 |
"Poll Supports Taxing Rich for Overhaul," read the headline in my hometown paper on this story about health-care reform. "Americans Sour on Other Options for Meeting Costs," added the subhead.
In other words, same old, same old.
I have to wonder how many of the people who take the tax-the-rich line pause, even briefly, to ask themselves what gives them a claim on other people's money, and a pretty much limitless claim at that. Not many, I'm afraid. It's habitual by now.
But they should pause. And more to the point, we should. We, meaning Christians. We have it on good Authority that it's a sin to steal. Should we be quick to conclude it's not stealing if it's done by the state? Automatically? Should we blithely assume it's OK if the government is democratic? Might that not make it worse -- increasing the complicity, and the corruption, of the people?
Shouldn't we at least ask these questions?
Yes, I know: There are mitigating factors. Health care isn't a luxury, it's a necessity. (I really know: I've had major medical bills with no insurance.) But the issues remain, and we still need to wrestle with them. And we can't forget that the people always support making "the rich" pick up the tab. The spirit of the nation isn't "we're deeply sorry to take other people's money, but we're desperate." It's simply "We're entitled."
And yes, I know: Scripture has many warnings about attachment to wealth and many calls to care for others. But those words aren't just for the wealthiest of us: They're for all of us. When we feel we're entitled, we're not getting our spirits into harmony with God. We're only doing that when we're voluntarily giving, not forcibly taking.
I'm not entirely closed to ethical arguments for government programs of this sort, though I'm skeptical of them. The trouble is, few people seem to feel they even need to make those arguments. They just feel free to take the money.
So let's talk about this. A ground rule: Let's not talk about the details or the practicalities of health-care reform. We've done that a lot already on this site, and we may do it again, but it's not today's topic. Let's focus on the moral and spiritual issues raised above. There's plenty to chew on right there.
"If Jesus Christ were to come today, people would not even crucify him," wrote 19th-century author Thomas Carlyle. "They would ask him to dinner, and hear what he had to say, and make fun of it." Carlyle wasn't a Christian when he described that attitude, but he didn't think much of it regardless.
I thought of that quote when flipping channels today. The topic of the day was Sarah Palin, and her reported comments to a McCain aide last fall: Seems she was pressed by the aide to say she believed in evolution, and she refused to get on board. The TV host launched into jeering at her in a can-you-believe-she actually-thinks-that? sort of tone, and commenced to push his guests to either join him in the jeering or be jeered at themselves. You didn't have to be a Palin fan to find the treatment kinda repulsive. It was so high school.
I call that host's attitude strategic mockery. It's a kind of bullying we all recognize from childhood onward, and it doesn't go away when we enter the adult world: It just takes on new forms. It's a conscious intimidation tactic that substitutes embarrassment for argument: Come on, you're not one of them, are you?
Any Christian who takes his faith seriously can expect to run into this a lot: That's not news. So how do you deal with it?
I have a few personal rules: Don't resort to a "Christian" version of that attitude yourself; don't get mad; do be calm; do be good-humored. But let's hear what you do. Or perhaps what you try to do.
Whenever something explicit or vulgar shows up in public, and some people object, you can always count on other people to come back with one line: "If you don't like to see it, just don't look at it."
But, of course, it's not that simple. Because it's everywhere now. So much so that even jaded media types are taking note. And they're not loving what they're seeing.
Take today's Washington Post story on "second-hand porn" -- AKA "drive-by porn" -- which is getting worse now that everyone carries video screens in public. Reporter Monica Hesse can't contain her revulsion. A sample passage:
Those afflicted with secondhand porn say it's not that they oppose adult entertainment. The trouble was knowing that they couldn't escape it, not until the plane landed or the Metro doors opened.
That, and the general haze of gross that seemed to descend on the public space, the filmy yuckiness that made them wish the sprinkler system would spontaneously activate.
That, and the feeling that came with knowing exactly what was on their neighbor's mind.
"At some point," Hesse quotes an English professor/mother as saying, "we've completely lost the ability to tell when it's socially appropriate and when it's not."
How did we get here? Go back to that earlier line: "Those afflicted with secondhand porn say it's not that they oppose adult entertainment...."
Well, they should oppose it. (And without using euphemisms like "adult entertainment.") Because that's where the problem started -- with a collective refusal to be "judgmental" toward "private" behavior. Once a society abandons the very idea of binding moral standards, the rampant pollution of "private" vice inevitably gets into the public air, and it keeps building till we're all choking on it.
So let's start a clean-up operation. Yes, I know: It seems hopeless. So what? Do it anyway. There are a countless everyday ways to make a start. I once saw an obscene T-shirt in the window of a Spencer Gifts. I urged the clerk to get it out of the window. He did. This hardly took a herculean effort: It took two minutes.
That's just one example. Any other ideas?
It seems that the Halloween decorating has been amping up in my little corner of the world for the past couple of years. What used to be the occasional skeleton or haybale with pumpkins seems to have morphed into the Fall Battle of the Griswolds.
For the most part, I have no problem with it. I like the elaborate fall decorations with the scarecrows, dried corn and garlands of fall leaves. I don't really mind the giant spiders, witches who have crash landed in the front yards and giant inflatable vampire Mickeys (okay, that's not true, vampire Mickey gives me the willies).
But there is one particular Halloween decoration in my neighborhood that just gives me the creeps. I've had my eye out to see if it was going up again this year and, this morning, it did.
Picture this: A group of five ghosts. They're little and cute and adorable, being held up by sticks. All the ghosts are holding hands (via their little sheets being connected at the edges) so that they appear to be circling around a tree together.
I know. Not that horrifying, right? In fact, I've spent some time this morning wondering, just what it is about this house that gets to me? The best guess I can muster is that it's the cute superimposed upon the creepy. That these sweet little things seem to be participating in something pretty ugly--some type of nature worship ritual.
In the midst of the good things that Christians are trying to do with the Halloween holiday (like show hospitality, remain true to our convictions, host Fall Festivals for the community or celebrate "Reformation Day"), there are still aspects of Halloween that, rightly, cause us concern (like this or this or this).
Over at his blog, Randy Alcorn writes in "A Perspective on Halloween": "Yes, I am well aware this is a controversial issue. In my opinion, it is often either overstated or understated. And yes, on Halloween we do give out candy generously, and we enjoy the kids' costumes. For some Halloween is harmless. But there is another side to be aware of, which sucks in others."
I think that may be it. Other believers probably drive by this ghosts-around-the-tree scene without batting an eye. But something about this particular decoration reminds me, in a pretty vivid way, that as much as we may try to redeem or reform or repurpose this holiday, there is a dark side to it. Demons are real. Satan prowls and he would pull our worship away from our Lord in any way that he could.
As Alcorn put it, I don't want to overstate it or understate it. But those little ghosts this morning reminded me that it should at least be stated.
"Okay," our devotion leader said. "Can anybody name any sins that they saw committed or discussed in that clip?"
He had just shown us a 5-minute clip of a popular sitcom. It took about a milli-second before the answers started coming. Fornication. Homosexual Behavior. Coveting. Cruelty. For just 5 minutes, the writers had certainly packed a punch.
"Any more?" he asked.
A few more answers popped out, though slower now.
"Anything else?" he asked. "I'm looking for something in particular."
There was silence for a good minute until someone offered, "They took the Lord's name in vain pretty often."
"That's it," he smiled. "Seven times to be exact."
I thought of that devotion while watching an ABC Nightline segment from last night's show. Nightline is currently doing a series on the Ten Commandments and last night's segment, titled "OMG! I Just Broke a Commandment!", focused on the third commandment. (Text story is here.)
Particularly, it focused on the increasing use of "OMG!" by Americans, both in text and verbal form. "They're just three letters of the alphabet ..." the voiceover guy says at the beginning of the segment, "... but they deliver an awfully big idea."
The segment then goes on to show a montage of "OMG" use from sitcoms, "reality" TV shows and even as a category on the game show Jeopardy. I've even seen it as a category on my Yahoo! homepage.
"I think when people use it," said one teenage girl being interviewed, "it's more to, convey, 'That's so exciting!' or 'How cool!' and instead of saying that, they said 'OMG!' instead."
"Most teens don't think about it," said another, "they just say it."
But that "not thinking" about the significance of those letters could be the problem. When asked whether "OMG!" represented a vain use of the Lord's name, Bob Miller, an Old Testament expert at Catholic University, said: "I seriously do think it is a problem. I think that it shows a lack of belief that God is present or that there is any sort of reverence around what it is you're actually saying. I think the fact that it has become a casual thing that is thrown around in the language is just a symptom of that and that would never have happened in earlier centuries."
But isn't "OMG" just like all the other white-washed references to God's name that we've become accustomed to or that may even sound corny to us, Nightline asked? Golly, Gee, Jiminy Cricket (JC), Gadzooks, Jeepers, Oh Gosh. Are those taking the Lord's name in vain?
I've frequently said, "Oh, Criminy" and just now looked it up on Merriam-Webster. Great.
Th teenagers in the Nightline piece seemed to try to make that case: That "OMG!" simply is an exclamation of surprise, or amazement, or delight. That it has no religious significance.
But is that true? Or do they just not realize the religious significance that it has?
To that point, something really interesting happened at the end of the segment. Referring to "OMG," the Nightline interviewer asked the panel of teenagers, "Will those letters be different to you now, because we've talked about it so much?"
Almost all the teenagers nodded their heads and agreed that, yes, it would be different. "I think I'll be more conscious of it now," one girl said.
For me, I'm not so much concerned about where exactly the "vain" line is drawn. I just want to make sure that I'm nowhere close to it and that my language and my heart both exemplify a reverence for the Lord.
Maybe I'll just stick with Winnie the Pooh. "Oh, bother" should work just fine.
I find myself in another of those conversations about what philosophers and theologians call The Problem of Evil. Follow me for a moment as I tell you how I got into it.
It started last week, when I wrote a blog post about how God used the invention of ultrasound in ways the inventor couldn't have imagined. One reader (BAC) wrote to say this post was a timely inspiration at a crucial point in his/her life. I wrote back and said the timing was a great example of how God works in His own timing.
No controversy so far. We Christians talk this way all the time: It's as natural to us as breathing. But it sounds odd to non-Christian ears. Another reader (Jethro) asked: How do you know God was at work? And I said: Because God is always at work in the lives of His people. And he said:
Does that mean God is at work when a someone rapes a child or murders another human being? Is God at work when an abortion takes place?
I'm not being facetious, it's a genuine question.
I could give a short answer along these lines: Yes, God is at work. That doesn't mean God caused it, because it's a fallen world full of sinful human beings. It means He is there, working through it all, to bring consolation, forgiveness or both.
But a short answer won't do here: We're getting deeper into the problem of evil, and that's never a short conversation. It's also important enough that it calls for a fresh post so the rest of you can weigh in.
Boundless writers have talked about this subject a lot, but not for a while. So let's start by suggesting a few articles. Robert Rivera talks about it here. J. Budziszewski talks about it here and here and here.
Besides the question of evil itself, there's another question: Why do we ask? There's more than one possible motive, and we should examine ourselves to discover our own. Gary Thomas reminds us that God's not a defendant we can put on trial here. And J. Budziszewski considers how to talk to others about the issue here.
I'd like to hear not just your comments, but even more, your personal stories. Have you wrestled with why God allows evil in the world -- or in your own life? How have you come to terms with it -- if you've come to terms with it?
Well, I’m glad this weekend is over. That means we can go, oh, about five years if we’re lucky without having to hear about Woodstock again.
 In case you spent the past few days in a cave, you might not have known that every media outlet in the known universe just spent the week commemorating the 40th anniversary of the Woodstock music festival, née An Aquarian Exposition. (It didn’t even take place at Woodstock but on Max Yasgur’s farm in nearby Bethel, N.Y.)
Now I have nothing against the music of Woodstock. The first two albums I ever bought (yeah, the big black vinyl kind) were by Woodstock stalwarts Crosby, Stills & Nash; and The Band. I own the Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock DVD, and a good portion of my iPod holds music from Woodstock acts like CS&N, Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Who, Credence Clearwater Revival, Neil Young, and Sly and the Family Stone.
No, it was great music. I’m just sick of everyone talking as if those few days in Upstate New York were somehow the dawn of The New Man. It was nothing of the kind. A bunch of people got together and managed not to murder one another despite tremendous provocation—thunderstorms of epic proportion and the resulting sea of mud, no food, inadequate sanitary facilities, and tremendous crowding—and that’s something to celebrate, I guess. It could have been much worse. New York governor Nelson Rockefeller almost called out armed National Guard troops to handle the supposed uprising, and if he hadn’t been talked out of it we might remember Woodstock as we remember Kent State.
But a lot of the "magic" of Woodstock happened by sheer accident and because of the poor planning and incredible incompetence of the festival's organizers. Concert-goers and musicians alike were forced to make do, and people proved tremendously helpful and accommodating. For example, a local mom made hundreds of PB&J's and handed them out at the concert. It was never supposed to be a free love-in. It was very much a capitalist affair, with Wall Street investors bankrolling the concert, but the day before the concert was to begin they found they had only enough money to either finish the stage or erect a fence; the stage was the necessity, and the incomplete fence resulted in hundreds of thousands of people crashing the event. The musicians, altruists to a man, insisted on being paid in cash.
But for all the good music and good vibes that came out of those few days at Yasgur's Farm, a lot of tremendously bad things were popularized. First was the casual use of drugs. Yes, marijuana use had been on the rise for years, and three years earlier Timothy Leary had championed the use of LSD with his famous catchphrase, "Turn on, tune in, drop out."
But the image coming out of Woodstock of all the mellowed-out hippies dropping acid and smoking dope with no apparent ill effect opened the floodgates to making drug use seem cool even outside the counterculture, despite warnings even during the concert. Who can forget this announcement from the stage? "We're told that the brown acid is not specifically too good."
Another harmful effect of Woodstock was to insinuate an openness to New Age thought and Eastern religions into the wider culture. The Beatles had first plowed this row when they traveled to India and briefly bought into the flimflam being peddled by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, but with the exception of George Harrison, they soon saw through the baloney. Indeed, John Lenno'’s song "Sexy Sadie" was a bitter dig at the Maharishi's hypocrisy. Woodstock's "invocation" was given by Swami Satchidananda, and the entire hippie movement was strongly influenced by this mysticism. It was, after all, the Age of Aquarius. Unfortunately, a lot of their children had to pay the price.
Joni Mitchell's ethereal song "Woodstock" furthered the somewhat false image of that event. (She passed on an invitation to the festival, worried that it would interfere with her booking on "The Dick Cavett Show.") Her line, "We've got to get ourselves back to the Garden" made people think Woodstock was the norm, not the exception.
But the experience was never repeated, despite numerous attempts to do so. Four months later at the Altamont Rock Festivala man was stabbed to death mere feet from the stage as Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones sang "Under My Thumb." (Security at Woodstock was provided by hippies who called themselves the "Please" Force, while at Altamont is was provided by ... the Hell's Angels.) Woodstock '94 and '99 were known more for their general mayhem and $10 bottled water than music or lovingkindness. And don't forget that within a year both Joplin and Hendrix were both dead from drug overdoses.
After Woodstock the entire hippie counterculture was co-opted and mainstreamed by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, reaching its apotheosis of absurdity when Sammy Davis Junior, the ultimate Rat Packer, appeared on TV wearing a Nehru Jacket and love beads. It was only a short step from there to "The Brady Bunch."
I was a teenager that summer weekend in 1969 and only vaguely aware of the news coverage at the time. I found hippies slightly distasteful, although I couldn't articulate why. I suspect it's because I saw them as a bunch of immature and fatuous freeloaders, most of whom reeked to high heaven. I liked the music, though, and have ever since. But I'm too much of a realist (some might say cynic) to see that weekend as anything more than an aberration with really cool tunes.
So can we please stop talking about it?
My column today takes up a survey showing that most scientists don't believe in God. The question is why, and I suggest the answer lies not in science, but in attitudes and worldviews — a sense that belief in God isn't intellectually respectable. I also suggest we need to look into the spiritual aspects — the pride (I use the word "conceit") that very intelligent people can take in their own intelligence and their resistance to the idea that intellect is insufficient to explain the universe.
The first response came quickly. An e-mail asked what Boundless hoped to accomplish by printing this. The writer felt my piece fed a stereotype about the arrogance of scientists and intellectuals, and that it would just promote among our readers the same conceit and close-mindedness I'd complained about among many scientists.
I hope not. That's why I refuted the idea that religion and science "are inherently mortal enemies" in the first paragraph, and did so again near the end, though with a distinction. ("Religion isn't the enemy of science, but it is the enemy to scientists who have no sense of their own limits" — those who think science can explain everything.) That's why I talked about the forces besides conceit that could pull a scientist toward naturalism, and marveled that despite all that, many scientists (one in three) still do avow belief in God.
Did I do enough? You be the judge. What did I hope to accomplish? A couple of things.
First, I wanted to help Christians who suffer from intellectual intimidation. (You know: "If all the smart people think we're just products of evolution, who am I to challenge them?") It's important to realize that just because naturalists invoke the name of science, that doesn't mean their attitudes have been produced by pure science; their attitudes are shaped by forces outside science, and may have been absorbed long before they actually were scientists. Christians need to realize we're hearing from fellow sinful, fallible human beings, not from the collective embodiment of raw intelligence.
Second, I wanted to warn against the temptations that all of us (not just scientists) face when we develop a high regard for our own intelligence. I speak from experience. I grew up going to school with a lot of smart kids (professors' kids, many of them). I was a smart kid (sixth-grade spelling champ of Leal Elementary School, thank you very much, and you bet, I felt cocky about it). I know how it can go to your/my head. Hence, the column's conclusion: "The smarter the men the devil's tempting — or the smarter they think they are — the more raw material he has to work with. It's humility that gives him problems."
Our correspondent says he wishes I'd been clearer about that, helping readers understand that it's a danger we all face. I thought readers would take it that way, but maybe he's right. In any case, read the column for yourself. Did you find this a valuable piece? I'd love to hear your feedback.
As an individual living in a generally free society like the United States, have you ever thought about exactly what you deserve in terms of rights and privileges?
Are free speech and freedom of worship enough? Are public roads and police protection satisfactory?
Those things were enough for our forefathers, but if you're like many Americans today, you want -- expect -- more.
A whole lot more.
Whether you realize it or not, you've probably come to expect sufficient food and clothing, a roof over your head, maybe even government-funded health care. (None of which are actually guaranteed, at least not yet.)
And if you are Trina Thompson of the Bronx, you expect just a wee bit more.
You see, after Thompson spent $70,000 on college tuition, she expected New York's Monroe College to help get her a job, and to do so pretty darn quick. How quick? Well, when Thompson was still unemployed nearly three months after graduation, she decided that it was time to sue the school for failing to fulfill her employment expectations.
That's right. Thompson is suing Monroe College for $72,000. That's $70,000 for the cost of tuition, with another $2,000 for the stress of not landing a job.
Never mind that Thompson's academic credentials (2.7 GPA) weren't exactly top-notch. Never mind that the school's job placement office gave Thompson equal access to its e-recruiting Web site, through which she was able to contact potential employers. And never mind that the U.S. economy is in a recession, or that thousands of other college graduates have remained unemployed for far, far longer than Thompson.
According to Thompson's legal complaint, those reasons simply don't cut it:
The office of career advancement information technology counselor did not make sure their Monroe e-recruiting clients call their graduates that recently finished college for an interview to get a job placement. They have not tried hard enough to help me.
Forgive me if I'm not understanding, but it sounds like she not only expected these clients to notice that she had just graduated, but to actually contact her directly and request an interview. (And for all these years I thought it was the job-seeker's role to go after an interview!)
Even if you were less-than-pleased with your college experience, have you ever considered asking (suing) for your money back? And did you ever consider giving up after a mere three months in the job market?
Is this where our American sense of entitlement has taken us?
(HT: Alex Chediak)
Have you ever heard of Zac Sunderland? You will now. That's because this morning Zac became the youngest person in history to sail around the world alone. The LA Times reports:
Zac Sunderland, who left Marina del Rey 13 months ago with a bold ambition to become the youngest person to sail around the world alone, returned to complete that quest today at 10:30 a.m.
Sunderland, 17, who was greeted offshore and escorted in by an armada of well-wishers aboard dozens of sailboats and fancy yachts, cleared the breakwater beneath a clearing sky and stepped ashore at Fisherman's Village in bright sunshine.
There, hundreds had gathered to meet a teenager from Thousand Oaks who, many are saying, "left as a boy and came back a man."
According to the Zac Sunderland official website:
A year and a half ago, he had a dream to sail around the world. It would have been easy to dismiss such a far fetched fantasy, but Zac took his own money, earned like most kids from summer jobs, and bought a 36 foot sailboat. He named his boat Intrepid. His parents had hoped he would find something that would create a fire in him, a passion that would direct him away from all the negative and harmful influences that are so prevalent in our society, but even they were stunned by the scope of his dreams and desires.
It's no coincidence that Zac, who was 16 when he began his voyage, was able to accomplish such a feat. He had logged more than 15,000 hours (that nearly two years worth of hours) sailing before he undertook this challenge. His dedication to a long term goal stands in stark contrast to that of many of his peers, who twitter and text in an instant gratification world.
In their article "Becoming Men: Feats of our Forefathers," Alex and Brett Harris note how a propensity to take on big challenge at a young age has historically been indicative of impact later in adulthood:
It is no coincidence that the same Samuel Adams who organized the Boston Tea Party at age 51 wrote his master's thesis in defense of the people's liberties at age 21.
It is no coincidence that David Farragut, who became the U.S. Navy's first Admiral at age 65, was given command of his first ship at age 12.
It is no coincidence that Alexander Hamilton, who became our nation's first Secretary of the Treasury at age 34, was a clerk in a counting house at age 13.
We can learn a lot from our forefathers. They lived in a time very different from our own, but their example couldn't be more relevant. In a world that is looking to our generation for direction and leadership and finding a bunch of kidults, the commitment to do hard things as young adults is a much-needed revolution.
And indeed, Zac, a home school student and Christian, identifies himself as part of Alex and Brett's "Do Hard Things" generation. Today, at 10:30 a.m., his sacrifice and fortitude paid off. Zac Sunderland has done something no one his age has ever done. Who knows what he could do by age 65?
It was a hot, sunny day. School was out for summer, but while other children played and frolicked, my lot was a cruel one. We lived on one acre and most of what wasn't house was lawn. And as a direct result of Original Sin, dandelions, with their long taproots, had invaded that vast lawn. It was my fate to spend the morning, weeding fork in hand, removing them.
Every child begins life fond of dandelions. On that day, my fondness came to an abrupt end.
So begins yesterday's featured Boundless article, "Giving Thanks Amid the Dandelions," by Jim Tonkowich.
Over the course of the next 1,183 words, pulling from Chesterton and Heidegger, Tonkowich struggles to regain a child-like affection for this yellow weed. The journey is a fascinating, if not circuitous, one; here are a few more excerpts:
What a surprise that there should be dandelions and that there should be a me who, through no effort or merit of my own, happens to be here to see those dandelions. The only reasonable response is gratitude.
Summing up, Chesterton wrote that this is "the chief idea of my life.... That is the idea of taking things with gratitude, and not taking things for granted." And it was this chief idea that led Chesterton into the Christian faith, for gratitude is looking for someone to thank.
Tonkowich explains that presumption and despair always prevent gratitude. Boredom and the demand for entertainment are signs of despair. Presumption, what we often call entitlement, breeds a cultural mood of discontent that strangles gratitude in the cradle.
As I read the ensuing paragraphs, I felt the same ache, the same pain of loss that I felt when I first read George Halitzka's "Helicopter Seeds." Here's how Halitzka wrapped his thoughts:
Some 21 years have passed since I discovered the Helicopter Seeds, and now I'm much older, wiser ... harder. I stand on the edge of a hill above a grove of springtime maples, whose tiny seed packages still spin to the ground. I watch the precious cargos gently find the ground; whirl in an ecstatic dance of new life.
Most of the seeds fall in vain, the same as 21 years before; on rocks and weedy patches they will wither into nothingness. My hardened mind, which cares too much to care, wants to believe that a few of these seeds will live to canopy the forest floor and one day drop their own helicopters. But the odds are against a single one outlasting the snow.
So I watch them spin through the air in moments of glory that last only seconds. I imagine a few taking root against the odds, growing against all hope -- and finally dying.
But I find that I cannot focus on the cold mechanisms of biology. I almost start to cry, not because so many seeds will fail in vain ... but because in this moment the Helicopter Seeds are so, so beautiful.
Perhaps it doesn't matter that so many will never grow. Perhaps it is enough to see them fulfill a divine purpose. Perhaps the beauty is enough to make this breathless moment is its own reward. I even dare to imagine that maybe the seeds fall so I, and the God who made them, can be lost in childlike wonder again.
Or perhaps ... they fall for nothing. But as I reluctantly turn from the edge of beauty and walk towards my car, I try not to believe that.
So how does Tonkowich's article conclude? What might we make of the lowly dandelion, wonderflower of youth and nuisance of adulthood? There's but one way to find out.
All I wanted was a parking space.
It was Saturday afternoon, and I was driving home with two hungry kids. Despite my status as a thoroughly modern and enlightened father, I knew there was little chance of me preparing a healthy, balanced dinner for the three of us before we all fainted from starvation, so I naturally began the time-honored hunt for a quick meal that wouldn't deplete my retirement account.
I pulled in to the parking lot of the nearest strip mall, settled on a dining establishment we could all agree on, and quickly discovered that there wasn't an empty parking space within 200 feet of the entrance. Actually, there was one available space, but it wasn't fully available. You see, what we encountered that day was a case of, well, I can't use the popular term on a family friendly blog, but you've all seen it before: Someone who thinks their car is so nice, so new, so ... special ... that they deem it worthy of occupying not one but two parking spaces.
As I circled the lot one more time just to see if another spot opened up, another option came to me. Though the inconsiderate driver in question had obviously meant to occupy multiple parking spaces, I noticed that he or she was a bit lacking in execution. The driver had left just enough room on one side for me to squeeze in my modest sedan.
Sensing that it was my duty, my mission, to teach this lout a lesson in inconsideration, I carefully navigated my car into the available area, with barely enough room for us to actually exit our vehicle.
Needless to say, this did not go over well with all my passengers. My nine-year-old daughter was able to slither out easily enough, so she was fairly oblivious to the vital message being conveyed. Yet my oldest son, the one barely out of elementary school, knew exactly what was going on.
"Dad, what are you doing? Don't do this!"
I calmly explained through clenched teeth that people who intentionally occupy multiple parking spaces are akin to criminals and need to be shown the error of their ways. I'd had enough, and I wasn't going to take it anymore.
But my son knew better. Whether he was afraid of the offending car's owner or some other threat yet unseen, or whether he just thought I'd gone temporarily insane, I don't know, but he continued his protestations all the way to the door of the restaurant. Since he was just as hungry as the rest of us, I could tell that he felt very strongly. I could also hear the distress in his voice.
"Dad, no, please don't!"
"But I'm teaching them a lesson," I explained. "People just can't do this!"
My son was now almost in tears.
"But Dad, God can take care of him!"
Please forgive the cliche, but his words hit me like a ton of bricks. It was my turn to hold back tears, as I came to a sudden halt in the parking lot. I looked at this boy who rarely reads his Bible without prompting and who would rather sleep in rather than get up for church most Sundays, and I knew that God was speaking through him.
How many times had I taught my kids that revenge wasn't up to them, that they should resist the urge to tattle on their classmates and siblings, that God would make things right in the end? And now my son had shamed me with my own words, basically citing Romans 12:19-21 without even knowing it:
"Do not take revenge my friends ... for it is written: 'It is mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord. On the contrary: 'If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
I walked back to our car, slowly opened the doors to make sure we didn't scratch the vehicle next to us, and drove away. When I had calmed down sufficiently, after my seemingly righteous indignation had evaporated like so much hot air, I looked my son in the eye.
"You were right," I said. "God can take care of him."
One guess who really learned the lesson that day.
I was checking my e-mail earlier, attempting to ignore the ads that popped up on the right side of my inbox. Then an ad popped up which I couldn't ignore. It was a tummy. Or two tummies, to be exact. One was, I'm sure you guessed, rock hard, toned and tan. The other was ... not. But, evidently, it was not enough for these marketers to do the simple side-by-side comparison of tone tummy to flubby tummy. No, these guys decided to animate. So, not only was the second tummy as big and as celluritic as they could make it, it was also flubbering at me.
Nice. Almost without thinking, my hand went to my own tummy. I gave the ad the evil eye and went on my e-mail checking way, only to realize that through the course of about 10 minutes I also got to see a wrinkle ad that transformed a leather-faced woman into an alabaster beauty and some miracle cure that turned yellow teeth gleaming white.
Now, I know that previous generations of women have struggled with their own body images. I've seen clips of those weird contraptions that 1940s and 1950s women used to get a flatter stomach. But, really, you have to think that there's something original about our generation. I mean, at least my grandma didn't have to see the flubbering tummy while opening up her mail. It seems that wherever I look, I get two messages. First, that beautiful is important. Second, that I'm just not beautiful enough. But, most of the time, it's okay. I know they're trying to sell me something.
What I struggle with more than the ads, truthfully, is in trying to figure out how exactly a pursuit of physical beauty fits (if it fits at all) with a pursuit of righteousness. As a believer, should I strive to be physically beautiful? God's Word tells me that it's inner beauty that matters to God. So, should I not care about physical beauty? Or is it okay to do certain things (like eat healthy and exercise) but not others (like make-up or tanning or liposuction)? Is there a line? And, if so, where is it?
Seems like others are dealing with these questions too. Mary Kassian wrote recently that the problem is "not that we pursue beauty too much, but that we don't pursue it nearly enough." (What does she mean? Read it here.) Carolyn McCulley writes to encourage us to notice, and appreciate, those women who are "Doing Beautiful." And, as for me, I wrote an article for Boundless a couple of weeks ago called "Balancing Beauty" where I tried to work out the answers to my own questions.
"I want so much to get this beauty thing right, to see it through God's eyes. To be aware of Satan's lies that my whole worth is in my outer beauty or, even conversely, that how I present myself makes absolutely no difference. But there is no magic formula. As with most subjects, God doesn't give us a rule, He gives us a priority: Him."
Do you remember the famous photograph of the baby reaching out of the womb and grasping the doctor's finger? That baby is now 9-year-old Samuel Armas. The photo has been spread around the world and even cited during congressional debates on the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act, but for Samuel it has personal significance. According to Fox News: "When I see that picture, the first thing I think of is how special and lucky I am to have God use me that way," Samuel told FOXNews.com. "I feel very thankful that I was in that picture." On Aug. 19, 1999, photographer Michael Clancy shot the "Fetal Hand Grasp" — his picture of a 21-week-old fetus grasping a doctor's finger during innovative surgery to correct spina bifida. Nearly four months later, on Dec. 2, Samuel Armas was "born famous."
The photo sparked controversy when the photographer claimed he saw the baby reach out and grab the doctor's finger, while the doctor claimed the baby was too anesthetized to do so. "I don't care, honestly," Julie Armas [Samuel's mother] said. "What I felt the picture showed is that this is a child engaging in some form of interaction. I'm a labor and delivery nurse, so I understand that Samuel was anesthetized to some degree. "So if he reached out, I don't know. If Dr. Bruner reached out, I don't know. The fact of the matter is it's a child with a hand, with a life, and that's meaningful enough."
And Samuel is glad to be the "poster child" for life: Samuel, now 9 and living in Villa Rica, Ga., said the photo likely gave countless "babies their right to live" and forced many others to debate their beliefs on abortion, something he's proud of. "It's very important to me," Samuel said of the photograph. "A lot of babies would've lost their lives if that didn't happen."
Kids like Samuel and Lia encourage me. Children seem to step up instantly to defend other children. They don't even question it. We can learn something from them.
Are you trying to make a decision right now -- about a job, a move, a purchase, a relationship? In that decision, are you worried about what you'll have to give up when you choose one thing over another? It can feel painful, but making a good decision means being willing to cut off the next best options and leave them behind. In fact, according to a recent blog post by our friend Scott Stanley, that's what deciding is all about:
The word “decide” comes from a French word dating to the 1300s that literally means “to cut” or “to cut off.” Deciding is about coming to a point where something is cut off from something else. A part is chosen—hopefully the best part—and the illusion of hanging on to the whole, to everything, is given up.
It's this perspective of deciding that makes the idea of commitment counter cultural in Dr. Stanley's research:
The cultural messages we are inundated with encourage us to hang onto everything—to cut off no options, to have it all. Having a lot of options in life is great, but maybe not so great if one never decides what matters most.
Where could this insight apply in the decisions you need to make?
When it comes to relationships, career development, where you live and other big decisions, do you feel like you're making good decisions? Is there a chance that instead, you're just sliding into situations and getting stuck with decisions that you never really intentionally made? Dr. Scott Stanley, a researcher at the University of Denver, has been raising some great questions about this issue. We love Dr. Stanley and have featured him on Boundless a couple of times.
I was glad to see that Dr. Stanley has now launched a blog to focus specifically on the difference between making active decisions and drifting into not-so-good decisions. Here's how he describes his new blog:
Sliding vs. Deciding is a concept based in the research that I and colleagues have conducted on relationships. It contrasts how things often happen with how things could be. The core idea is that people often are sliding through important transitions in relationships--or moments in life--rather than deciding. Commitments that enrich our lives, that we are most likely to follow through on, are based in decisions. While we don't have to make decisions about everything, we do best when we make decisions about the most important things in life.
The first post gives you a sense of Dr. Stanley's dry humor--something we've always loved about him:
A big part of being a decider when it comes to important things in life is sticking to what you have decided. That’s part of what commitment is all about. Unless you’ve only been alive for, say, 15 minutes or so, you know it’s not always easy to stick to what you decided you wanted to do. I recently came across a recent report that summarizes some amazing research on willpower and the ability to resist temptation. ...
The author, Eric Wargo, first mentions pretty cool studies that were done long ago where they tested children to see how many would choose to wait a little while to get two marshmallows instead of getting one marshmallow RIGHT NOW! Kind of like a lot of life, right? You could ask yourself, “am I a one or two marshmallow kind of person?” Quite an existential question, isn’t it? For some reason, I’m hearing a variation of this question with Clint Eastwood’s voice from the movie “Dirty Harry.” Sort of goes like this: “You must be asking yourself if you really have a shot at two marshmallows or just one. Do you feel lucky? Well do ya, punk?” Perhaps I have some marshmallow trauma to work through.
The one or two marshmallows idea is tied to the issue of forgoing short-term gratifications that might undermine long-term gratification. It's something I've encountered when doing things like eating a bag of chips while impatiently waiting for a gourmet meal to be ready (but you know how hard it is to eat just one), or when I've spent money on little five and ten dollar items that wiped out funds I intended to save for a big-ticket item, or even some of the recreational dating I did in my early twenties to keep from being lonely on a Saturday night that in turn made me--and some of the girls I went out with--feeling more lonely when we were ready to find a good spouse.
As a result I found myself at various times sliding into problems like extra weight, a bad bank balance, and even a broken wedding engagement that were far afield from the good decisions I intended to make. On the other hand, the things I've enjoyed most in life--my relationship with Candice and our kids, my work, book writing, quiet time with God and more--have all grown out of forgoing short-term gratification and actively deciding to hold out for something better instead of sliding alongside the whims of my sin nature.
So are you a one or two marshmallow kind of person and how's that affecting your ability to make and keep good decisions?
Ok, so I made that up. Today is really Darwin Day, a day commemorating the birth of Charles Darwin on February 12, 1809. But don't worry, it's not a public holiday ... yet.
In case you haven't noticed, evolution is becoming quite popular. Even confessing Christians are jumping on the bandwagon. It's not surprising really. Just look at the controversial Clergy Letter Project which began in 2004. As of today, almost 12,000 confessing Christian clergy in the U.S. have signed the "Open Letter Concerning Religion and Science." It begins,
While virtually all Christians take the Bible seriously and hold it to be authoritative in matters of faith and practice, the overwhelming majority do not read the Bible literally, as they would a science textbook. Many of the beloved stories found in the Bible – the Creation, Adam and Eve, Noah and the ark – convey timeless truths about God, human beings, and the proper relationship between Creator and creation expressed in the only form capable of transmitting these truths from generation to generation. Religious truth is of a different order from scientific truth. Its purpose is not to convey scientific information but to transform hearts.
What a contrast to today's Boundless article from Dr. Jonathan Sarfati, "Lousy Creationist Arguments." Instead of separating religious truth from scientific -- as Bible illiteralists -- Dr. Sarfati unapologetically offers his framework for all considerations ... Scripture.
The authority of the Bible is the main emphasis of Creation Ministries International. We don't try to "prove" the Bible with science; rather, we accept the Bible's propositions as true without proof, i.e. as axioms or presuppositions.
All philosophical systems, not just Christianity, start with axioms. There are good reasons for accepting the axioms of Scripture as true, because it can be shown that they lead to a consistent view of physical and moral reality, which other axioms can't provide.
Genesis contains a number of Hebrew grammatical features that show it was intended to teach a straightforward history of the world from its creation. Genesis, backed up by the rest of Scripture, unambiguously teaches that:
- The heavens, Earth and everything in them were created in six consecutive normal days, the same as those of our working week (Exodus 20:8-11).
- Earth is about 6,000 years old, since Jesus said mankind was there from the "beginning of creation," not billions of years later (Mark 10:6).
- Adam sinned and brought physical death to mankind (Romans 5:12-19; 1 Corinthians 15:21-22).
- Since man was the federal head of creation, the whole creation was cursed (Romans 8:20-22), which included death to animals, with the end of the original vegetarian diet for both humans and animals (Genesis 1:29-30).
- God judged the world by a globe-covering Flood, which Jesus and Peter compared with the coming Judgment (Luke 17:26-27; 2 Peter 3:3-7). This destroyed all land vertebrate animals and people not on the ocean-liner-sized Ark.
- God then judged the people by confusing their language at Babel — after they had refused to spread out and repopulate the Earth after the Flood.
It's important to realize that all "facts" of science do not speak for themselves, but are interpreted within a framework.
Evolutionists start with the axiom of naturalism or materialism, i.e. God (if He even exists) performed no miraculous acts of creation.
Biblical creationists interpret the same facts and observations, but within the framework outlined above.
So before you break out your ape suit and throw a primordial soup dinner party, consider which framework you choose to interpret facts and observations, Scripture or the one used by The Clergy Letter signees.
 Feb. 12 is "Darwin Day," the 200th anniversary of Charles Darwin's birthday. It seemed the perfect time to roll out a four-part series exploring the theory of evolution, contrasting it with the biblical account of creation.
Last week we published "Now a Creationist" (we blogged about it as well), a confessional of sorts from a scientist with a Ph.D. in Chemistry who came to reject evolution in favor of biblical creation.
Today we published another conversation-starting article by Dr. Jonathan Sarfati. "What is Evolution?" explains that the General Theory of Evolution (GTE) isn't merely about change, but the direction of that change:
The main scientific objection to the GTE is not that changes occur through time, and neither is it about the size of the change (so we would discourage use of the terms micro- and macro-evolution). The key issue is the type of change required -- to change microbes into men requires changes that increase the genetic information content.
Indeed, biblical creation proposes that creatures have experienced genetic change through the millennia. The species are not "fixed," as some evolutionists mischaracterize creationists as saying.
In the blog about the first article in this series, we had some great questions and some great discussion. I look forward to more of the same here.
In the daily "Ask Amy" column, there's been quite a debate going on for the last few weeks. The conundrum: What to do when some at the table wish to give thanks to the Lord before eating and others at the table are atheists.
Some readers think that the host should determine what is done ... or not. Thus, Christians would pray in their own homes while atheists sat respectfully. Atheists would not worry about anyone's religious affiliation when hosting in their own homes.
Others thought the opposite--that the hosts should act however their guests act. Christians would not pray when atheists were guests and atheists would sit quietly while Christian guests said their prayer.
Amy's advice went beyond the host/guest debate. She felt that faith traditions should always be respected by others, whether hosts or guests.
But, Wednesday, Ask Amy published a letter from "Atheists in Alaska" who offered this solution:
"We are an atheist family, but having grown up with a prayer before each meal, I started to miss the ritual, especially since we had kids. It felt as if there was something missing, and I wanted to commence the meal with something, so now we do 'thankfuls.' Everyone (including children) states something for which they are thankful. This custom is very well received and enjoyed by all types of guests, and seems to satisfy the need to begin a meal giving 'thanks.'"
Everyone states something for which they are thankful? Thankful ... to whom?
 I didn't always believe the Scriptural account of how "all this" came about.
I used to believe that the variety of life emerged through time from some fantastic event that took place millions of years ago in a clump of pond scum. Later, I came to believe that God had a hand in this, that He guided that process.
Then one day I heard a convincing explanation that seemed consistent with both Scripture and the scientific evidence. After further researching biblical creation, I came to see it as true. My thoughts about it have refined over the years, but I'm more firm than ever that the Bible is true when it lays out how the Creator brought about "all this."
On Friday we published an article on Boundless Webzine from someone who had a similar story. The evidence he came across left him with no choice but to believe that the Scriptural portrayal of creation is true.
In "Now a Creationist," Jonathan Sarfati, Ph.D. brings up some of the issues that made him change his mind about the theory of evolution: missing links, real chemistry vs. chemical evolution, information theory, the "mere change" bait-and-switch, rock layers, evolution's incompatibility with Scripture, and the problem of sin and death.
There's a lot to think about. I had never considered "paraconformities," for example, or "condensation polymerization." Big words, but fairly simple concepts.
Dr. Sarfati references two blog posts I've written, "A Theory of Creation" and "Jesus Was Not A Theistic Evolutionist." If you've got real questions about the competing theories, I challenge you to read not only Sarfati's article and my two blog posts, but the numerous references embedded in each one.
When I first heard about biblical creation, I was intrigued. Could what I had believed for so long not be accurate? I wondered. But as I came to see biblical creation as true, my faith in the power and wisdom of the Creator and the veracity of Scripture has grown.
Is there a constitutional amendment so sacrosanct that it can abide no exceptions? Perhaps the First Amendment? Nope. Courts have placed reasonable restrictions on free speech and the practice of religion. (You can’t libel someone, nor can you sacrifice live animals.) Second Amendment? No again, as any number of gun laws attest.
One can find reasonable exceptions to just about every right granted in the Constitution. But 36 years ago, trawling through the penumbras and emanations of the Constitution, Justice Harry Blackmun found an inviolable right that had somehow escaped our Founding Fathers: the right to kill a child in utero—or mere inches from being fully born, for that matter—for any reason or no reason. Read the Roe v. Wade decision sometime; you’ll see it’s a conclusion in search of reasons, an exercise of “raw judicial power,” in the words of dissenting Justice Byron White.
The legacy of that decision, Roe v. Wade, and its lesser-known companion case, Doe v. Bolton, is a 36-year flight from reason and a political system distorted beyond recognition by the contortions it takes to accommodate such a horrendous “right.”
Chuck Colson wrote, “The right to an abortion has proven to be a jealous god. In exchange for sexual freedom, it demands everything else: cherished ideals, right priorities, the First Amendment, and even decency. It insists that nothing be spared in its defense.”
This state of affairs is not surprising, considering both cases were based on lies. Norma McCorvey, the “Jane Roe” of Roe v. Wade, lied to her lawyers about being raped. But she at least was pregnant and seeking an abortion. Sandra Cano, the “Mary Doe” of Doe v. Bolton, wasn’t even pregnant. She was a homeless mother seeking a divorce and custody of her children. Her legal-aid attorney, recognizing a poorly educated sucker when she saw one, filed the case under false pretenses.
Those weren’t the only lies. One of the rationales cited in Roe was the supposed number of women dying from illegal abortions—allegedly in the tens of thousands. But Bernard Nathanson, founder of the National Abortion Rights Action League, later said the numbers were simply made up. During the debate over partial-birth abortion a few years ago, the pro-abortion side claimed the procedure was rare—as if even one case of puncturing the skull of an infant and sucking out its brains would be acceptable. (Imagine the outcry from the folks at PETA if someone were to do that to, say, a rat.) But Ron Fitzsimmons of the National Association of Abortion Providers later admitted, “We lied through our teeth.” The gruesome procedure was performed more than a thousand times a year, sometimes for a “birth defect” as minor as a cleft palate.
Here in Colorado we’re victims of this monomania. The U.S. Supreme Court, in Hill v. Colorado, upheld a “bubble law” that forbids any person within 100 feet of a “health-care facility” to come within 8 feet of another person to hand out leaflets. They may not display a sign or “engage in oral protest, education, or counseling with that person.”
Justice John Paul Stevens disingenuously said the law is “content-neutral.” It regulates, not speech, he wrote, but merely certain places “where some speech may occur.” This is the same Justice Stevens who thundered in an Erie, Pa., case that the city had “totally silenced a message the dancers at [the strip club] want to convey"—by regulating the location of strip clubs.
Make no mistake: there is only one kind of “health-care facility” Hill v. Colorado was written to protect. Do you honestly think someone protesting against amalgam fillings outside a dentist’s office—yes, there are people who think they’re dangerous—would be hauled in under this law? Moreover, imagine if such a statute substituted “place of business” for “health-care facility.” The unions would go berserk, and rightly so.
Justice Antonin Scalia, in his dissent in Hill, called the court an “ad hoc nullification machine that pushes aside whatever doctrines of constitutional law stand in the way of that highly favored practice” of abortion.
That court decision 36 years ago has led to many distortions in our law and society:
- The FDA approved the abortifacient drug RU-486 under less-stringent testing intended for medicines that, according to FDA rules, are meant to treat “serious or life-threatening conditions"—something pregnancy most assuredly is not.
- Several investigations have shown that abortion clinics violate mandatory reporting of suspected statutory rape by hiding pregnancies allegedly caused on teenage girls by adult men.
- The efforts to preserve this "right" have turned bork into a verb, named after the vicious smear campaigns used against Supreme Court nominees such as Robert Bork and Clarence Thomas, all in an effort to protect a Supreme Court ruling that might not stand up to democratic scrutiny. Live by the Court, die by the Court.
With the present administration and Congress, we’re guaranteed at least another four years of this insanity. Set aside for the moment the tens of millions of babies who have been denied the right to life guaranteed in our Constitution. Consider simply what this poorly reasoned and extra-constitutional decision has done to our society. If that’s not enough to make you weep, I don’t know what is.
An e-mail I received this morning begins, "It kind of disgusts me that the evangelical core seems to naturally question global warming." Another simply reiterated points from Al Gore's error-filled film, "An Inconvenient Truth." Another dismisses the article because it wasn't written by a "scientist."
These are some of the e-mails we've received in reaction to today's featured Boundless article, "Question Global Warming."
The thing is, none of them address the point of the article: to encourage us to thoughtfully evaluate this issue, rather than simply repeat what the cool people are saying about it.
Author Jay Richards begins his article affirming our responsibility to care for the earth:
Most thoughtful Christians these days have spent time considering how to be good stewards of the environment. After all, even if environmentalism weren't so fashionable, Christians have a solid biblical motivation to be good stewards of the environment.
He then goes on to challenge us how to evaluate the competing ideas behind climate change:
To think clearly about this issue, we have to tease apart this bundle of claims and consider each one. For each claim, there is a corresponding question we need to answer. And it's only after answering these questions that we can be in a position to determine what, if anything, we ought to do about global warming.
He then provides four central questions that we might ask.
I expect some comments will dismiss this article as anti-science, as pro-pollution, as the kind of mindlessness expected from Boundless. I expect some to agree with the first letter above, that it's disgusting to question what we've been told; for others to follow the pattern of the second letter above by copy-pasting the global warming alarmists' talking points; for others to file ad hominem complaints against the author, not even considering what he's said because none of his degrees (Ph.D., Th.M., M.Div.) is in a field of science. (They, of course, will see their opinions as valid, though they're less credentialled than the author.)
But I hope that you will mull over the four questions posed in that article: Is the earth indeed warming, are we at fault, is it necessarily bad, and would the "solutions" actually solve anything?
If you'd like to become more informed about "the other side" of the global warming argument, consider reading through some of the following:
At the very least, these resources should lead us to be less confident that we're causing the earth to heat up to dangerous levels, and that we must consequently raise taxes and hinder personal liberty to rein things in.
So another new year is upon us, and pundits and prognosticators near and far are making their predictions for what's to come in 2009. And they'll almost certainly be wrong.
A mere six months ago, wise men were telling us to expect oil to hit $200 a barrel, and drivers could expect to pay $8 a gallon or more for gasoline. (Yes, I know our overseas friends probably laugh at our panic at having to pay that much.) Yet just yesterday oil dropped to $37 a barrel, and I topped off my car for $1.39 a gallon. Not even adjusting for inflation, that's less than a gallon of gas cost in 1979.
And what about those sure-thing predictions that the 2008 presidential contest would come down to Rudy Giuliani and Hillary Clinton? Or that the Dow would top 15,000? Wrong, wrong, and wrong—waaay wrong on that last one.
Many such predictions fail because of our human tendency to think in static terms. We think things will remain basically the same. But even as we try to reason through some possible causes and effects, we fail to account for all the factors in the equation, even if they're available to us. (Credit-market meltdown, anyone?) More unpredictable are the random X factors that change the equation completely. (Cue speech about chaos theory by Jeff Goldblum character in Jurassic Park.)
All this to say that at this turn of a new year I recommend you check out two books that I've recently enjoyed, Follies of Science and Yesterday’s Tomorrows. They're chock full of past imaginings of how the future world would look. For example, by 1980 we were all supposed to be flying around in personal, nuclear-powered helicopters. I guess I failed to sign up for mine.
My favorite is the bold imaginings of our future cities that look remarkably like old cities with only a few imagined "improvements" such as movable walkways or flying buses. (Nuclear-powered, natch!) None imagined the Interstate highway system or the growth of suburbs, which have largely emptied the imagined megacities of tomorrow.
Houses would be built of lead, concrete, asbestos (!), foam, or plastic. The kitchens of tomorrow featured pop-up ranges, retracting cabinets, and all sorts of other gadgetry (not to mention female models all looking remarkably like June Cleaver). Not one featured today’s nearly ubiquitous microwave oven.
In the 1950s one car manufacturer bragged about how much you'd love its new plastic seats, failing to anticipate the combined effects of (a) plastic vinyl, (b) wearing shorts, and (c) heat and humidity. (Which allows me also to plug one of my favorite white-trash, hillbilly-funk, road-kill rock bands, Southern Culture on the Skids, and their best album, Plastic Seat Sweat.)
And pity the poor creators of the original Star Trek series. They set their story 400 years in the future but wrote it only a few years before the microchip integrated circuit became widely available, meaning all their "futuristic" equipment looks unbelievably clunky and stupid today, full of dials and knobs and blinking lights that look downright laughable compared to today's average cell phone or iPod.
So, I'll read the predictions for next year. Some might be close; most will be wrong. And I'll put my trust in the one prediction that I know is true because it was made by one who proved His reliability through His life, death, and resurrection.
Happy New Year to all.
Tony Woodlief writes in today's Wall Street Journal about the merits of believing in Santa Claus, or more precisely, his kids' belief in the jolly old elf. Concerned that his 8-year-old son is figuring out the improbability of delivering gifts to every child in the whole world in a single night, he writes, Perhaps a more responsible parent would confess, but I hesitate. For this I blame G.K. Chesterton, whose treatise "Orthodoxy" had its 100th anniversary this year. One of its themes is the violence that rationalistic modernism has worked on the valuable idea of a "mystical condition," which is to say the mystery inherent in a supernaturally created world. Writing of his path to faith in God, Chesterton says: "I had always believed that the world involved magic: now I thought that perhaps it involved a magician."
Woodlief further appeals to the likes of George MacDonald and C.S. Lewis in defense of his defense of Santa, saying, As a parent, I believe (with the older apologists) that it's essential to preserve a small, inviolate space in the heart of a child, a space where he is free to believe impossibilities. The fantasy writer George MacDonald -- author of "The Light Princess" and "The Golden Key" -- whom Lewis esteemed as one of his greatest inspirations, suggested that it is only by gazing through magic-tinted eyes that one can see God: "With his divine alchemy," McDonald wrote, "he turns not only water into wine, but common things into radiant mysteries." The obfuscating spirit of the "commonplace," meanwhile, is "ever covering the deep and clouding the high."
Nowhere else is that obfuscation more evident than in the scientific community. Having watched most of Expelled last night, I was deeply troubled by what's revealed in the debate between scientists who hold an unquestioning devotion to Darwin's theory and those who are willing to consider evidence to the contrary.
If Ben Stein's documentary is right, the rejection of all things non-material does violence to much more than Chesterton's "idea of a 'mystical condition.'" The violence is pervasive and brutally physical. Witness the willful extermination of 6 million Jews in the name of racial purity; atrocities made possible in part by a whole bunch of people devoted to Darwin's view of the world. His was a world without anything beyond our five senses.
And if that's all there is, then we have no free will, no purpose, and nothing at all beyond this life (so says Darwinist Will Provine in the film). It's a glum -- and ultimately violent -- existence.
You may be thinking the links between Santa, Darwin and Jesus a bit flimsy or hokey, but trust me, they're there (or better yet, read the article and rent the film and see them for yourself). At root is a willingness to believe in a reality that we can't smell or see or hear or taste or touch.
Woodlief says, Magic-talk gets under the skin of many, like renowned scientist and atheist Richard Dawkins. This is doubly so when it is what the Christ-figure Aslan, in C.S. Lewis's "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," calls "the deeper magic," an allusion to divinity. Mr. Dawkins is reportedly writing a book examining the pernicious tendency of fantasy tales to promote "anti-scientific" thinking among children. He suspects that such stories lay the groundwork for religious faith, the inculcation of which, he claims, is a worse form of child abuse than sexual molestation.
For his part, Woodlief will remain loyal to the fantastical: Puritans and atheists alike may disapprove, but our home is filled with fairy tales and fiction books, in hopes that the magic sprinkled across their pages will linger in the hearts of our children. In this we side with Chesterton, who wrote: "I left the fairy tales lying on the floor of the nursery, and I have not found any books so sensible since."
I'm with him.
A Samsung 50-inch Plasma HDTV for $798, a Bissel Compact Upright Vacuum for $28, a Samsung 10.2 megapixel digital camera for $69 and DVDs such as "The Incredible Hulk" for $9. All this and more were reason enough for over 2,000 eager shoppers to line up outside Walmart for their 5 a.m. opening.
How eager? So eager that they trampled a man to death in their zeal to save money. I realize this is a tough economy for a lot of Americans. But its not like this was a run on bread or rice for kids waiting hungrily at home praying for a meal. 34-year-old Jdimytai Damour was trampled to death for bargains on a TV. A vacuum cleaner. A camera. He gave his life so shoppers could be sure to get their very own copy of "The Incredible Hulk" -- for $9. Such a deal.
Sadly, his tragic death wasn't the only casualty of yesterday's shopping frenzy. A 28-year-old woman, eight months pregnant, was among four other shoppers who were hospitalized after being knocked down in the stampede.
According to an AP report, Dozens of store employees trying to fight their way out to help Damour were also getting trampled by the crowd, Fleming said. Shoppers stepped over the man on the ground and streamed into the store. ...
Kimberly Cribbs, who witnessed the stampede, said shoppers were acting like "savages."
"When they were saying they had to leave, that an employee got killed, people were yelling 'I've been on line since yesterday morning,'" she said. "They kept shopping."
I didn't realize retailers have traditionally called the Friday after Thanksgiving "Black" because it's the day, fueled by Christmas shoppers eager for a bargain, when stores' balance sheets leave the red and cross over into profitability for the year.
This gives the title a whole new meaning. It was, indeed the ultimate in darkness for Mr. Damour.
During my recent travels in Germany I had the opportunity to spend a day at the Nazi concentration camp at Dachau. It's situated in a leafy suburb of Munich, today a bustling neighborhood of houses and shopping centers, with even a McDonald's and a Burger King near the entrance to the memorial site.
 But 75 years ago it opened as the first concentration camp in a Nazi regime barely three months old. (Hitler came to power in January 1933, and Dachau opened in March 1933.) It became the model for every other camp in a chain of hundreds that would stretch from Germany to Russia, with infamous names such as Buchenwald, Treblinka and Auschwitz as well as Dachau being seared into the world’s conscience.
It was initially described as a work camp, and the words on its entrance gate, Arbeit Macht Frei (Work Makes You Free), contribute to that lie. But Heinrich Himmler, perhaps in a moment of unguarded candor, described the camp as "the first concentration camp for political prisoners." Its first occupants were political enemies of the Nazi regime as well as social "undesirables" (including Gypsies and homosexuals) and common criminals. It soon became the main camp for Christian dissenters, and an entire barracks was used to house Roman Catholic priests and Protestant preachers.
 Its population soon swelled to include Jews and prisoners of war. By the time of its liberation by American troops in April 1945, a camp originally designed to hold 6,000 had swelled to hundreds of thousands of prisoners, not to mention the tens of thousands who had died of exhaustion, starvation or execution during the 12 years it was in operation. They lived in inhuman conditions, crammed like livestock into buildings designed to hold a small fraction of that number. (Actually, livestock probably had it better on the average German farm at the time.) So bad were the conditions, a typhus epidemic swept through the camp in the weeks before liberation, killing thousands.
Walking the grounds of the memorial site today, you can't stop asking yourself, How? Why? An entire nation apparently went mad. That, or they were indifferent to the evil happening next door. After the war many Germans said they had no idea what was happening, but a bit of popular doggerel at the time says otherwise: Lieber Herr Gott, mach mich stumm
Das ich nicht nach Dachau komm
(Dear God, make me dumb
That I may not to Dachau come.)
We also just marked the 70th anniversary of Kristallnacht, Night of the Broken Glass, the first overt persecution of the Jews in Germany and annexed Austria. In a ceremony earlier this week, German Chancellor Angela Merkel said: "Indifference is the first step towards endangering essential values. ... There was no storm of protest against the Nazi, but silence, shrugged shoulders and people looking away—from individual citizens to large parts of the church. ... It is a mistake to think it doesn't affect you when your neighbors are affected. This mistake just leads us further and further into evil."
Indeed, the opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference. The hater at least believes something, and perhaps he can be reasoned with. The indifferent merely shrugs his shoulders and says, "Whatever."
 My purpose here is not to accuse anyone of being a Nazi. Far from it. But I want to sound a warning of what can happen when ordinary men become indifferent to evil. There was one hopeful sign the day I was at Dachau. A group of young men and women in German military uniforms were touring the memorial site that day. I'd love to know what was going through their heads as they read the exhibits and listened to the videos. Was it mandatory that they be there, or were they there of their own free will? Either way, I think that's a good sign. And the mere fact of the memorial, its reverent upkeep and the fact that it charges no admission is also a good sign.
 By now you might be wondering about the title of this post. In idiomatic German it means Do Something.
Think about it.
Now that it's almost over, the thing that's surprised me the most about this election season is the lack of independent thinking displayed by many voters, in particular those who claim to subscribe to a Judeo-Christian worldview. Time and again I've been struck by believers who simply regurgitate some perceived need for "hope" and "change," yet aren't able to articulate any specifics with regard to these lofty sounding ideals.
I hadn't realized just how pervasive this kind of thinking was until last week, when I showed up at a friend's house for a night of chili and video-game bowling. As the election was just a few days away, the evening's conversation eventually turned to politics.
My first instinct was to avoid any discussion of the candidates, as I didn't want to turn a night intended for harmless fun into a charged debate. But when one of the guys, a seasoned Christian who works for a local nonprofit ministry, started explaining the reasoning behind his voting philosophy, I found it hard to remain silent.
The discussion shifted to the value of human life and the role that politicians play in either protecting it or devaluing its importance. I brought up the importance of a president's philosophy on judicial nominations and looming legislation like the Freedom of Choice Act.
And that's when it happened.
"Come on," he said. "You can't legislate morality."
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Now, I don't know who first coined the phrase, or how long ago, but I do know that it has managed to live on ever since. I probably heard it for the first time nearly 20 years ago, and for a moment or two, it seemed to make sense. But the more I thought about it, I realized that if you can't legislate morality, then we might as well throw out many of the most important rules in human history.
Laws forbidding murder, rape and theft are all based in morality -- in particular the Ten Commandments. Lying (to a jury, for instance) and cheating (say, on your taxes) are also matters of biblical morality. Sure, we have plenty of laws that have little to do with Judeo-Christian values, but those are the issues that tell us where we can park our cars downtown during business hours or how public funds are divided between maintaining playgrounds and upgrading roads. The most vital issues pertaining to matters of personal property and public safety are inherently moral and always have been.
Now, there will always be those who say the phrase isn't meant to be taken literally, that the true meaning is more esoteric. "You can't legislate morality," they argue, "because laws won't change people's hearts."
So what then? Do we abandon laws based in morality when they're no longer popular? Do we legalize drugs, prostitution, sex with children, euthanasia? You might say that such things could never happen, but we all know better. They've happened before, and they're happening now. If not in America, such laws are already in place in other parts of the world. Where does it end?
History tells us that we've been here before. Just read the Book of Judges, which describes a time when Israel departed from the standards of conduct found in the law. The result? "Everyone did what was right in his own eyes."
You can't legislate morality, you say? Not only can we, but we must.
Today I published a TrueU article about how we can all change the world. It may be simpler than you thought.
I've realized that doing faith, that really changing the world for God's glory, is much more difficult than talking about it. Jesus wants us to go and make disciples, to bring about His kingdom, to share His truth. But that's hard: A lot of times I write stuff that I think is beautiful and inspiring. I hijack an abstract idea like "faith in action" and then talk a lot about how Jesus wanted us to do things. I use bouncy verbs like shout and jump and reach. I get myself very hyped up about this idea of faith being something that we do. I write about it and talk about it and am very convinced that Jesus wants me to be a mover, a doer, a helper.
Then I go take a nap.
The nap usually comes in because acting out faith requires stepping out of my comfort zone. Or I shrug off responsibility because I hear about poverty in the world or the ideas that compete against the Christan worldview, and it seems almost impossible to overcome those things. But this is where I need to recognize that each of us has been called to work within the body in different ways. Your way of changing the world for Christ will probably look different than mine.
One of the ways I can share God's truth is through the articles I write. But I think He's called me to sharing truth and love in smaller ways as well: A lot of the time, He probably wants me to wash my roommate's dishes or to be patient with my brother. I think He wants me to learn His Word and to get to know Him so well that He is my favorite thing to talk about when I'm around others. He wants me to feel compassion for the homeless people downtown, and I think Jesus wants me to actually apply the words I write to my own life.
So, whether it's implementing policy or cleaning up after your roommates, what does changing the world for God's glory look like for you?
The evolutionist is locked into an intellectual box from which there is no rescue. Evolutionary theory is naturalistic by necessity — everything must be explained in purely naturalistic terms. Only nature can explain nature, and there is no other source of meaning or truth. Thus, in the end the theory of evolution — and the theory of evolution alone — must explain everything about humanity.
So says Dr. Al Mohler in his blog post: "The End of Evolution?" Is it possible we're moving into a post-evolution scientific era? Geneticist Steve Jones at University College London seems to think so. At least where it involves human evolution. Mohler references a recent lecture by Jones: Speaking on his chosen topic, "Evolution is Over," Jones argued that human evolution has reached an end because of changes in human health and human behavior.
Jones argues that human evolution is at a standstill because one of the crucial engines of evolutionary change, genetic mutation, is stalled. Jones explained that evolution moves forward by natural selection, mutation, and random change. Mutation is stalled, at least in part, because fewer older men are having babies.
Basically, reproduction and human behavior are failing to follow evolutionary patterns. (I've always wondered why humans haven't evolved into something better by now.) Mohler suggests that Jones's observations point to a larger lesson about the "inherent limitations of the evolutionary worldview." He writes: Evolutionary theory cannot possibly explain the totality of human experience, much less the reality of human origins. Evolutionists — if consistent — believe that every human experience, every emotion, every physical attribute, every hope, and every fear is simply a feature developed by means of natural selection.
That's a cold theory, and it just doesn't make sense to the vast majority of Americans — and it shouldn't. The Christian worldview offers a far more satisfying, true, and understandable account of human origins and human existence.
Ultimately science does not operate free of human experience. Eventually the two intersect. And sometimes the result is a step in the right direction.
What happens when David Zucker, the creator of the Airplane, Naked Gun, and Scary Movie franchises wants to make a conservative movie? You get a few interesting points punctuated with face slaps and a high school level obsession with women's bodies.
The premise of An American Carol is a creative spin on the Charles Dickens classic. A Michael Moore type character rethinks his anti-American attitudes when he's visited by three ghosts stressing different American values. And the casting is an opportunity for various Hollywood conservatives -- including Kelsey Grammer, Jon Voight, Dennis Hopper and Kevin Farley (brother of the late comedian Chris Farley) -- to hold up values other celebrities look down on.
It's quite bold of Zucker -- and the various stars and producers he rallied behind this project -- to take on issues such as patriotism, the need for national defense, the real threat of Islamic extremism, ACLU lawyers and more. His representation of university professors as stuck in 1968 is quite biting. Jon Voight's comments as George Washington and a scene towards the end incorporating soldiers from various wars offer some poignant commentary on receding American values.
But does it have to be so crude?
Just as Zucker is about to pull on a heartstring, he goes back to the gags he built his career on. Watching this pattern throughout the movie -- with one crude gag after the other -- made Candice and I wonder if Zucker felt the need to show that he could embrace some conservative values without forgetting how to pull off potty humor.
A running joke of the movie is that the Michael Moore character can't be taken seriously because he only makes documentaries instead of feature films. As much as we found it innovative for Zucker to try to communicate his emerging conservative values through comedy, we couldn't help but wonder if enough moviegoers will take him seriously enough to justify all the groaner gags he sends up along the way.
IMHO, one of the best products to ever come out of Focus on the Family is The Truth Project. It's compelling, theologically sound and highly relevant. It's also not entirely easy to plug into. You can't go download it for free. You can't even go buy it off the shelf. But that's by design. The Truth Project was created to be experienced in small groups and led by other people who have gone through the material and are motivated to guide others through what they experienced.
To spread the opportunities for people to participate, The Truth Project team has conducted trainings for thousands of people throughout North America and even in several international settings. People who attend the trainings get copies of the DVD curriculum and are ready to lead a small group.
People who want to plug in without doing the training, just need to find small groups that are offering it. To that end, the Truth Project team recently added a search tool for people who would like to find a Truth Project small group in their area.
Even after attending a great Christian college and graduate school, I still gained a lot of insight and motivation from The Truth Project. If you haven't had a chance to check it out, please consider attending a training or searching for a small group in your area.
I may not post as often as some of the other Boundless Line regulars, but I try to check the site whenever possible throughout the day. With that in mind, I've noticed a rather troubling trend in the comments section.
Whether the topic is voting, adoption or texting while driving, there are more and more commenters these days who seem to acknowledge the "rightness" of a position right before proclaiming that they will likely continue to ignore said position. I'll call it the "Yeah, but ..." syndrome.
In other words, "Yeah, I know that God hates abortion, but I'd rather cast my vote this year based on No Child Left Behind ..."
Or, "Yeah, I agree that kids should have both a mother and father, but lots of important professional organizations endorse same-sex parenting ..."
Or even, "Yeah, it's obvious that texting while driving is extremely dangerous, but I don't plan on stopping ..."
Perhaps I'm just one of those old-school kids who watched the crash test dummies go flying through the air and henceforth concluded that seat belts were a pretty good idea. Similarly, I only have to read Jeremiah 32:35 once to comprehend that child sacrifice is detestable in the sight of God.
Of course, I've also managed to repeatedly disregard the biblical admonitions against lying, coveting and lusting in my heart. Simply put, I'd rather admit I'm a hapless sinner than casually justify behavior that flies in the face of Holy Scripture and common sense.
You might think I'm a hypocrite for even bringing this up. And you know what? You're absolutely right.
When I was in graduate school, my professor gave a lecture about how vulnerable to totalitarian control people are when they believe in magic. Superstitious people are more likely to trust in corrupt governments that promise them protection, even at the price of their own freedom. It was a provocative idea then, even if it did seem a bit far fetched.
But it all came back to me today with clarity reading about how similarly gullible the irreligious (read: atheists) are. In "Look Who's Irrational Now," Mollie Ziegler Hemingway writes in the Wall Street Journal that "Atheists are more likely to believe in Bigfoot." But that's not all. They're also more open to dreams as prophecy, Atlantis, haunted houses and the Loch Ness Monster. More open than whom? Than "people who attend a house of worship more than once a week."
It seems believers in the God of the Bible are more grounded in what's real. According to Hemingway, "The reality is that the New Atheist campaign, by discouraging religion, won't create a new group of intelligent, skeptical, enlightened, beings. Far from it: It might actually encourage new levels of mass superstition. And that's not a conclusion to take on faith -- it's what the empirical data tell us."
Drawing on the findings of Baylor University's study, "What Americans Really Believe," she notes that "traditional Christian religion greatly decreases belief in everything from the efficacy of palm readers to the usefulness of astrology." The study also found that "members of more liberal Protestant denominations, far from being resistant to superstition, tend to be much more likely to believe in the paranormal and in pseudoscience than evangelical Christians."
If ever there were a time in history when we need to be discerning and not easily sucked into irrational thinking, it's now. And it's the committed Christians who are in the best position to think clearly.
Hemingway ends her column with this from G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown: It's the first effect of not believing in God that you lose your common sense, and can't see things as they are.
When I was in second grade I got my mouth washed out with soap. I no longer remember what I said; I remember only the horrible taste of Ivory soap as the teacher rammed the bar into my mouth and then made me wash down the sudsy residue with water. I also remember being bewildered and humiliated, because I honestly didn't know that what I'd said was considered bad.
In fifth grade I got busted again. I do remember what I said then -- sorry, can't repeat it here -- but I swear I didn't know it was considered a bad word. After all, everyone else used it. I just had the incredible bad luck of using it on a teacher. And I have to admit that when I was in the Marines, I occasionally -- okay, more than occasionally -- used language that would make a gangsta rapper blush.
I've often wondered about how we as a culture react to bad words. First, we must make a distinction between profanity, properly defined, and plain old vulgarisms or obscenities. The former is, literally, profaning God's name, using it in vain. The latter are scatological or crude sexual terms that society deems out of bounds. Unfortunately, we tend to use the word profanity for all "bad" language, even when it technically isn't profane. In fact, I've written before about confusion concerning what it means to profane God's name.
All this comes to mind because of the popularity of the updated and revised Battlestar Galactica and the "dirty" word it has introduced to our culture: frak. (I didn't realize, by the way, that the word was not coined for the new, darker, edgier Galactica; it was actually first used in the cheesy '70s version of the series -- you know, the one where everyone is supposedly from a very distant planet in the very distant past but they all wear bad disco haircuts and the evil cylons sport more chrome than a Buick Roadmaster. Who knew?)
We all know what frak sounds like, but it's not really "the word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words," as young Ralphie described it. We all know what they mean when they say it, but they're not actually saying it. So does it count as a "dirty word"?
This brings to mind the comedian Lenny Bruce, who was arrested numerous times in the early '60s on obscenity charges. (The late George Carlin cited Bruce as his inspiration for the act that made him famous: The Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say on Television.) During one nightclub show, knowing that the police were ready to bust him, Bruce told a vulgar story full of euphemisms for excretory and sexual acts without actually using the words. The audience roared with laughter, and the police stood by helplessly. Bruce famously remarked, "This is the dirtiest show I've ever done, and they can't touch me!"
And how many of you knew that when you use words like Gee, Jeez, Yeesh, or the like that you're actually using a euphemism for Jesus' name? Does that mean you're being profane? (Our print magazines will not use these or similar words, by the way.) Dr. Dobson is famous for his use of Gadzooks, which is really a euphemism for "God's hooks," a British expression that in older days was a profane oath on the spikes used to nail Jesus to the cross. So is Dr. Dobson being profane?
In the end, I think, it comes down to intent. Do you know that what you're saying is bad? Do you intend to say it? In second grade, I was purely innocent, even though I probably technically said a bad word. In fifth grade, I was sort of innocent, but I was also mouthing off at the teacher, so my heart was not in the right place. But Lenny Bruce was guilty, even though he technically did not say any obscene words.
So where does that leave Battlestar Galactica and frak? It's an interesting question. I rarely if ever notice the f-word in a movie unless I'm assaulted by a fusillade of the vulgarism; after years in the Marines I'm inured to it. But I blanch when I hear Galactica's version on TV. Why? I think the nudge-nudge, wink-wink nature of it is part of the problem. It's a sly way of getting people to hear swearing even though they're technically not swearing. It's like Lenny Bruce, reveling in something while getting away with it. It's the intent, not the word.
Thoughts?
If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart? -- Alexander Solzhenitsyn
In 1974, while recovering from a serious illness that required weeks in the hospital and even longer recuperating at home, I received a copy of The Gulag Archipelago to help pass the time. The book had only just been published in the West, but for years it had been circulated as mimeographed samizdat in the Soviet Union. It was Solzhenitsyn's j'accuse against the Communist Soviet Union, and he introduced to the world the gulag and the zek. Solzhenitsyn died on Sunday and is being laid to rest today in his beloved Russian soil.
Reading Gulag was, to say the least, a bleak experience -- but bleak in an eye-opening way. This was the height of the Cold War, and I remember having seen films in history classes about the atrocities of Stalin and Mao, complete with archival footage of firing squads and summary executions. But as shocking and visceral as those images may have been, they were but glimpses. Reading Solzhenitsyn, on the other hand, was a thousand-plus pages of brutality both casual and calculated. It was day after day of a punch to the gut.
Despite the brief thaw under Khrushchev that allowed the publication of Solzhenitsyn's first book, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, in 1962, Solzhenitsyn still had much to fear from the Kremlin and the KGB. But he fearlessly persisted in calling the world's attention to the totalitarian nature of the Soviet Union and the crimes against humanity that were perpetrated in the name of creating the New Man. Solzhenitsyn's work put the final lie to those on the political Left who claimed that the horror of the Soviet Union was only because Stalin had distorted the system; Solzhenitsyn showed that system was the horror.
Not wanting to make a martyr of the man, the Soviets expelled him in 1974, and he came to live in the U.S. But if Americans and others in the West thought that because Solzhenitsyn hated the Communists he would love them, they were in for a rude surprise, as they found out when Solzhenitsyn addressed the 1978 graduating class of Harvard University. He considered the West weak and decadent, and he was as forthright in saying that to our faces as he was in denouncing the Communists to their faces. A decline in courage may be the most striking feature that an outside observer notices in the West today. The Western world has lost its civic courage, both as a whole and separately, in each country, in each government, in each political party, and, of course, in the United Nations. Such a decline in courage is particularly noticeable among the ruling and intellectual elites, causing an impression of a loss of courage by the entire society. There are many courageous individuals, but they have no determining influence on public life.
Solzhenitsyn was soon dismissed as a crank. He lived in exile in Vermont and occasionally would be quoted in public, but with the fall of communism, he was seen as irrelevant. He returned to Mother Russia in the 1990s and found, not the Russia of his dreams, but a country exhausted by 70 years of tyranny and eager to adopt the luxuries they'd so long been denied. There were McDonalds in Moscow, no less.
Solzhenitsyn was not the pure saint some imagined him to be. In a way, he was a crank. And in the irony of ironies, Solzhenitsyn's wish for a Dostoyevskyian Russia dominated by a strong Czar and the Russian Orthodox Church led him to support an incipient tyrant in Vladimir Putin. He also supported the Serbs, ostensibly Orthodox Christians, in their genocide against Muslim Kosovars and Bosnians.
In short, Solzhenitsyn was a difficult man. The phrase "speaking truth to power" is a horribly overused cliché that should be put to a violent death, but if any one person ever personified it, it was Solzhenitsyn. Yes, he was stubborn and sometimes wrong. But when he was right, he was dead right.
The world needs difficult men. And some of what he had to say is just as important to us today as it was 30 years ago. He told his Harvard audience: Harvard's motto is "Veritas." Many of you have already found out and others will find out in the course of their lives that truth eludes us if we do not concentrate with total attention on its pursuit. And even while it eludes us, the illusion still lingers of knowing it and leads to many misunderstandings. Also, truth is seldom pleasant; it is almost invariably bitter.
Yes, but it is still the truth.
There are plenty of things that I just don't know. Plenty of things about which I'm just unable to make any confident conclusions, despite having spent time researching them. Here are a few.
Fossil Fuels
The theory that petroleum is a "fossil fuel" -- i.e., the result of ancient plant and animal life being heated and compressed -- was first suggested in the 1700s. Since then, numerous scientists have found inconsistencies with this "biogenic origin" hypothesis, and have suggested that it is instead "produced by the abiotic synthesis of hydrocarbons in the mantle of the earth."
A team of scientists conducted experiments with a reactor vessel they had built which proved that oil is produced from calcium carbonate and iron oxide, neither of which are biological. Science Magazine published an article that supports this abiogenic hypothesis, concluding, "Our findings illustrate that the abiotic synthesis of hydrocarbons in nature may occur in the presence of ultramafic rocks, water, and moderate amounts of heat."
If this theory is true, that petroleum is not a fossil fuel, or at least in some cases it's not a fossil fuel, then that would make oil a renewable resource, continually being generated by natural processes miles below the surface of the earth. Which makes such concerns as the "peak oil hypothesis," for example, invalid. Interestingly, this abiogenic hypothesis would also seem consistent with some young earth theories of creation.
So what do I believe? I don't really know, frankly. Evidence exists in support of both theories, and I can discount neither.
Alien Life
Does life exist on other planets? Hm. Not sure. Scripture doesn't say that the Lord only created life on earth, which leaves room for God to have brought about living beings elsewhere in the universe.
Some people say that the universe is so big, of course there's got to be life out there. That's a pretty silly thing to say, in my opinion, because the Creator could form life on other worlds whether there's just one other planet or billions of other planets. Life comes about because of His word, not because the chances for it happening seem larger because the universe is so large.
Astronaut Dr Edgar Mitchell (who happened to be the sixth man to set foot on the moon) recently claimed to have inside knowledge about the existence of extraterrestrial life. Is he making it up? Is he losing his mind? I don't know.
C.S. Lewis took serious this question about life on other planets and concluded that if it exists, it's no threat to the Christian faith. They may have sinned, or not. The Son may have solved their sin problem in a way unique to that species, or perhaps His human incarnation is sufficient for all beings terrestrial and extraterrestrial. Regardless, if life does exist "out there" it's not a threat to Christianity, despite the claims of some.
So what do I think? Is there alien life? Are UFOs demonic? Have humans ever interacted with extraterrestrials? I don't know.
Light
Is it a particle? Is it a wave? Is it a, um, "particle-wave"? Who knows?
Light was created on the very first day, an ancient and elusive thing about which C.S. Lewis rhapsodized, "We cannot see light, though by light we can see things."
Though weightless, or perhaps of very little mass, it is powerful. Darkness cannot overcome it. Scripture says that God Himself is "light." We are called into that light to become children of light. Scripture's high estimation of light tells me that there's something quite special about it.
I understand a bit what light does, and how it's associated with good. But what it is ... I cannot tell.
Unplumbed Mysteries
I'm tempted to explore other enigmas -- heaven, the gospel, Christ, our very faith -- but that would move this blog post beyond its intended scope: mysteries of the physical world.
So how about you? Do you find petroleum, aliens and light as intriguing as I do? What about photosynthesis, aurora borealis, the nature of language, the growth of a seed into an apple tree or a child, the ongoing beating of your heart? What else puzzles you in this wonderful universe our Lord has created?
Before you dismiss this post as yet another negative review of The Shack, let me state up front that I've never even seen William Young's book. What I want to look at is a common theme I've noticed in the ensuing discussion; that for every carefully crafted critique of the book, there are those who continue to defend the The Shack as "touching," "moving," "stirring" and "thought-provoking."
What is particularly interesting, however, is how many justify the book's theological failings with the phrase "God used it." And if "God can use it," the thinking goes -- to reach a non-believer, or to encourage a wayward Christian in their faith -- well, then it must be worthwhile. Right? After all, God can use anything He wants to, and who are we to criticize God? Thus with one simple turn of phrase, an attack on The Shack becomes an attack on God Himself.
This logical leap extends far beyond The Shack. It's the same type of thinking many believers use when referencing the story of Balaam's donkey. "If God can use a donkey," they say, "then He can certainly use [insert just about anything here]."
Trouble is, we can see that God's use of a donkey to influence Balaam didn't happen by accident. It was obviously a deliberate act, one that is never replicated anywhere else in Scripture. He made the animal talk, for Pete's sake! Yet some Christians use this passage to suggest that whenever someone changes their attitude or behavior for the better after reading an unbiblical book, watching an unbiblical movie or listening to an unbiblical song, then we better not criticize the media in question, because God obviously "used it."
I've heard many times how God used classic rock songs like "Stairway to Heaven" or "Carry On Wayward Son," or movies like "Star Wars" or "The Matrix" to accomplish some sort of higher purpose in an individual's life. Forget the fact that the spirituality depicted in these songs and films is a veritable mishmash of various religious and mythological teachings; if God used it in their life, then it must OK. Based on that logic, why don't churches distribute Led Zeppelin albums instead of Bibles, since listening to "Stairway to Heaven" is way cooler than reading about the Ten Commandments?
Of course I'm getting carried away now, but the gist of this thinking is that God is so desperate to reach people that He is willing to tolerate all manner of New Age ramblings if just one person can look past the heresy and somehow stumble onto the true nature of the Christian faith. Never mind that for every individual who is drawn closer to God through a book like Mitch Albom's "Tuesdays with Morrie," there are countless others who come away thinking that the true meaning of life has more to do with the sentimental sayings of a dying old man and little or nothing to do with Jesus Christ.
But what about Paul's proclamation that he became "all things to all men so that by all possible means" he might save some? Well, did Paul become a sorcerer so that he might save the sorcerers of his day? Did he become a Pharisee so that he might win over the Pharisaical community? No, Paul was actually explaining that he gave up his own rights and freedoms for the sake of those he was trying to save. He conformed to others' laws and practices so that he might reach them with the Gospel.
Does that mean Christians shouldn't use books, movies or music to help evangelize the lost? Not at all. The important distinction is to properly assess the value of these cultural tools. Paul's letter to the Philippians gives us some pretty good guidelines: "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable ... think about such things."
Fans of The Shack are surely right in one thing: God can use anything He wants to reach anyone He wants. (Tom Neven -- not a fan of the book -- acknowledged as much in an earlier post.) Indeed, in Luke 19, Jesus tells the Pharisees that if his disciples keep quiet, "the stones will cry out." The implication here is that if Christ's followers are silenced, then Creation itself will testify to His existence. But when was the last time you heard a stone cry out? For that matter, when was the last time you heard a talking animal? Sure, God "can use" whatever methods He pleases, but as long as His Word is readily available and His followers are willing and able to proclaim the Good News, then I'm confident He can do without Luke Skywalker's help.
So, do you think I'm way off the mark here? Do you think God is willing to put up with misguided theology as long as something good sometimes results? Let the commenting begin.
Were the men on the Titanic heroes or sexists?
Some thought (and think) them heroes. In fact, a memorial still stands in Washington, D.C., reading, "To the brave men who perished in the wreck of the Titanic, April 15, 1912. They gave their lives that women and children might be saved. Erected by the women of America."
Some thought (and think) them sexists. The very idea that women needed protection was a symptom of patriarchy run amok. In an article titled, "The Titanic Riddle," one author wonders:
You're on the Titanic II. It has just hit an iceberg and is sinking. And, as last time, there are not enough lifeboats. The captain shouts, "Women and children first!" But this time, another voice is heard: "Why women?" Why, indeed?
"Boats or Votes?" asked one prominent newspaper at the time, seeming to indicate that women needed to choose between equality (the right to vote) and protection (the boats).
That dichotomy--either choose protection or choose equality--is a difficult one. On one hand, I want it to be known and acknowledged that I am not inferior, that I am absolutely of equal worth as a man. On the other, I know deep down that I am more vulnerable to harm in this life, and I long for safety and security.
Thankfully, it's a choice that Christianity does not demand I make. Certainly, the world will tell me that accepting protection from godly men is the same as affirming my inferiority to them. But the Word tells me different. It acknowledges both truths--my worth and my vulnerability--without making me choose between them.
God tells me that I am an equal heir to His kingdom. But He also commands that my Christian brothers, my husband in particular, act to me as Christ acted toward the church. That he be willing to give himself up for me.
As I write in today's Boundless article, "Nurturing Protection," "the world's masculinity either demands to be served or refuses to be bothered." But biblical masculinity acknowledges both my worth and its mandate to serve sacrificially by laying down his life for mine.
To me, those Titanic men were unquestionable heroes. They didn't demean a woman's worth by protecting her; they esteemed it.
Boats or Votes? Equal Worth or Protection? I'm very thankful God gives me both.
That seems to be the popular sentiment regarding Christians in the public square. Hasn't religion divided us enough? Can't we find common ground?
How's your June going? For those readers in the Northern Hemisphere, have you been able to enjoy some summertime relaxation? Or have recent news headlines robbed you of peace? All the talk about the weather, the economy, gas prices, and more led an AP writer recently to ask "Is Everything Spinning out of Control?" I enjoyed Michael Craven's response to these anxiety inducing headlines in his commentary today for the Center for Christ & Culture: Of course the "news of the day," as Neil Postman observed, is a "figment of our technological imagination. It is ... a media event" (Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death, p. 8). It is a concentrated compilation of the most distressing, sordid, and scandalous events that appeal to our voyeuristic tendencies and heighten our sense that "everything is spinning out of control."
For many Christians, this sense of frustration with the country's direction is not all that new and recent events, as well as the news, have only exacerbated their concerns. However, I am amazed at the level of pessimism among so many Christians that I encounter. I think this may also be a product of too much reliance on politics. This is, after all, the pressing concern of the population whose frustrations center mostly on the failed expectations of their political leaders and government: the economy, the war, fuel prices, and so on. Add to that concerns over the moral direction of the nation, and the church often appears indifferent or defeated.
This is puzzling to me. How can Christians be pessimistic about the future when they serve the risen King whose kingdom has no end? Do so many fail to realize that our God reigns? Do so many fail to understand that God is sovereign over all things and that His redemptive work in the world is and will be carried to its full completion?
Thanks for that perspective Michael.
I've been thinking the past few days how much I depend upon my feelings. I may think I'm being logical, but I often make decisions based on how I feel.
Exhibit A: I am emotionally touched by that romantic comedy with slightly immoral content. I resonate with the plight and feelings of the main character. Sure, her values are different than mine, but I like her and I'm rooting for her. I justify the inappropriate content, because watching this film makes me feel good.
Exhibit B: I'm indignant. That fellow Christian did something that offended me. I find it unacceptable, not because it violated a Scriptural command but because it hurt my feelings. Surely something that upsets me that much is wrong. And I certainly won't be the first to seek reconciliation.
Exhibit C: I like Skip*. Even though Skip exhibits signs of spiritual immaturity and is clearly not pursuing (just) me, I feel this strong pull toward him. This must mean something deep and significant, right?
In each of these situations I am allowing my feelings to be my primary guiding factor. There's one big problem with that: My heart is the last thing I should be trusting.
Jeremiah writes: The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?
This message flies in the face of our culture's obsession with "follow your heart." Unless your heart is captive to the Savior, it is the last thing you should be following. Jesus offers a different mantra: follow me. Comparing Himself to a shepherd, Jesus says: "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me."
So don't let your heart deceive you. It's not infallible. In fact, its default mode is to lead you the wrong direction. Don't follow your heart; follow your Savior.
*Fictional name
Who wrote this letter? I appreciate your letter containing your views on abortion. There are many moral and legal aspects arising from this complex issue which is gaining the acceptance of large numbers of women faced with unwanted pregnancies, while disturbing the consciences of a great many other Americans.
Opponents maintain that abortion is wrong from every theological, moral and medical aspect. Proponents are firmly convinced that the woman, alone, has the right to decide.
While the deep concern of a woman bearing an unwanted child merit consideration and sympathy, it is my personal feeling that the legalization of abortion on demand is not in accordance with the value which our civilization places on human life. Wanted or unwanted, I believe that human life, even at its earliest stages, has certain rights which must be recognized - the right to be born, the right to love, the right to grow old.
On the question of the individual’s freedom of choice there are easily available birth control methods and information which women may employ to prevent or postpone pregnancy. But once life has begun, no matter at what stage of growth, it is my belief that termination should not be decided merely by desire. [editor's emphasis]
I share the confidence of those who feel that America is willing to care for its unwanted as well as wanted children, protecting particularly those who cannot protect themselves. I also share the opinions of those who do not accept abortion as a response to our society’ s problem - an inadequate welfare system, unsatisfactory job training programs, and insufficient financial support for all its citizens.
When history looks back to this era it should recognize this generation as one which cared about human beings enough to halt the practice of war, to provide a decent living for every family, and to fulfill its responsibility to its children from the very moment of conception.
Give up? Look here.
Big HT to Creative Minority Report.
Last week I wrote a blog post questioning why so many confessing Christians support same-sex marriage. It sparked a long tail of comments both speaking against and defending such actions. For the most part, the conversation was civil ... until I started receiving crit mail about my original post. Which surprised me.
To be honest, I sort of dismissed it. And then I got a personal e-mail from the director of gender issues for Focus on the Family, Melissa Fryrear. In a very gracious and humble way, Melissa said I really didn't represent well the "tremendous message of redeeming grace" to complement my strong message of biblical truth on homosexuality.
And after re-reading my post, I agreed with her. So I took it down. Then I asked her to write a post on balancing truth and grace when speaking about homosexuality.
Here's what she wrote:
* * *What comes to mind when you consider the concept of Truth? Perhaps synonyms like fact, reality, certainty, precision, or exactness. What about Grace? What comes to mind when you consider this concept? Perhaps synonyms like kindness, mercy, benevolence, leniency, or compassion. Without a doubt, what does come to mind is intricately connected to your worldview.
Because Focus on the Family is a Christian ministry, for us Truth refers to God's reliable message and Grace refers to the undeserved goodwill God extends to humankind. It other words, Truth and Grace always need to go together. This is especially important for Christians to keep in mind when they participate in dialogues related to homosexuality.
OK, now that I've mentioned one of the most ardently debated and emotionally charged issues of our day, let me first share why issues related to homosexuality are so personally significant to me.
Twenty years ago I was a liberal, anti-Christian, card-carrying feminist who celebrated a lesbian identity (and subsequently lived homosexually for a decade). Today I am a conservative, evangelical Christian woman and heterosexual. (Yes, you read all that correctly!) I'm also privileged to serve as the director of Focus on the Family's Gender Issues Department which, among other responsibilities, hosts Focus' Love Won Out conference. It probably comes as no surprise then why I have such a keen interest in issues surrounding homosexuality, especially as those issues relate to Christianity and to Christians in particular.
Through the years I’ve seen Christians respond to issues surrounding homosexuality either by forfeiting truth or forfeiting grace. In other words, some Christians lean so heavily toward God’s truth that they lack any compassion for those who struggle with unwanted same-sex attraction or those who identify as gay or lesbian. Or other Christians lean so heavily toward God's grace that they abandon the biblical mandate regarding sexual behavior. Both of these extreme responses are less than ideal.
There is a better response and Jesus Christ, of course, provides the perfect example.
You may recall in John's gospel that he describes Jesus as being full of both truth and grace: "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14). That's the best response -- balancing both truth and grace.
Given that I have a personal history related to homosexuality, I am especially passionate about sharing unashamedly what Jesus Christ has done in my life -- first for eternally saving me and second for so radically transforming my life.
I'm also passionate about helping Christian families that are directly affected by homosexuality -- moms and dads who have a son or daughter living homosexually; men and women desiring to overcome unwanted same-sex attraction; and other family members and friends who have a loved one identifying as gay or lesbian.
It's also my heart's cry that those who do not yet know Christ personally will hear and learn about Him and as a result one day make the most important decision of their life by accepting Him as their personal Savior and Lord.
And I am committed to helping equip Christians to balance biblical truth regarding sexuality with Christ’s compassion toward those who are living outside of it.
And here we come full circle.
Christians have a right, even a responsibility, to proclaim (and sometimes defend) the biblical sexual ethic meaning God's created intent for gender, sexuality and marriage. And how Christians do this is just as important meaning our attitude and tone must be one of gentleness, compassion and love.
Lest Christians forget ... we all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way (Isaiah 53:6) and it's God's kindness that leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4). As God has been gracious to minister the truth of His Word with compassionate love in each of our lives, may we emulate Him and minister to others in similar fashion.
We can never forfeit one for the other; the answer is always both truth and grace.
There have been a lot of comments on Motte's post about Christians supporting gay marriage. Not surprising. People have strong feelings about this issue on both sides -- just like people have strong opinions about abortion or political parties. Whenever we publish posts like this, people react passionately.
What I would like to do in this post is remind everyone that when we talk about homosexuals, we are dealing with real people, real feelings and real struggles.
This is not to say that we can avoid pointing out that some things are right and some things are wrong. The Bible says that lying, adultery, slander, unforgiveness and homosexual acts are sinful. But here's the catch: Many of us know (or fit the description of) a liar, a gossip, a person who harbors bitterness, or someone who is a practicing homosexual. We know people who sin, we are people who sin, and we know people who refuse to reject their sinful behavior. I refuse to reject mine almost every day in one way or another. And in spite of the fact that we know sinners or are sinners, people continue to love us, pray for us and support us.
We published a TrueU article awhile back from a woman who's sister is gay. She's struggled with the idea of, "love the sinner, hate the sin." What does that look like when dealing with your sister and her girlfriend? How does she show love to her sister but "hate" her lifestyle? What does that even mean? Is it possible -- is it right? There were days when I'd take out my frustrations on the dishes in the kitchen sink, slamming pots and pans and offering only curt, one-word answers to Genevieve's genuine questions about my day. Sometimes, I'd try to overcompensate by greeting the happy couple with a syrupy hello, cooing over their new sweaters and grilling up something fabulous for dinner. Whenever I tried to hate Claire's sin, it felt like I was hating her, too. Finally, I just gave up — avoiding home by staying out as late as possible before crawling beneath the covers in a puddle of tears, clueless about what God wanted me to do. It was just easier that way.
Sure, we had tons of heart-to-heart talks. But Claire didn't seem care about my concerns. She saw judgment in my tears. She didn't understand why I couldn't just accept her for who she was, or at least understand that it was her house, too. She had her own bedroom. She paid half rent. The world and the living room were fair game for the both of us — even though we stood on completely different moral carpet. Just what would Jesus do, anyway?
The author's sister felt that her homosexuality was part of who she was. She felt judged by her sister's distress. The author had to come to terms with loving her sister simply because we've been commanded to love, and also because it opened more doors. Opinions and lectures pale in comparison to genuinely loving the people around us, especially when the people we're dealing with are struggling with attractions they didn't choose: My father once pointed out to me that Jesus was nailed to the cross for our sin — everything from the little white lies to the most vicious crimes. From the casual fibber to the murderer behind bars, we've each taken our turn banging in the same nails. It might be said that the only difference between the two sinners is that one is outward and honest with his shortcomings … while the other gets up every morning and lies about it. While I'm busy pretending, Jesus doesn't trouble the Father with petty questions about whether or not it's permissible to be in the same room with me. In fact, even when I shut Him out, He keeps knocking on my door.
Paul tells us in Galatians 5:6 that in this lifetime, "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love" (NIV). My sister was well aware of what I thought, where I stood, and all the whys that fell between the cracks. She'd heard my speeches; we'd been over the rules. But at the end of the day, the one thing that fills in the gaps is sharing my faith — time, after time, after time — through love. Not lectures. Not disgusted looks. Not childlike tantrums.
"Faith expressing itself through love." That's what we've been asked to do. This doesn't mean we don't vote or that we always avoid voicing our opinions. But remember that it's Christ's expression of love that draws us to Himself and causes us to realize that our own efforts are hopelessly tainted without Him.
I've purposely avoided talking about courts or laws or civil unions or agendas in this post. I want to remind all of us -- including myself -- that we all struggle in one way or another. We are all hopeless without Christ. We've been asked to love God and our neighbor -- even our gay neighbor. Let's make an effort to focus on doing that through our actions and the tone of our conversations. Let's not set out with a plan of accusation, instead let's move forward with the great commandments.
Two 16-year-olds. One who spends time with "Sex and the City." And one who spends time with Scripture.
In the article of hers that we published today on Boundless, "World Friendly," Suzanne Hadley explains that the media we consume affects us, whether we acknowledge it or not, whether we like it or not.
Is it coincidence that the teen who watches "Sex and the City" is posing semi-nude on magazine covers? Is it coincidence that the teen who studies Scripture is making a difference by involving himself with the global anti-slavery movement?
As Suzanne points out, she's not judging anyone, not dismissing them as "a sinner." I'm not either. We're all sinners. But perhaps we can learn from these two teens, perhaps making a connection between behavior and media habits.
"You are what you eat," some say. "Garbage in, garbage out," they say. I, for one, want to do better; I want to ingest good things.
* * *
The 16-year-old girl mentioned above is Miley Cyrus, as you likely know. She went along with the semi-nude photo shoot because she was under the impression that it "was supposed to be 'artistic.'"
I've wondered for a long time how unclothed bodies became "artistic," and therefore acceptable for public viewing, even promoted as virtuous pieces of culture for the enlightened among us. I'm reminded that Adam and Eve covered their naked bodies, and God also provided coverings for their bodies. The beauty and holiness of their bodies was no longer to be displayed for all the world to see, but was to be hidden, perhaps like the precious Ark of the Covenant was hidden within the Holy of Holies for only the High Priest to view.
Modestly Yours elaborates: For some reason nudity, when presented as art, seems to get a free pass, even for wholesome young girls like Miley Cyrus. The argument, I believe, goes "art is 'cultured' and how could anything 'cultured' be bad?" Be even the most artistic, tastefully done nude photograph, while surely a step up from overtly trashy pornography, is still publicized nudity and therefore problematic in my mind.
Like the artists of the world, I believe that the human body is a beautiful thing. However, just because something is beautiful doesn't mean it needs to be shared with everyone. Under the guise of art, we've been led to believe that you can separate a body from a person. That you can appreciate the form itself while ignoring the essence contained within it. But body and soul are inseparable. And when a body is revealed in such a complete way, not everyone will cherish the soul that comes with it.
One insightful commenter replied, "Every artistic nude is tasteful -- until a slobbering, leering, horny person finds it exactly to his -- or her -- 'taste'. Then it's degrading and embarrassing."
* * *
I really should have split this one blog post into two, since it's really about two separate issues: media discernment and the effects of media on our character and behavior, and the appropriateness of public "artistic" nudity. I look forward to seeing which receives more comments.
HT: The Point
Some people have too much time on their hands, like these guys.
A few years ago the Swiss government asked an ethics panel to consider "plant dignity." So the Swiss Federal Ethics Committee on Non-Human Biotechnology got together and produced the "Dignity of Living Beings with Regard to Plants" report.
Here's the gist of the report from The Weekly Standard's "The Silent Scream of the Asparagus": A "clear majority" of the panel adopted what it called a "biocentric" moral view, meaning that "living organisms should be considered morally for their own sake because they are alive." Thus, the panel determined that we cannot claim "absolute ownership" over plants and, moreover, that "individual plants have an inherent worth." This means that "we may not use them just as we please, even if the plant community is not in danger, or if our actions do not endanger the species, or if we are not acting arbitrarily."
There's a lot to unpack here. But my mind immediately went to the issue of abortion. Consider the implication of language like, "living organisms should be considered morally for their own sake" and "individual plants have an inherent worth" and "we may not use them as we please." It appears the Swiss want to assign more value to plants than Americans currently give pre-born babies.
It shows you just how distorted human reason can become with an ever declining Judeo-Christian influence.
Our self interest makes the world go 'round. That's the understanding of how most markets work. In The Wealth of Nations, Adam Smith made his argument about "the invisible hand" of self interest that drives our economic system. He wrote: It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest. We address ourselves, not to their humanity but to their self-love, and never talk to them of our necessities but of their advantages.
If we were to look pragmatically at our lives, we'd recognize that many of our decisions about our work, our education, our free time, and so forth is guided by an invisible hand of self-interest. Though we'd rarely admit it, even the things we feel called to do as Christians often get filtered through the question, "What's in it for me?"
Or maybe I'm the only person who's thought that. Maybe I'm the only person who has stopped to calculate what recognition and even what compensation I could get from various promptings I feel toward ministry opportunities.
Which is why I've appreciated Gary Thomas's book The Beautiful Fight. On my second pass through the book this morning, I spent some time praying about Gary's point on page 122 that "The point of Christian ministry is not personal fulfillment." He goes on to say: It is not to gain a sense of importance, relevance or significance. The primary purpose of having hands and feet that reach out to others is to display God's glory. This reality necessitates a focus on God's empowerment as opposed to human giftedness.
I know this kind of Christianity 101, but this can be a quite a struggle to put into practice. While Adam Smith is saying on one hand that it is self interest that guides most of our actions, Gary Thomas is saying that our calling as Christians should not be about what's in it for us, but how God can be glorified.
Gary goes on to explain that what we do out of a desire for importance, relevance or significance will only go so far, but that when we seek to glorify God, he can do more through us than we could have ever done in our own strength and wisdom. "Your limitations can bring glory to God as they provide platforms for him to do something that has no other explanation but God," Thomas writes.
So, question for discussion: How can we as Christians do all to the glory of God while living in a world where everything seems to function on the motivations of our self interest?
I was in a Christian bookstore the other day and saw a key chain that read: "It is Yoo Hoo He died for." I giggled at the use of a chocolate milk brand to tout Christianity. In her review of Rapture Ready!, Slate writer Hanna Rosin considers the strange world of Christian subculture. She notes: At this point in history, American evangelicals resemble the Israelites at various dangerous moments in the Old Testament: They are blending into the surrounding heathen culture, and having ever more trouble figuring out where it ends and they begin. In politics, and in business, they've mostly gone ahead and joined the existing networks. With pop culture, they've instead created their own enormous "parallel universe," as Daniel Radosh calls it in his rich exploration of the realm, Rapture Ready! A Christian can now buy books, movies, music—and anything else lowbrow to middlebrow—tailor-made for his or her sensibilities. Worried that American popular culture leads people—and especially teenagers—astray, the Christian version is designed to satisfy all the same needs in a cleaner form.
Growing up in a Christian home and attending a Christian college, I've experienced my share of Christian subculture. I listened to Christian music, owned a "witness wear" t-shirt and even wore a WWJD bracelet. While I believe these things strengthened my identity with Christ at the time, I can see how they could have appeared silly to outsiders. Rosin writes on the advent of Christian subculture: In the '80s, Christians were known as the boycotters, refusing to see movies or buy products that offended them. They felt about commercial culture much the way a Marxist might: that it was a decadent glorification of money and meaningless human relationships. Then, sometime during the '90s, when conservative evangelicals started coming out of their shells, they took a different tack. The boycotters became coopters and embarked on the curious quest to enlist America's crassest material culture in the service of spiritual growth.
I'm wary of this blending of Christianity and culture to produce a brand. At the same time I wonder what would be a more effective approach. Aren't wholesome, biblically-based alternatives for teens a good thing? Honestly, I believe that Brio magazine (an alternative to mags like Seventeen and Sassy) sustained me through my teen years.
However, there is a fine line. We certainly don't want to be the money changers in the temple—leveraging Christian products for financial gain. Neither do we want to give teens and children a warped view of faith in Christ—as a sub-par way of doing life. Rosin writes: For faith, the results can be dangerous. A young Christian can get the idea that her religion is a tinny, desperate thing that can't compete with the secular culture.
Reducing Christianity to a sickly brand is not only detrimental to the cause of Christ but just plain wrong. Still, quality Christian products can and have changed lives. Maybe the key is to consistently renounce the silly and champion the inspired, and ask God to grant us the wisdom to see the difference.
Tim Challies offers a good review of Rapture Ready! on his blog.
Hans Christian Andersen knew a thing or two about human nature, but I wonder if he could have imagined the insanity of today's scammers and swindlers.
I just read about the newest must-have watch manufactured by Geneva's finest. This fine timepiece is not for ordinary mortals, who might actually need to know the time. No, this watch is for the rarified breed of people who need not concern themselves with such petty matters as what hour it might happen to be; no, they merely need to know if it's day or night. As the sales copy so elegantly puts it, this timepiece splits "the universe of time into two fundamentally opposing sections: day versus night."
Wow, who could resist?
Well, I could, seeing as they want $300,000 for this glorified hunk of metal. Oh, and also because I happen to have windows in my house.
Reading about his reminded me of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Masque of the Red Death." The people this watch appeals to are locked away in their safe castles, thinking the destruction of the world will pass them by. They do not see that death is walking among us every day. But such has always been the case, and still we never learn.
Copyright 2009 Focus on the Family. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. The Line and Boundless Line are trademarks of Focus on the Family.
|
Recent Comments