I have some of the tell tale behaviors of late middle, or yea verily even old age. Fortunately, while I'm old enough to have some of these bad habits, I'm young enough such that after I've had them pointed out to me enough times, I can eventually remember to cease the offending behavior. In regard to this latter, I've stopped re-telling some of my favorite stories. Everyone seemed to like them the first five or fifty times, but now I'm getting that they're kind of old. There's nothing like a look of pure tedious bored indulgence to clear up perspective in this area. As a result, I've gone off looking for and even making some new stories.
One of the bad habits of old age is holding forth on how terrible everything is now versus how wonderful things were when "we" ("we" as in us ancient ones) were young. I can't think of anything more apt to suck light, hope and life out of a room or a person than a pronouncement of universal doom from a throne of gray haired experience. Maybe if our joints didn't hurt so much and if it wouldn't likely throw out our back, we could manage to kick the youngin' in the head while we're at it.
At the same time, a half century or more or less of life will tend to develop perspective in anybody paying the least bit of attention. Probably, the crucial thing that experience can teach the aged one in this context is to choose when, what and particularly how much to reveal about the days of yore. The bottom line in my opinion is that it should offer some help, hope or direction to the listener. In the current media driven culture, they've already heard enough news, sermons, warnings and pronouncements to last several life times. After all, we didn't give them a choice as to when they'd be born.
Never the less, the perspective of elapsed time can be helpful. I was raised by, in and around what Tom Brokaw has called The Greatest Generation. One of the things that was culturally quite common as I was growing up was the importance of commitment. There were many failures in this area, probably not a good many less than now. Even so, the cultural norm was to embrace the idea that when you said yes it meant yes. When you said no, it meant no.
I have a good number of relatives who said yes when their country asked them to defend their homes and even perhaps more importantly, the God given ideal of individual worth and sanctity. They did not run away or shirk even when they were propelled forward in the direction of near certain death by horrible planning and decisions. 416,800 paid with their lives for gulping, embracing horrendous necessity and saying yes.
These and all those who fought, similarly said no to the elimination of the hope of personal freedom and individual value. For this, we owe them our lives.
This passed on somewhat to my generation. To our unqualified credit, we spoke an unequivocal no to the idea that one person was more or less valuable than another, based on skin color. Many other battles, with perhaps less clear manifestations were also waged. In those grayer wars, the direction could be debated but the commitment of the warriors was clear and preeminent.
Maybe it's just me, but I find the past clarity of yes and no to have passed from public discourse. Yes' and no's are nearly always conditional and of limited duration. Life time commitments are sometimes wrapped in prenuptials. Commitments made to employees are made to help them feel better; not because we mean them. Parents abandon children.
Even so I think we can, in chosen moments, offer our children and grand children this: Let your yes be yes and your no be no. Choose each carefully; count it's cost. Accept the risk and pain these declarations bring along with any potential or real reward. Equivocate, delay or decline but do not commit to something and then retreat from commitment. Help them to learn what so many have suffered and died to leave to us: Our commitments really do have value and meaning.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tail Lights
When I was in college and still living in L.A. I had a fairly large circle of friends. Because it was large, there was a bit of a ranking. The easiest way to describe it would be as having friends-at-a-distance (you know them just well enough to know they're going to be a lot of work if you get closer), good friends (usually easy to get along with) and best friends (no explanation necessary but this bit makes the sentence symmetrical).
At some evening social gathering or the other, a good part of the entire circle decided to go someplace else that was a ways distant. I didn't know where it was so I said I'd follow one of the "friends-at-a-distance." He drove like a bat out of hell all the time but I do believe his annoying quotient was in full dominance that night. He believed it would be funny to drive 90, weave through traffic and leave me behind.
I remember this: I tried to followed his tail lights as he dodged in and out of traffic for quite awhile. I could not keep up and eventually his tail lights merged in the distance into everything else. He had lost me and I could no longer follow.
I follow Christ. There are a couple major contrasts with following Christ as compared to the debacle described above.
First, Christ wants you to be able to keep up, to the point that he'll go back and get you in many cases and at the very least wait for you. In this latter case, he will continue to wait even if you get off someplace well short of the intended destination.
Second, Christ is a very patient driver. He wants you to arrive at the destination. He even wants you to enjoy the journey...even in heavy traffic.
Interesting thing is I could follow my "friend's" car (note the ironic use of quotes) because I knew what it looked like. Christ's car is a good deal more pronounced than all the others. It's pretty cool. It's defined by our understanding of him gained by relationship and grace and by what we know of him from the bible. It's easy to follow if you keep your eyes open and are willing to deal with the traffic.
It's a broken world and accidents will happen. In those cases, Christ stops and renders assistance. The assistance is so profound that if we accept the help he offers we'll soon be thanking him for our terrible accident, even when it's limiting, debilitating, painful or all of the above.
Of course, we can wave him off and choose to deal with it ourselves. Even though I'm very much a DIY kind of guy, this is an area where I try to let him do the heavy lifting. He's just a whole lot better at it than I am.
I want to close by discussing the tail lights a bit. That is, to hammer the final nails in the metaphor's coffin.
If we don't know who and what we're following, if we can't recognize the tail lights when they sit immediately in front of us, we'll have trouble following. People do this and then organize themselves into communities of the intentionally blind, at least partly because they're at core not sure that they'll like the destination or who they are when they get there. Following and traveling changes not only our location. It also changes who we are.
We will all end up very different then what we are. Following Christ means abandoning the old gathering and location and going someplace different. There's really no room in the car for the things that held us at the old party. For some it is a big, profound and even integral part of their being that gets left behind. Leaving can be hard...even very hard...and even very sad. And even if you leave the party with some baggage you will be required to submit it for inspection and possibly rejection later. You though, will always be allowed and even begged to pass.
But the road beckons both with it's own promise and with the vision of the destination. As the journey begins the romance of change takes us over. If we pursue the tail lights we will arrive. If we don't, it's going to be a long drive.
At some evening social gathering or the other, a good part of the entire circle decided to go someplace else that was a ways distant. I didn't know where it was so I said I'd follow one of the "friends-at-a-distance." He drove like a bat out of hell all the time but I do believe his annoying quotient was in full dominance that night. He believed it would be funny to drive 90, weave through traffic and leave me behind.
I remember this: I tried to followed his tail lights as he dodged in and out of traffic for quite awhile. I could not keep up and eventually his tail lights merged in the distance into everything else. He had lost me and I could no longer follow.
I follow Christ. There are a couple major contrasts with following Christ as compared to the debacle described above.
First, Christ wants you to be able to keep up, to the point that he'll go back and get you in many cases and at the very least wait for you. In this latter case, he will continue to wait even if you get off someplace well short of the intended destination.
Second, Christ is a very patient driver. He wants you to arrive at the destination. He even wants you to enjoy the journey...even in heavy traffic.
Interesting thing is I could follow my "friend's" car (note the ironic use of quotes) because I knew what it looked like. Christ's car is a good deal more pronounced than all the others. It's pretty cool. It's defined by our understanding of him gained by relationship and grace and by what we know of him from the bible. It's easy to follow if you keep your eyes open and are willing to deal with the traffic.
It's a broken world and accidents will happen. In those cases, Christ stops and renders assistance. The assistance is so profound that if we accept the help he offers we'll soon be thanking him for our terrible accident, even when it's limiting, debilitating, painful or all of the above.
Of course, we can wave him off and choose to deal with it ourselves. Even though I'm very much a DIY kind of guy, this is an area where I try to let him do the heavy lifting. He's just a whole lot better at it than I am.
I want to close by discussing the tail lights a bit. That is, to hammer the final nails in the metaphor's coffin.
If we don't know who and what we're following, if we can't recognize the tail lights when they sit immediately in front of us, we'll have trouble following. People do this and then organize themselves into communities of the intentionally blind, at least partly because they're at core not sure that they'll like the destination or who they are when they get there. Following and traveling changes not only our location. It also changes who we are.
We will all end up very different then what we are. Following Christ means abandoning the old gathering and location and going someplace different. There's really no room in the car for the things that held us at the old party. For some it is a big, profound and even integral part of their being that gets left behind. Leaving can be hard...even very hard...and even very sad. And even if you leave the party with some baggage you will be required to submit it for inspection and possibly rejection later. You though, will always be allowed and even begged to pass.
But the road beckons both with it's own promise and with the vision of the destination. As the journey begins the romance of change takes us over. If we pursue the tail lights we will arrive. If we don't, it's going to be a long drive.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Pride Goeth Before Way Too Much
Pride has become a ridiculous word that labors along exhausted by over use. In fact its so over and misused that it's nearly impossible to tell whether it's a good thing or a bad thing.
We want people to take pride in their work but don't want to see pride if it's taken inappropriately. The modern example of the latter case is personified in the Al Gore-invents-the-internet fiasco. Remember how he invented the internet? No? Me neither.
I think pride is vaguely similar to a firearm. It serves to amplify whatever else is happening. Consider a hunting trip, target practice or defense of self or others in a life threatening situation versus a convenience store robbery. In one case the gun his helpful in the extreme. In the other, its a horror.
If a politician says he "takes pride" in his accomplishments, usually we will see that as good if we agree with him and as silly, ridiculous or even possibly offensive if we disagree. The experience of such a reaction (either good or bad depending on context) itself becomes a new event. It's true that its' a new event dependent on a previous event. I'm not aware of anyone ever taking pride for nothing. However, it's still a new event. And here's the thing, new events represent an invitation for good or bad and will as a result deliver their own consequence. As an example, the laughing at Al Gore's internet debacle was a consequence of him "taking pride," albeit inappropriately.
I think this leads necessarily to the idea that pride is either good or bad based on what it's being attributed to.
As with so much else, the ancient Greeks had excellent and far less confusing language in this area. There's a specific Greek word for bad pride. The word is hubris (usually pronounced hoo-briss). This word had a few very necessary and immediate associations for the ancient mind. Certainly one of the preeminent of these was this: Detached from reality. Someone imagining themselves to be greater and more than they actually were was probably the highest expression of this low crime. (Remember Al Gore?)
In ancient Greece, people suffered and even died from embracing hubris. Occasionally, they were killed for it. (I wonder if Al Gore's ever been to Greece?) Many more, suffered and died from it.
The thing that I find interesting and very sad, is that people are suffering and dying every bit as much or more now than they did 2000 years ago, as a result of choosing hubris. Now though, all we have is a context specific formulation in the form of the word "pride" that we have to vector to the vicinity of what we're talking about in order to correctly apply it. We can no longer be clear about the idea without a lot of preparation and discussion disentangling the different uses of pride. Society at large and our tastes and convenience usually prevent a clear understanding of the form and degree of the word "pride."
As awkward as this is to near the point of tragic in terms of being aware of hubris in ourselves and others, it might even be worse for what it carries along with it. Namely, the idea that pride itself is suspicious and even maybe intrinsically bad. In this formulation, we cannot take pride in ourselves without feeling trepidation.
I like to sum things when I write and particularly when I write here. I'm not going to do that today. I will only say that I think there are many many areas of morality, value and truth that cannot be plumbed properly until we start to remove or allow ourselves to be removed from hubris. At the same time we must begin to without qualification, embrace all in which we may be realistically, justly and accurately proud.
We want people to take pride in their work but don't want to see pride if it's taken inappropriately. The modern example of the latter case is personified in the Al Gore-invents-the-internet fiasco. Remember how he invented the internet? No? Me neither.
I think pride is vaguely similar to a firearm. It serves to amplify whatever else is happening. Consider a hunting trip, target practice or defense of self or others in a life threatening situation versus a convenience store robbery. In one case the gun his helpful in the extreme. In the other, its a horror.
If a politician says he "takes pride" in his accomplishments, usually we will see that as good if we agree with him and as silly, ridiculous or even possibly offensive if we disagree. The experience of such a reaction (either good or bad depending on context) itself becomes a new event. It's true that its' a new event dependent on a previous event. I'm not aware of anyone ever taking pride for nothing. However, it's still a new event. And here's the thing, new events represent an invitation for good or bad and will as a result deliver their own consequence. As an example, the laughing at Al Gore's internet debacle was a consequence of him "taking pride," albeit inappropriately.
I think this leads necessarily to the idea that pride is either good or bad based on what it's being attributed to.
As with so much else, the ancient Greeks had excellent and far less confusing language in this area. There's a specific Greek word for bad pride. The word is hubris (usually pronounced hoo-briss). This word had a few very necessary and immediate associations for the ancient mind. Certainly one of the preeminent of these was this: Detached from reality. Someone imagining themselves to be greater and more than they actually were was probably the highest expression of this low crime. (Remember Al Gore?)
In ancient Greece, people suffered and even died from embracing hubris. Occasionally, they were killed for it. (I wonder if Al Gore's ever been to Greece?) Many more, suffered and died from it.
The thing that I find interesting and very sad, is that people are suffering and dying every bit as much or more now than they did 2000 years ago, as a result of choosing hubris. Now though, all we have is a context specific formulation in the form of the word "pride" that we have to vector to the vicinity of what we're talking about in order to correctly apply it. We can no longer be clear about the idea without a lot of preparation and discussion disentangling the different uses of pride. Society at large and our tastes and convenience usually prevent a clear understanding of the form and degree of the word "pride."
As awkward as this is to near the point of tragic in terms of being aware of hubris in ourselves and others, it might even be worse for what it carries along with it. Namely, the idea that pride itself is suspicious and even maybe intrinsically bad. In this formulation, we cannot take pride in ourselves without feeling trepidation.
I like to sum things when I write and particularly when I write here. I'm not going to do that today. I will only say that I think there are many many areas of morality, value and truth that cannot be plumbed properly until we start to remove or allow ourselves to be removed from hubris. At the same time we must begin to without qualification, embrace all in which we may be realistically, justly and accurately proud.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Flash of Forever and the Eternity of Now
It's bad when your kids start asking you things that are hard to answer. It means you'll actually have to work to continue to sound intelligent. In turn, that brings the possibility they'll discover you're not actually omniscient.
Over time, their questions just get harder. Even so, I have to admit that I do like questions, even when they implicitly deliver my own vulnerability. Honestly though, I do occasionally take time to get used to the vulnerability part. Some questions can be a real splash of cold water.
Ultimately though, questions are usually a lot more fun than answers. Answers deliver stasis. Questions deliver possibility. Answers look backward. Questions look forward. In the end, the real value of any answer is that it leads to new and hopefully better questions. The questions don't always get better but thankfully, they often do.
In this vein, I don't think anything can be worse than questions about quantum physics and/or astrophysics. These questions are easy when kids are younger. Whether you're talking about stars, planets and moons or protons and electrons, nearly all such questions can be answered by spherical models of foam and hung on circles of wire. These are usually a bit off as pertains to heavenly bodies. With regard to atomic and sub-atomic structures these are bolder lies than the idea that Santa Claus has a workshop at the North Pole surrounded by condominiums stuffed full of odd looking elves. Never the less, the models are helpful to young minds just like Santa Claus can be a healthy component of Christmas fun.
The question from one of our adult kids the other day was to the effect of, "Is there really any such thing as time?" As a response, I initially tried something that is true to a large degree and sounds kind of profound. It's a quote repeated by many that originated with a science fiction writer in the early '20's. Here it is: "Time… is what keeps everything from happening at once" For those of you with kids, I'll admit that this answer is static, cheap and in the context it was asked, dead on arrival. As in much of life, anything approaching a real answer is much more expensive.
This is a huge, long lived question with physical, philosophical and theological implications. Only as an introduction (i.e. as opposed to a cheap answer), consider that what we typically call time in day to day experience doesn't have a lot of meaning to the universe at large. The clock we watch is primarily an artifact of our lifespans and consciousness interacting with our solar system. (If you're interested in starting a journey to the more complete, expensive answer to this question, which really only contains better questions, you can start here: Time)
I think spiritually, we could use a little more grounding in the capacities and limits of time. It's true that we do have to pay some umbrage to the clock on the wall just so we can all have agreement on the when part of "when and where." And so that at any given moment, I can know how late I am to everything. It's also true that it often becomes the tyrant of our daily lives when it's rightful place is nothing more than a temporal equivalent to "X marks the spot."
This is particularly true as applies to big concepts like grace and forgiveness. On the cross, Christ tells the thief, "Today, you will me with me in paradise." Subtext: "In the next few moments, after a life (i.e. long time) of crime and abuse your instantaneous change of heart and my grace and sacrifice will place you in the arms of eternal love and grace." In this context, the elapsed time meant nothing. The human heart meant everything. In fact, the past tense "meant" is only a nod to our two handed, non-digital friend hanging on the wall. Both Christ and the thief are still living in the glory, love and importance of that single moment...as well as all the other moments defining the lives of each and their impact on others. And likewise the rest of us.
Forever is what we are made for. It is the uninterrupted now.
PS. blogger.com has added a formatting option that allows automatic reformatting necessary to support mobile devices...like your iWhatever. I've enabled that feature for Wanderin'. Now you can wander while you Wander.
Over time, their questions just get harder. Even so, I have to admit that I do like questions, even when they implicitly deliver my own vulnerability. Honestly though, I do occasionally take time to get used to the vulnerability part. Some questions can be a real splash of cold water.
Ultimately though, questions are usually a lot more fun than answers. Answers deliver stasis. Questions deliver possibility. Answers look backward. Questions look forward. In the end, the real value of any answer is that it leads to new and hopefully better questions. The questions don't always get better but thankfully, they often do.
In this vein, I don't think anything can be worse than questions about quantum physics and/or astrophysics. These questions are easy when kids are younger. Whether you're talking about stars, planets and moons or protons and electrons, nearly all such questions can be answered by spherical models of foam and hung on circles of wire. These are usually a bit off as pertains to heavenly bodies. With regard to atomic and sub-atomic structures these are bolder lies than the idea that Santa Claus has a workshop at the North Pole surrounded by condominiums stuffed full of odd looking elves. Never the less, the models are helpful to young minds just like Santa Claus can be a healthy component of Christmas fun.
The question from one of our adult kids the other day was to the effect of, "Is there really any such thing as time?" As a response, I initially tried something that is true to a large degree and sounds kind of profound. It's a quote repeated by many that originated with a science fiction writer in the early '20's. Here it is: "Time… is what keeps everything from happening at once" For those of you with kids, I'll admit that this answer is static, cheap and in the context it was asked, dead on arrival. As in much of life, anything approaching a real answer is much more expensive.
This is a huge, long lived question with physical, philosophical and theological implications. Only as an introduction (i.e. as opposed to a cheap answer), consider that what we typically call time in day to day experience doesn't have a lot of meaning to the universe at large. The clock we watch is primarily an artifact of our lifespans and consciousness interacting with our solar system. (If you're interested in starting a journey to the more complete, expensive answer to this question, which really only contains better questions, you can start here: Time)
I think spiritually, we could use a little more grounding in the capacities and limits of time. It's true that we do have to pay some umbrage to the clock on the wall just so we can all have agreement on the when part of "when and where." And so that at any given moment, I can know how late I am to everything. It's also true that it often becomes the tyrant of our daily lives when it's rightful place is nothing more than a temporal equivalent to "X marks the spot."
This is particularly true as applies to big concepts like grace and forgiveness. On the cross, Christ tells the thief, "Today, you will me with me in paradise." Subtext: "In the next few moments, after a life (i.e. long time) of crime and abuse your instantaneous change of heart and my grace and sacrifice will place you in the arms of eternal love and grace." In this context, the elapsed time meant nothing. The human heart meant everything. In fact, the past tense "meant" is only a nod to our two handed, non-digital friend hanging on the wall. Both Christ and the thief are still living in the glory, love and importance of that single moment...as well as all the other moments defining the lives of each and their impact on others. And likewise the rest of us.
Forever is what we are made for. It is the uninterrupted now.
PS. blogger.com has added a formatting option that allows automatic reformatting necessary to support mobile devices...like your iWhatever. I've enabled that feature for Wanderin'. Now you can wander while you Wander.
Monday, May 30, 2011
WWJH
What Would Jesus Hate? Before your knee jerks, try the thought out for a moment.
I googled "what does Jesus hate"? This seems to be an area that interests a lot of people. I read one woman's post who said, "Jesus is not a hater." I've never been able to figure out what a "hater" is exactly.
The best I've been able to come up with is that it's a form of ad hominem attack. Here's how it works:
"I don't like cabbage."
"Who cares? You hate everything. You're just a hater."
The subtext is, "Since you're just a hater, what you say has no legitimacy" - especially but not exclusively the part about cabbage. I'm not such a fan of this particular new word. I think we have too many dehumanizing words and concepts as it is. We don't need new ones. And I say that even though I do in fact like cabbage.
Another poster took to listing all the things that either God or Jesus said he hated as taken from the bible. Hypocrisy was a recurring theme but there were a good many others as well. So maybe we can conclude that God is a hater. At least he's capable of hate. Here's a cut/paste example:
Rev 2:6,15 "But this you have, that you hate the DEEDS (WORKS) of the Nicolaitans [those who lord it over & rule over the laity, the brethren], which I [Jesus] also HATE. Thus you also have those [among you] who HOLD THE DOCTRINE (teaching) of the Nicolaitans, which thing I [Jesus] HATE. [example Diotrephes vs. Demetrius in 3Jn 10-13]
The amplified text here makes this a little hard to read, but in these selections (there were many many more) it does look like Jesus does in fact hate something or the other. In fact from this latter post I think it's safe to say that Jesus does have the ability to hate as an attribute. Clearly a Nicolaitan is something he hates.
Here's the thing in a nutshell: We project our wishes of what good is onto the reality of Jesus. Jesus was and is both God and a real person. He doesn't have a dark side. We do though and consequently our concept of hate and some other things as well becomes mixed and confused with our brokenness. Given the choice, I'd rather chase after Jesus' version of what good is than to make one up that I project back onto him.
If we're going to live in love with Jesus, as opposed to being in love with a projection of our wish fulfillment, tastes and sensibilities, we have to accept him (and the other two members of the Godhead as well) for who they are, not for who we think they are or worse, who we want them to be. This takes time, quiet and intention...and I think a bit of humility and courage as well. Thankfully, God will supply all of this in abundance if asked...persistently.
I quoted a woman above as saying "Jesus is not a hater." As I think I understand the word, he's not. However, I do think that there are things that Jesus hates. And I think it's a good idea to get comfortable with the concept that God can make us or let us be uncomfortable, sometimes even very uncomfortable either for our own good or for the good of others.
I'll take it one step further. I usually do. Our reactions to words like hate or anger have more to do with our projections of what these words stand for than what words like these really are at core. Consequently, these types of words become the vehicles that carry our brokenness inside them. Naturally we think they're intrinsically bad because, "self-esteem" not with standing (another misunderstood concept) we are all dubious about the goodness of our core natures. Deep down, we know we're broken.
My mission in life has become to accept God for who he is and what he has for me. To know God, I have to let go of me...even if I have to let God pry my fingers loose.
I googled "what does Jesus hate"? This seems to be an area that interests a lot of people. I read one woman's post who said, "Jesus is not a hater." I've never been able to figure out what a "hater" is exactly.
The best I've been able to come up with is that it's a form of ad hominem attack. Here's how it works:
"I don't like cabbage."
"Who cares? You hate everything. You're just a hater."
The subtext is, "Since you're just a hater, what you say has no legitimacy" - especially but not exclusively the part about cabbage. I'm not such a fan of this particular new word. I think we have too many dehumanizing words and concepts as it is. We don't need new ones. And I say that even though I do in fact like cabbage.
Another poster took to listing all the things that either God or Jesus said he hated as taken from the bible. Hypocrisy was a recurring theme but there were a good many others as well. So maybe we can conclude that God is a hater. At least he's capable of hate. Here's a cut/paste example:
Rev 2:6,15 "But this you have, that you hate the DEEDS (WORKS) of the Nicolaitans [those who lord it over & rule over the laity, the brethren], which I [Jesus] also HATE. Thus you also have those [among you] who HOLD THE DOCTRINE (teaching) of the Nicolaitans, which thing I [Jesus] HATE. [example Diotrephes vs. Demetrius in 3Jn 10-13]
The amplified text here makes this a little hard to read, but in these selections (there were many many more) it does look like Jesus does in fact hate something or the other. In fact from this latter post I think it's safe to say that Jesus does have the ability to hate as an attribute. Clearly a Nicolaitan is something he hates.
Here's the thing in a nutshell: We project our wishes of what good is onto the reality of Jesus. Jesus was and is both God and a real person. He doesn't have a dark side. We do though and consequently our concept of hate and some other things as well becomes mixed and confused with our brokenness. Given the choice, I'd rather chase after Jesus' version of what good is than to make one up that I project back onto him.
If we're going to live in love with Jesus, as opposed to being in love with a projection of our wish fulfillment, tastes and sensibilities, we have to accept him (and the other two members of the Godhead as well) for who they are, not for who we think they are or worse, who we want them to be. This takes time, quiet and intention...and I think a bit of humility and courage as well. Thankfully, God will supply all of this in abundance if asked...persistently.
I quoted a woman above as saying "Jesus is not a hater." As I think I understand the word, he's not. However, I do think that there are things that Jesus hates. And I think it's a good idea to get comfortable with the concept that God can make us or let us be uncomfortable, sometimes even very uncomfortable either for our own good or for the good of others.
I'll take it one step further. I usually do. Our reactions to words like hate or anger have more to do with our projections of what these words stand for than what words like these really are at core. Consequently, these types of words become the vehicles that carry our brokenness inside them. Naturally we think they're intrinsically bad because, "self-esteem" not with standing (another misunderstood concept) we are all dubious about the goodness of our core natures. Deep down, we know we're broken.
My mission in life has become to accept God for who he is and what he has for me. To know God, I have to let go of me...even if I have to let God pry my fingers loose.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Faith, Arrogance and the End of the World
"Did you maybe scoff a little while wondering — just a teensy bit, in a tiny place in the very back of your head — what you might do if Saturday were indeed your final day on the planet?" - Quoted from the AP article, "Apocalypse Not Now"
There's been a lot of news lately swirling around Harold Camping's prediction that the world as we know it would end on May 21st. There were supposed to be earthquakes, the rapture and presumably the onset of the tribulation. This proved to be incorrect.
Harold quoted the bible (apparently he caught something in a passage in 1 Thessalonians that everyone else had missed), and applied "geometric logic" (his term) to the problem to deduce the day and time in question.
I've seen any number of Facebook entries involving naked jumping (no need to leave behind an empty pile of clothes and might as well get a head start). Another favorite seems to be of the type, "Can I have your car since you don't need it where you're going and it's paid for?" There are many more of these. I am somewhat surprised to learn that there are many who can find as deep a root of sarcasm in themselves as I can find in myself. I had thought this was an area in which I uniquely excelled/struggled (ask me which it is on different days and you're likely to get different answers). I was wrong.
There are probably a number of good reasons why ridicule seems to be a universal response to prophet Harold's prediction, as expressed by both Christ followers and everyone else as well. Two however, stand out to me. First, on the Christ follower side, Harold's complete disregard for the most basic tenet in this area of doctrine, i.e. that the event he predicted will be a complete surprise to everybody. This causes everyone in the Christian camp to cringe a bit at the anticipated and even feared response of: "There go those ridiculous Christians again."
Second, for the non-Christ followers, while they don't identify with Christ and therefore don't seek out a paper bag of appropriate size to wear over their heads in response to prophet Harold's pronouncements, they do seem to experience a rush of ego at their own "How-could-people-be-so-STUPID?" flavor of triumph. In addition in some corners at least, I've detected a slight degree of relief. Either reaction is kind of surprising. Is it really news that someone said something stupid, regardless of religious affiliation? Why would you ever let yourself care the least bit about a ridiculous pronouncement from a quarter you either ignore or claim to enthusiastically disdain?
As a member of the Christ follower camp, I find Harold to be an object of pity and concern. That's because he's just done and said some things of which the God of the bible takes a very very dim view. False prophesies, regardless of intent, are not taken lightly. I never took Harold's prophecies seriously. However, I do take the bible seriously. Then admonitions and consequences aimed at false prophets are extreme. It's also true that God loves a repentant heart and I really hope that forgiveness is what Harold is asking for and receiving right now.
I have an opinion about this. I do think both camps have exhibited an unhealthy degree of arrogance regarding this non-event. To be clear, there's nothing wrong and in fact, everything right with stating facts and correcting error, again regardless of religious affiliation. Pointing and laughing however, seems to me to be at odds with the biblical idea that those who don't know Christ will identify those that do by their love. In fact, from what I've read and heard over the last few weeks, I'd have to say that a great proportion of Christ followers share much more with the non-Christ followers as regards their ability to ridicule, than they do with the church as described in the New Testament.
The world will one day end (you heard it here first...or at least most recently). It's also certain that your participation in it will end. Whether you hold God's participation in those facts tightly, loosely or not at all, I think we're all best served by not by pointing and laughing, but rather by sacrificing, holding and loving.
There's been a lot of news lately swirling around Harold Camping's prediction that the world as we know it would end on May 21st. There were supposed to be earthquakes, the rapture and presumably the onset of the tribulation. This proved to be incorrect.
Harold quoted the bible (apparently he caught something in a passage in 1 Thessalonians that everyone else had missed), and applied "geometric logic" (his term) to the problem to deduce the day and time in question.
I've seen any number of Facebook entries involving naked jumping (no need to leave behind an empty pile of clothes and might as well get a head start). Another favorite seems to be of the type, "Can I have your car since you don't need it where you're going and it's paid for?" There are many more of these. I am somewhat surprised to learn that there are many who can find as deep a root of sarcasm in themselves as I can find in myself. I had thought this was an area in which I uniquely excelled/struggled (ask me which it is on different days and you're likely to get different answers). I was wrong.
There are probably a number of good reasons why ridicule seems to be a universal response to prophet Harold's prediction, as expressed by both Christ followers and everyone else as well. Two however, stand out to me. First, on the Christ follower side, Harold's complete disregard for the most basic tenet in this area of doctrine, i.e. that the event he predicted will be a complete surprise to everybody. This causes everyone in the Christian camp to cringe a bit at the anticipated and even feared response of: "There go those ridiculous Christians again."
Second, for the non-Christ followers, while they don't identify with Christ and therefore don't seek out a paper bag of appropriate size to wear over their heads in response to prophet Harold's pronouncements, they do seem to experience a rush of ego at their own "How-could-people-be-so-STUPID?" flavor of triumph. In addition in some corners at least, I've detected a slight degree of relief. Either reaction is kind of surprising. Is it really news that someone said something stupid, regardless of religious affiliation? Why would you ever let yourself care the least bit about a ridiculous pronouncement from a quarter you either ignore or claim to enthusiastically disdain?
As a member of the Christ follower camp, I find Harold to be an object of pity and concern. That's because he's just done and said some things of which the God of the bible takes a very very dim view. False prophesies, regardless of intent, are not taken lightly. I never took Harold's prophecies seriously. However, I do take the bible seriously. Then admonitions and consequences aimed at false prophets are extreme. It's also true that God loves a repentant heart and I really hope that forgiveness is what Harold is asking for and receiving right now.
I have an opinion about this. I do think both camps have exhibited an unhealthy degree of arrogance regarding this non-event. To be clear, there's nothing wrong and in fact, everything right with stating facts and correcting error, again regardless of religious affiliation. Pointing and laughing however, seems to me to be at odds with the biblical idea that those who don't know Christ will identify those that do by their love. In fact, from what I've read and heard over the last few weeks, I'd have to say that a great proportion of Christ followers share much more with the non-Christ followers as regards their ability to ridicule, than they do with the church as described in the New Testament.
The world will one day end (you heard it here first...or at least most recently). It's also certain that your participation in it will end. Whether you hold God's participation in those facts tightly, loosely or not at all, I think we're all best served by not by pointing and laughing, but rather by sacrificing, holding and loving.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Learning to Swim
I've recounted Eric's story a few times. In this context it bears summarizing again. Eric was raised in a devout Catholic family. He entered the priesthood at an early age. He was a priest for more than a decade. He left the church (but never really God) for about 25 years. He married and adopted his wife's daughter...after his wife's little girl asked him to be her daddy. After retiring from being a software engineer (his non-church vocation), he and Ruth (his wife) moved to Maine to have a retirement adventure for a couple years. It was there late into that time, that he was diagnosed with ALS.
Eric subsequently cried out to God. God in turn sent a number of people to minister to Eric. Due to circumstance, most of them were Episcopal. Eric and Ruth moved back to the west coast a couple of years ago, settling in the Portland area. It had been there plan to eventually settle there in any case. And apparently, there is very fine ALS clinic in that town.
They attended (Ruth still attends) St. Luke's Episcopal church there. In not too long a time, the staff there asked him to join them as an ordained priest. He was ordained in early summer last year.
The disease finally took Eric's body this last February after a three year struggle with a virtually certain outcome. I previously posted here his final short homily, published in the St. Luke's bulletin the day before he passed. Below you'll find the first message that I am aware that he composed during this season. The date on my email is Feb 15 2010, so it was originally composed and delivered around that time.
I don't usually like to lead people too much (unless they happen to be immediate family members and can't escape) but in this case I'd like to point out some things. The subject here is the Transfiguration. I think this was a kind of completing that prepared the way for the next very harsh part of Christ's journey. Eric places the anniversary of his uncle's death in the context of the contribution his uncle made to Eric's life. He delivers this message on the advent of Lent. Lent is the season of sacrifice and selflessness.
There's so much more here that I will leave to you. Suffice it to say, there's a lot. Eric's life is the most profound example of redemption unto completion I've directly witnessed. It was all accomplished by Christ at Eric's invitation in the face of certain, painful death. It will forever be witness to me of the completing, fulfilling, eternal and loving work of the spirit of the living God.
Transfiguration Sermon
Opening Prayer
May you hear the Spirit in your heart as you listen to human words.
Sermon
Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of my Uncle Clyde. He was Fr. Clyde Werts, a Jesuit priest, and professor of engineering at Loyola University in Los Angeles. He was a frequent visitor when I was growing up. He loved to play with us kids. In summers, we would spend two weeks in Newport Beach and swim in Balboa Bay. He visited us there. As a little guy, I played in the bay where I could touch bottom or I wore a life jacket. It was fun to have Uncle Clyde playing in the water with us.
Then one day Uncle Clyde took on a new role. When I was about 6 or 7, he and I were in the bay, and he told me that he was going to teach me how to swim. I had no life jacket on and Uncle Clyde pulled me holding my hands out over my head. He held my hands while he had me kick. After a time of that he let go of my hands and took what was probably a very small step back from me. I thrashed with my arms and legs and screamed bloody murder. He probably did not leave me in that state for more than two or three seconds, and grabbed my hands again. We repeated this comedy many times. Finally, the thrashing became more efficient and the screams once heard round the world subsided. He then started taking two and three and four steps away from me, and I could swim to him. There came the time when he was not physically present, but he was present to me in the gift of swimming. I no longer needed a life jacket or to be able to touch bottom.
The Transfiguration is an event in which Jesus tells his disciples, and through Luke tells us, that it is time to discard our life jackets and venture beyond where we can touch bottom. It is time to learn to swim.
Up to now in Luke’s Gospel and in our Epiphany readings, Jesus has been gradually revealing who he is. He receives a heavenly endorsement as he humbly receives John’s baptism. He teaches, forgives sins, heals, conquers and saves others from evil. He calls disciples to follow him. He confronts false and hypocritical practice of God’s law. He is truly wonderful to be with. He is comfortable and reassuring. And He seems to be meeting his disciples’ expectations of the Messiah. But his disciples, and often we, don’t really get it.
So one day Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain. Through Luke, Jesus takes us also. Jesus starts praying and his face changes and his clothes become dazzling white. These symbols would mean a lot to the disciples and to Luke’s original readers. When Moses confronted God Moses’ face shone. Jesus, the more than wonderful human, is now powerfully revealing his divinity. This is necessary because of what is to follow.
I want to drive home to you the power of this revelation of divinity with 21st century symbols. A blog I read presented two videos. One starts on earth and moves away from the earth. When the sun comes into view the earth is a speck, and then no longer visible. Then the sun is a star among many stars. Then the sun disappears as the Milky Way, our galaxy, is shown. Then the Milky Way appears as just one small galaxy amid many galaxies. Finally, a scene from 100 million light years out shows a web of light that presents many clusters of galaxies. Our universe is stunningly vast, and how much more vast is its Creator.
The second video starts at the view from 100 million light years away and reverses the journey, back through the galaxies, past the stars in our galaxy, past the sun, and back to earth. Once on earth, a swampland appears, and soon we see one plant, and then one leaf. Then our view penetrates the leaf until we can see its subatomic particles. God is the craftsperson of our vast universe and the craftsperson of the subatomic particles that make it up.
This is the divinity that Jesus reveals, the magnificent God far beyond our comprehension, and at the same time the divine being who has chosen to be one of us.
Jesus is with Moses who represents the Old Testament Law and Elijah who represents the prophets. Moses and Elijah represent the world that the disciples know and are comfortable with. Then a cloud covers this scene, and a voice speaks. “This is my son, my chosen. Listen to him.” Listen to him. He is the divine word of God. Listen to him.
Note that Moses and Elijah are now gone from the scene. There is only Jesus. Listen to him.
Why is this point so important now? Before Jesus went up the mountain, he said he was going to suffer, die, and rise. He called on his followers to take up their crosses. When he was with Moses and Elijah, they discussed what he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. After he came down from the mountain, he said he was going to be betrayed into human hands, and he wanted the disciples to let the words sink into their ears. And Luke tells us that they did not understand and that they did not want to ask him. How often do we not listen, not understand, and not want to ask?
After the Transfiguration Jesus starts his journey to Jerusalem where he will suffer, die, and rise. Because it was hard for the disciples, and it is hard for us, to make sense of this, at this point we need to know the glory, the magnificence, the overwhelming mystery of divinity. It strikes me that when Jesus’ disciples responded negatively to predictions of suffering and death, the part they really did not hear was the glory of Resurrection.
This week we start Lent. The human Jesus has taught and shown us much. And in his Transfiguration he has given us a glimpse of his divinity. He asks us to join him in his journey to Jerusalem, in his journey to suffering and death and to glorious Resurrection.
We tend to think of Lent as a time when we give up something. Jesus is asking us to give up our life jackets and the safety of being able to touch bottom. He is asking us to plunge with Him into the waters of faith, hope, trust, and love. He is asking us to understand that God did not create this world the way we want. He is asking us to entrust our lives of sufferings, and deaths, and resurrections to Him.
I pray that as our Lenten prayer progresses, we are more and more able to travel our path with the human Jesus who chose to be one of us, and with the divine Jesus who promises us a share in his magnificence and glory.
As many of you know, I am terminally ill. Jesus is asking me to walk with Him through suffering and death, and join Him in the joy and glory and magnificence of His Resurrection. I want to testify to you that along my path there is also great joy here and now. The Risen Jesus walks with me. In addition, many of Jesus’ beloved walk with me, my beautiful wife, my family, friends, neighbors, and all of you.
This is the story of your Lent. This is the story of your lives, from birth through both joy and suffering to death and Resurrection.
Amen.
Eric subsequently cried out to God. God in turn sent a number of people to minister to Eric. Due to circumstance, most of them were Episcopal. Eric and Ruth moved back to the west coast a couple of years ago, settling in the Portland area. It had been there plan to eventually settle there in any case. And apparently, there is very fine ALS clinic in that town.
They attended (Ruth still attends) St. Luke's Episcopal church there. In not too long a time, the staff there asked him to join them as an ordained priest. He was ordained in early summer last year.
The disease finally took Eric's body this last February after a three year struggle with a virtually certain outcome. I previously posted here his final short homily, published in the St. Luke's bulletin the day before he passed. Below you'll find the first message that I am aware that he composed during this season. The date on my email is Feb 15 2010, so it was originally composed and delivered around that time.
I don't usually like to lead people too much (unless they happen to be immediate family members and can't escape) but in this case I'd like to point out some things. The subject here is the Transfiguration. I think this was a kind of completing that prepared the way for the next very harsh part of Christ's journey. Eric places the anniversary of his uncle's death in the context of the contribution his uncle made to Eric's life. He delivers this message on the advent of Lent. Lent is the season of sacrifice and selflessness.
There's so much more here that I will leave to you. Suffice it to say, there's a lot. Eric's life is the most profound example of redemption unto completion I've directly witnessed. It was all accomplished by Christ at Eric's invitation in the face of certain, painful death. It will forever be witness to me of the completing, fulfilling, eternal and loving work of the spirit of the living God.
Transfiguration Sermon
Opening Prayer
May you hear the Spirit in your heart as you listen to human words.
Sermon
Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of my Uncle Clyde. He was Fr. Clyde Werts, a Jesuit priest, and professor of engineering at Loyola University in Los Angeles. He was a frequent visitor when I was growing up. He loved to play with us kids. In summers, we would spend two weeks in Newport Beach and swim in Balboa Bay. He visited us there. As a little guy, I played in the bay where I could touch bottom or I wore a life jacket. It was fun to have Uncle Clyde playing in the water with us.
Then one day Uncle Clyde took on a new role. When I was about 6 or 7, he and I were in the bay, and he told me that he was going to teach me how to swim. I had no life jacket on and Uncle Clyde pulled me holding my hands out over my head. He held my hands while he had me kick. After a time of that he let go of my hands and took what was probably a very small step back from me. I thrashed with my arms and legs and screamed bloody murder. He probably did not leave me in that state for more than two or three seconds, and grabbed my hands again. We repeated this comedy many times. Finally, the thrashing became more efficient and the screams once heard round the world subsided. He then started taking two and three and four steps away from me, and I could swim to him. There came the time when he was not physically present, but he was present to me in the gift of swimming. I no longer needed a life jacket or to be able to touch bottom.
The Transfiguration is an event in which Jesus tells his disciples, and through Luke tells us, that it is time to discard our life jackets and venture beyond where we can touch bottom. It is time to learn to swim.
Up to now in Luke’s Gospel and in our Epiphany readings, Jesus has been gradually revealing who he is. He receives a heavenly endorsement as he humbly receives John’s baptism. He teaches, forgives sins, heals, conquers and saves others from evil. He calls disciples to follow him. He confronts false and hypocritical practice of God’s law. He is truly wonderful to be with. He is comfortable and reassuring. And He seems to be meeting his disciples’ expectations of the Messiah. But his disciples, and often we, don’t really get it.
So one day Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain. Through Luke, Jesus takes us also. Jesus starts praying and his face changes and his clothes become dazzling white. These symbols would mean a lot to the disciples and to Luke’s original readers. When Moses confronted God Moses’ face shone. Jesus, the more than wonderful human, is now powerfully revealing his divinity. This is necessary because of what is to follow.
I want to drive home to you the power of this revelation of divinity with 21st century symbols. A blog I read presented two videos. One starts on earth and moves away from the earth. When the sun comes into view the earth is a speck, and then no longer visible. Then the sun is a star among many stars. Then the sun disappears as the Milky Way, our galaxy, is shown. Then the Milky Way appears as just one small galaxy amid many galaxies. Finally, a scene from 100 million light years out shows a web of light that presents many clusters of galaxies. Our universe is stunningly vast, and how much more vast is its Creator.
The second video starts at the view from 100 million light years away and reverses the journey, back through the galaxies, past the stars in our galaxy, past the sun, and back to earth. Once on earth, a swampland appears, and soon we see one plant, and then one leaf. Then our view penetrates the leaf until we can see its subatomic particles. God is the craftsperson of our vast universe and the craftsperson of the subatomic particles that make it up.
This is the divinity that Jesus reveals, the magnificent God far beyond our comprehension, and at the same time the divine being who has chosen to be one of us.
Jesus is with Moses who represents the Old Testament Law and Elijah who represents the prophets. Moses and Elijah represent the world that the disciples know and are comfortable with. Then a cloud covers this scene, and a voice speaks. “This is my son, my chosen. Listen to him.” Listen to him. He is the divine word of God. Listen to him.
Note that Moses and Elijah are now gone from the scene. There is only Jesus. Listen to him.
Why is this point so important now? Before Jesus went up the mountain, he said he was going to suffer, die, and rise. He called on his followers to take up their crosses. When he was with Moses and Elijah, they discussed what he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. After he came down from the mountain, he said he was going to be betrayed into human hands, and he wanted the disciples to let the words sink into their ears. And Luke tells us that they did not understand and that they did not want to ask him. How often do we not listen, not understand, and not want to ask?
After the Transfiguration Jesus starts his journey to Jerusalem where he will suffer, die, and rise. Because it was hard for the disciples, and it is hard for us, to make sense of this, at this point we need to know the glory, the magnificence, the overwhelming mystery of divinity. It strikes me that when Jesus’ disciples responded negatively to predictions of suffering and death, the part they really did not hear was the glory of Resurrection.
This week we start Lent. The human Jesus has taught and shown us much. And in his Transfiguration he has given us a glimpse of his divinity. He asks us to join him in his journey to Jerusalem, in his journey to suffering and death and to glorious Resurrection.
We tend to think of Lent as a time when we give up something. Jesus is asking us to give up our life jackets and the safety of being able to touch bottom. He is asking us to plunge with Him into the waters of faith, hope, trust, and love. He is asking us to understand that God did not create this world the way we want. He is asking us to entrust our lives of sufferings, and deaths, and resurrections to Him.
I pray that as our Lenten prayer progresses, we are more and more able to travel our path with the human Jesus who chose to be one of us, and with the divine Jesus who promises us a share in his magnificence and glory.
As many of you know, I am terminally ill. Jesus is asking me to walk with Him through suffering and death, and join Him in the joy and glory and magnificence of His Resurrection. I want to testify to you that along my path there is also great joy here and now. The Risen Jesus walks with me. In addition, many of Jesus’ beloved walk with me, my beautiful wife, my family, friends, neighbors, and all of you.
This is the story of your Lent. This is the story of your lives, from birth through both joy and suffering to death and Resurrection.
Amen.
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