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.

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:

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.)

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

He who answers before listening, that is his folly and his shame

after 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.

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.

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

"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.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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.

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.

- 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.
- 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.

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.

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 so
(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.

So we have

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.
(A.1 + A.4 + A.5)-->B.2.
(B.1 + B.2)-->C.1.
and so on

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''.

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.)

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.

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.

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:

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.

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:

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.
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?

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.

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.

A More Wretched Hive of Scum And Villainy

Okay, so for the third "I'm an idiot" saga: I've been having headaches lately - usually the type of headaches I get from caffeine withdrawal when I go and get myself addicted. But I haven't been able to figure out what's been triggering the headaches. Today I realized that Diet Lime Pepsi still has caffeine it. Duh. Drinking the diet version doesn't solve the issue of getting addicted. And as I've been semi-consistent in drinking the diet stuff. Probably enough for me to get a habit. Duh.

I wonder how often I change habits without really addressing a key issue. Healthy is good, but if I'm still feeding my addiction, that's probably not good. Well, in general. Maybe a caffeine addiction isn't bad. Certainly better than a chocolate addiction.

Speaking of issues, lately I've been thinking about wretchedness. More specifically, why did Christ die for you? I don't mean the flowery religious language. I mean, who are you that needs to be denied every day? How do you tend to destroy the people around you?

I'm realizing that I like to put the best foot forward. If I can, I structure my destructive habits to be "humorous quirks" - like blogging. If I can't structure my habit, I structure my environment to hide the habit. Do I tend to be overly critical of leadership? Well, make sure that I'm either in charge or not around. Am I judgmental about gray areas? I learn to keep my mouth shut. Then I pray really, really hard that God won't reveal the habits I can't structure and can't prevent.

Jesus fascinates me because he was tempted in every way, yet without sin. Every trial I face - every way I'm tempted to hurt others - he's felt the same temptation, though perhaps in a different setting. Here's my theory of the night: Nice people who successfully control and hide their destructive habits are really boring because we don't relate to them. They may have cool gadgets, cool hobbies, or cool blogs, but when it comes down to actually knowing them, we don't find much to connect with. I wonder how often other people say that about me. (And if you can't say something nice ...)

I like how Larry Crabb talks about wretchedness in The Safest Place on Earth.

Unless we have some understanding, however, of the "great principle of wretchedness" and can see it in ourselves, we will not be impressed by its opposite. The lives of folks like the three I've mentioned previously will not seem so miraculous. And we'll not seek after greatness as a poor man would seek gold. We'll not desire it above all else, nor chase after its source with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Wretchedness - our own wretchedness - must be recognized before true greatness can be properly defined and passionately desired. And it must be recognized not only as a past reality that only memory keeps in view, but also as a present reality that, in all honesty, we must continue to acknowledge.

As I begin to write about what is wrong with us, a thousand pieces of evidence come to mind telling me that whatever is wrong spoils, or at least stains, community. That is its primary effect. Until we have identified a deep, stubborn complex of internal forces whose main effect is to destroy relationships, we have not diagnosed the core problem in human beings. We must see this complex as so hopelessly corrupt that it can only be abandoned and replaced, never repaired. And until we realize that the replacement must come from outside resources, we have not understood the severity of the problem. Whatever is wrong with us makes spiritual community impossible.

Of Others

I thought this was classic. If I knew a Christian Goth woman, I'd probably buy her one for my own amusement.

Also, one of my friends wrote a very good blog entry about respect, credentials, and love. I'm not sure how public she wants her blog, so I won't link to it. (Although the more technically inclined should be able to find it anyway. +1 respect points if you can.) I've stuck in assorted thoughts of my own.

I think it's interesting to hear people describe themselves - what pieces of info they choose to share at first and what impression they want to make. It shocks me how many adults want to impress me (yeah, I have my people I instantly want to impress as well). These conversations are much different in working relationships than friendships and friendships than dating, etc.

Wow, I'm glad nobody wants to impress me. (Mike: Now the question is - which part is the joke? That nobody wants to impress me, or that I'm glad about being so insignificant?)

One of the weirdest places to do this is church. I've recently been asked a number of times about what I'm involved in ... A few of the queries I've fielded have been motivated by comfort level ... I have no problem telling this set that [various involvement details edited out]...

This full answer only applies to that set of people (apparently my blog-reading public as well, but I'm guessing most of you know me well enough to unpack that anyway).

Ah, the on going question: How honest am I with strangers? I was reading job interviewing tips today. Most them boil down to "Don't be too open, manipulate any negative to seem like a positive. Honesty is not a good policy."

There's another set that's getting ready to judge my spirituality and our possible friendship or no based on my answer. It's sort of in the way the question is asked - lead up to after other prestige questions or before much has been said. There's this feeling that I get that if I've got the right pedigree, we'll try a friendship. If not, why bother?

This attitude fully annoys me and makes me sad...

On the other hand, it is a fair question - the things a person believes, thinks and feels make up who they are. These are often indicated by how they use or waste their time and occasionally by their level of involvement in something.

So here we go - how does one answer that question in both a humble, non-self-serving manner and honestly without negative pride?

Not much else to say. I loved the entry.

Temptation by any other name

I'm amazed how envy and dissatisfaction takes about 2.53 seconds to get a hold in my heart. I was going to the refrigerator to get my packed lunch the other day. (My non-robotically self-made lunch, may I add.) And enroute I encountered the pizza buffet that my work had ordered for the VIP meeting.

And I promptly decided that I wanted pizza.

My next thought was that my own lunch wasn't good enough. (Nevermind that it was cheese & ham sandwiches with mustard on slightly stale bread and a banana. Yes, the slightly stale bread was my fault.) And then I was grumpy at God for providing the VIPs with free pizza and not me. (Nevermind that I earn enough that I could buy pizza; that if I did get a raise, I probably wouldn't buy pizza with it; and that I have other priorities for my money.)

From there, my mind drifted to God holding out on me. Amazing what a few boxes of pizza can bring me to.

Gone to Meddling

Lately I've been thinking about the issues of honesty, respect, and tact. I'm especially thinking about it because I'm discovering lately that I have a lot of views that rub people the wrong way. (I know that is shocking to many of you.) I've scratched or delayed half a dozen blog topics because I haven't figured out a way to write which both honestly presents my thoughts and yet gives respectful space to those with other views.

My problem is that often honesty seems to be taken as implicitly disrespectful and tactless. Why? Because we want people to be who they aren't. I want people to care about my problems when they don't. I want people to like my choices when they don't. I want people to spend time with me when they don't.

Conversations might go like this:

Acquaintance: So why didn't you come bowling last night?
Tactful Me: I didn't feel in the mood to go bowling.
Honest Me: Because Stan went. I despise Stan and can't stand being around him.

Friend: So why did you decide to help out with your church's "Help the elderly" ministry?
Tactful Me: I felt like this was a great opportunity to serve God and just really felt than he laid this opportunity on my heart.
Honest Me: Well, there's this hot girl who said she was going to get involved and I wanted to impress her.

A friend (Charles) recently commented that he found tattoos repulses. Another friend (Stan) promptly commented that Charles was being ridiculous. A part of me agrees with Stan. I don't get Charles. I don't get why he's disgusted by tattoos. But that doesn't give me the right to trivialize or invalidate his feelings or reaction.

How does Charles honestly expression his repulsion to a tattoo artist?

After Charles mentions his repulsion, how do I answer his question "So what do you do?" when I, in fact, am a tattoo artist.

What makes a feeling or reaction silly or ridiculous?

P.S. I'm feeling bad for having demonized Stan and Charles so much. I need a new set of names for abusing when I want to write an example in. Please suggest some good ones.

It's All About Me

So I've been thinking a lot about churches. I realized that I've been with my current church for eight years. That's a long time. And my church has changed significantly in those years. I've been thinking about some of the changes, and whether or not I would have gotten involved had those changes existed eight years ago. Not that the changes are bad - most of them are great - I'm just not sure if I would have appreciated the current church eight years ago.

I've also been contemplating what I expect from a church - and what I should bring to a church when I choose it. I easily view the church as a monolithic entity which should be responsible for welcoming me, teaching me, entertaining me, befriending me, advising me, bring food when my family has a child, and visiting me when sick, and such. But a church is made up of people who have families, 40-hour a week jobs, credit card debt, mortgage payments, and the like. In short, the church is a lot like me.

How many times a week do I call a friend from church to see how he is doing? If others call as their friends as frequently as I call mine, then I'd get about as many phone calls as I made.

How often do I really sit down and ask how someone is doing?

How often do I ask someone to for advice?

How often do I make a point of welcoming new people? Of remembering their names?

How often do I let myself be inconvenienced by others' needs?

How often do I learn the stories of others?

How often do I sit down and ask someone how I came across - and how I could be more effective in communicating with them?

How often am I wrapped up with my life and my comfortable circle of friends that I simply neglect the very activities that I expect from my church? What does it take for me to feel loved and befriended? Am I consistently giving that to others?

I don't think we all bring the same gifts to the church. But I think it's easy for us to expect more from the church as a whole than we bring to the church. Basic math says that if I'm contributing E effort from the church and everyone in the church followed my model, then we each get out roughly what we put in. Figure some loss due to thermodynamics (e.g. friction), and we get back less than we put in.

(I admit, I don't totally buy the math above. I think we often reap benefit that is not proportional to the energy put in. I have other concerns with that representation. But it gets at a point I've been pondering a lot lately.)

Group Think

So I mentioned that I've been thinking about group think verses individuality. Specifically, I've been thinking about organized religion in the form of the church. I think that my generation - and possibly others - tend to be very critical of organized church. Here's some of my musings.

For some reason, I often feel caught in the middle between the people who are badly hurt by the group and the group. Here's some of my frustrations...
- I rarely can get both sides of the story. It's usually a lot easier to get the side of the angry, grieved party than the groupthink.
- We assume sins against us as horrendously intentional rather than painfully accidental.
- When we're sinned against, we usually want justification, not to cover the offense and seek reconciliation, patiently reaching out toward the offenders.
- When we do want to cover the offense, it's often because we're afraid of conflict on matters where the boat should be rocked.
- I believe in the institution of the organized church.
- I don't believe that all churches are good churches.
- I believe in loyalty to a specific church.
- I don't believe in blind loyalty to a specific church.
- I believe it's important to not be tearing down the character or work of other Christians.
- I believe it's important to know the flaws of one's leaders.

I really hate the typical pattern I see, which is that Charles joins the church. Charles is enamored by the church and gets heavily involved. After a while, Charles becomes disillusioned by a combination of factors. Some of this is simply that Charles is loosing his blinders and seeing issues that were problems all along. Other issues are just Charles' take on them.

Charles feels like he can't talk to people. Maybe he tries talking to someone "in leadership" - say, Stan - and the conversation goes badly. Stan doesn't really see the issues Charles sees, or doesn't see them as the priority, or doesn't do a good job communicating his concern to Charles. Charles is hurt and angry. He feels like most of the church group supports Stan. He's angry at his church friends for not taking his side more. Charles doesn't have very many people that he can talk with about these problems - and few, if any, of them are in the group itself.

The few friends Charles does talk to don't have the other side of the situation - partly because they aren't involved in the group and partly because Stan hasn't shared his side of the story with complete strangers. These friends have few choices: They either foolishly empathize about how unjustly hurt Charles is; they staunchly defend Stan without any facts; or they feel caught in the middle without anything to say.

I really don't like the dynamic above in a lot of ways. Here's a few of my thoughts...
- As Stan, it's helpful to frequently discuss major failings - both personal and in leadership.
- As Stan, it's also important to realize that what others are seeing may not be what you are intending. Creating opportunities for others, especially acquaintances/strangers, to share what they see is helpful.
- As Charles, it's vital to seek out and apply the Biblical teachings on reconciliation, forgiveness, bitterness, and the like. We don't like the "If you have something against your brother, go to him." Usually the reason for not doing it? He won't listen. Maybe not, but I think we are really resistant to doing a sincere, prayerful, competent, humble reconciliation attempt.
- As friends, know that there are two sides, both probably somewhat in the wrong.
- As friends, blessed on the peacemakers. Not those who pretend conflict doesn't exist, but those who promote reconciliation between grieved parties.

One final thought: I think church can be particularly susceptible to the feeling that "no one else sees this issue". Why? Because good churches don't encourage gossip. And so there is a much smaller set of "public knowledge". At work, people have a reputation. Their flaws and irritating mannerisms are public knowledge because of gossip. So when I am hurt, it's easier for me to chalk it up to "so-and-so is just jerk about X".

In church, without gossip, I can't easily compare my experiences against "the group consensus". And so it's easier for me to feel hurt rather than realizing that Stan is just a blind fool in some areas.

Is it possible for a church people to be open about the weaknesses they see in others without becoming a gossiping church?

I'm an Idiot...And Other Boring Stories

Well, in my never ending goal of catering to my readers (<-- a joke, Mike), I've decided to post a couple self-humiliating stories. For some reason people seem to appreciate these.

Sob story one: I'm an idiot. Over the past eight weeks or so I've been realizing how much influence I let a handful of people have over me in certain environments. I feel like Pavlov's dog. Let's take a hypothetical straw man - say, Stan. For some reason, some criticism Stan made in high school has stuck with me. I don't know why I care about Stan's opinion. It's not like he's especially insightful or close. Somehow, though, I remember that he commented how nervous I was around him. And now whenever I endup at an event with Stan, my mind jumps to pondering if I'm acting nervous. I spend the rest of the night trying to maintain a coherent line of thought and not jumping back to mulling over whether or not I'm being normal. And then Stan leaves and I relax and life returns to normal.

It's strange. I doubt that Stan even remembers the comment. I doubt that Stan even cares. I really doubt that anyone else cares. Worse yet, I know better. Yet retraining the patterns is incredibly difficult. I'm glad that I don't have many Stan's in my life - and glad that I don't often see them. See now they remind me not only of how nervous I am, but what an idiot I am for allowing this line of thought to have control in my life for so long.

Sob story two: Sometimes being shopping alone at Meijer @ 10p on a Friday night is just really lonely.

Hrm, I need a happy cheerful story...I actually had one, too, but I seem to have forgotten it. Maybe that will be tomorrow's goal.

And I shouldn't leave us all without one serious theological thought...
I've been thinking about what it means that Jesus was tempted in every way, just as we are. One thought: Jesus knows the attractiveness of sin. And he knows why a sin is particularly attractive to us in our life and our place.

Meaninglessly Satisfying

In the meaningless and not terribly surprising category...I guess this means I'm cool according to some stranger. Oh well, I'll not scoff at free compliments.

Pure Nerd 86 % Nerd, 13% Geek, 30% Dork

For The Record: A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia. A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions. You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd. The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful. Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 96% on nerdiness You scored higher than 7% on geekosity You scored higher than 49% on dork points

Mercury poisoning

So today I learned about mercury poisoning. Here's a few of the things I learned:
- Mercury contaminates just about anything it touches.
- Mercury vaporizes when vacuumed, creating a toxic cloud.
- Mercury, spilled and vaporized, makes one's home almost unlivable.
- Mercury is especially dangerous to small children.
- Mercury is present in small glass thermometers, which are breakable.
- Mercury is one of those substances I should talk to poison control about.
- I don't have the number for poison control.

Don't ask how me how I learned all of the above. But I was thinking about how mercury is like sin.
- A little sin is toxic.
- Sin not only hurts me, but it hurts those closest to me.
- Sin is toxic, regardless of whether or not I realize the danger.
- Sin contaminates what it touches.
- Sin is made worse by my attempts to clean it up.
- Sin requires professional cleanup.

It's late. I should wrap all of this into a cool parable. Maybe a story about how I was an idiot and broke a thermometer and caused my apartment to be evacuated. But I don't have the coherency to be that clever. I'm also working through some thoughts I've been thinking about loyalty to a group verses groupthink. Remind me to post it.

Of %#$#*% and FEMA

Okay, first thought for tonight - two anonymous quotes:

Swearing is capable of expressing a raw realness of life that is lacking in all other words in the English language.

and in response to that

I both pity and scorn the uneducated yokel whose grasp of himself and English is so shallow as to consider swearing among the truest touches of emotions. What do they teach in schools these days?

(See Mike? A joke, of sorts.)

Elsewhere, I've been thinking that character development is like disaster preparation. Much of the time it's impossible to tell whether or not character development is happening. Those who are faithfully changing and those who are not look roughly the same. And then Katrina hits. And one's preparation - character - is revealed for the world to see. Sometimes Katrina is getting fired. A death in the family. A loss of a significant other or a divorce. A fight with a best friend.

I was thinking today that I tend to get complacent between the hurricanes and forget how important character and disaster preparation are. I tend to slack and forget to invest in communication equipment, dry food, and evacuation plan. I like glamour and glitz, not hardwork that seems meaningless. We only really see the success - or failure - of disaster preparation when the disaster strikes. We can speculate about theories of preparedness, but the true test is at the moment when landfill is made.

Am I committed to the daily grind of character development? To biting my tongue when others take credit for my work? To being genuinely gracious when others slight me? To playing the servant even when I don't think it matters? Do I believe God sees that which no one else sees? What patterns am I sowing for the future? How will those patterns impact the recovery effort when the next storm hits my life?

Music: A Taste of Heaven?

Ok, so it's been a good weekend for theology. Topics have included Catholicism, charismatic perspectives, the gospel, evil, the will of God, and such. I need to remember that a life of 100% theology is not healthy for me. 99.5% theology and 0.5% recreation would be much better. But that's neither here nor there. Related (indirectly) is a friend's response to my question about why he loved being involved in the band. Paraphrased with permission, here goes: He said it taught him about life...

You learn to play your part and support others while they play their part
You become sensitive and aware of leadership
You have a means to achieve expression

I really like being in a group that works together for a common goal, and where everyone contributes their individual talents, but where they are not supposed to "out do" others; rather, it is the interplay of all of the passages that brings depth and color to the music. When you do play the same notes as the person next to you, you have to learn to be keenly aware of their playing, and you need to align yourself with them with their breathing patterns, their tonality, the tuning...

You can never think only of yourself but you must continuously refine and work on your skills to allow yourself to grow and to give the group room to grow.

Ironically, I thought the above spoke beautifully about God and the church: What he intended the church to be in our lives and the role he wants us to play in it.

...A group that works together for a common goal, and where everyone contributes their individual talents, but where they are not supposed to "out do" others; rather, it is the interplay of all of the personalities that brings depth and color to the church. When you do serve the same roles as the person next to you, you have to learn to be keenly aware of their relationship with God, and you need to align yourself with them with their gifts, their style, the Holy Spirit...

The obvious conclusion is that music must be a taste of heaven.

Of Jokes and Men

Mike: I appreciate your encouragement that I should joke more. However, you should be fully aware that Vulcans do not joke. In other news, I've decided that I need a robot to make my lunch.

On a more serious note, I've decided that I'm a (lazy) minimalist, which conflicts very badly with my goal of eating lunch everyday. I'm trying to minimize (a) amount of money spent per meal, (b) amount of time fixing meal, and (c) boredom with the meal. I've finally gotten tired of sandwiches and bananas, and need to find something viable to take to work with me. Foods that won't destroy my clothing also seem like a plus. A robot seems like an ideal solution: Initially expensive, but cheap to maintain, doesn't get grumpy at being ignored, can learn new tricks, and impresses visitors.

I also have a communication axiom for those who care: Given that you are capable of communicating in two languages with a person who speaks only one, your documentation should be full and complete *in the language of the user*, not in your native language. It's amazingly frustrating to try and read complex technical documentation which has been poorly translated into English and trying to reverse engineer the operational functionality of the equipment.

The experience gives me a whole new sympathy to people who don't speak "Christianese". It's inevitable, I suppose, that groups develop lingo for frequently used concepts. But it's incredibly humiliating to be trying to read between the technical lines for what might have been meant. And I consider myself fairly technically savvy. (Foolishly, perhaps. <-- another joke for Mike.) But I can't see a journalist picking this documentation up and understanding it. And yet one job of an ambassador is to translate. I wonder whether I cheerfully and patiently translate my lingo for others.

A Game of Masks

It's bizarre how little it sometimes takes to get my heart stressed. Yesterday it was the thought around 6p that "maybe you didn't have Labor Day off - maybe you missed work today." And my immediate gut reaction was something akin to the waking up during finals week and realizing that your exam started 15 minutes ago clear across campus. And I spent the rest of the night trying to shake the thought. It's not like I really needed a reminder of how obsessive compulsive I tend to be.

The encouraging thought, though, is that I think people are pretty similar to me. Some of them hide it better - or at least differently - but fundamentally I think we all have many fears that tend to control and drive us. The problem is that we instinctively realize it's not terribly admirable to be driven by fear and so we dress our actions up. It's not that I think all good actions are from bad motives. But I think we're very good at doing good things for the very wrong reasons.

We volunteer because we're afraid of silence and being by ourselves.
We work hard at the job because we're afraid to commit ourselves to our families.
We drink heavily because we're afraid to face the pain.
We study hard because we're afraid to be failures.

How do I interact in people's lives? Do I encourage them that masks are unnecessary? Or do simply add a fear of being vulnerable around me and give them one more reason to wear a mask?

Symbolism

Okay, I'm back to blogging. I'm not quite sure how it slipped to being a week. I was going to make a nice post about recent neighborly mischief I've been up to and my thoughts on how it models the idea of the church as a body. However, I'm tired, so here's a quote I read this week.

"With hurricane Katrina, New Orleans is a miniature representation of our spiritual reality. We want to see ourselves as the heroes of the hour. But spiritually, our predicament is parallel to the armed gangs roaming the streets. Whatever initial mercy we may feel for these people quickly fades as we see these hoodlums responding to loss by shooting at rescue workers, raiding supply convoys, and otherwise disrupting civil order. Spiritually, it is true that our world is a wreck around us due to other's sin. But our response to that sin - the evil and mayhem that we cause - separates us from God, making us wanted criminals.

Suppose these hoodlums become trapped on roofs as the city floods. Imagine them rescuing themselves from their predicament. It is ridiculous! Water has flooded their home. Infrastructure has been destroyed. Cars are gone; gas stations malfunctioning; electricity out. One cannot reliable feed oneself, let alone traverse the many miles to civilization on their own. We send in relief precisely because we do not expect people to be able to cope with the situation their own.

Likewise, the good news is not "Sorry about the hurricane, but if you walk to Houston you can have a new life." Nor is the message "Well, there's an evacuation point five miles south of you; if you make it we'll consider you worthy of evacuation and provide you with aid."

But the Biblical message is "If you trust the rescuer and call out to him, he will get you out." Not out from an evacuation point, but out from the roof of your flooded house. We want so badly to think that we can contribute in some way, some shape, some form to our spiritual rescue. We want to think that some gesture we make, some effort, some token on our part is a necessary part of the rescue. Yet these efforts simply distance us from God.

The wonder of the gospel is that God is at work rescuing the armed hoodlums of New Orleans who have become trapped on flooding roofs. The question is not what can we contribute to getting out, but whether we will trust that Jesus is competent to rescue us without any help from us.

I've been thinking a lot about the spiritual parallels of Katrina and Christianity. About dependence on Jesus for what I can't accomplish. About what death and destruction are and what God wants to avoid. About New Orleans destroyed and what sin destroys in my life. About how God wants to train us to be rescue workers, not hoodlums. About the wonder of his wanting to make hoodlums his children. About how I don't really get it. And that's sad.

"I'll Never..."

I was reading through some old journal entries and contemplating various comments that I and my friends have made. Specifically, I've been thinking about how often we use the phrase "I'll never ....":

I'll never give up caffeine.
I'll never be a vegetarian.
I'll never let myself be poor.
I'll never live in Lansing (or Africa).
I'll never name my child Polly.
I'll never let my child get away with temper-tantrums.
I'll never marry a Christian (or a vegetarian, or anyone named Polly).

I can generate quite a list over the years. Some of my "I'll never" comments I'm very pleased with. They're based on convictions of what I believe is right and good. While I'd like to be open minded to being wrong about my convictions, I definitely hope to remain true to them while I have them - and hope that I don't develop convictions so quickly that I end up changing many of them over the years.

But many of my "I'll never" ideas are based on how I wish life would happen for me. I'd prefer not to be poor. I enjoy eating tasty, juicy barbecued slabs of cow. And I like to control my circumstances. Here's some questions that give me pause when I look at my list of "nevers":

Would I cheerfully follow God to live in Lansing if that was his will? Do I care more about my living situation than serving people where he wants me?

Would I cheerfully give up wheat if my wife or child was deathly allergic to it? Is my enjoyment of food more important to me than my family?

Is wealth more important to me than a loving relationship with my spouse? Will I allow my desire to possess money to put tension between my wife and I?

Is X the only right way to do things?

Is X so important to me that I would let it strain my relationship with my family to make it happen?

Is X so important to me that I wouldn't lay it down if God asked me to?

I have a lot of preferences. I think most of them make a lot of sense. But I really need remember that my preferences are not more important than helping others know God or following God myself.

On Dance

My hypothesis: Some things in life work poorly if done half-heartedly. Salsa dancing, for example. If I'm going to go salsa dancing, it does very little good to go there half-heartedly, sulk in a corner, snidely comment on every topic, and avoid being dragged out on the dance floor. Well, little except ruin the experience for my friends.

The reality of salsa dancing is that going is a commitment to something bigger: To making a fool of myself (no, I don't believe all the good dancing who argue that no one notices or everyone struggles through it - I'm not a big fan of cliche comforts), to being a student of dance, to being cheerfully gracious at being social, and such.

I wonder how much knowing God is like salsa dance. I tend to approach God something like being dragged to salsa dancing when I'm sick and tired. I'm grumpy, resistant, and hard to impress. Honestly, I'm amazed God wants to see me at all when I'm in that mood. I don't think I would.

And yet knowing God is a whole other world. When I explore him instead of sulking in the corner - I'm stunned by who he is. Actually, I'm usually pretty impressed by him even when I'm sulking in my hole at the edge of the club. Knowing God certainly means a large amount of falling down - and asking help from those who know better. How do you pray in private? Why do you pray that way in public? How did God lead you in deciding to date your girlfriend? What do you see in my life that concerns you?

My regular salsa dancing friends are much, much better than I am at dance. But they are still learning, although I often can't even pick up on their errors. But they enjoy the dance. They talk style, technique, and rhythm. And they enthusiastically invite others along. They aren't haughty about their skills, but quick help me along the way. Not a bad model for an attractive relationship with God.

Emotions in Sunlight

Something I read today:

Our hearts respond to life as surely as our skin responds to sunlight. This truth is surely good. Our skin needs sunlight to thrive. Sunlight provides a sense of time to the day. It warms us and encourages us and refreshes us. We feel better in the sunlight - some of us even buy our own light boxes to mimic the sun to avoid seasonal depression.

In the same way, our passions are good for us. They provide meaning to life. Disappointments are not meant to be endured stoically, without a sense of loss, like Spock. Our passions are fundamental to what it means to be human. Great technical accomplishments achieved with machine-like efficiency is not the meaning of life. Life is about knowing - about relating.

Yet at the same time, only a great fool stands naked in the sun for hours at a time. The same rays that give warmth and hope also bring damage, burning our skin and, given enough opportunities, bringing deadly illness. While we may enjoy our day of tanning, we also assure ourselves an older look over the years.

In the same way, we need to learn to guard our hearts. Unshielded, they absorb more than they are meant bringing upon ourselves great pain. We desperately put our hope where it does not belong - and have our hopes dashed. Our hearts become cynical, possessive, fearful, lonely, bitter, jaded, insensitive. In the end, we not only don't feel the warmth of light, but end up burning others.

I don't know what I think of this quote. It reminds of the proverb "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." I like how it captures the balance between emotional distance which stifles life (and I lean strongly toward) and the danger of unchecked emotion. And being a person who burns incredibly easily, I like the sunlight/skin analogy. But there's something that just seems off about the quote. I'm not quite sure I can put my finger on it though.

The Need for Examples

So lately I've been realizing what a necessity practical living examples are in developing our theology. I'm thinking specifically of spiritual principles. Be holy. Do good deeds. Handle the word of God correctly.

But it's amazing how we can hear and say the same principles and yet have totally different applications.
What does holiness mean when interacting with the opposite sex?
Who are the poor and needy that I should be doing good deeds toward?
What does it look like to be single and content? What ought it to feel like? (What ought it to look and feel like to be in the middle miserable marriage while struggling to honor God?)
What does it mean to live with a forgiving attitude toward the idiot who slashed my tires?

The beauty of real examples is that they enable me to not only apply theology, but to exposes how I tend to twist theological principles to justify evil. And examples tend to expose my desires of what I want verses what God wants.

Of course, these strengths are also why I hate examples. I like being able to hide. Sometimes honesty seems like too high of a price.

Debate!

I found the following quiz on how we tend to argue for/against Christianity to be interesting. Here's my results...

You scored as Evidentialist. You are an evidentialist! Apologetics primarily consists in showing the good reasons one has to believe the claims of Christianity. You consistently confound unbelievers with your knowledge of history, science, and Bayesian computation that you learned from John Warwick Montgomery, Gary Habermas, and Richard Swinburne. Evidentialist 97% Classical Apologist 87% Reformed/Presuppositional Apologist 20% Fideist 7% Atheist 0% What kind of apologist are you? created with QuizFarm.com

Two Links

One on what it means to be Christian example, and the other on pornography. (Both by the same guy.) Hrm, why these two topics? Great question. Remind me to blog one the story behind them sometime. Ok, let's be serious. You aren't going to remember to ask. Just go read the links. :)

What would it take...

So I met a cool friend of a friend the other night - Franchesca*. We ended up talking about baptism, the Holy Spirit, faith, and it takes for God to forgive you. She's thoughtful, knowledgeable, and tactful. We also have fundamental disagreements in our perspectives. She said very little that was new to me - most of it was rehashing of concepts I've heard before.

But the conversation got me thinking: What would she have to say for me to reconsider my perspective? For all of the talk, what would it take for me to actually change my views? Is it simply running into someone who is a brilliant debater who can out think me?

Is it a matter of her ideas making more sense to me than mine? Is it a matter of my liking her ideas better than mine?

As I think about it, here's a few thoughts that leap to mind.
- I want clear practical areas where her ideas work "better" than mine. Ideally I could try her ideas out in my life, but at the very least I'd like to see them lived out in her life.
- I want to understand the derivation: I want to know where these ideas come from and whey they are considered reliable.
- I'm probably a lot more sympathetic in the areas (or times) when my coping strategies are failing miserable. I'm a lot more tempted by alternate belief systems when I'm lonely and miserable.
- I'd like to see her considering and (probably) changing her views over time. It's hard for me to believe that anyone under the age of 60 has it all worked out.

The last point gets me. I tend to shift my perspectives pretty slowly, I think, and I don't tend to be aware of the magnitude of the changes. I rarely wake up one day and "You know what, I think I'm going to kiss dating good-bye." Instead I tend to quietly realize that I'm using my tongue to cut others down way too much and that I need to be much slower to speak.

But perhaps I just don't change me perspective on big issues (forest) much and tend to focus on the trees. Maybe I'm around too many people who more or less agree with me to be consistently challenged with my views. It's easy to think one is right when one isn't in pain. It's hard to think one is right when one's in pain. Except for those of us that love to play the martyr.

Maybe I just need to ask God that this would be my sincere prayer:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.

Do I believe that God will change those who want to know him?

(Okay, I admit, names and other details altered. Surprised?)

15 Minutes of Fame

Some famous - and probably white and dead - guy said something like this:

Give me fifteen minutes to talk with a stranger, and I can tell you what he cares about.

I don't remember the exact point, but the gist was that we naturally talk about that which is important to us. One pastor (Piper?) commented that we naturally worship in three ways:

1. We admire: We're stunned to watch Elway through the last minute touch down.
2. We tell others: "You've got to come watch this pass by John Elway."
3. We mimic: We go out and play football in the park.
(I might be wrong about the first item.)

I'm not sure I exactly buy the first quote - I think there's a lot of reasons we don't talk about what we truly love (fear leaps to mind). But the second point catches me: When we love, we naturally talk about our loves. Two guys at work just had children, and a quick query will get them gushing.

I suppose I've been thinking lately about what my conversations naturally revolve around. Am I more excited to talk about the latest computer game, or what God's been doing around me? Am I saddened by the hesitation and fear I feel when God comes up? Or am I secretly encouraged when wisdom dictates a quieter approach?

I suppose there are two reasons I tend to speak of God less enthusiastically than other topics: One is lack of love. The other is fear. Do I love him enough to face and overcome my fears? Do I even want to overcome my fears?

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be silent and a time to speak,

For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.

Wise as Serpents, Part 2

This probably does not qualify for wisdom. :(

"You Idiot" & Other Ways to Win an Argument

So I ended up in a discussion recently with a few friends over some passage in scripture. The discussion went something like this:

Me: So I was thinking recently about the passage of Daniel in the Lion's Den.
Friend: I don't recall that passage.

Me: Well, it's where this good guy - Daniel - ends up being thrown to a den of hungry lions and God sends an angel to make sure Daniel doesn't get eaten. Then the bad guys get thrown to the lions and they die. Gory.
Friend: Oh yes, I remember that story. I recall becoming a vegetarian as a result of that passage.

Me: Huh? How so?
Friend: Well, clearly...

Me: What? That's not at all what it means.

(Ok, I think I was quick enough to not actually verbalize that last comment.) But I've been thinking about where my friend is coming from - and not just why I disagree, but whether or not there's a point to disagreement.

It's hard to argue with people who have a totally different paradigm - not just a lack of knowledge - but an actively different worldview. The problem is that simply rehashing the story of Daniel & the Lion's Den a dozen times won't lead my friend or I to different conclusions. And because there's so little common ground, there's no way to prove myself right. And I am right, of course. j/k. I wonder if Paul had this issue in mind when he wrote to Timothy

Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Those who oppose him he must gently instruct, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth...

With frightfully ease, I often see winning the argument as being more important than the means used to win the issue. Paul, ironically, while mentioning the need to competently hold one's own, focuses on the issues of the interaction: Kind, not resentful, gentle, hopeful, patient.

I also think we focus way too easily on the visible disagreements - say issue L, for lion's den. But in reality, my friend's view on understanding L is shaped by his beliefs on other topics such as the nature of the Bible, the character of God, the style of God, and such. And those beliefs are further reinforced by our own insecurities, fears, and desires.

A few thoughts on debating respectfully:
Do I really want to know if I am wrong about something? Would I change friends if my friends were bad for me? Would I join a different denomination? Would I live on the street as a beggar if that was God's will? Is David's prayer really my prayer - do I really want God to search me for ways offensive to him?

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.

Do I care about others knowing God better because of me, or do I care about being right, and others knowing it? Am I grateful when God uses others to bring about changes in my thinking?
Am I content without a wholehearted defense of my position? Would I rather look stupid than put a stumbling block in my friend's mind by the way I defend my point?
Is a issue worth disagreeing about? Does it either directly or through ramification have a significant impact on either my relationship with God or my friend's relationship with God? Are there other more important issues we could be discussing?


Oh yes, the point to disagreement: Beliefs lead to choices. And choices have consequences. And part of loving others is wanting them to make good choices, which means disagreeing at times. It also means learning when - and how - to disagree.

Anarchy for Thought

A friend mentioned this link: http://jesusradicals.org/ to me. I've just skimmed through their intro, but it's an intriguing set of ideas. One sad thing: Their library seems to primarily contain the writings of well-known anarchists. I searched through several of their articles and couldn't find any mention of Jesus. For a group that calls themselves Christian Anarchist, I would have liked to have seen a lot more dealing with Christianity and it's implications. Somehow Christian seems like the more important word of the two.

Of Serpents and Traitors

So I got accused of being the traitor tonight in Shadows over Camelot. Unfairly accused, may I add. In fact, we lost the game because of the accusation. (Shadows is a corroborative game where everyone is on the side of good, except possibly a lone hidden traitor.)

Playing the traitor is something of an art because it requires playing loyally enough not to be discovered as the traitor, but subtly manipulate the progress of the game such that evil wins. Sometimes I associate cunning and treacherous together. And then I associate brave, simple, and good together. Darth Sidious single-handedly conquered an entire Republic and destroyed the Jedi through cunning. Yoda and Obiwan were brave and noble, but not very cunning. (Hrm, I seem to be a StarWars analogy kick.)

Here's a few quotes I'm thinking about tonight. It's worth reading them in context.

The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings. - Jesus

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. - Paul

I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves. - Jesus

He [Jesus] went on: "What comes out of a man is what makes him 'unclean.' For from within, out of men's hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, ... and folly. All these evils come from inside and make a man 'unclean.' - Jesus

The last one especially catches my attention: The Greek word for 'folly' is afrosune: senselessness, recklessness, thoughtlessness. (No, I don't know Greek. But I read English well here . Essentially, Jesus is calling folly evil.

Am I committed to doing good with my mind? Do I plot good? Do I seek to understand the ways of the Jedi council and how they may be thwarted despite themselves? Or do I simply draw my sword, plunge into battle, and trust that courage and good intentions will save the day? How do I encourage others to think?

This line of thinking scare me because it empowers people, and makes the intentions of our hearts all the more critical. A powerless person can do very little evil (or good), regardless of their intention. A crafty person has enormous power and the use of that power is dependent upon their character. I often prefer to surround myself with helpless people so that I don't need to trust God's work in their lives to restrain them from hurting me.

Interesting Read

This Survey

How To Know You Need Marriage Counseling

Offbeat & Frightening News

Fiddles and Other Seconds

I've been thinking about the difficulty of being a true servant. Not one of the flashy glamorous "servants" like Wesley (The Princess Bride) who turns out to have a heart of gold, be the hero of the story, and goes on to win hand of the beautiful lady. But servants who are second fiddlers.

The trick with playing second char with many instruments is that the first chair (band experience showing through here) gets the best parts - the solos, the hardest to play melodies, and such. The role of the second fiddle is to provide support - to make the first chair look good.

Why don't I like 2nd fiddle? Mostly, I think, because of pride. I like being the center of the universe. And being 2nd fiddle grates on that pride. One can put others first for a while and feel spiritual. But the day in and day out grind of making others look good gets to me if I'm secretly pursuing gratitude or accolades.

I wonder what we think of when we read some of these verses...

I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, that I also may be cheered when I receive news about you. I have no one else like him, who takes a genuine interest in your welfare. For everyone looks out for his own interests, not those of Jesus Christ.

"But you are not to be called 'Rabbi,' for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth 'father,' for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called 'teacher,' for you have one Teacher, the Christ. The greatest among you will be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.

A few thoughts on what it means to be a servant:
- A servant makes those he serves look good.
- A servant doesn't boast about how he makes others look good.
- A servant isn't proud about his preferences - his goal the success of others.
- A servant understands the bigger picture.
- A servant takes initiative.
- A servant is a faithful messenger.

A servant-teacher's goal is the communication and application of life giving ideas, not his own sermon. He uses other people's teachings and techniques eagerly - not to look good, but to be effective. A servant-friend does not cling to relationships, but desires the other to have the best relationships possible. He introduces people, even knowing that his own friendships with others may grow more distant. A servant-planner cares that the plan is solid and well defined, even knowing that others may get the credit for the success.

When I think of a servant, do I think of Luke Skywalker? Or do I think of the brave captain who took Princess Leia to Tantooine and then refused to give any information to Darth Vador?

So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.

A, B, C, D or RCT?

Ok, so related to my last post, I've been thinking about an idea I was exposed to as 'Rational Christian Thinking' (RCT). I'm not sure how much of it I recall (ok, probably quite a bit), but the short version was that our emotions are generally a consequence of our beliefs. If I believe the large Doberman pincher is dangerous, I feel fear. If I think the hooded serpent playing with a mongoose is a garden snake, I'm unconcerned (and stupid).

Anyway, I've always thought the concept was very neat in that RCT has often been helpful for figuring out why I feel the way I do, especially when I'm having a strong reaction to something but can't easily identify it. (It's not like this happens to me a lot, of course, being an engineer. Engineers, of course, are very in touch with their inner selves. ;)) I've also found it really cool that as my beliefs change, so does my emotional response to events.

I can't do the entire idea justice in a blog entry, but here's a quick overview. The core idea is that the most visible aspect of our emotion is the demonstratable action (D). And yes, someone was stretching for a mnemonic that could be remembered. Each event is the result of a triggering action (A). It had a cooler name, but I can't remember it. From the triggering action, one constructed the consequential feelings (C), and from the feelings one found the beliefs (B).

For example, I ran away from the dog (D). The triggering event (A) was seeing a large snarling dog weighing approximately 70.3lbs lumbering toward me at a rate of roughly 5mph. The feeling (C) was intense fear. The underlying belief: The the dog was going to attack and hurt me.

The idea is that often our beliefs are not rational to the situation. We read into situations or believe things that aren't true. As we more accurately understand what we actually saw verses what we believed, we can change our beliefs. For example, say I spend the day idle at work getting very little done. The trigger event was my boss ignoring me in the hall when I went into work 15 minutes late. The consequential feeling was nervousness because I believed that my boss was upset with me and will come chew me out. (Why was I so worried because my boss might be upset with me? Because I tend to link self-identity and my accomplishments at work together.)

It's helpful for me to realize that "my boss ignored me" is a belief; a more accurate statement is that "my boss did not greet me" - possibly he ignored me, or didn't see me, or was rushing off to an important meeting. I don't have any direct information about how my boss felt about my arriving at work 15 minutes late.

The other aspect of it is looking at whether or not a belief (such as whether or not my work performance should be so closely linked to my confidence) is biblical, and then looking at how our beliefs change.

Scream! and Other Scary Realities

So I've been thinking about my fears about how life and how they indicate my small view of God. In general, I think the formula to my fears is something like:

If X happens, then I will feel Y, and I don't believe God is big enough to offer Z.

For example, if I get into a car crash, then I will feel ashamed because I'm incompetent, and I don't believe God is big enough to offer comfort.

Or if I say something insultingly stupid to my boss, then I will feel nervous about the consequences, and I don't believe God is big and kind enough to provide for me anyway.

Or if God's nature is that he is sometimes harsh, then I'm scared about him ruling because I don't think he's big enough for me to love him if he's different than I imagine him.

Strange how I'm often more eager to know my image of God than the real one. Then again, I guess idolatry is a pretty old human sin.