Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Monkey See, Monkey Do
(Okay, this post is an interesting exercise in trying to be coherent while feverish. Must remember not to write about the flying purple monkeys.)
Lately I've been thinking about a former pastor "Xavier" I knew. He was a gifted communicator who had a passion for helping people know God. I still remember some of the very practical suggestions he made for how to communicate the gospel to the world. I remember him sharing about trying to decide whether or not to make his teachings available, and appreciating his hesitation between not putting himself forward and his desire to make God's message available.
A couple years later, he was removed from the pastorate by his church for adultery with another church member.
There's something in Xavier's story that captures both the best and worst about influence. I find influencing people one of the coolest - and scariest - aspects of community. In its best form, we use influence to teach wisdom, give strength, and motivate toward better choices. At its worst, our influence desensitizes others, encourages others to mimic our wrong doing, and warps people's views of reality. Mother Teresa vs. David Koresh.
Despite its risks, I believe mentorship is fundamentally important in life. While trial by error has its benefits, it is a remarkable slow and ineffective method. I've particularly been thinking about mentorship in connection to knowing God better. Many of these thoughts directly revolve a tendency I've seen - and done frequently myself: To put someone on a pedestal and be unable to see their struggles. I think it is pretty easy (for me, at least)to idolize those I see as more spiritual. It's also easy to dismiss those who I see as less spiritual without considering if they see a truth I'm missing. Here's some of my musings:
- Which beliefs am I qualified to pass on to others? Does great strength of conviction equal the right to pass the belief on?
- How do I avoid passing on my own weaknesses to others? How do I learn to see the weaknesses in my mentors' lives?
- How do I encourage others to not idolize other Christians generating a church gossip mill? How do I encourage others not to idolize me?
Lately I've been thinking about a former pastor "Xavier" I knew. He was a gifted communicator who had a passion for helping people know God. I still remember some of the very practical suggestions he made for how to communicate the gospel to the world. I remember him sharing about trying to decide whether or not to make his teachings available, and appreciating his hesitation between not putting himself forward and his desire to make God's message available.
A couple years later, he was removed from the pastorate by his church for adultery with another church member.
There's something in Xavier's story that captures both the best and worst about influence. I find influencing people one of the coolest - and scariest - aspects of community. In its best form, we use influence to teach wisdom, give strength, and motivate toward better choices. At its worst, our influence desensitizes others, encourages others to mimic our wrong doing, and warps people's views of reality. Mother Teresa vs. David Koresh.
Despite its risks, I believe mentorship is fundamentally important in life. While trial by error has its benefits, it is a remarkable slow and ineffective method. I've particularly been thinking about mentorship in connection to knowing God better. Many of these thoughts directly revolve a tendency I've seen - and done frequently myself: To put someone on a pedestal and be unable to see their struggles. I think it is pretty easy (for me, at least)to idolize those I see as more spiritual. It's also easy to dismiss those who I see as less spiritual without considering if they see a truth I'm missing. Here's some of my musings:
- Which beliefs am I qualified to pass on to others? Does great strength of conviction equal the right to pass the belief on?
- How do I avoid passing on my own weaknesses to others? How do I learn to see the weaknesses in my mentors' lives?
- How do I encourage others to not idolize other Christians generating a church gossip mill? How do I encourage others not to idolize me?
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Work / Time
In several of my circles, "spiritual leadership" is the hot phrase. Its meaning is similar to the "leadership" buzzword so popular today, except applied to spiritual matters. I made the mistake of using the phrase the other day to a friend, who promptly asked me "So what is spiritual leadership?" And I had the privilege of sitting there with a blank expression while I tried to sort out what the phrase meant. Eventually, I'm sure my musings will wander to the dangerous turf of male-female relationships, and I'll get ample opportunity to irritate both my liberal and conservative readership.
But for tonight, I'm thinking about the fundamental aspect of leadership: Leadership is the exercise or restraint of power. Here's some power most of us have - and restrain - on a daily basis:
- Make a stranger cry by telling her she's fat.
- Ruin a boss' day and walk out on the job.
- Ruin a random stranger's day by smashing their windshield with a sledgehammer.
- Ruin someone's life by driving your car into theirs at high speed. (Even driving large vans at low speeds can be mildly traumatic.)
Don't get me wrong. I'm glad we don't exercise these powers. But I tend to forget what power is mine. One quality I often appreciate about my liberal friends is that they are (generally) more sensitive to the collective power and wrongs of the society, and individual contribution toward those wrongs. They look at the societal treatment of women, the poor, or the environment, and can clearly see the significant abuses of power happening.
My impression is that as Americans, we are a bit uncomfortable with spirituality involving power management. We're not comfortable with power differentials within society: We're mostly trained to be individuals, and to be in control of our own life. We're a democracy, not a kingdom. We don't have nobles or serfs. We don't need to be apprentices to learn a trade. In fact, my generation is one of the first to be able to acquire knowledge without the assistance of someone older. Even our lawsuit minded-approach to problems revolves around the premise: I have the right and power to get my way.
Very few aspects of American life require us to put our wellbeing in someone else's hands. Graduate students may come close with their advisors: Until your advisor is satisfied with your research, one is (mostly) stuck. The army is another such aspect. But by and large, our lives maintain the appearance of being independent of others.
At its heart, though, I think spiritual leadership is about power: What power do I choose to give up to God? What power do I choose to give to others? What power do I choose not to use? What power do I choose to use? Peter writes this:
(As a side note, I find this concept of men being under authority is very relevant to the male-female gender role discussion. The fact that many men choose to ignore it is another topic all together...)
But for tonight, I'm thinking about the fundamental aspect of leadership: Leadership is the exercise or restraint of power. Here's some power most of us have - and restrain - on a daily basis:
- Make a stranger cry by telling her she's fat.
- Ruin a boss' day and walk out on the job.
- Ruin a random stranger's day by smashing their windshield with a sledgehammer.
- Ruin someone's life by driving your car into theirs at high speed. (Even driving large vans at low speeds can be mildly traumatic.)
Don't get me wrong. I'm glad we don't exercise these powers. But I tend to forget what power is mine. One quality I often appreciate about my liberal friends is that they are (generally) more sensitive to the collective power and wrongs of the society, and individual contribution toward those wrongs. They look at the societal treatment of women, the poor, or the environment, and can clearly see the significant abuses of power happening.
My impression is that as Americans, we are a bit uncomfortable with spirituality involving power management. We're not comfortable with power differentials within society: We're mostly trained to be individuals, and to be in control of our own life. We're a democracy, not a kingdom. We don't have nobles or serfs. We don't need to be apprentices to learn a trade. In fact, my generation is one of the first to be able to acquire knowledge without the assistance of someone older. Even our lawsuit minded-approach to problems revolves around the premise: I have the right and power to get my way.
Very few aspects of American life require us to put our wellbeing in someone else's hands. Graduate students may come close with their advisors: Until your advisor is satisfied with your research, one is (mostly) stuck. The army is another such aspect. But by and large, our lives maintain the appearance of being independent of others.
At its heart, though, I think spiritual leadership is about power: What power do I choose to give up to God? What power do I choose to give to others? What power do I choose not to use? What power do I choose to use? Peter writes this:
Young men, in the same way be submissive to those who are older.Wow. It is constructive (for me) to look at the context to figure out what Peter means by "in the same way". It is not a very American idea today. American tends to portray its olders as being a bit old-fashioned, a bit out of touch, a bit conservative. And American encourages young men to blaze their own trail and to live their own dream. I wonder how many young men have sat down with their pastor, looked him in the eye, and asked "How can I make you successful?" And how many of those men have then been willing to be faithful to making that pastor succeed?
(As a side note, I find this concept of men being under authority is very relevant to the male-female gender role discussion. The fact that many men choose to ignore it is another topic all together...)
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Another Brief Interlude
Blogging has not been going well recently, I can't seem to structure my thoughts into sensible English. I have a half written blog on Mario Cart & wisdom, but it won't finish, not even after a 4hr nap.
I did finally have a few thoughts about what genuine leadership means. Here's a few of them.
- Helping others be successful. And I don't mean helping others be successful so that they help you be successful. I mean, helping others to be successful even when it doesn't benefit you at all. This thought sounds trivial, but it isn't. We (I, at least) naturally think about what we want to accomplish. My career. My marriage. My ministry. My children. I don't naturally or easily think about what it takes for others to be successful. To make a good husband. To have a good job. To be an effective friend to others. To consistently serve others without expecting in return, without burning out, or feeling bitter about others not serving you is a rare trait indeed.
- Leadership is the character to stick to conviction despite strong desire (or fear) to do otherwise. Most of us naturally do the right thing in at least a few areas of our life. (A few of us are gifted at consistently doing everything wrong.) I'm not really tempted by alcohol. That's great. I don't even really like much of it. That's too bad as I'm missing out. But it doesn't say much about my leadership or character that I stick to my convictions on moderation and don't drink to excess.
Sticking to conviction (or even reaching conviction) is far harder for Christians in their 20s in, say, the area of relationships. When the desire to be in a relationship clashes with the conviction of dating only Christians. When passion for a person clashes with the conviction of dating only for marriage. When fear of loneliness clashes with wisdom in who to date. When the fear of permanent singleness meets with an available and interested other. These are the tests of character.
It's funny. I think I used to think that leadership was the ability to do the right thing because of the absence of desire or fear. Increasingly, I think it is doing the right thing despite desire or fear. (Or perhaps, the desire for God being stronger than any opposing desires or fears.) In hindsight, I think I liked my Vulcan approach better. It was much easier to be successful at.
Random thoughts:
1. This is also a thought provoking look at time.
2. Why does the spell checker want to replace 'blogging' with 'flogging'? One day I am going to hit 'replace' and it will be a hilarious blog entry.
I did finally have a few thoughts about what genuine leadership means. Here's a few of them.
- Helping others be successful. And I don't mean helping others be successful so that they help you be successful. I mean, helping others to be successful even when it doesn't benefit you at all. This thought sounds trivial, but it isn't. We (I, at least) naturally think about what we want to accomplish. My career. My marriage. My ministry. My children. I don't naturally or easily think about what it takes for others to be successful. To make a good husband. To have a good job. To be an effective friend to others. To consistently serve others without expecting in return, without burning out, or feeling bitter about others not serving you is a rare trait indeed.
- Leadership is the character to stick to conviction despite strong desire (or fear) to do otherwise. Most of us naturally do the right thing in at least a few areas of our life. (A few of us are gifted at consistently doing everything wrong.) I'm not really tempted by alcohol. That's great. I don't even really like much of it. That's too bad as I'm missing out. But it doesn't say much about my leadership or character that I stick to my convictions on moderation and don't drink to excess.
Sticking to conviction (or even reaching conviction) is far harder for Christians in their 20s in, say, the area of relationships. When the desire to be in a relationship clashes with the conviction of dating only Christians. When passion for a person clashes with the conviction of dating only for marriage. When fear of loneliness clashes with wisdom in who to date. When the fear of permanent singleness meets with an available and interested other. These are the tests of character.
It's funny. I think I used to think that leadership was the ability to do the right thing because of the absence of desire or fear. Increasingly, I think it is doing the right thing despite desire or fear. (Or perhaps, the desire for God being stronger than any opposing desires or fears.) In hindsight, I think I liked my Vulcan approach better. It was much easier to be successful at.
Random thoughts:
1. This is also a thought provoking look at time.
2. Why does the spell checker want to replace 'blogging' with 'flogging'? One day I am going to hit 'replace' and it will be a hilarious blog entry.
Friday, November 18, 2005
A Brief Interlude
There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death.I overheard a coffeeshop conversation recently. The gist of the conversation was a couple new fathers talking about the difficulty of parenting. One of them commented on some expert or another "Nobody really knows - advice is just there to make insecure parents feel better. You're doing just fine."
I'm not a parenting expert (yet). But the conversation reminded me that we often aren't very good at foreseeing the consequences of our actions. We draw on our experiences, our successes, our failures, and we make our best guess. And it seems good. Or at least right. It's more (or less) worked for us in the past.
And yet somehow our brilliant path leads us to set defenses against people, or to pass on our weaknesses to our children, or to hurt the ones we love. Sometimes we see it and feel guilty, but don't feel like we have any choices. Sometimes we're just oblivious to it.
Perhaps I'm particularly about this path thing because it seems like God's been saying "no" much louder than I expected in a number of ways. The path is different, less comfortable, and away from what I wanted - or even expected. And I'm not very good at remembering that my way may be fundamentally flawed, despite my best efforts.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
It's Sortof Okay to Mess Up
So a couple months ago I did something mindlessly stupid. Let X represent the incredible stupid action. Let's let 'Alfred' be the unfortunate primary victim of X. I knew about 1.31459 seconds after I did X that it was stupid and hurtful. (This entry is not meant to imply that only one such X has occurred in the last 2 months, just that one is on my mind.) X wasn't really something I could apologize for without simply making the situation worse. (And yes, I know, this sounds unbelievable. Such are the oddities of the modern era.)
Anyway, I recently ran into Alfred and we talked (a bit) about X. Probably not enough, but enough for me to realize that I probably have not ruined every waking moment of Alfred's life. Yes, for those of you wondering, that is a Good Idea (TM).
Running into Alfred has me thinking about the ways people (especially me) try and justify ourselves when we're wrong, and what I think the proper response is.
Line 1:
At the moment, my mind is contemplating two thoughts:
1. It is not okay to be wrong. None of the above lines are entirely true, although there is some truth in most of them.
2. As a Christian, I am okay even when wrong because Jesus died to make me right with God. I think as a culture, we tried and think it terms of I'm okay because I haven't messed up tooo badly. I do, at least. This idea means when I reach some level of severe messing up, I'm not okay any more. Let's call this level 'U', and the okay level of messing up level 'A'.
This idea that I'm not okay unless I'm behaving at level A also means that I can't really consider the possibility that I consistently think or behave at level U without having a major nervous meltdown.
In contrast, as I really grasp and believe that I'm okay because of what Jesus did for me, I'm free to examine who I really am and who God wants me to become. It is too bad that I only tend to grow in my understanding of my identity in Jesus as I am having a nervous breakdown. I could definitely improve my process here.
Anyway, I recently ran into Alfred and we talked (a bit) about X. Probably not enough, but enough for me to realize that I probably have not ruined every waking moment of Alfred's life. Yes, for those of you wondering, that is a Good Idea (TM).
Running into Alfred has me thinking about the ways people (especially me) try and justify ourselves when we're wrong, and what I think the proper response is.
Line 1:
It doesn't really matter. I didn't really hurt Alfred. He shouldn't be so sensitive to X. I'm okay because it is not my fault.Line 2:
It doesn't matter because I'm human. I didn't catch the consequences of my actions, but I'm not expected to. It's unreasonable to think I should never do something thoughtlessly that hurts someone else. I'm okay because I'm doing what is reasonable.Line 3:
I can't help it. I've tried to be more thoughtful, more compassionate, more caring, but I just don't change. I'm okay because I'm doing my best.Line 4: (and my personal favorite)
I don't care. Too bad that Alfred is hurt. Too bad that others are pushed away by me. I just don't care. I'm okay because I'm not emotionally impacted.(I wanted to use affected instead of impacted, but I'm afraid my English-teaching-play-quoting-grammar-fiend-friend would yell at me because it ought to be effected.)
At the moment, my mind is contemplating two thoughts:
1. It is not okay to be wrong. None of the above lines are entirely true, although there is some truth in most of them.
2. As a Christian, I am okay even when wrong because Jesus died to make me right with God. I think as a culture, we tried and think it terms of I'm okay because I haven't messed up tooo badly. I do, at least. This idea means when I reach some level of severe messing up, I'm not okay any more. Let's call this level 'U', and the okay level of messing up level 'A'.
This idea that I'm not okay unless I'm behaving at level A also means that I can't really consider the possibility that I consistently think or behave at level U without having a major nervous meltdown.
In contrast, as I really grasp and believe that I'm okay because of what Jesus did for me, I'm free to examine who I really am and who God wants me to become. It is too bad that I only tend to grow in my understanding of my identity in Jesus as I am having a nervous breakdown. I could definitely improve my process here.
If I'm Ever a Nationally Known Christian Speaker
This is really scary (for those of you who didn't catch the first round of coverage). It really frustrates me to see God misrepresented. The real tragedy is that it probably makes Christians look pretty stupid. I wonder if many people really buy the his outlook on God.
Here's a few thoughts, though, if I ever get to be a nationally quoted speaker for Jesus:
- If I'm going to predict disaster upon a city, I will have a high tech doomsday device (e.g. Deathstar) under my command with which to inflict said disaster.
- Prior to making random announcements about my deity's unwillingness to forgive or assist the rebellious, I will consult appropriate religious texts for contradictory stories. Such stories will be disowned prior to my announcements.
- I will pay special attention to stories about prior prophets named Jonah who run in the opposite direction because he so wanted disaster to be visited upon a city that he avoided going to it so that the inhabitants could not hear of their danger, repent, and have God show compassion.
- If said stories exist and I wish to see wrath, I will keep my mouth shut and laugh afterward. (I will first investigate whether my deity says anything about gloating in my enemy's misfortune.)
- If said stories exist and I wish to see mercy, I shall appear to provide the warnings of impending doom with much sorrow and contrition, all the better to earn the hearing of my audience.
- I shall consider the possibility that my deity is fickle and often does not express his wrath despite egregious provocation. If I do not know what my deity is going to do, I will not make vague pronouncements such as "My deity may or may not express his wrath somewhere in the world in some form involving suffering."
- I shall bear in mind that my deity may take badly to certain forms of misrepresentation. I will investigate what my deity cares about prior to seeking national fame. Should I achieve national fame prior to completing my inquiry, I shall sprinkle my comments liberally with phrases such as "In my understanding..."
- My advisors shall include an atheist, several arrogant teenagers, and a Wolverine. Any prepared comments that cause any of my advisors to dissolve into uncontrollable fits of laughter shall be rewritten.
- All comments shall be prepared.
(For the bored, this is funny.)
Here's a few thoughts, though, if I ever get to be a nationally quoted speaker for Jesus:
- If I'm going to predict disaster upon a city, I will have a high tech doomsday device (e.g. Deathstar) under my command with which to inflict said disaster.
- Prior to making random announcements about my deity's unwillingness to forgive or assist the rebellious, I will consult appropriate religious texts for contradictory stories. Such stories will be disowned prior to my announcements.
- I will pay special attention to stories about prior prophets named Jonah who run in the opposite direction because he so wanted disaster to be visited upon a city that he avoided going to it so that the inhabitants could not hear of their danger, repent, and have God show compassion.
- If said stories exist and I wish to see wrath, I will keep my mouth shut and laugh afterward. (I will first investigate whether my deity says anything about gloating in my enemy's misfortune.)
- If said stories exist and I wish to see mercy, I shall appear to provide the warnings of impending doom with much sorrow and contrition, all the better to earn the hearing of my audience.
- I shall consider the possibility that my deity is fickle and often does not express his wrath despite egregious provocation. If I do not know what my deity is going to do, I will not make vague pronouncements such as "My deity may or may not express his wrath somewhere in the world in some form involving suffering."
- I shall bear in mind that my deity may take badly to certain forms of misrepresentation. I will investigate what my deity cares about prior to seeking national fame. Should I achieve national fame prior to completing my inquiry, I shall sprinkle my comments liberally with phrases such as "In my understanding..."
- My advisors shall include an atheist, several arrogant teenagers, and a Wolverine. Any prepared comments that cause any of my advisors to dissolve into uncontrollable fits of laughter shall be rewritten.
- All comments shall be prepared.
(For the bored, this is funny.)
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
A Brief Interlude
Well, I've made very little progress pondering influence, power, and servant leadership of late, so that post is not happening tonight. I have been thinking about
So instead I'm posting a paraphrase of a friend's comment. (Reposted with permission; details changed to protect his identity from the hordes of online stalkers who visit this blog.) He's 35, a passionate liberal, especially about environmental issues. (Also posted with permission.)
I wonder if I am just fooling myself with fancy language while not really making the necessary commitment to really changing the way I live, the way I talk, the way I think, the way I interact to genuinely know Jesus. In some ways I think it would be easier to be a pastor - then, at least, I would get paid to "be spiritual". It might not be any more godly, but at least people could say "Oh him? He's a pastor - he's really working to accomplish something for God." If I'm not going to live the authentic Christian life, a false one that earns the praise of men seems like a really attractive substitute.
He who answers before listening, that is his folly and his shameafter some rather spectacular failures on my part to listen adequately lately before jumping in with my thoughts, but I'm not feeling too much like embarrassing myself tonight.
So instead I'm posting a paraphrase of a friend's comment. (Reposted with permission; details changed to protect his identity from the hordes of online stalkers who visit this blog.) He's 35, a passionate liberal, especially about environmental issues. (Also posted with permission.)
Have you ever set back and pondered if you are accomplishing your rhetoric? I remember attending rallies and conferences in college where we talked about how America needed to change. How our policies were destroying us from within. Fifteen years later, I don't know if I'm really pursuing a radical new America. Would the college students today recognize me as setting a standard for progress? I feel too comfortable in my house with my wife and children. For the first time, I recently considered buying a gas-guzzling SUV for family trips up north to see my parents. My house looks like most of my neighbors. The only time I really know their political stance is during elections when signs litter our lawns. I wonder if the Republicans are just more honest about enjoying flagrant wealth and consumerism while I protest too much. Am I really different than them?I think the comment stuck in my mind because I've been playing with the same questions with my faith. The Bible is filled with radical vision for life. Light upon the hill. Ambassadors for God. Holy priests. We talk about people seeing God through us. And yet when the day to day routine of life kicks in, I wonder how differently I really live.
I wonder if I am just fooling myself with fancy language while not really making the necessary commitment to really changing the way I live, the way I talk, the way I think, the way I interact to genuinely know Jesus. In some ways I think it would be easier to be a pastor - then, at least, I would get paid to "be spiritual". It might not be any more godly, but at least people could say "Oh him? He's a pastor - he's really working to accomplish something for God." If I'm not going to live the authentic Christian life, a false one that earns the praise of men seems like a really attractive substitute.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
I Need a Hat
Well, I'm supposed to be in bed about 12 minutes ago for my goal of 9 hours of sleep and avoiding my caffeine deprivation headache tomorrow. (I drank caffeine today to put off the headache today.)
But, two quick notes: First, I want a cool hat. I keep being around lulls in conversations where everyone just sits and stares at each other. So I think I need a cool hat - maybe an Abe Lincoln stove pipe hat which friends can put conversation starting questions into. Then when the lulls occur, I can fish out a question and presto, a topic. (And I need questions too.)
Meanwhile I'm trying to put together my thoughts on leadership. A friend asked me a while ago what I thought leadership looked like, especially spiritually. And since I was thoroughly unhappy with my answer, I've been tossing it around. We'll see if I can come up with anything good.
But, two quick notes: First, I want a cool hat. I keep being around lulls in conversations where everyone just sits and stares at each other. So I think I need a cool hat - maybe an Abe Lincoln stove pipe hat which friends can put conversation starting questions into. Then when the lulls occur, I can fish out a question and presto, a topic. (And I need questions too.)
Meanwhile I'm trying to put together my thoughts on leadership. A friend asked me a while ago what I thought leadership looked like, especially spiritually. And since I was thoroughly unhappy with my answer, I've been tossing it around. We'll see if I can come up with anything good.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Targeted Teachings
I realized recently that I've had a number of conversations where people have commented on their profound dissatisfaction with their church - or at least pastor - because they have not been getting anything out of the sermons. As a result, I've been thinking about what good teaching is, and the role it plays in a church. Here's some assorted thoughts.
- Sound doctrine is important. Doctrine is roughly equivalent one's charts while navigating a boat. If the charts are bad, the journey may continue uneventfully for a while, but eventually the reef, sandbars, or rocky coast will get you.
- There is such a thing as a bad teachers. Even those with sound doctrine can't necessarily communicate clearly and effectively with others.
- There is such a thing as a bad student. Often when I don't get something out of a sermon, it is because I won't take the time to sit down and ponder it. I also tend to forget that I've been working on another issue for a month and don't really need another can of worms. I certainly won't sit down to a cup of coffee with a close friend and ask "You know, my pastor talked today about pride and arrogance. I'm having a really hard time figuring out how to apply the sermon to my own life - where do you really see me struggling in these areas?"
- I'm not clear that sermons should communicate significant new information to those who have been around church for many years. Newer is not better in matters of teaching: In general, novelty is heresy, not progress. I'm easily tickled by learning a cool idea, but the goal of teaching is that people may live holy lives. Paul writes
- I'm not clear that the target audience of a church should be it's mature members. When the apostles started teaching the 3,000 converts to Christianity after Pentecost, I doubt much information was new to those who had faithfully followed Jesus for three years.
- If a church intends to reach the unchurched (that whole "go and make disciples of all the nations" bit), it probably needs to be able to answer the question: How do we expect our converts to learn the basics of the faith? If the expectation is that the converts will simply hang around until they pick it up, I'm worried. The analogy of new converts is of babies - and babies usually don't thrive being left at the dinner table until they figure out how to eat the scraps of dinner.
- Sermons are not designed to communicate massive amounts of information in and of themselves anyway. 50 Sundays a year with perhaps 45 minutes of teaching each about 38 hours of teaching - or roughly a semester long 3-credit college course. And there are no homework or tests to remind you of the information. This fact is not a bad thing as sermons serve many other (good) purposes, but it does mean that the expectation that sermons are the primary source of doctrinal teaching for a church is probably weak.
I tend to feel pretty defensive when people comment that they aren't getting much out of the sermons. I think my defensiveness largely due to the set of expectations people seem to bring to the table - that the sermon should fit them, their style, and their stage of life. (This goal gets harder, of course, when you get married and both you and your spouse expect the sermon to consistently speak to both of you. And then when the children start attending...)
There's some truth to the issue, of course - church sermons which no one finds relevant aren't very useful. And some sermons are just, well, bad. But I wonder if those of us who have been around the church a long, long time need to encourage sermons which the strangers to the faith find relevant while we seek to apply our greater knowledge more urgently to knowing God, serving him, and being holy.
Here's my desperation list when I really need something to apply in my life:
The "search me" Prayer: God, is there any way in me that is displeasing to you? Search me, O Lord, and cleanse me. (Caution: God does not take this prayer lightly, and tends to respond. There is a parable about counting the costs before embarking on a project...)
Taking a friend out for coffee and asking him what character issues he sees in my life.
Going salsa dancing - or otherwise getting out of my comfort zone.
Spend a night praying about the habits of others that really irritate me (like not getting anything out of sermons) and see if I am doing the same thing to others.
- Sound doctrine is important. Doctrine is roughly equivalent one's charts while navigating a boat. If the charts are bad, the journey may continue uneventfully for a while, but eventually the reef, sandbars, or rocky coast will get you.
- There is such a thing as a bad teachers. Even those with sound doctrine can't necessarily communicate clearly and effectively with others.
- There is such a thing as a bad student. Often when I don't get something out of a sermon, it is because I won't take the time to sit down and ponder it. I also tend to forget that I've been working on another issue for a month and don't really need another can of worms. I certainly won't sit down to a cup of coffee with a close friend and ask "You know, my pastor talked today about pride and arrogance. I'm having a really hard time figuring out how to apply the sermon to my own life - where do you really see me struggling in these areas?"
- I'm not clear that sermons should communicate significant new information to those who have been around church for many years. Newer is not better in matters of teaching: In general, novelty is heresy, not progress. I'm easily tickled by learning a cool idea, but the goal of teaching is that people may live holy lives. Paul writes
"It was he [Jesus] who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ."Teachers are given so that the laity may be prepared. Evangelists are given not to reach the lost, but to prepare the laity. Pastors are given to prepare the laity. The purpose of the preparation is that the laity may become like Christ.
- I'm not clear that the target audience of a church should be it's mature members. When the apostles started teaching the 3,000 converts to Christianity after Pentecost, I doubt much information was new to those who had faithfully followed Jesus for three years.
- If a church intends to reach the unchurched (that whole "go and make disciples of all the nations" bit), it probably needs to be able to answer the question: How do we expect our converts to learn the basics of the faith? If the expectation is that the converts will simply hang around until they pick it up, I'm worried. The analogy of new converts is of babies - and babies usually don't thrive being left at the dinner table until they figure out how to eat the scraps of dinner.
- Sermons are not designed to communicate massive amounts of information in and of themselves anyway. 50 Sundays a year with perhaps 45 minutes of teaching each about 38 hours of teaching - or roughly a semester long 3-credit college course. And there are no homework or tests to remind you of the information. This fact is not a bad thing as sermons serve many other (good) purposes, but it does mean that the expectation that sermons are the primary source of doctrinal teaching for a church is probably weak.
I tend to feel pretty defensive when people comment that they aren't getting much out of the sermons. I think my defensiveness largely due to the set of expectations people seem to bring to the table - that the sermon should fit them, their style, and their stage of life. (This goal gets harder, of course, when you get married and both you and your spouse expect the sermon to consistently speak to both of you. And then when the children start attending...)
There's some truth to the issue, of course - church sermons which no one finds relevant aren't very useful. And some sermons are just, well, bad. But I wonder if those of us who have been around the church a long, long time need to encourage sermons which the strangers to the faith find relevant while we seek to apply our greater knowledge more urgently to knowing God, serving him, and being holy.
Here's my desperation list when I really need something to apply in my life:
The "search me" Prayer: God, is there any way in me that is displeasing to you? Search me, O Lord, and cleanse me. (Caution: God does not take this prayer lightly, and tends to respond. There is a parable about counting the costs before embarking on a project...)
Taking a friend out for coffee and asking him what character issues he sees in my life.
Going salsa dancing - or otherwise getting out of my comfort zone.
Spend a night praying about the habits of others that really irritate me (like not getting anything out of sermons) and see if I am doing the same thing to others.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Dentists, Mechanics, and Deities
So I broke down today and decided to take my car into the mechanic tomorrow to be fixed. (It is not broken yet, but I'm guessing that it will suddenly be broken about 9a tomorrow.) So tonight I'm trying not to dread what bad news the mechanic will have for me. "Sir, if only you had brought this car in a week ago, it would have been a $50 repair. But now, it is going to run you at least $400."
I have a similar reaction toward dentists. (My fear of dentists is actually rational, since I have scary memories of being yelled at as a child for not taking proper care of my teeth. Oh wait, that isn't rational, is it?) I probably would have a similar reaction toward doctors, except that I'm healthy and not suffering any major pain so I can avoid them.
The funny part is that I tend to procrastinate because I don't want to hear bad news, which, of course, tends to make things worse. Or else I become overly sensitive to every little ache and rattle and run around asking myself, "Is this a major problem?"
Sadly, I think I tend to fit God into the category of the bad news bearing expert: He knows how to fix me, but I'm not really sure I want the diagnosis. I'm pretty sure that I don't want to pay the price for fixing the problem, and I'm hoping that if I keep ignoring it, it will go away. Plus the idea of being told by an expert "You are a complete idiot; how could you have messed up your life this badly?" doesn't appeal to me. And no, being told everyone else has done the same errors is not comforting.
Partly, I really, really need to have it hammered home that my attempts to handle life without God are something like trying to fly while free-falling without a parachute: As humiliated as the diagnosis and correction from God may be, and as attractive as sky-diving may be, the landing kills. And if I really care about my life, I'll bite the bullet and deal with God sooner rather than later after more damage has been done.
I also need to rewire my image of the distant hostile expert God to something saner. The cliche phrase I suppose would be "Father."
Now in more pragmatic matters: Perhaps I'd better be a little more careful how I handle people asking for computer help.
I have a similar reaction toward dentists. (My fear of dentists is actually rational, since I have scary memories of being yelled at as a child for not taking proper care of my teeth. Oh wait, that isn't rational, is it?) I probably would have a similar reaction toward doctors, except that I'm healthy and not suffering any major pain so I can avoid them.
The funny part is that I tend to procrastinate because I don't want to hear bad news, which, of course, tends to make things worse. Or else I become overly sensitive to every little ache and rattle and run around asking myself, "Is this a major problem?"
Sadly, I think I tend to fit God into the category of the bad news bearing expert: He knows how to fix me, but I'm not really sure I want the diagnosis. I'm pretty sure that I don't want to pay the price for fixing the problem, and I'm hoping that if I keep ignoring it, it will go away. Plus the idea of being told by an expert "You are a complete idiot; how could you have messed up your life this badly?" doesn't appeal to me. And no, being told everyone else has done the same errors is not comforting.
Partly, I really, really need to have it hammered home that my attempts to handle life without God are something like trying to fly while free-falling without a parachute: As humiliated as the diagnosis and correction from God may be, and as attractive as sky-diving may be, the landing kills. And if I really care about my life, I'll bite the bullet and deal with God sooner rather than later after more damage has been done.
I also need to rewire my image of the distant hostile expert God to something saner. The cliche phrase I suppose would be "Father."
Now in more pragmatic matters: Perhaps I'd better be a little more careful how I handle people asking for computer help.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
A Choice Word (or two)
So I promised a blog entry on tongues a long, long time ago. Mostly, I've been thinking about this: What is my attitude toward people with my tongue?
I've been pondering the following quote:
The other thought I've been thinking about is this one: How I treat people (like the Comcast customer service representatives) is a direct reflection of how I'm treating God. I cannot honor God while using my speech and writing to tear others down and disrespect them. My attitude toward people is a reflection of my estimation of God.
I've been pondering the following quote:
Fundamentally, we expect words to reveal the thoughts of others. When they do not, we resent the deception: We use words such as manipulator, liar, deceiver, flatterer, or hypocrite to describe those who misrepresent their thoughts, desires, or intentions.
Trust essentially asks two questions: Who do you represent yourself to be? Are you who you represent yourself to be? Perhaps the tragedy of words is that we so easily cloak ourselves in grand ideals of peace, love, and joy and only in time are our true, less noble, motives revealed.
The other thought I've been thinking about is this one: How I treat people (like the Comcast customer service representatives) is a direct reflection of how I'm treating God. I cannot honor God while using my speech and writing to tear others down and disrespect them. My attitude toward people is a reflection of my estimation of God.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
I'm Back - And Dealing with Tigers
So I'm finally back to posting, however briefly it may last. When I'm not posting, I'm practicing being assertive with large bureaucracies which are preventing my internet connection from working. While mildly entertaining for the first few hours, it gets a bit old after a while.
Meanwhile, I've been thinking about tigers. Strangely enough, I have this memory of watching a Nature show or something when I was young (8ish?) on tigers and their hunting habits. One of the few facts that stuck with me is that tigers only succeed about 1 in 20 tries. (The scary part is that I recalled the statistic correctly: See here.) For some strange reason, that memory has been floating around in my brain recently - I haven't thought about it in ages. Well, at least 10 years.
I wonder how many tries most of our goals take in life. How many do we train ourselves to expect? Can I imagine going through 20 girlfriends to find a wife? What would I think of a woman who had been through 20 serious boyfriends? (Yes, the math majors will note that a success rate of 5% implies that, on average, success happens on the 10th event, not the 20th.)
Do we train students to expect 10 or more job interviews before landing a job? Or 10 tries to pass organic chemistry?
Perhaps perseverance in the ability to keep pursuing a vision after the first 19 setbacks. Or perhaps insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
And I'm still working up my thoughts on tongues. Just been too busy dealing with tigers to and assertiveness to make much progress.
Meanwhile, I've been thinking about tigers. Strangely enough, I have this memory of watching a Nature show or something when I was young (8ish?) on tigers and their hunting habits. One of the few facts that stuck with me is that tigers only succeed about 1 in 20 tries. (The scary part is that I recalled the statistic correctly: See here.) For some strange reason, that memory has been floating around in my brain recently - I haven't thought about it in ages. Well, at least 10 years.
I wonder how many tries most of our goals take in life. How many do we train ourselves to expect? Can I imagine going through 20 girlfriends to find a wife? What would I think of a woman who had been through 20 serious boyfriends? (Yes, the math majors will note that a success rate of 5% implies that, on average, success happens on the 10th event, not the 20th.)
Do we train students to expect 10 or more job interviews before landing a job? Or 10 tries to pass organic chemistry?
Perhaps perseverance in the ability to keep pursuing a vision after the first 19 setbacks. Or perhaps insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
And I'm still working up my thoughts on tongues. Just been too busy dealing with tigers to and assertiveness to make much progress.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
For the Literate
Well, I've been officially scolded for blogging too often, so this post will be very short.
First, a very interesting website with lots of thought provoking articles. Of course, I loved it. I particularly suggest this and this.
And since I would be remiss in my blogging responsibilities to not make a half-way decent attempt to upset at least half my readership, here's another link.
I'll have another post (soon, I hope) on tongues.
First, a very interesting website with lots of thought provoking articles. Of course, I loved it. I particularly suggest this and this.
And since I would be remiss in my blogging responsibilities to not make a half-way decent attempt to upset at least half my readership, here's another link.
I'll have another post (soon, I hope) on tongues.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Debate 101
I've been practicing being a mathematician (of sorts) of late. I've also been thinking about explaining why I think what I think. And why I believe CNN about riots in Toledo and not e-mail forwards about kidney stealing gangs in New Orleans.
A core idea I have been thinking about is that my ideas tend to be the results of chains of thought.
For example, when CNN reports that a curfew has been announced after disturbances following a neo-NAZI rally, there is a train of beliefs that leads me to believe this to be credible news.
Let's sum up this set of beliefs as A, and represent the conclusions they lead to as B. We can represent this as
Now someone might propose reality A'. For example, neo-Nazis don't exist; the protestors are really government agents promoting a policy of capitalistic exploitation over the masses. A' would not lead someone to believe CNN when CNN reported riots in Toledo. And there might be separate proposals A'', A''', and such, each leading to a different interpretation of the CNN report.
Now in reality, these beliefs chain together:
For example, a genetic similarities between species support the idea of evolution (B.1). They also can support the idea of a common designer (B.1'). They don't tend to support the idea of many separate creatures coming into spontaneous existence (B.1''). (Don't laugh; we're simply too conditioned to expect genetic similarities to easily consider the implications if they didn't exist.)
Those of you who love logic probably see lots of ways this line of thought can be used in persuasion. I'm afraid I probably lost many people, though, on the weird math symbols. Well, not very weird. I just don't have that many symbols available in plain text. But here's a quick conclusion:
It is generally useless to try and convince someone of a logical consequence (D) if they do not share the beliefs (C) that lead to that consequence. For example, try arguing against abortion with the belief that life begins at birth. (Note that the beginning of life is also a logical consequence of other beliefs.)
A core idea I have been thinking about is that my ideas tend to be the results of chains of thought.
For example, when CNN reports that a curfew has been announced after disturbances following a neo-NAZI rally, there is a train of beliefs that leads me to believe this to be credible news.
- I believe that Toledo exists. I have friends who claim to live there. I have many people who talk about living there. I've driven through it.So even without CNN reporting on the incident, the incident fits into my world view. It helps, of course, that I believe that CNN is a news reporting agency and tends to accurately (if with bias) report news.
- I believe neo-Nazis exist and stage rallies.
- I believe people tend to get violent rather quickly, especially in emotionally heated topics.
- I believe that curfews are a likely way for city authorities to try and restore order.
Let's sum up this set of beliefs as A, and represent the conclusions they lead to as B. We can represent this as
A-->B(Sorry, couldn't resist putting in a bit of math; there's plenty more coming. But I'm trying to make in comprehensible.)
Now someone might propose reality A'. For example, neo-Nazis don't exist; the protestors are really government agents promoting a policy of capitalistic exploitation over the masses. A' would not lead someone to believe CNN when CNN reported riots in Toledo. And there might be separate proposals A'', A''', and such, each leading to a different interpretation of the CNN report.
Now in reality, these beliefs chain together:
(A) I believe my parents soSo we have
(B) I believe that cars are dangerous so
(C) I believe that lying down on the traffic lanes on a freeway is dangerous so
(D) I believe that people who do so are either insane, reckless, and/or stupid.
A-->B-->C--D.In reality, we usually have more than one A for each B, more than one B for each C, and such. That is, we have something like
(A.1 + A.2 + A.3)-->B.1.Now the question that often interests me is this: How firm is belief D? In other words, how much of the logic and argumentation has to be wrong to make argument D' true instead? The tricky part is that often an argument A.1 will support B.1 or B.1', but not B.1''.
(A.1 + A.4 + A.5)-->B.2.
(B.1 + B.2)-->C.1.
and so on
For example, a genetic similarities between species support the idea of evolution (B.1). They also can support the idea of a common designer (B.1'). They don't tend to support the idea of many separate creatures coming into spontaneous existence (B.1''). (Don't laugh; we're simply too conditioned to expect genetic similarities to easily consider the implications if they didn't exist.)
Those of you who love logic probably see lots of ways this line of thought can be used in persuasion. I'm afraid I probably lost many people, though, on the weird math symbols. Well, not very weird. I just don't have that many symbols available in plain text. But here's a quick conclusion:
It is generally useless to try and convince someone of a logical consequence (D) if they do not share the beliefs (C) that lead to that consequence. For example, try arguing against abortion with the belief that life begins at birth. (Note that the beginning of life is also a logical consequence of other beliefs.)
Saturday, October 15, 2005
There is a time for elegant quotes
I'm tired of quotes.
There's something appealing about elegant quotes by famous (usually dead) people. Artists, writers, or politicians who managed to find a clever twist or unique presentation of an idea. For me, it all started in high school English class when every essay had to have a "supporting quote." Usually this involved searching through the source for a handful of cool quotes, and then trying to write a few paragraphs connecting the quotes to the paper's "theme".
Now we have a thousand more quotes: AIM profiles. E-mail signatures. Blogs. Books. Web pages. The world is filled with 6 billion people, most of whom say at least one memorable expression a week. That's 300 billion quotes a year. And even if 0.1% are of exceptional quality, that's still 300 million quotes a year.
I often feel a overwhelmed when I start reading. Every author has different quotes, and many of them are thought provoking and different. And somehow I feel pressured to know them all. I bemoan "Why didn't my education include the personal diary of Albert Einstein? Why can't I fluently quote him?"
But I think I'm too easily impressed by the presentation. The ability to say something thought provoking is meaningless without the character to follow through on it. Many of the quotes I'm thinking about talk about living life differently. They urge us to act in life differently, to make different choices. But increasingly I think that our actions spring from our being. The challenge is not so much to do differently as to be someone different. (Yes, as we change, the question of "How shall I then do" is important.) But can we truly do different if we do not change who we are?
For example, I was reading today in CNN that American consider that we're getting ruder. 93% of Americans blame parents. 70% believe that we're getting ruder. But only 8% acknowledged "using their cell phone in a loud or annoying manner". Blaming the parents sounds cool. In fact, it is probably true that the parents are largely responsible. I'm sure there are a number of elegant quotes about the importance of courtesy.
But the hard truth is that my day to day actions will determine whether or not I'm more courteous or not. Memory is a part of the issue, and memorable quotes serve as reminders. But constant reminders to take out the trash do not take out the trash: I have to repeatedly choose throughout the day how I am going to live.
I'm tired of elegant quotes because often I feel people are choosing to use the quote to express an ideal rather than pursue it themselves. If I wanted cool quotes, I could read books. In fact, I usually do. What I want to see in life is people pursuing God. I think I'd happily settle for a few less pithy sayings and a few more quotes privately pondered till they change us.
There's something appealing about elegant quotes by famous (usually dead) people. Artists, writers, or politicians who managed to find a clever twist or unique presentation of an idea. For me, it all started in high school English class when every essay had to have a "supporting quote." Usually this involved searching through the source for a handful of cool quotes, and then trying to write a few paragraphs connecting the quotes to the paper's "theme".
Now we have a thousand more quotes: AIM profiles. E-mail signatures. Blogs. Books. Web pages. The world is filled with 6 billion people, most of whom say at least one memorable expression a week. That's 300 billion quotes a year. And even if 0.1% are of exceptional quality, that's still 300 million quotes a year.
I often feel a overwhelmed when I start reading. Every author has different quotes, and many of them are thought provoking and different. And somehow I feel pressured to know them all. I bemoan "Why didn't my education include the personal diary of Albert Einstein? Why can't I fluently quote him?"
But I think I'm too easily impressed by the presentation. The ability to say something thought provoking is meaningless without the character to follow through on it. Many of the quotes I'm thinking about talk about living life differently. They urge us to act in life differently, to make different choices. But increasingly I think that our actions spring from our being. The challenge is not so much to do differently as to be someone different. (Yes, as we change, the question of "How shall I then do" is important.) But can we truly do different if we do not change who we are?
For example, I was reading today in CNN that American consider that we're getting ruder. 93% of Americans blame parents. 70% believe that we're getting ruder. But only 8% acknowledged "using their cell phone in a loud or annoying manner". Blaming the parents sounds cool. In fact, it is probably true that the parents are largely responsible. I'm sure there are a number of elegant quotes about the importance of courtesy.
But the hard truth is that my day to day actions will determine whether or not I'm more courteous or not. Memory is a part of the issue, and memorable quotes serve as reminders. But constant reminders to take out the trash do not take out the trash: I have to repeatedly choose throughout the day how I am going to live.
I'm tired of elegant quotes because often I feel people are choosing to use the quote to express an ideal rather than pursue it themselves. If I wanted cool quotes, I could read books. In fact, I usually do. What I want to see in life is people pursuing God. I think I'd happily settle for a few less pithy sayings and a few more quotes privately pondered till they change us.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
The Strength of Brokenness
So I guess this post is sort-of a follow-up to my post on wretchedness. I came across this quote that talked about the sort of people we want to be our friends. Bonus points if anyone can name the author / source.
I will allow you, and even want you, to enter and climb into my soul and know me, if three things are true about you. You must be:
- Broken yet strong
- Vulnerable with hope
- Respectfully curious
Broken people have hit bottom and survived. They know they will hit lower bottoms still and will rise up with even more life. They are overwhelmed by both their selfishness and their neediness to the point where they gladly admit their radical dependency on God. No one lees will do. With pride squeezed out of them, they can only plead mercy.
Because broken people have faced death and lived, nothing about who they are is at stake when they engage with others. They don't have to be helpful or clever or appreciated. When they interact with us, we realize they are not working to make anything happen.
Brokenness has humbled them. We feel no pressure to cooperate with some effort to change us. They want us to change, to grow, to mature, but we don't have to change for their sakes. Whether we change or not, they remain solid. We can hurt them but we cannot destroy them. We don't make them nervous. Therefore, we feel safe.
The broken people I know seem more aware of their inadequacies than their strengths, but not with a "poor me, take-care-of-me" attitude. They feel their neediness,. We feel their strength.
Broken people always find reason to worship God and to celebrate us. We don't feel used by them because their center is already solid. With their new purity clearly in view, they never ask us to finally validate them. That's already been done.
Broken people can say hard things and we appreciate it, because they find no joy in the power of superior knowledge or superior morality. They take no pleasure in their being right and our being wrong. God's glory matters to them, and it matters more than anything else. They are not proud of their wisdom. They don't put their insight o display to win applause.
And they are vulnerable, not indiscriminately but meaningfully. Their self-disclosure doesn't feel self-preoccupied. When they share their struggles, we know we're invited in but not to help, not to feel sorry for all they endure, but rather to hope together.
Out of their brokenness and vulnerability, the people we want to be entered by are insatiably but respectfully curious, never invasive, but eagerly willing to walk through whatever doors we open. Their next sentence doesn't miss what we've just said nor is it controlled by our last remark. Sometimes, while they listen to us, they look away, or perhaps close their eyes. Their focus is on Someone else. We're not their final interest. Without feeling pushed or pressured, we feel drawn into another plane, toward another Person, as they continue to ask us questions.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Hammers and Lions, Oh My
The Bible's authors expect that Christians are going to be the target of unfair accusations and slander. Or at least, they are supposed to be unfair and slanderous.
I've been thinking lately about the story of Daniel (yes, the one thrown in the lion's den). Here's the quote of interest to me:
The story goes on where the officials proceed to get a law passed forbidding prayer except to the king, Daniel prays to God, Daniel gets thrown in lion's den, and so on. That is a lot of work to get someone kicked out of office.
I've been reading a fair amount about Tom Delay's ("the Hammer") difficulties of late. One of the articles that caught my attention was this one at Newsweek. One section talks about Delay's claims to be "born again". I don't know how much of the press is true. Maybe most of it is liberal bias. But I'm struck reading through the commentary how much of Delay's reputation is for shady activities and a hard-nosed approach toward politics. I'm not sure that honest, humble, gentle, or people-loving are words that his friends - or enemies - would use about him.
So politicians tend to make easy targets. That's not really news. What about my life? Would someone have to pass a law relating to my religious beliefs if they wanted to get me fired from my job?
Suppose I was being vetted before the senate for a job like 'Supreme Court Justice'. Would my enemies have to resort to slander to impeach my character? Or could my enemies mostly use the truth - if slightly distorted - to get me?
I've been thinking lately about the story of Daniel (yes, the one thrown in the lion's den). Here's the quote of interest to me:
At this [discovering that Daniel would be in charge], the administrators and the satraps tried to find grounds for charges against Daniel in his conduct of government affairs, but they were unable to do so. They could find no corruption in him, because he was trustworthy and neither corrupt nor negligent.Translation: When Daniel was going to get too much power, his fellow government officials decided to try and railroad him out of town. But Daniel was above reproach in his handling of his government responsibilities.
The story goes on where the officials proceed to get a law passed forbidding prayer except to the king, Daniel prays to God, Daniel gets thrown in lion's den, and so on. That is a lot of work to get someone kicked out of office.
I've been reading a fair amount about Tom Delay's ("the Hammer") difficulties of late. One of the articles that caught my attention was this one at Newsweek. One section talks about Delay's claims to be "born again". I don't know how much of the press is true. Maybe most of it is liberal bias. But I'm struck reading through the commentary how much of Delay's reputation is for shady activities and a hard-nosed approach toward politics. I'm not sure that honest, humble, gentle, or people-loving are words that his friends - or enemies - would use about him.
So politicians tend to make easy targets. That's not really news. What about my life? Would someone have to pass a law relating to my religious beliefs if they wanted to get me fired from my job?
Suppose I was being vetted before the senate for a job like 'Supreme Court Justice'. Would my enemies have to resort to slander to impeach my character? Or could my enemies mostly use the truth - if slightly distorted - to get me?
Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.
...For it is God's will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men. Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as servants of God.
Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
The Nature of Pizza (Or, I'm a Geek)
So here's my musing for the last few days: Suppose I have a coupon for a free pizza. Which of the following coupons is the gospel more like:
With the second coupon, a certain level of precision is required. Phone numbers are not self-correcting. 1-100-PIZZA4U will not reach the free pizza hotline. It's not enough to merely be 'close' when one dials the number. There are parts of the 2nd coupon that must be gotten exactly right.
So which is the gospel more like? Is the gospel a matter of ballpark? If you are in the right area with reasonable beliefs, you are welcomed into heaven? Or does it require a precision in certain ways in order for the pearly gates to be opened? (Note that both coupons have a lot of flexibility - language spoken, pizza toppings, time of day, etc. The second coupon is still flexible - just not in every way.)
(And for the bonus questions: Is the gospel more like pick-up or delivery? Why?)
For the engineers and mathematicians, the question is this: (The rest of you can tune out now.)
b represents the intercept point of the line with the y axis (x=0). As b increases, the line moves up on the graph and away from (0,0). As b decreases, the line moves down the axis.
Good for one free large pizza, up to four items. Pick-up at any participating pizzeria. Available at all participating stores. Coupon must be presented at time of purchase. Coupon may not be used with any other offer.or
Good for one free large pizza, up to four items. Call 1-800-PIZZA4U and request your free pizza. Delivery only. Coupon must be presented at time of delivery. Coupon may not be used with any other offer.With the first coupon, it's pretty flexible to get your pizza. Drive around a while and one is sure to spot a Pizza Hut, a Hungry Howie's, or even a Little Caesers. As long as one drives in the right area (a city) and can spot signs, one will end up with a free pizza.
With the second coupon, a certain level of precision is required. Phone numbers are not self-correcting. 1-100-PIZZA4U will not reach the free pizza hotline. It's not enough to merely be 'close' when one dials the number. There are parts of the 2nd coupon that must be gotten exactly right.
So which is the gospel more like? Is the gospel a matter of ballpark? If you are in the right area with reasonable beliefs, you are welcomed into heaven? Or does it require a precision in certain ways in order for the pearly gates to be opened? (Note that both coupons have a lot of flexibility - language spoken, pizza toppings, time of day, etc. The second coupon is still flexible - just not in every way.)
(And for the bonus questions: Is the gospel more like pick-up or delivery? Why?)
For the engineers and mathematicians, the question is this: (The rest of you can tune out now.)
Let x=0 be a line representing perfectly accurate theology.For the non-math majors, m determines the slope of the line. By picking a larger m, the slope becomes steeper (and closer to matching our x=0 line), representing beliefs closer to the truth. By picking a smaller m, our line becomes flatter (m=0 is a flat line) representing beliefs that are the furthest from the truth.
Let (0,0) be the core aspects of the gospel.
Let y=mx+b represent a line corresponding to our beliefs.
(conveniently, you can't choose an m and b such that x=0 for all y, as we assume no one has perfect theology.)
What are m, b such that one is accepted into heaven?
b represents the intercept point of the line with the y axis (x=0). As b increases, the line moves up on the graph and away from (0,0). As b decreases, the line moves down the axis.
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