Remember the days when people were sane?
Customs were kept and English was plain?
Polite conversation focused on rain,
and couples held hands along Lovers Lane.
Rock was a boulder or seaside sweet,
men opened doors and gave up their seat,
the trains and the buses arrived when they should,
kids were young goats and faggots meant wood.
Couples were wed, then babies were born,
grass was thin green stuff, en mass called a lawn,
Big Mac was a raincoat, too large to fit tight,
old ladies felt safe in the street late at night.
Joy-riding was something you did on a sledge,
pot was a vessel for boiling the veg.,
joint was the meat, the great Sunday roast,
junk went in bins not sent in the post.
Gay people were happy, bad didn't mean good,
wellies weren't wanged but worn in the mud,
wicked meant evil and cool meant cold,
balls were round objects cricketers bowled.
Songs had a melody, books had a plot,
a man in a skirt was always a Scot,
a tart and a crumpet were things that you ate,
and coke was a substance burnt in the grate.
Remember the days when people were sane?
Customs were kept and English was plain?
- Nikki Barker
Monday, September 24, 2007
Friday, September 7, 2007
I like this.
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love—a scholar's parrot may talk Greek—
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.
-C.S. Lewis
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love—a scholar's parrot may talk Greek—
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.
-C.S. Lewis
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Depth Perception
My depth perception must be wrong
Cause you’re all around me when I’ve gone so far
My peripheral vision must be off
Cause you still surround me when I’ve run so far
If my senses aren’t impaired
Why can I taste your goodness still?
When I was once blinded by a world
I’ve been reblinded by Truth
My mouth seems to have stopped working
Because all my words are worthless
My eyes must be deceiving still
For I look ahead, and there you are
And I look back, you fill the path
My hands must be feeling something different
Cause you still hold it when I told you to stay away
You continue to point the way
Protecting, watching, waiting from above
Now I know why they call it amazing love
Cause you’re all around me when I’ve gone so far
My peripheral vision must be off
Cause you still surround me when I’ve run so far
If my senses aren’t impaired
Why can I taste your goodness still?
When I was once blinded by a world
I’ve been reblinded by Truth
My mouth seems to have stopped working
Because all my words are worthless
My eyes must be deceiving still
For I look ahead, and there you are
And I look back, you fill the path
My hands must be feeling something different
Cause you still hold it when I told you to stay away
You continue to point the way
Protecting, watching, waiting from above
Now I know why they call it amazing love
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Learning Jesus through Osmosis
In gaining access to this splendidly composed piece of literature, you have made a meritorious and commendable move. You see, you will not comprehend every word published on this page, but assimilating the information will prove quite facile, thanks to that invaluable assistant called context.
You will understand much of the obscure language of this post without any difficulty not because you tediously excogitated how to expand your already vast repertoire of words; it’s simply because you are already adept in the English language.
Our brains are wonderfully diligent things that analyze and compile colossal amounts of information in relatively nugatory amounts of time, and ever since we were puerile moppets listening to the babblings of senior orators, our brains have been amassing hoards of words with which we are now proficient.
Now, before my jejune and vapid locution causes you to absquatulate away from this piece, let me just point out a few key benefits of this brain that assiduously apprises you of what in the world I’m talking about. The context in which you abide has taught you the meaning of “common words”. You understand what “understand” is, and you have total comprehension when it’s uttered. A word like “assiduously”, on the other hand, you might have a bit more trouble with, but your brain remembers that it does, in fact, mean, “showing careful and constant attention.” You might not have fully apprehended the meaning of the word, and you may not have seen it for weeks, months, or perhaps even years, but you know what it means because your marvelous brain nutates on top of your soma, sending messages throughout your whole body at speeds in excess of two hundred miles per hour.
But why can you recall “excogitated”? Excogitated is almost certainly (except for the conglomeration of logophiles out there) a word you have never encountered in common use. Instead of being filled with trepidation when you spotted it, however, you easily perceived the meaning because you know that “cogitare” (Latin) gives birth to a host of words all having to do with thinking.
Then you come to absquatulate. It may seem a smidge verbose to use such a heinously cyclopean word, but such a sesquipedalian reference was almost certain to prove my point. You don’t know words you can’t connect to your quondam self. You have no history with “squatul”, a pseudo-Latin root, therefore you cannot determine its meaning.
Or can you? Looking closely, you see that “squatul” contains “squat”, and you know “ab” from words like abscess and abscond, therefore you could theorize (correctly) that “absquatulate” means, literally “to squat elsewhere” or, in “common” usage, “to depart in a hurry.”
Lest I drag this out too far, the point is pretty clear. You can determine the meaning of practically any word simply by tracing its roots in the context of your life. Teachers tend to tell us to figure out words from context, but if there is none (i.e. dreaded SATs), you can find word meanings from your own experiences.
This, then, is the way we learn language. We aren’t hard-wired with a meaning of the word “hot” in our brains, but the first time we encounter a “hot” stove, we have it instantly and clearly defined forever. Likewise, an obscure medical condition like “gingivitis” is familiar because of countless toothpaste commercials we see. Whether the word is polysyllabic or a jot, we have an idea of the meaning simply by referring to what we already know.
English has more than a million words. It would be impossible to know them all, so trying to study for a test that could have any of the million words on it could be a daunting task. Trying to memorize from a list would be fruitless at worst, insipid at best. Besides, lists are dead. As one spokesperson for the aforementioned SAT said, “Word lists are out; reading is in.”
That is precisely how we absorb language, and it is how we are to absorb Jesus Christ as well. Granted, we should study the Bible and rightly divide it, but all things are for Christ – He is preeminent in all things. Thus, when walking down the street, every moment is speaking on behalf of our Savior. Every person you contact, every memory you make, and every place you visit should give you a deeper understanding of who this Son of God truly is. If you are missing God’s message as plastered through His creation, I would say that you have missed the point of life so far.
The vast number of words in English shows parallels the thirty one thousand one hundred one verses in the Bible. In the nearly eight hundred thousand words making up those verses, we find roughly six thousand four hundred sixty eight commands. Even if we were able to remember all of them, there’s absolutely no way we would be able to obey all of them or in any way make them practical to our lives; there are simply too many.
So don’t squander your time soaking up tedious testing strategies, theoretical concepts, and Bible babble. Engage yourself in your world. We live in a world where Jesus Christ is broadcasting His message, and that makes it a great place to learn about His character. Living in the light of His grace and doing your best to obey His Word is a great way to make sure you’re right where you need to be. Sure, you need the Bible to help you understand exactly what context is saying. We would not want to get Jesus Christ wrong because we did not study His Word, and, after all, the Bible is our best source of information about God. Raise your awareness context to a higher level, though, and soon your theology will rank with the best heroes of the faith. See what God has waiting for you in every moment.
You will understand much of the obscure language of this post without any difficulty not because you tediously excogitated how to expand your already vast repertoire of words; it’s simply because you are already adept in the English language.
Our brains are wonderfully diligent things that analyze and compile colossal amounts of information in relatively nugatory amounts of time, and ever since we were puerile moppets listening to the babblings of senior orators, our brains have been amassing hoards of words with which we are now proficient.
Now, before my jejune and vapid locution causes you to absquatulate away from this piece, let me just point out a few key benefits of this brain that assiduously apprises you of what in the world I’m talking about. The context in which you abide has taught you the meaning of “common words”. You understand what “understand” is, and you have total comprehension when it’s uttered. A word like “assiduously”, on the other hand, you might have a bit more trouble with, but your brain remembers that it does, in fact, mean, “showing careful and constant attention.” You might not have fully apprehended the meaning of the word, and you may not have seen it for weeks, months, or perhaps even years, but you know what it means because your marvelous brain nutates on top of your soma, sending messages throughout your whole body at speeds in excess of two hundred miles per hour.
But why can you recall “excogitated”? Excogitated is almost certainly (except for the conglomeration of logophiles out there) a word you have never encountered in common use. Instead of being filled with trepidation when you spotted it, however, you easily perceived the meaning because you know that “cogitare” (Latin) gives birth to a host of words all having to do with thinking.
Then you come to absquatulate. It may seem a smidge verbose to use such a heinously cyclopean word, but such a sesquipedalian reference was almost certain to prove my point. You don’t know words you can’t connect to your quondam self. You have no history with “squatul”, a pseudo-Latin root, therefore you cannot determine its meaning.
Or can you? Looking closely, you see that “squatul” contains “squat”, and you know “ab” from words like abscess and abscond, therefore you could theorize (correctly) that “absquatulate” means, literally “to squat elsewhere” or, in “common” usage, “to depart in a hurry.”
Lest I drag this out too far, the point is pretty clear. You can determine the meaning of practically any word simply by tracing its roots in the context of your life. Teachers tend to tell us to figure out words from context, but if there is none (i.e. dreaded SATs), you can find word meanings from your own experiences.
This, then, is the way we learn language. We aren’t hard-wired with a meaning of the word “hot” in our brains, but the first time we encounter a “hot” stove, we have it instantly and clearly defined forever. Likewise, an obscure medical condition like “gingivitis” is familiar because of countless toothpaste commercials we see. Whether the word is polysyllabic or a jot, we have an idea of the meaning simply by referring to what we already know.
English has more than a million words. It would be impossible to know them all, so trying to study for a test that could have any of the million words on it could be a daunting task. Trying to memorize from a list would be fruitless at worst, insipid at best. Besides, lists are dead. As one spokesperson for the aforementioned SAT said, “Word lists are out; reading is in.”
That is precisely how we absorb language, and it is how we are to absorb Jesus Christ as well. Granted, we should study the Bible and rightly divide it, but all things are for Christ – He is preeminent in all things. Thus, when walking down the street, every moment is speaking on behalf of our Savior. Every person you contact, every memory you make, and every place you visit should give you a deeper understanding of who this Son of God truly is. If you are missing God’s message as plastered through His creation, I would say that you have missed the point of life so far.
The vast number of words in English shows parallels the thirty one thousand one hundred one verses in the Bible. In the nearly eight hundred thousand words making up those verses, we find roughly six thousand four hundred sixty eight commands. Even if we were able to remember all of them, there’s absolutely no way we would be able to obey all of them or in any way make them practical to our lives; there are simply too many.
So don’t squander your time soaking up tedious testing strategies, theoretical concepts, and Bible babble. Engage yourself in your world. We live in a world where Jesus Christ is broadcasting His message, and that makes it a great place to learn about His character. Living in the light of His grace and doing your best to obey His Word is a great way to make sure you’re right where you need to be. Sure, you need the Bible to help you understand exactly what context is saying. We would not want to get Jesus Christ wrong because we did not study His Word, and, after all, the Bible is our best source of information about God. Raise your awareness context to a higher level, though, and soon your theology will rank with the best heroes of the faith. See what God has waiting for you in every moment.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Seek Me!
My friend likes to drink diet Coke. A lot. She is so obsessed with diet Coke that when we travel somewhere, she will literally pack a case of the stuff in her luggage so that when she arrives at her destination, she will have diet Coke instantly in her possession. She drinks it during church; she drinks it during school; and with every meal, another can of diet Coke bites the dust at her taste buds.
Somehow I can’t help but think that it’s dreadfully unhealthy to be that obsessed with diet Coke. When you can barely breathe without inhaling a soft drink, I would personally classify it as an addiction. Combined with the fact that diet Coke shines up metal quite nicely, I predict, however medically errant, that my friend will one day find that diet Coke has eaten a hole through her stomach or some other similar catastrophe.
Diet Coke, in my mind, is not particularly worthy of my affection. I can’t stand the stuff. The only time that I will willingly order Diet Coke is when I am in another country and the alternative is drinking the less-than-sanitary water. Otherwise, my stomach will see no Coke products as long as I am conscious.
To my friend, though, it’s a totally different story. Rather than spurning the ulcer-in-a-can, she drinks the stuff with religious passion, fervently devoted to her addiction. She can probably control her cravings for it, but I highly doubt she wants to. She has become thoroughly enamored with her beloved beverage, and there’s not much that anyone can say to dissuade her.
Somehow, I admire her for her devotion. When others are switching to coffee, Pepsi, juices, and other Diet Coke alternatives, my friend remains faithful to her passion, always pursuing that thing that makes her happy. However misguided it may be, I desire that same devotion in myself, only I would like it to be directed in an entirely different direction.
The book of Isaiah leaves me a challenge to desire and seek after God with every ounce of my being. When I read the book, it seems like the entire thing, all sixty six chapters, are there to scream at me that I don’t desire God as much as I should. The book is obviously intended more to chastise Israel and predict future events, but my feeble little God-seeking mind finds it telling me that God is worthy of my affection but I put it somewhere else instead.
The book starts right off telling how God wants Israel to bring Him real devotion, not just lip service and religiosity. It continues with a challenge from God to find an offer better than His:
Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.
If you are willing and obedient,
you shall eat the good of the land;
but if you refuse and rebel,
you shall be eaten by the sword;
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken." –Isaiah 1:18-20
Then, God spends the rest of his book hammering home the idea that mankind, all of us, have moseyed away from His fold in search of some fulfillment, only to find life empty and meaningless.
He shows us what we miss out on when we wander by taking calling Isaiah to his ministry in chapter 6. Isaiah is taken into the lair of the Lord and given special direction from God Himself. I can’t even begin to comprehend what this scene looked like when Isaiah stood before a holy God and worshipped in His temple. All I know is that it was absolutely amazing.
The God that Isaiah describes is so powerful, so great, that the very train of His robe fills the entire temple. Regardless of what temple is being referred to in this passage, I think it’s safe to say that you are powerful if you merit a robe with a train so big that it would not just cover but fill a building rivaling the size of a modern football stadium. And with all this size, it doesn’t even begin to capture the idea of how big this God really is.
He commands a legion of seraphim who ceaselessly fly around His throne, worshipping Him and singing His praises. It has always been interesting to me how often creatures around the throne of God sing “Holy!” I’m a lover of words, and it seems to me that in heaven, we would find many, many words to describe attributes of an infinite God, and so it never made sense to me that angelic being fly before God and only cry, “Holy!”
Perhaps there are more verses to the angels’ song. They are there to praise God each day, but like us, they are finite beings, trapped by some sort of limits. Thus, in the presence of a holy and infinite Creator, they worship not out of duty or purpose, but out of awe. And, though there are more verses to their song, as they sing the first verse, they become so overwhelmed with the glory of this God that they forget all the words they are bringing to this King, and they start their song anew.
I don’t know where I heard that explanation of the angels’ worship, but it’s not mine. I like it though; it seems to explain to me just how incomprehensible the God that Isaiah saw truly is. There’s more to Isaiah’s book than just a big, indifferent God, too. Isaiah contains rich prophecy about the coming Messiah who would take away all the sins of the world.
Thus, when reading Isaiah’s book, you can’t help but be besieged by the thought that such a holy God would sacrifice for such a worthless creature.
And yet, as humans, we wander away. We spend our time squabbling about things that will never amount to anything when compared to the surpassing greatness of God. Instead, we should be passionately pursuing His glory, relentlessly sold out to honoring the One who paid it all.
I want to want Jesus. I want to have a passion for Him that is far greater than my friend’s passion for Diet Coke. Some days, my passion for Christ is as big as I dream. But I am a human being, and I think human beings are naturally inclined to forget the eternal to focus on the temporal. Maybe you’re there too, and you’re struggling with how to find God in every moment, how to experience Him in every facet of your life.
If so, I hope you spend time with your Lord every day. I hope you start trying to find Him in every person you meet, every book you read, and every word you utter. God invented communication, and there’s no one better at communicating. We have to stop and listen, though.
We’re called to seek God first and desire Him with all our hearts, but, as the great hymn says, we’re prone to wander. Don’t follow Israel’s path. Don’t trade in eternity for the moment, but savor every moment as a gift of communication from God.
Somehow I can’t help but think that it’s dreadfully unhealthy to be that obsessed with diet Coke. When you can barely breathe without inhaling a soft drink, I would personally classify it as an addiction. Combined with the fact that diet Coke shines up metal quite nicely, I predict, however medically errant, that my friend will one day find that diet Coke has eaten a hole through her stomach or some other similar catastrophe.
Diet Coke, in my mind, is not particularly worthy of my affection. I can’t stand the stuff. The only time that I will willingly order Diet Coke is when I am in another country and the alternative is drinking the less-than-sanitary water. Otherwise, my stomach will see no Coke products as long as I am conscious.
To my friend, though, it’s a totally different story. Rather than spurning the ulcer-in-a-can, she drinks the stuff with religious passion, fervently devoted to her addiction. She can probably control her cravings for it, but I highly doubt she wants to. She has become thoroughly enamored with her beloved beverage, and there’s not much that anyone can say to dissuade her.
Somehow, I admire her for her devotion. When others are switching to coffee, Pepsi, juices, and other Diet Coke alternatives, my friend remains faithful to her passion, always pursuing that thing that makes her happy. However misguided it may be, I desire that same devotion in myself, only I would like it to be directed in an entirely different direction.
The book of Isaiah leaves me a challenge to desire and seek after God with every ounce of my being. When I read the book, it seems like the entire thing, all sixty six chapters, are there to scream at me that I don’t desire God as much as I should. The book is obviously intended more to chastise Israel and predict future events, but my feeble little God-seeking mind finds it telling me that God is worthy of my affection but I put it somewhere else instead.
The book starts right off telling how God wants Israel to bring Him real devotion, not just lip service and religiosity. It continues with a challenge from God to find an offer better than His:
Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.
If you are willing and obedient,
you shall eat the good of the land;
but if you refuse and rebel,
you shall be eaten by the sword;
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken." –Isaiah 1:18-20
Then, God spends the rest of his book hammering home the idea that mankind, all of us, have moseyed away from His fold in search of some fulfillment, only to find life empty and meaningless.
He shows us what we miss out on when we wander by taking calling Isaiah to his ministry in chapter 6. Isaiah is taken into the lair of the Lord and given special direction from God Himself. I can’t even begin to comprehend what this scene looked like when Isaiah stood before a holy God and worshipped in His temple. All I know is that it was absolutely amazing.
The God that Isaiah describes is so powerful, so great, that the very train of His robe fills the entire temple. Regardless of what temple is being referred to in this passage, I think it’s safe to say that you are powerful if you merit a robe with a train so big that it would not just cover but fill a building rivaling the size of a modern football stadium. And with all this size, it doesn’t even begin to capture the idea of how big this God really is.
He commands a legion of seraphim who ceaselessly fly around His throne, worshipping Him and singing His praises. It has always been interesting to me how often creatures around the throne of God sing “Holy!” I’m a lover of words, and it seems to me that in heaven, we would find many, many words to describe attributes of an infinite God, and so it never made sense to me that angelic being fly before God and only cry, “Holy!”
Perhaps there are more verses to the angels’ song. They are there to praise God each day, but like us, they are finite beings, trapped by some sort of limits. Thus, in the presence of a holy and infinite Creator, they worship not out of duty or purpose, but out of awe. And, though there are more verses to their song, as they sing the first verse, they become so overwhelmed with the glory of this God that they forget all the words they are bringing to this King, and they start their song anew.
I don’t know where I heard that explanation of the angels’ worship, but it’s not mine. I like it though; it seems to explain to me just how incomprehensible the God that Isaiah saw truly is. There’s more to Isaiah’s book than just a big, indifferent God, too. Isaiah contains rich prophecy about the coming Messiah who would take away all the sins of the world.
Thus, when reading Isaiah’s book, you can’t help but be besieged by the thought that such a holy God would sacrifice for such a worthless creature.
And yet, as humans, we wander away. We spend our time squabbling about things that will never amount to anything when compared to the surpassing greatness of God. Instead, we should be passionately pursuing His glory, relentlessly sold out to honoring the One who paid it all.
I want to want Jesus. I want to have a passion for Him that is far greater than my friend’s passion for Diet Coke. Some days, my passion for Christ is as big as I dream. But I am a human being, and I think human beings are naturally inclined to forget the eternal to focus on the temporal. Maybe you’re there too, and you’re struggling with how to find God in every moment, how to experience Him in every facet of your life.
If so, I hope you spend time with your Lord every day. I hope you start trying to find Him in every person you meet, every book you read, and every word you utter. God invented communication, and there’s no one better at communicating. We have to stop and listen, though.
We’re called to seek God first and desire Him with all our hearts, but, as the great hymn says, we’re prone to wander. Don’t follow Israel’s path. Don’t trade in eternity for the moment, but savor every moment as a gift of communication from God.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Challenges
I like to be challenged. People lay challenges out before me often, and almost one hundred percent of the time, I will take their challenge, even if it is totally ludicrous.
When I was a freshman in high school, my soccer team traveled far away to a soccer game and got snowed in. Because the game was so far away and there was so much snow, the school decided it made more sense for us to stay up there over night than for us to drive back to the school and then have to return the next day to play. As high school boys do, we settled down to a lovely evening of general merriment. Cards came out, food was purchased, and various other boyish activities took place.
In the midst of the jollity, a friend of mine mentioned how it was impossible to lick your elbow. I, always loving challenges and seeking one for the evening, contested this fact. The two of us went back and forth for a bit before I decided to just prove to him that I could in fact lick my elbow. Now, between you and me, I had never even thought about attempting to lick my elbow before this moment in my life, but I was fairly certain that I could do it.
Everyone reading this right now is expecting me to write a paragraph right here about how I failed miserably in my quest, but sadly, you will be disappointed. Instead, I moved my elbow up, stuck my tongue out, and licked the end of it, much to the amazement of my teammates.
That is sort of a silly challenge, but it is the sort of challenge that I love. It is a challenge to do something impossible. I think I would be a great candidate to replace the guys on Mythbusters when they decide to retire because I am an eternal skeptic who loves to defy absolute impossibilities. When Mythbusters proved that it was, in fact, possible to fold a piece of paper more than seven times, I was thrilled because even though it spoils some fun fact fiascos, it proves once again how something impossible is possible to a sufficiently determined opponent.
Another ridiculous challenge came my way when I was in high school. An English teacher challenged me to write a paragraph of at least one hundred words that contained no repeated words. Certain words are easy to not repeat, but words like “an,” “a,” “the” and so forth are tremendously difficult to avoid reiterating. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually formed this, a one hundred forty one word paragraph with no repeated words:
“Once, when blackness became shrouded in darkness, tiny, feeble creatures emerged from nowhere, hoping to capture innocence with dignity. Haste was utmost importance, but there is no way that theft can be rushed. Yet, the odd thing visible through this matter becomes clearer as daylight dwindles. Figures masked furthermore having murky capes were not ones for fear, nor did they invoke harm. Merely and humbly, all these saviors held by black saved us at very last seconds. Creeping among flora, peculiar beings retreated fiercely homeward, so we could live forever on peaceful earth, without dreading death plus destruction. Abroad, threats exist still. Nothing will ever stop such ghastly beasts, or perhaps something shall destroy them after our time. Either living mortal may prevail, else loss wins. Rebirth separate of bullying solely brings licensed freedom. Life shares common space amongst love alone.”
Perhaps it’s not the most coherent paragraph you have ever read, but it works, and it won me my challenge.
It occurs to me, though, that humans routinely do things that are considered nearly impossible simply because they’re challenged. The Mythbusters guys have made a fine living out of disproving impossibilities. The fact of the matter is that people succeed at almost everything they are given to do if they put enough time, effort, and money into it. It boggles my mind, then, when I consider that God can do things greatly beyond our ability.
He is not limited in His creative power. Nothing presents itself to God as a challenge. Man may be able to move mountains, but it takes him years and billions of dollars and loads of manpower. God merely speaks, and entire mountain ranges are demolished or formed. It makes me stop in awe when I consider the works that God can do.
There are no challenges to God. He finds nothing difficult. That gives me great comfort, because when I finally find things that cannot be done by man or when there are insurmountable obstacles in my path, it means I can lean on Jesus. Whatever challenge I’m facing that day looks like child’s play to a limitless God. It gives me hope to know that nothing challenges my God.
My challenges to God seem huge in my eyes, but God picks them up without batting an eyelash. For example, when I worry about how I’m going to pay for college, I’m reminded that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and the hills the cattle are standing on. When I’m worried about how I’m going to get all my work done, I’m reminded that He created work and time, and He is perfectly capable of weaving the two together.
God is not one who responds well to challenges because that would be questioning His sovereignty, but He is one who frequently does the impossible out of love for His children. Look at some of the cooler military examples from the Old Testament. When Gideon needed to rail on the Midianites and the Amalekites, God managed to do it without lifting a sword. Hezekiah was looking at Sennacherib’s army and seeing certain defeat; then God decided it would be best if a pagan king did not destroy His chosen people on this particular occasion, and He routed the giant army.
Then of course there was the whole deal where God reached down and picked up this helpless sinner out of a pile of sin, giving Him the righteousness of Jesus Christ. That alone was pretty impossible, but God is the God of challenges.
He does things that are impossible routinely.
So cast all your cares upon Him, for He alone can care for you.
(oh, and comment, would you? :-) )
When I was a freshman in high school, my soccer team traveled far away to a soccer game and got snowed in. Because the game was so far away and there was so much snow, the school decided it made more sense for us to stay up there over night than for us to drive back to the school and then have to return the next day to play. As high school boys do, we settled down to a lovely evening of general merriment. Cards came out, food was purchased, and various other boyish activities took place.
In the midst of the jollity, a friend of mine mentioned how it was impossible to lick your elbow. I, always loving challenges and seeking one for the evening, contested this fact. The two of us went back and forth for a bit before I decided to just prove to him that I could in fact lick my elbow. Now, between you and me, I had never even thought about attempting to lick my elbow before this moment in my life, but I was fairly certain that I could do it.
Everyone reading this right now is expecting me to write a paragraph right here about how I failed miserably in my quest, but sadly, you will be disappointed. Instead, I moved my elbow up, stuck my tongue out, and licked the end of it, much to the amazement of my teammates.
That is sort of a silly challenge, but it is the sort of challenge that I love. It is a challenge to do something impossible. I think I would be a great candidate to replace the guys on Mythbusters when they decide to retire because I am an eternal skeptic who loves to defy absolute impossibilities. When Mythbusters proved that it was, in fact, possible to fold a piece of paper more than seven times, I was thrilled because even though it spoils some fun fact fiascos, it proves once again how something impossible is possible to a sufficiently determined opponent.
Another ridiculous challenge came my way when I was in high school. An English teacher challenged me to write a paragraph of at least one hundred words that contained no repeated words. Certain words are easy to not repeat, but words like “an,” “a,” “the” and so forth are tremendously difficult to avoid reiterating. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually formed this, a one hundred forty one word paragraph with no repeated words:
“Once, when blackness became shrouded in darkness, tiny, feeble creatures emerged from nowhere, hoping to capture innocence with dignity. Haste was utmost importance, but there is no way that theft can be rushed. Yet, the odd thing visible through this matter becomes clearer as daylight dwindles. Figures masked furthermore having murky capes were not ones for fear, nor did they invoke harm. Merely and humbly, all these saviors held by black saved us at very last seconds. Creeping among flora, peculiar beings retreated fiercely homeward, so we could live forever on peaceful earth, without dreading death plus destruction. Abroad, threats exist still. Nothing will ever stop such ghastly beasts, or perhaps something shall destroy them after our time. Either living mortal may prevail, else loss wins. Rebirth separate of bullying solely brings licensed freedom. Life shares common space amongst love alone.”
Perhaps it’s not the most coherent paragraph you have ever read, but it works, and it won me my challenge.
It occurs to me, though, that humans routinely do things that are considered nearly impossible simply because they’re challenged. The Mythbusters guys have made a fine living out of disproving impossibilities. The fact of the matter is that people succeed at almost everything they are given to do if they put enough time, effort, and money into it. It boggles my mind, then, when I consider that God can do things greatly beyond our ability.
He is not limited in His creative power. Nothing presents itself to God as a challenge. Man may be able to move mountains, but it takes him years and billions of dollars and loads of manpower. God merely speaks, and entire mountain ranges are demolished or formed. It makes me stop in awe when I consider the works that God can do.
There are no challenges to God. He finds nothing difficult. That gives me great comfort, because when I finally find things that cannot be done by man or when there are insurmountable obstacles in my path, it means I can lean on Jesus. Whatever challenge I’m facing that day looks like child’s play to a limitless God. It gives me hope to know that nothing challenges my God.
My challenges to God seem huge in my eyes, but God picks them up without batting an eyelash. For example, when I worry about how I’m going to pay for college, I’m reminded that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and the hills the cattle are standing on. When I’m worried about how I’m going to get all my work done, I’m reminded that He created work and time, and He is perfectly capable of weaving the two together.
God is not one who responds well to challenges because that would be questioning His sovereignty, but He is one who frequently does the impossible out of love for His children. Look at some of the cooler military examples from the Old Testament. When Gideon needed to rail on the Midianites and the Amalekites, God managed to do it without lifting a sword. Hezekiah was looking at Sennacherib’s army and seeing certain defeat; then God decided it would be best if a pagan king did not destroy His chosen people on this particular occasion, and He routed the giant army.
Then of course there was the whole deal where God reached down and picked up this helpless sinner out of a pile of sin, giving Him the righteousness of Jesus Christ. That alone was pretty impossible, but God is the God of challenges.
He does things that are impossible routinely.
So cast all your cares upon Him, for He alone can care for you.
(oh, and comment, would you? :-) )
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Witch Hunts in the Church
Adolf Hitler, probably the best propaganda expert to ever live, once said “The great masses of the people will more easily fall victims to a big lie than to a small one.” Throughout our history, Americans have proven Hitler correct multiple times, and we have set ourselves up to prove him right again. Throughout periods of our history, particularly through incidences like the Salem Witch Trials or McCarthyism, we have resorted to Draconian measures to extract what we thought was truth from those we thought were guilty, only to look back with chagrin on those times. Today, in a supposedly more sophisticated society, Americans are proving that we are still prone to believe big lies if we think our security is threatened. When we go on witch-hunts - proverbial or real - to solve our problems, we’re setting ourselves up for embarrassment when future generations examine their past.
In 1692, we the people of the United States decided it was in our best interest to hang nineteen of our fellow citizens and crush one to death. When things started going haywire in the communities surrounding Salem, Massachusetts in June of 1692, the general population bought into the lies of a few.
In the winter prior, Betty Parris, the daughter of Salem’s minister, had begun acting quite odd. She was contorted in pain, and she often would sprint from place to place in the house, diving under furniture and having epileptic-like fits on the ground. Historians have been unable to determine what started her fits; it may have been any combination of diseases such as asthma or epilepsy. She may have been abused or suffering from stress psychosis. Another theory about her delusions says a rare fungus that may have infested the wheat in Salem and poisoned her. Whatever the reason, it is clear that Salem’s reign of terror began with Betty Parris’ fits.
Shortly after Betty fell ill, other girls in the town began to experience similar symptoms. Ann Putnam, Mercy Lewis, and Mary Walcott all experienced some sort of convulsion that began to trigger mass hysteria throughout the village. As residents began searching for the answer, speculation began to arise that the cause of their diseases might be supernatural. As a staunch Puritan community, Salem’s citizens would naturally consider supernatural causes as part of their investigation, but their conjecture was further fueled by the recent publication of Cotton Mather’s Memorable Providences. In this book, Mather, an influential Boston minister, laid out the symptoms displayed by a woman who was supposedly bewitched in Boston the year before. Since some of this woman’s symptoms mirrored the symptoms of the girls in Salem, it began to be assumed that the girls were being spiritually tormented.
Soon, rumors began to swirl throughout the village, and a lie was born. Historians differ as to why the girls used their sickness to wield such enormous power over the town, but in the end the result was sickening. The afflicted girls began accusing upstanding citizens of the surrounding communities of various acts of witchcraft. As the attention contiguous on these girls grew, more of them became part of the action. Though they had not experienced the same strange medical symptoms, Mary Warren, Susanna Sheldon, and Elizabeth Hubbard were allowed to make accusations about others being witches. In just a few short months, Betty Parris and her posse of teenage girls had gone from being legitimately sick to a gang of lying juvenile delinquents.
More than one hundred people would be arrested on suspicion of consorting with the devil before Salem’s lust for blood would ebb; nineteen would hang for their crimes, one was pressed to death, and at least four others died in prison. The evidence used to incarcerate, bring to trial, and convict these supposed witches and wizards was based solely on spotty circumstantial testimony about the spectral delusions of the girls. At no trial was hard evidence ever presented to prove that any of those accused had ever been involved in any sort of witchcraft at all.
Salem is not the only place where America’s citizens have gone crazy in their quest for security, however. Jumping forward in our history a few hundred years, post-World War II America creates the perfect atmosphere for yet another round of witch-hunts to take place. Since the vast majority of Americans harbored a deep-seated fear about a Communist takeover, it was easy for a Senator from Wisconsin to incite the nation against what he thought were Communist infiltrators in our midst. Senator Joseph McCarthy, along with other agencies of the government like the House Un-American Activities Committee, sniffed out those who they thought posed a threat to the immediate security of the United States of America. Their claims, when examined in the context of history, seem fairly ludicrous today, but at the time, they made perfect sense to the American people.
The House Un-American Activities Committee, or the HUAC as it is commonly called, was granted extraordinary power during World War II. This panel, initially chaired by Congressman Martin Dies, was given the ability to inquire into virtually anything they wanted in order to sniff out those who might be able to fell us from the inside. During the war, the committee was often investigating the activities of many German-Americans, but following the war, the focus of the committee’s investigations shifted. Beginning with the trial of Soviet spy Alger Hiss in 1948, HUAC interrogated hundreds, imprisoned dozens, and executed a few in their quest to rid the world of communism. While they rarely brought solid evidence against those they accused, the members of HUAC felt that their reasons for interrogation were valid; they were protecting the American people. Most significantly, the board subpoenaed a large group of Hollywood film industry moguls to take part in the proceedings. Since some of the films produced at the time could be considered un-American, anyone connected to them, ranging from actors to directors to producers, was liable to find himself standing before HUAC on charges of espionage.
Among the first called upon to testify before the panel were ten film industry witnesses who refused to cooperate. These men, who became known as the “Hollywood Ten,” believed that they were legally protected from answering the panel’s questions, citing the First Amendment guarantee of free speech and the Fifth Amendment’s protection against self-incrimination. More than likely, these men saw the same thing looming in their futures that Giles Corey of the Salem trials had seen; regardless of the evidence and regardless of their testimony, they would be convicted. Corey had chosen to be crushed to death by stones in order to avoid almost certain conviction, and these ten chose to use the law as a defense against trial.
Their tactic failed. They were arrested on charges of contempt of Congress, and they were imprisoned for two to six months each. Future witnesses would claim similar defenses and be allowed to dodge appearances before the panel, but that did not mean that they were safe. Refusing to testify was often grounds for dismissal from a job, and there was the constant threat of being investigated by the FBI, an organization that sometimes used illegal measures to gain their information.
In the Senate, things were hardly better than they were in the House. A sister committee to HUAC, the Senate Internal Security Subcommittee conducted their own investigation of anti-American communist activity within the United States. Another committee, headed by the aforementioned Joseph McCarthy, investigated first the State Department, then the US Army, then US media forces. While McCarthy’s direct influence was short-lived, his influence on the period was huge. Loyalty review boards were formed in nearly ever sector of society to determine whether citizens were patriots or communists. If you were found to be anti-American, you were sentenced to the modern equivalent of hanging; you were denied work, and sometimes had your assets frozen. While no one was sent to the gallows for being anti-American, many were economically ruined by the findings against them, which were typically based on nothing more than hearsay regarding comments that they had once made.
Certainly, though, we have moved on from the archaic ways of justice that were present in the latter parts of our history. Most of us would never dream of being McCarthyists today. Yet despite our best efforts, the United States, and I would say the Church, unknowingly expose ourselves to the threat of once again believing lies to ensure our common defense.
In 2003, members of Congress called for several professors at elite universities to be fired after they were reported as having made remarks that were anti-American. The center of the maelstrom was a professor of Middle East Languages and Cultures at Columbia University, who was charged with being anti-American after sketchy evidence reported him making anti-Semetic remarks during one of his lectures. The witch-hunt in American academia began afresh as the spring of 2003 saw more than a few professors at major universities lose their positions of tenure over remarks that they had made regarding the United States’ involvement in the Middle East.
Meanwhile, in the land of the free and the home of the brave, students found themselves subjected to similar measures. A museum in New York City dedicated to flamboyantly pacifistic art was closed down following allegations that the museum was promoting an anti-American spirit and fueling terrorism. FBI agents who did not possess a warrant raided another similar museum located in Houston. Prior to business hours, the agents came to the museum insisting they be allowed to investigate the activity inside the gallery. This museum, which contains an exhibit entitled “Secret Wars,” was being investigated because of the artwork it contained.
The exhibit contains images such as a poster of George Bush holding a rope with a caption reading, “We hang on your every word, George Bush.” While the artwork may not be everyone’s cup of tea, it certainly doesn’t appear to pose any legitimate threat to American security, yet the museum was subjected to harsh scrutiny by the US government.
In our haste to protect ourselves from Islamofascists, we have once again allowed ourselves to be taken captive by the big lie that anything contrary to the status quo is dangerous. It is important to protect ourselves from the legitimate dangers that the world possesses, but engaging in witch-hunts as we have at other points in our history only leads to bitter divisions and a broken justice system. In order to stop the travesties of injustice from occurring again, we must be very careful not to let ourselves be carried about by every flighty rumor that comes our way regarding some danger we might be in.
You would think as Christians we would realize that witch-hunts are fruitless, but we use the same technique with our own members whenever they present an idea that is just a bit too risqué for polite conversation. We ostracize them, avoid their ideas, and even whisper about them behind their backs.
A friend of mine was rebuffed by a certain church’s leadership when he tried to start a ministry to divorcees. I admit that I can see problems with that program. For one, the church should not be endorsing divorce, and secondly, such an organization could quickly morph into a divorcee dating service. Nevertheless, the Church, which is very pro-marriage and very pro-family, should be doing something to reach an increasingly larger segment of hurting divorced people in our midst. Instead, we crucify those who try to reach them and refuse to fund or aid their programs. We starve out the ministry we do not like.
Another similar area is that of homosexuality. While the church spends lots of time defending the sanctity of marriage before lawmakers, there are very few churches that have active outreach to gay communities. Maybe we do not know how to reach homosexual people, but that has never stopped us before. With enough people getting creative, I’m certain we can come up with a way. It becomes difficult to minister to homosexuals without endorsing their homosexuality, but recognize that Jesus ministered to harlots. He did not shy away from the task of reaching a dangerous people group. Also recognize that the only thing that will make homosexual communities turn from a lifestyle of sin to a lifestyle of service is a relationship with Jesus Christ, whose love can reach to every heart.
Churches do not typically accept gay people into their midst with friendly greetings, nor do those who have a heart to reach those people find church members waiting to go witnessing with them. Prison ministries are popular; orphan ministries are popular. Homosexual ministries are incredibly unpopular. The devil is winning the battle over sexuality because he actively engages those who struggle with temptation. The Church not only fails to engage this culture; it ostracizes it.
Throughout its history, the Church has picked the ministry that’s not too messy and wholeheartedly devoted themselves to it; meanwhile, they use Darwinian techniques to kill off the ministries the Church does not like. Forcing ministry to take place in a “survival of the fittest-type” environment, the Church finds itself severely lacking in ministries to certain segments of society, most notably in the broken family department. Homosexuals are rarely ministered to; the number of ministries for boys who grew up without fathers is abysmally low; and ministries to those who represent immoral sexual lifestyles – namely porn stars and prostitutes – are practically non-existent. These people groups are easily accessible within our culture since all around us, just waiting and starving for the love of Jesus. They are ready to be reached and changed with the gospel of Christ, but the Church’s resources are too devoted to the programs that are safe – Awana, men’s breakfasts, women’s Bible studies, 5-day clubs, and the like.
To be fair, ministry to these groups is not easy. The Church must never find itself in a position where it endorses things that are contrary to the Word of God’s teachings. Ministering to kids in single parent homes is not easy because the vast majority of one parent homes are caused by arrest, addiction, or divorce. None of those things are positive or Godly, so we avoid them. Ministering to porn stars is not easy because we despise the profession that provides them with their income; therefore it is difficult for us to make them feel accepted and loved. Not to mention, it is not even a little bit polite to mention the name “porn star,” much less engage in the life of one to bring Jesus to him or her.
Plus, we must always be mindful of the Scriptural principle that says to be careful about causing others to stumble. When we engage in ministry to certain people groups, there are those in the congregations of the church who will not be able to minister to them with a clear conscience.
God designed each of the members of His body for a specific task, though, and we too often create an environment where some are unable to serve as God would have them serve because the Church refuses to reach a sector of the population. While there are legitimate concerns, there are also legitimate needs that go unfulfilled as the Church continues to feed the status quo.
The citizens of Salem learned the hard way that they should not be too hasty to jump to conclusions, and America has seen that using fear tactics to ensure safety is a poor way to create justice. Somehow we have managed to allow the spirit of Salem to creep into our churches, however, and we still employ the tactics of witch-hunts to keep ourselves secure in our Christianity. Let us not buy into the lie that we are at constant danger from that which differs in opinion from us, but let us instead find common ground in our differences and work towards reaching every segment of our society – regardless of their flaw – with the surpassing greatness of Jesus Christ.
Remember, we were once strangers and foreigners, too, but now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.
Remember that one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.
Finally, remember that Jesus Christ brings peace. Bring Him wherever peace is needed, making the Church an ambassador for His peace.
“For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility.” –Ephesians 2:14
In 1692, we the people of the United States decided it was in our best interest to hang nineteen of our fellow citizens and crush one to death. When things started going haywire in the communities surrounding Salem, Massachusetts in June of 1692, the general population bought into the lies of a few.
In the winter prior, Betty Parris, the daughter of Salem’s minister, had begun acting quite odd. She was contorted in pain, and she often would sprint from place to place in the house, diving under furniture and having epileptic-like fits on the ground. Historians have been unable to determine what started her fits; it may have been any combination of diseases such as asthma or epilepsy. She may have been abused or suffering from stress psychosis. Another theory about her delusions says a rare fungus that may have infested the wheat in Salem and poisoned her. Whatever the reason, it is clear that Salem’s reign of terror began with Betty Parris’ fits.
Shortly after Betty fell ill, other girls in the town began to experience similar symptoms. Ann Putnam, Mercy Lewis, and Mary Walcott all experienced some sort of convulsion that began to trigger mass hysteria throughout the village. As residents began searching for the answer, speculation began to arise that the cause of their diseases might be supernatural. As a staunch Puritan community, Salem’s citizens would naturally consider supernatural causes as part of their investigation, but their conjecture was further fueled by the recent publication of Cotton Mather’s Memorable Providences. In this book, Mather, an influential Boston minister, laid out the symptoms displayed by a woman who was supposedly bewitched in Boston the year before. Since some of this woman’s symptoms mirrored the symptoms of the girls in Salem, it began to be assumed that the girls were being spiritually tormented.
Soon, rumors began to swirl throughout the village, and a lie was born. Historians differ as to why the girls used their sickness to wield such enormous power over the town, but in the end the result was sickening. The afflicted girls began accusing upstanding citizens of the surrounding communities of various acts of witchcraft. As the attention contiguous on these girls grew, more of them became part of the action. Though they had not experienced the same strange medical symptoms, Mary Warren, Susanna Sheldon, and Elizabeth Hubbard were allowed to make accusations about others being witches. In just a few short months, Betty Parris and her posse of teenage girls had gone from being legitimately sick to a gang of lying juvenile delinquents.
More than one hundred people would be arrested on suspicion of consorting with the devil before Salem’s lust for blood would ebb; nineteen would hang for their crimes, one was pressed to death, and at least four others died in prison. The evidence used to incarcerate, bring to trial, and convict these supposed witches and wizards was based solely on spotty circumstantial testimony about the spectral delusions of the girls. At no trial was hard evidence ever presented to prove that any of those accused had ever been involved in any sort of witchcraft at all.
Salem is not the only place where America’s citizens have gone crazy in their quest for security, however. Jumping forward in our history a few hundred years, post-World War II America creates the perfect atmosphere for yet another round of witch-hunts to take place. Since the vast majority of Americans harbored a deep-seated fear about a Communist takeover, it was easy for a Senator from Wisconsin to incite the nation against what he thought were Communist infiltrators in our midst. Senator Joseph McCarthy, along with other agencies of the government like the House Un-American Activities Committee, sniffed out those who they thought posed a threat to the immediate security of the United States of America. Their claims, when examined in the context of history, seem fairly ludicrous today, but at the time, they made perfect sense to the American people.
The House Un-American Activities Committee, or the HUAC as it is commonly called, was granted extraordinary power during World War II. This panel, initially chaired by Congressman Martin Dies, was given the ability to inquire into virtually anything they wanted in order to sniff out those who might be able to fell us from the inside. During the war, the committee was often investigating the activities of many German-Americans, but following the war, the focus of the committee’s investigations shifted. Beginning with the trial of Soviet spy Alger Hiss in 1948, HUAC interrogated hundreds, imprisoned dozens, and executed a few in their quest to rid the world of communism. While they rarely brought solid evidence against those they accused, the members of HUAC felt that their reasons for interrogation were valid; they were protecting the American people. Most significantly, the board subpoenaed a large group of Hollywood film industry moguls to take part in the proceedings. Since some of the films produced at the time could be considered un-American, anyone connected to them, ranging from actors to directors to producers, was liable to find himself standing before HUAC on charges of espionage.
Among the first called upon to testify before the panel were ten film industry witnesses who refused to cooperate. These men, who became known as the “Hollywood Ten,” believed that they were legally protected from answering the panel’s questions, citing the First Amendment guarantee of free speech and the Fifth Amendment’s protection against self-incrimination. More than likely, these men saw the same thing looming in their futures that Giles Corey of the Salem trials had seen; regardless of the evidence and regardless of their testimony, they would be convicted. Corey had chosen to be crushed to death by stones in order to avoid almost certain conviction, and these ten chose to use the law as a defense against trial.
Their tactic failed. They were arrested on charges of contempt of Congress, and they were imprisoned for two to six months each. Future witnesses would claim similar defenses and be allowed to dodge appearances before the panel, but that did not mean that they were safe. Refusing to testify was often grounds for dismissal from a job, and there was the constant threat of being investigated by the FBI, an organization that sometimes used illegal measures to gain their information.
In the Senate, things were hardly better than they were in the House. A sister committee to HUAC, the Senate Internal Security Subcommittee conducted their own investigation of anti-American communist activity within the United States. Another committee, headed by the aforementioned Joseph McCarthy, investigated first the State Department, then the US Army, then US media forces. While McCarthy’s direct influence was short-lived, his influence on the period was huge. Loyalty review boards were formed in nearly ever sector of society to determine whether citizens were patriots or communists. If you were found to be anti-American, you were sentenced to the modern equivalent of hanging; you were denied work, and sometimes had your assets frozen. While no one was sent to the gallows for being anti-American, many were economically ruined by the findings against them, which were typically based on nothing more than hearsay regarding comments that they had once made.
Certainly, though, we have moved on from the archaic ways of justice that were present in the latter parts of our history. Most of us would never dream of being McCarthyists today. Yet despite our best efforts, the United States, and I would say the Church, unknowingly expose ourselves to the threat of once again believing lies to ensure our common defense.
In 2003, members of Congress called for several professors at elite universities to be fired after they were reported as having made remarks that were anti-American. The center of the maelstrom was a professor of Middle East Languages and Cultures at Columbia University, who was charged with being anti-American after sketchy evidence reported him making anti-Semetic remarks during one of his lectures. The witch-hunt in American academia began afresh as the spring of 2003 saw more than a few professors at major universities lose their positions of tenure over remarks that they had made regarding the United States’ involvement in the Middle East.
Meanwhile, in the land of the free and the home of the brave, students found themselves subjected to similar measures. A museum in New York City dedicated to flamboyantly pacifistic art was closed down following allegations that the museum was promoting an anti-American spirit and fueling terrorism. FBI agents who did not possess a warrant raided another similar museum located in Houston. Prior to business hours, the agents came to the museum insisting they be allowed to investigate the activity inside the gallery. This museum, which contains an exhibit entitled “Secret Wars,” was being investigated because of the artwork it contained.
The exhibit contains images such as a poster of George Bush holding a rope with a caption reading, “We hang on your every word, George Bush.” While the artwork may not be everyone’s cup of tea, it certainly doesn’t appear to pose any legitimate threat to American security, yet the museum was subjected to harsh scrutiny by the US government.
In our haste to protect ourselves from Islamofascists, we have once again allowed ourselves to be taken captive by the big lie that anything contrary to the status quo is dangerous. It is important to protect ourselves from the legitimate dangers that the world possesses, but engaging in witch-hunts as we have at other points in our history only leads to bitter divisions and a broken justice system. In order to stop the travesties of injustice from occurring again, we must be very careful not to let ourselves be carried about by every flighty rumor that comes our way regarding some danger we might be in.
You would think as Christians we would realize that witch-hunts are fruitless, but we use the same technique with our own members whenever they present an idea that is just a bit too risqué for polite conversation. We ostracize them, avoid their ideas, and even whisper about them behind their backs.
A friend of mine was rebuffed by a certain church’s leadership when he tried to start a ministry to divorcees. I admit that I can see problems with that program. For one, the church should not be endorsing divorce, and secondly, such an organization could quickly morph into a divorcee dating service. Nevertheless, the Church, which is very pro-marriage and very pro-family, should be doing something to reach an increasingly larger segment of hurting divorced people in our midst. Instead, we crucify those who try to reach them and refuse to fund or aid their programs. We starve out the ministry we do not like.
Another similar area is that of homosexuality. While the church spends lots of time defending the sanctity of marriage before lawmakers, there are very few churches that have active outreach to gay communities. Maybe we do not know how to reach homosexual people, but that has never stopped us before. With enough people getting creative, I’m certain we can come up with a way. It becomes difficult to minister to homosexuals without endorsing their homosexuality, but recognize that Jesus ministered to harlots. He did not shy away from the task of reaching a dangerous people group. Also recognize that the only thing that will make homosexual communities turn from a lifestyle of sin to a lifestyle of service is a relationship with Jesus Christ, whose love can reach to every heart.
Churches do not typically accept gay people into their midst with friendly greetings, nor do those who have a heart to reach those people find church members waiting to go witnessing with them. Prison ministries are popular; orphan ministries are popular. Homosexual ministries are incredibly unpopular. The devil is winning the battle over sexuality because he actively engages those who struggle with temptation. The Church not only fails to engage this culture; it ostracizes it.
Throughout its history, the Church has picked the ministry that’s not too messy and wholeheartedly devoted themselves to it; meanwhile, they use Darwinian techniques to kill off the ministries the Church does not like. Forcing ministry to take place in a “survival of the fittest-type” environment, the Church finds itself severely lacking in ministries to certain segments of society, most notably in the broken family department. Homosexuals are rarely ministered to; the number of ministries for boys who grew up without fathers is abysmally low; and ministries to those who represent immoral sexual lifestyles – namely porn stars and prostitutes – are practically non-existent. These people groups are easily accessible within our culture since all around us, just waiting and starving for the love of Jesus. They are ready to be reached and changed with the gospel of Christ, but the Church’s resources are too devoted to the programs that are safe – Awana, men’s breakfasts, women’s Bible studies, 5-day clubs, and the like.
To be fair, ministry to these groups is not easy. The Church must never find itself in a position where it endorses things that are contrary to the Word of God’s teachings. Ministering to kids in single parent homes is not easy because the vast majority of one parent homes are caused by arrest, addiction, or divorce. None of those things are positive or Godly, so we avoid them. Ministering to porn stars is not easy because we despise the profession that provides them with their income; therefore it is difficult for us to make them feel accepted and loved. Not to mention, it is not even a little bit polite to mention the name “porn star,” much less engage in the life of one to bring Jesus to him or her.
Plus, we must always be mindful of the Scriptural principle that says to be careful about causing others to stumble. When we engage in ministry to certain people groups, there are those in the congregations of the church who will not be able to minister to them with a clear conscience.
God designed each of the members of His body for a specific task, though, and we too often create an environment where some are unable to serve as God would have them serve because the Church refuses to reach a sector of the population. While there are legitimate concerns, there are also legitimate needs that go unfulfilled as the Church continues to feed the status quo.
The citizens of Salem learned the hard way that they should not be too hasty to jump to conclusions, and America has seen that using fear tactics to ensure safety is a poor way to create justice. Somehow we have managed to allow the spirit of Salem to creep into our churches, however, and we still employ the tactics of witch-hunts to keep ourselves secure in our Christianity. Let us not buy into the lie that we are at constant danger from that which differs in opinion from us, but let us instead find common ground in our differences and work towards reaching every segment of our society – regardless of their flaw – with the surpassing greatness of Jesus Christ.
Remember, we were once strangers and foreigners, too, but now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.
Remember that one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.
Finally, remember that Jesus Christ brings peace. Bring Him wherever peace is needed, making the Church an ambassador for His peace.
“For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility.” –Ephesians 2:14
Monday, June 18, 2007
Don't Eat Your Soul to Fill Your Belly
My friend Jon is truly one of the oddest boys you could ever meet. The picture of the rebellious, sometimes-passionate Gen X teen, Jon is impulsive, introverted, witty, and strange. He somehow manages to win our affections, but through it all, he maintains an air of oddity that is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in another human being.
I should also mention that Jon – undisciplined, lackadaisical, and sociable – weighs about one hundred pounds soaking wet, yet is almost six foot three inches tall. It came as a shock to me, then, when Jon let me know mid way through our senior year of high school that he had enlisted in the Marines. I shouldn’t have been surprised; it’s that kind of impulsive behavior that seems to define Jon. He’s the type of boy you would expect to grow up and live in a yuppie neighborhood of a major city, drinking Starbucks four times a day while dressed in blaze orange jumpsuits and wearing horn rimmed spectacles.
In case you’ve never noticed, Gen Xers like my friend Jon often have a very philosophical side to them. If you’ve never seen the musical Rent, I’m definitely not recommending it, but there’s most certainly a philosophical leaning interjected in nearly every phase of the musical. Instead of being apathetic adolescents, Gen Xers actually are often passionate people, committed to certain causes with insatiable zeal. Sometimes the causes are beyond what you would expect from such individuals, too. In Rent, the plot centers on themes like AIDS, homophobia, and racial tension. Yet, for reasons unbeknownst to the audience, there is a wonderfully dramatic moment in the middle of a scene where one of the characters exclaims, “The opposite of war isn’t peace; it’s creation.”
It curious to me that this yuppie generation, of which I am a proud member, would bother to insert passion into an otherwise apathetic existence. Yet instead of sitting around playing video games all day, there is an increasingly large segment of twenty-somethings that spends a hearty portion of time waxing philosophical. Rather than abandoning ancient art forms like poetry and painting because they are outdated or require too much energy, this otherwise lazy generation embraces such forms, attending art galleries and often supplying said galleries with their works.
Generation X is chock full of contradictions. The members are all at once listless and zealous, lethargic and energized, nationalistic and individualistic, carefree and depressed, satisfied and insatiable. It is a dynamic that sociologists and psychologists are baffled by, and as a member of this generation, I am no less perplexed by the yuppification of society. Certainly the roots of this generation are visible in history – the erosion of values, the overemphasis of philosophies, and the brainwashing of despair and science make it nearly impossible to prevent such a generation from being formed. Nevertheless, their name is fitting. Generation X is the generation of variables, a society where every moment of analysis shows you once more that the themes and structures of the generation are unknown and likely to remain so.
It is against this backdrop that my friend Jon fits. I love him to death, and he loves others to death, and there’s no day that goes by where something surprising does not come forth from his wellspring of randomness. In the spring of my senior year of high school, Jon and I, along with the rest of our classmates, traveled to New York City for our class trip. Most of us were suburban kids from middle class New Hampshire homes, so New York City, to us, was a giant playground. In the midst of the trip, however, Jon appeared one night wearing a black shirt on which he had pasted a bumper sticker reading, “Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly.”
Now, I do not have the foggiest notion where Jon got this sticker, nor do I care. The fact of the matter is, I think that “Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly” is a wonderfully Gen X way of saying what we as Christians have been preaching for centuries. Thus, I think Christians can and should learn two things from my friend Jon’s shirt.
First, we should realize that unique ways of reaching people are good. Since the Word of God finds itself as a lava lamp, repackaging the same message to a different audience, our message, while never compromising truth, should come to crowds in a way that is appealing to them. Gen X kids are more difficult to reach than most generations before us because we don’t follow any one trend. If that’s so, then the gospel needs to be available tons of different ways. If a bumper sticker reading, “Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly” can accurately convey the person of Jesus Christ to a lost child, then it is an effective means of sharing the gospel.
Yet, we as Christians tend to shy away from such forms of evangelism. It’s almost like we feel that certain methods or certain places are inappropriate scenarios in which to share God’s love. Some unique opportunities present themselves for Christians to present Jesus to a dying generation, but we often let the pitch slide by, content to sit back and take more conventional routs of presenting.
My church has taken on two brand new means of reaching the lost that I happen to think are stellar outreach mechanisms. The first involved considerable cost to the congregation, but paid for a team of professional Christian bodybuilders to come in and break stuff. Over a series of days, the guys demolished thousands of dollars in sports equipment, construction supplies, and other various objects as they proved they had loads of strength. They ran through walls of ice, snapped baseball bats (even metal ones) like twigs, and rolled frying pans up like tacos.
Some people would not lump such behavior with evangelism, but I witnessed it with my own eyes. A whole new set of people wandered into our church over those days, and some of them have stayed. Hundreds went forward to accept Christ as Savior when these powerful men shared their testimonies and their faith in Christ’s blood. Maybe the method was a bit out of the box, but the results prove that it was an effective means of reaching a segment of the population.
Another project my church took on was reaching bikers during Bike Week, an annual event that takes place in New Hampshire each summer. This week literally attracts millions of motorcycle enthusiasts into our state for a week of testosterone driven fun on loud and fast motorcycles. Seeing an opportunity, some men in my church took it upon themselves to put together a program to reach the bikers who flocked to our state. If people are literally pouring into your area, there is no better time to reach them with the gospel.
In case you haven’t noticed, there are tremendously successful churches that seem to use marketing more often than theology to reach the lost. I do not think it is the job of the Church to commercialize Jesus, and some churches turn their evangelization into an entertainment industry. Others, though, effectively engage audiences with Christ’s message because they present it in a way that is attractive to a particular demographic.
One of the masters of this craft is Bill Hybels, a man whose degree did not come from a seminary, but rather holds a degree in marketing. His church, Willow Creek, has touched millions for Jesus Christ. You may not agree with Willow Creek’s theology or even their method, but they have had an undeniable impact of the lives of people all over the world. The Church could do well to take a page out of their evangelism book.
The second point Jon’s shirt revealed to me is that too often we as Christians trade in eternity for the moment. We “eat our souls to fill our bellies,” as the sticker said. Christ has called us to live distinctly Christian lives that are completely sold out to Him in every aspect. That’s not always easy and it requires self discipline. The self discipline required is so great that the apostle Paul even said he beat his body to bring it into subjection.
One of the signs of maturity is the ability to delay gratification for a more profitable gain. Businessmen understand this concept. Sometimes it is necessary to spend money to make back a larger sum later. While it may hurt to shell out the capital to begin with, the promise of future gains is worth the cost.
Parents understand this concept, too. Even though most dads would love to own a boat or a summer home on the beach, they recognize that the pleasure derived from that sort of thing would last about eight minutes. Instead, paying for the education of their son or daughter takes priority and gives a lasting reward far greater than the pleasure the recreation could provide.
Unfortunately, most of us do not carry this level of maturity over into our Christian walks. Our eyes become bigger than our brains, and we cave into whatever pleasure we want in the moment. Instead of taming our tongues, we use scathing words because we are frustrated. Instead of hiding our eyes, we indulge in the images of scantily clad people floating across our screens. Instead of changing the radio station, we listen to the abominable music that blatantly mocks the things of the Lord. Instead of controlling our urges to eat, we gorge ourselves on the cake in the kitchen. Instead of encouraging a brother, we keep to ourselves because we don’t want to be mocked. Instead of showing up at church, we head to the NFL game or the ballpark. Instead of praying in the morning, we spend our moments sleeping in just a bit longer.
We eat our souls to fill our bellies all the time. We exchange eternal reward for temporal pleasures, and the result is that we have a consumer driven, self-centered, egoist society that has no idea how to live like a New Testament church. When we live in light of God’s principles, it requires work and it usually results in temporary pain of some sort. We may have to delay the pleasure we seek or avoid our own gratification. Despite this, God promises eternal reward far better than the gain we get in the moment. He gives us true joy in exchange for our momentary happiness, and He gives us lasting peace in exchange for our fleeting pleasure.
Live like a Christian should. Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly.
I should also mention that Jon – undisciplined, lackadaisical, and sociable – weighs about one hundred pounds soaking wet, yet is almost six foot three inches tall. It came as a shock to me, then, when Jon let me know mid way through our senior year of high school that he had enlisted in the Marines. I shouldn’t have been surprised; it’s that kind of impulsive behavior that seems to define Jon. He’s the type of boy you would expect to grow up and live in a yuppie neighborhood of a major city, drinking Starbucks four times a day while dressed in blaze orange jumpsuits and wearing horn rimmed spectacles.
In case you’ve never noticed, Gen Xers like my friend Jon often have a very philosophical side to them. If you’ve never seen the musical Rent, I’m definitely not recommending it, but there’s most certainly a philosophical leaning interjected in nearly every phase of the musical. Instead of being apathetic adolescents, Gen Xers actually are often passionate people, committed to certain causes with insatiable zeal. Sometimes the causes are beyond what you would expect from such individuals, too. In Rent, the plot centers on themes like AIDS, homophobia, and racial tension. Yet, for reasons unbeknownst to the audience, there is a wonderfully dramatic moment in the middle of a scene where one of the characters exclaims, “The opposite of war isn’t peace; it’s creation.”
It curious to me that this yuppie generation, of which I am a proud member, would bother to insert passion into an otherwise apathetic existence. Yet instead of sitting around playing video games all day, there is an increasingly large segment of twenty-somethings that spends a hearty portion of time waxing philosophical. Rather than abandoning ancient art forms like poetry and painting because they are outdated or require too much energy, this otherwise lazy generation embraces such forms, attending art galleries and often supplying said galleries with their works.
Generation X is chock full of contradictions. The members are all at once listless and zealous, lethargic and energized, nationalistic and individualistic, carefree and depressed, satisfied and insatiable. It is a dynamic that sociologists and psychologists are baffled by, and as a member of this generation, I am no less perplexed by the yuppification of society. Certainly the roots of this generation are visible in history – the erosion of values, the overemphasis of philosophies, and the brainwashing of despair and science make it nearly impossible to prevent such a generation from being formed. Nevertheless, their name is fitting. Generation X is the generation of variables, a society where every moment of analysis shows you once more that the themes and structures of the generation are unknown and likely to remain so.
It is against this backdrop that my friend Jon fits. I love him to death, and he loves others to death, and there’s no day that goes by where something surprising does not come forth from his wellspring of randomness. In the spring of my senior year of high school, Jon and I, along with the rest of our classmates, traveled to New York City for our class trip. Most of us were suburban kids from middle class New Hampshire homes, so New York City, to us, was a giant playground. In the midst of the trip, however, Jon appeared one night wearing a black shirt on which he had pasted a bumper sticker reading, “Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly.”
Now, I do not have the foggiest notion where Jon got this sticker, nor do I care. The fact of the matter is, I think that “Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly” is a wonderfully Gen X way of saying what we as Christians have been preaching for centuries. Thus, I think Christians can and should learn two things from my friend Jon’s shirt.
First, we should realize that unique ways of reaching people are good. Since the Word of God finds itself as a lava lamp, repackaging the same message to a different audience, our message, while never compromising truth, should come to crowds in a way that is appealing to them. Gen X kids are more difficult to reach than most generations before us because we don’t follow any one trend. If that’s so, then the gospel needs to be available tons of different ways. If a bumper sticker reading, “Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly” can accurately convey the person of Jesus Christ to a lost child, then it is an effective means of sharing the gospel.
Yet, we as Christians tend to shy away from such forms of evangelism. It’s almost like we feel that certain methods or certain places are inappropriate scenarios in which to share God’s love. Some unique opportunities present themselves for Christians to present Jesus to a dying generation, but we often let the pitch slide by, content to sit back and take more conventional routs of presenting.
My church has taken on two brand new means of reaching the lost that I happen to think are stellar outreach mechanisms. The first involved considerable cost to the congregation, but paid for a team of professional Christian bodybuilders to come in and break stuff. Over a series of days, the guys demolished thousands of dollars in sports equipment, construction supplies, and other various objects as they proved they had loads of strength. They ran through walls of ice, snapped baseball bats (even metal ones) like twigs, and rolled frying pans up like tacos.
Some people would not lump such behavior with evangelism, but I witnessed it with my own eyes. A whole new set of people wandered into our church over those days, and some of them have stayed. Hundreds went forward to accept Christ as Savior when these powerful men shared their testimonies and their faith in Christ’s blood. Maybe the method was a bit out of the box, but the results prove that it was an effective means of reaching a segment of the population.
Another project my church took on was reaching bikers during Bike Week, an annual event that takes place in New Hampshire each summer. This week literally attracts millions of motorcycle enthusiasts into our state for a week of testosterone driven fun on loud and fast motorcycles. Seeing an opportunity, some men in my church took it upon themselves to put together a program to reach the bikers who flocked to our state. If people are literally pouring into your area, there is no better time to reach them with the gospel.
In case you haven’t noticed, there are tremendously successful churches that seem to use marketing more often than theology to reach the lost. I do not think it is the job of the Church to commercialize Jesus, and some churches turn their evangelization into an entertainment industry. Others, though, effectively engage audiences with Christ’s message because they present it in a way that is attractive to a particular demographic.
One of the masters of this craft is Bill Hybels, a man whose degree did not come from a seminary, but rather holds a degree in marketing. His church, Willow Creek, has touched millions for Jesus Christ. You may not agree with Willow Creek’s theology or even their method, but they have had an undeniable impact of the lives of people all over the world. The Church could do well to take a page out of their evangelism book.
The second point Jon’s shirt revealed to me is that too often we as Christians trade in eternity for the moment. We “eat our souls to fill our bellies,” as the sticker said. Christ has called us to live distinctly Christian lives that are completely sold out to Him in every aspect. That’s not always easy and it requires self discipline. The self discipline required is so great that the apostle Paul even said he beat his body to bring it into subjection.
One of the signs of maturity is the ability to delay gratification for a more profitable gain. Businessmen understand this concept. Sometimes it is necessary to spend money to make back a larger sum later. While it may hurt to shell out the capital to begin with, the promise of future gains is worth the cost.
Parents understand this concept, too. Even though most dads would love to own a boat or a summer home on the beach, they recognize that the pleasure derived from that sort of thing would last about eight minutes. Instead, paying for the education of their son or daughter takes priority and gives a lasting reward far greater than the pleasure the recreation could provide.
Unfortunately, most of us do not carry this level of maturity over into our Christian walks. Our eyes become bigger than our brains, and we cave into whatever pleasure we want in the moment. Instead of taming our tongues, we use scathing words because we are frustrated. Instead of hiding our eyes, we indulge in the images of scantily clad people floating across our screens. Instead of changing the radio station, we listen to the abominable music that blatantly mocks the things of the Lord. Instead of controlling our urges to eat, we gorge ourselves on the cake in the kitchen. Instead of encouraging a brother, we keep to ourselves because we don’t want to be mocked. Instead of showing up at church, we head to the NFL game or the ballpark. Instead of praying in the morning, we spend our moments sleeping in just a bit longer.
We eat our souls to fill our bellies all the time. We exchange eternal reward for temporal pleasures, and the result is that we have a consumer driven, self-centered, egoist society that has no idea how to live like a New Testament church. When we live in light of God’s principles, it requires work and it usually results in temporary pain of some sort. We may have to delay the pleasure we seek or avoid our own gratification. Despite this, God promises eternal reward far better than the gain we get in the moment. He gives us true joy in exchange for our momentary happiness, and He gives us lasting peace in exchange for our fleeting pleasure.
Live like a Christian should. Don’t eat your soul to fill your belly.
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