting for an opening to come in. He is here to do evil, because evil is what he is.
Will we step outside our fortress to fight him? Will we help those he is currently oppressing? It is a question for each person to decide. But for my money, Virginia, we must step out to confront him, and the evil he brings.
To do less would be more than bad… it would be evil itself.
Is every event part of God's Plan?
Sometimes, for the sake of keeping life in perspective, I like to think about God’s plans for me: Which plans I’ve knowingly accomplished, which ones I’ve done without even realizing it, and which ones I’ve blown off because I’m lazy and corrupt.
Since it’s time for a New Year to begin, this topic seems especially timely— after all, this is the season when we all fool ourselves with resolutions concerning washboard abs and learning to play an instrument and productive plans for the year, so why not consider God’s plans for us?
The very issue of “God’s plans for us” is difficult to fathom. This is because His plans for each of us falls somewhere between “complete free will” and “complete pre-destination.” Understanding the nuances of this incredibly complex theological issue is, fortunately, not a “salvation issue.”
How you stand on the Free-Will vs. Pre-Destination is not something Christians believe you will be asked at the Pearly Gates, anymore than you will be asked your favorite color or the average wing-speed velocity of a swallow. As a result, it’s something we discuss and argue, without the discussion ending with the proclamation that the other person is a “heretic!!!”
I have a theory on how God’s plans work, which I’ll share right now. I’ve bounced it off a couple Priests, and they were okay with it. Yes, they probably thought it was sophomoric, but they were too kind to say… they simply told me they enjoyed reading it, and that it steered clear of heresy. So, here goes:
As way of an analogy, consider the game of chess. It is said that a good, college-club chess player can think several moves ahead. Bobby Fischer, on the other hand, could think more than a dozen moves ahead. Armed with this amazing skill, Bobby Fischer could beat an excellent college-club player 1,000 out of 1,000 times. No matter what strategy the college player adopted, Bobby Fischer would know “what his opponent was thinking before his opponent thought it.” No matter how often they played, an opponent would be simply be overwhelmed by Bobby Fischer’s superior intellect and will. And if Bobby Fischer wanted the game to end with you still in possession of your King, a Knight, and three Pawns, that’s how the game would end.
Now, imagine God playing chess. Not only can He analyze your strategy, he can read your mind as you’re thinking it through. Suffice it to say, you’re a little outmatched when you sit down at the Chessboard with the Great I Am. And I think that’s how God runs the Universe:
He allows us to make selfish choices, but He imposes His will by knowing what all the options are, and shaping events the same way Bobby Fischer did on the Chessboard. When you have that level of understanding, you don’t need to rely on pre-destination to impose your will… the future unfolds in real time in accordance with what you want to happen.
But, let’s complicate matters—suppose you sit down at the Chessboard with Bobby Fischer, and make a few moves, then decide on a whim to eat a Rook, light yourself on fire, and jump out the 20th story window. Not much ol’ Bobby can do about that, because you quit playing the game he knows.
Now, let’s take the Rook-eater, and put him down at the Chessboard with God. God would know, as soon as the opposing player decided to eat the Rook, that things were spiraling out of control. And He could stop it. But He also sees in that instant the thousands of potential results from the upcoming Rook-eating, fire-lighting, gravity-ignoring decision. He sees the good, the bad, and the ugly that could come from the impending tragedy. Perhaps the crazy move will result in many of the jumper’s friends turning to God for answers. Perhaps the jumper will land on a serial pedophile. Perhaps the jumper will call attention to the fact that falling 20 stories hurts, and thus prevent other people from repeating the move.
In an instant, God connects all these brand-new dots, and if the jumper jumping helps God’s ultimate will be done, it’s “lookout below!” If the jumper’s act of jumping hinders God’s ultimate will, he ain’t getting out the window no matter what.
Do you and I wish God would stop every tragedy? Sure, but that’s because we can neither connect all the dots, nor can we understand the perfect morality under which God operates. Intellectually and morally, you and I are just a couple of six-year olds who want a life-long diet of cotton candy and funnel cakes. We want to live in heaven, not on earth…which isn’t an option right now.
In terms of God’s plans, very few of us get to do something dramatic for God. In fact, it’s very possible that God leads us into a task for the express purpose of impacting one specific person, who will in turn impact another specific person, who will then influence the life of someone else… and all this has to happen, because God has a very important mission for that person sometime in the future.
I’m not sure what God has in store for me in the year ahead. I’m pretty sure Heidi and I will be here in Charleston, but there’s that old saying that goes, “If you want to hear God laugh out loud, tell him your plans.” So, we’re up for anything. We’ll keep our ears open, and stay flexible, and see what God’s plans entail.
Heidi is hoping God has washboard abs on the list for me.
Since it’s time for a New Year to begin, this topic seems especially timely— after all, this is the season when we all fool ourselves with resolutions concerning washboard abs and learning to play an instrument and productive plans for the year, so why not consider God’s plans for us?
The very issue of “God’s plans for us” is difficult to fathom. This is because His plans for each of us falls somewhere between “complete free will” and “complete pre-destination.” Understanding the nuances of this incredibly complex theological issue is, fortunately, not a “salvation issue.”
How you stand on the Free-Will vs. Pre-Destination is not something Christians believe you will be asked at the Pearly Gates, anymore than you will be asked your favorite color or the average wing-speed velocity of a swallow. As a result, it’s something we discuss and argue, without the discussion ending with the proclamation that the other person is a “heretic!!!”
I have a theory on how God’s plans work, which I’ll share right now. I’ve bounced it off a couple Priests, and they were okay with it. Yes, they probably thought it was sophomoric, but they were too kind to say… they simply told me they enjoyed reading it, and that it steered clear of heresy. So, here goes:
As way of an analogy, consider the game of chess. It is said that a good, college-club chess player can think several moves ahead. Bobby Fischer, on the other hand, could think more than a dozen moves ahead. Armed with this amazing skill, Bobby Fischer could beat an excellent college-club player 1,000 out of 1,000 times. No matter what strategy the college player adopted, Bobby Fischer would know “what his opponent was thinking before his opponent thought it.” No matter how often they played, an opponent would be simply be overwhelmed by Bobby Fischer’s superior intellect and will. And if Bobby Fischer wanted the game to end with you still in possession of your King, a Knight, and three Pawns, that’s how the game would end.
Now, imagine God playing chess. Not only can He analyze your strategy, he can read your mind as you’re thinking it through. Suffice it to say, you’re a little outmatched when you sit down at the Chessboard with the Great I Am. And I think that’s how God runs the Universe:
He allows us to make selfish choices, but He imposes His will by knowing what all the options are, and shaping events the same way Bobby Fischer did on the Chessboard. When you have that level of understanding, you don’t need to rely on pre-destination to impose your will… the future unfolds in real time in accordance with what you want to happen.
But, let’s complicate matters—suppose you sit down at the Chessboard with Bobby Fischer, and make a few moves, then decide on a whim to eat a Rook, light yourself on fire, and jump out the 20th story window. Not much ol’ Bobby can do about that, because you quit playing the game he knows.
Now, let’s take the Rook-eater, and put him down at the Chessboard with God. God would know, as soon as the opposing player decided to eat the Rook, that things were spiraling out of control. And He could stop it. But He also sees in that instant the thousands of potential results from the upcoming Rook-eating, fire-lighting, gravity-ignoring decision. He sees the good, the bad, and the ugly that could come from the impending tragedy. Perhaps the crazy move will result in many of the jumper’s friends turning to God for answers. Perhaps the jumper will land on a serial pedophile. Perhaps the jumper will call attention to the fact that falling 20 stories hurts, and thus prevent other people from repeating the move.
In an instant, God connects all these brand-new dots, and if the jumper jumping helps God’s ultimate will be done, it’s “lookout below!” If the jumper’s act of jumping hinders God’s ultimate will, he ain’t getting out the window no matter what.
Do you and I wish God would stop every tragedy? Sure, but that’s because we can neither connect all the dots, nor can we understand the perfect morality under which God operates. Intellectually and morally, you and I are just a couple of six-year olds who want a life-long diet of cotton candy and funnel cakes. We want to live in heaven, not on earth…which isn’t an option right now.
In terms of God’s plans, very few of us get to do something dramatic for God. In fact, it’s very possible that God leads us into a task for the express purpose of impacting one specific person, who will in turn impact another specific person, who will then influence the life of someone else… and all this has to happen, because God has a very important mission for that person sometime in the future.
I’m not sure what God has in store for me in the year ahead. I’m pretty sure Heidi and I will be here in Charleston, but there’s that old saying that goes, “If you want to hear God laugh out loud, tell him your plans.” So, we’re up for anything. We’ll keep our ears open, and stay flexible, and see what God’s plans entail.
Heidi is hoping God has washboard abs on the list for me.
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