Monthly Archives: November 2009

Are the Gospels Historically Reliable?

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New Testament scholar Craig Blomberg says they are, and he uses methods of critical historical inquiry to support his views.  Although at some points he takes the argument farther than necessary, on the whole he presents a strong and compelling case, looking in a detailed analysis at the Synoptics and John.

The most striking aspect of his argument came at the end when he noted we assume the Gospels to be generally historically reliable unless it is demonstrated clearly they are not.  This is the same assumption made for any historical document, especially ones so close in time and space to their events as the Gospels are.

The proper procedure for evaluating the historicity of any portion of the Gospels is thus to assume from the outset that its testimony is reliable and then to consider the force of various objections that might cause a person to change his or her mind.  Much critical scholarship, however, inverts this process altogether by assuming the Gospels to be unreliable unless powerful evidence can be brought forward in defense of specific passages or themes.  The type of evidence accepted in this latter enterprise is that which passes stringent ‘criteria of authenticity’.  Not surprisingly, many scholars who adopt this method accept a much smaller percentage of the Gospel material as authentic.  Clearly, much depends on one’s starting point.  (The Historical Reliability of the Gospels, p. 310)

Actually, Blomberg himself uses those very ‘criteria of authenticity’ to close his argument in the final chapter.  He presented a convincing case to me — not that the Gospels are perfectly accurate in every detail, but that they offer a generally reliable historical portrait of Jesus of Nazareth.  Their testimony (a key word) is a reliable bridge to Christ.

I agree with his assessment that the Gospels would be considered historically reliable without question were they not religious documents containing miraculous events; Blomberg notes, wryly, that in his visits to college campuses he has found far more openness to miracles among physicists than among biblical scholars and professors in religious studies departments.

That there is so much ambivalence and even hostility to the historically reliability of the Gospels has long mystified me.  I don’t know where the resistance comes from — all I know is that it is very real.  I read the first edition of his book twenty years ago.  This second, expanded edition has confirmed what I already knew — that the Gospels were written so that ‘we might know the certainty of the things we’ve been taught.”  (Lk. 1.4)

Sermon On Jesus Before Pilate

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If Christ Is King
John 18.28-38

Today is the last Sunday in the church year… Christ the King Sunday. Next week the church calendar starts anew as we begin Advent and look toward Christmas.

The scripture readings for today invite us to see Christ as our king, our ruler, our leader, and to look at what practical difference that makes for our lives.

The Gospel reading takes place early in the passion story in John. Christ has been arrested overnight and brought to Pilate’s headquarters in Jerusalem. His enemies want him put to death. They must come to Pilate because only the Romans can execute someone.

The scene takes place early in the morning, after first light. Pilate is a busy man… his day starts at dawn. A prisoner is brought to him. His clothes are stained with dirt and blood. His face is bruised and haggard… he’s not slept all night.

Pilate meets the delegation in the courtyard. There is an awkward pause at first; the only sound is water bubbling in a fountain. Pilate talks to the accusers. Then he brings the accused – Jesus – inside for further questioning. He needs to get to the bottom of things because there are other items on his agenda.

Pilate performs a cognitio… an inquiry. He asks Jesus questions to see if he is any threat to the peace of Rome. “They say you claim to be a king… are you a king? What have you done?”

Jesus answers in odd phrases. “My kingdom is not from here… Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Pilate listens to Jesus’ voice long enough to decide he is no threat. To a practical man like Pilate, Jesus sounds like a sage who wanders the countryside talking to people about the nature of truth. Pilate isn’t interested.

“What is truth?” he says to Jesus with a wave of his hand. But deep down, maybe a piece of him that wonders what truth really is.

It’s hard to imagine Jesus didn’t make an impression on Pilate. In my mind I see Jesus standing there in his royal calmness… at the mercy of these events, yet also strangely the master of these events. His whole manner of being suggests dignity and authority – Pilate can’t help but notice.

+++++

Our church’s midweek program for children meets each Wednesday at 4:30. The students rotate through Bible study, choir and activity times. Everyone eats dinner together at 5:45. Last week it was a full Thanksgiving meal with turkey, potatoes, stuffing, corn and pie.

When the program ends at 7 PM, everyone gathers in fellowship hall for a closing time. We all sit in a circle on the green and white tiles. Nancy leads the children in singing a song; then she lights a candle and asks them if they’ve had any ‘God-sightings’ this week.

The girls and boys respond with ways they’ve seen God at work in their lives lately. “I saw God when I …” Each child fills in the blank differently. Then parents arrive, and everyone dismisses to go home.

Pilate almost had a God-sighting at his work that morning. (If he’d been a child, maybe he would have.) God stood before him, in the form of a Mediterranean peasant named Jesus. But Pilate didn’t have the eyes to see.  Many people then and now don’t have the eyes to see either.

Jesus is a king, the king, but he is reluctant to tell Pilate this directly. Jesus is so unlike any king Pilate has ever seen. He is not a king of force, but a king of love.

Frederick Buechner said, “Love is the most powerful and the most powerless” of things. “Love is the most powerful because it alone can conquer the human heart. Love is the most powerless because it can do nothing except by consent.”

This is the kind of king Jesus was… a king who suffers, forgives and loves. Such a king was invisible to the Roman governor.

I wonder if later in his life Pilate remembered Jesus. Perhaps. But I doubt he’d have considered that one morning a key point of his career as a Roman official.

And he would have been astonished to learn that in 2000 years a billion people mention his name in worship every week: “He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried.”

+++++

I said earlier I’d talk about what practical difference Christ as king has in our lives. I don’t know what difference it means for everyone… I’ll just say what difference it makes for me to say Christ is my king.

First, it reminds me that things are not what they appear. Much of what God does is hidden from us, just as God’s presence in Jesus was hidden from Pilate’s eyes that morning. Reality is not what it seems, and things may be different from what I can perceive with my senses and limited understanding.

Second, seeing Christ as my king calms and encourages my heart. Illness, unemployment, loss – these seem such powerful things in our lives. They breed fear. I don’t diminish or downplay them, but having Christ as king puts these hard things in their proper place.

If Christ is king, then cancer is not the king. If Christ is king, then the economy is not the king. If Christ is king, then death is not the king. Do you see? If Christ is king — if he holds the only power that matters in the end — then I can trust him when other powers threaten me or people I love.

So seeing Christ as king helps me be peaceful, hopeful and even cheerful. Maybe it’s just a mental trick. I like to think of it as an ongoing act of faith.

Years ago at a church camp, I learned a scripture song, John 16.33. I’ll spare you singing it and simply share the words – words of Jesus himself – which have long been an encouragement to me:

“These things I have spoken unto you that in me you might have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But be of good cheer, be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.”

We face tribulations of our own, and they can make us sad or scared. I don’t have to tell you this. But we can be of good cheer because we don’t face these things alone and unprotected. We have a king who loves us, shields us and carries us close to his heart.

This is the difference it can make for us if Christ is king.

Stoic Practices

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Just finished reading A Guide to the Good Life {the ancient art of stoic joy} by William B. Irvine.  He writes in a non-technical style, and he interprets ancient Roman Stoics for a contemporary audience.  He believes Stoic practices can bring tranquility and release joy.

Among his suggested practices:

  1. Imagine losses in your life.  Thinking about how things might be worse helps you appreciate what you have now.
  2. Sift events into three categories:  what is wholly under your control, partly under your control, or not under your control at all.  Focus on the first two, and let the third go.
  3. Accept the past and the present moment for what they are.  You can only change the future.
  4. Use your reasoning ability to diminish anger and grief.
  5. Live a simple lifestyle.  More things do not satisfy.

Nos. 2, 3, and 5 seem particularly useful.  The early Christians integrated elements of Stoicism into their practice of Christianity.  Irvine isn’t a religious man — he incorporates Stoicism into a naturalist, evolutionary mindset in the final chapters.  As a philosophy of life, Stoicism can meld itself into different belief systems.

Chaplains at Fort Hood

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Ministering to the dead and wounded.

At first word of the shooting, Col. Edward McCabe, the highest-ranking Catholic chaplain on the post, broke up a meeting and sped over to the Carl R. Darnall Army Medical Center, where staffers were caring for about 15 of the wounded, he said.

“Total chaos,” he said. “Everyone’s running around. There are pools of blood on the floor and on the walls and on the medical staff uniforms.”

While he was there, one of the wounded died, McCabe said. He said a short prayer and used his thumb to place prayer oils on the forehead of Lt. Col. Juanita L. Warman, 55, of the 1908th Medical Company.

When he got to the nearby medical screening building where nine of the dead were taken, McCabe, who had done tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, started to shake.

“You’re looking at all these bodies and blood,” he said. “But I couldn’t allow this display of evil to control me.”

The following evening, when his cellphone finally quieted, he poured himself a few extra snifters of cognac. “That helped,” he said.

No doubt cognac would help.  There are 75 chaplains at Fort Hood.

In the opening battle sequence of Saving Private Ryan, there is a brief image of a chaplain helping a dying man on the beach say his last prayers.  The camera pans by quickly — it’s easy to miss the scene.

Sermon on Hannah

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Hannah’s Yearning (1 Sam 1.9-18)

A few months ago, a man named Don Hewitt died. He was a journalist and the creator of the 60 minutes news magazine. They did a retrospective on him, with interviews from previous years.

In one of those interviews, he said something that struck me: “I have never been interested in an issue. I am interested in stories about people facing issues.”

This is how I approach the Bible and preaching. I’m not interested in abstract issues, theoretical questions. “Why do bad things happen to good people?” I don’t know… because they do? It’s not that this is unimportant. It just needs some flesh and bone to it.

Give me a story about someone facing a hard issue, and then it comes alive.

Which brings us to our Bible story today. It’s on Hannah, who is facing an issue… childlessness. Hannah has no children, and she yearns for children of her own.

Hannah lived during the time of the Judges. It was a long period in Israel before King David centralized the state. During Hannah’s lifetime, Israel was a loose collection of tribes and peoples, each living and worshiping in its own way.

Hannah was married to Elkanah. He loved her very much, we are told, but no amount of love or consoling could make up for the absence of children for Hannah. The only children in their home belonged to Elkanah’s other wife, Peninnah. He was wealthy enough to have two wives.

Yes… this is a stranger aspect of the Bible, the polygamy in the Old Testament. We might marry more than one person in our life, but not at the same time. We don’t have to condone this practice in the Old Testament, only acknowledge that it was part of that time.

Actually it was fortunate for Hannah that her husband had another wife who had children. Back then, children were your insurance policy in old age. They didn’t have Medicare or retirement plans. You had to have children to make sure you were cared for when you were old.

Since Peninnah had children, that meant all three adults – Elkanah, Peninnah and Hannah – would have someone to care for them when they grew old.

But it was also unfortunate for Hannah because she and Peninnah didn’t get along well. There was a rivalry. Peninnah lost no opportunity to remind Hannah of her childlessness. Hannah lived every day yearning for children of her own.

You’d have to be childless yourself to understand Hannah’s yearning. The young couple today struggling with infertility can understand Hannah.

But we can take the emotion of yearning itself… this we know and understand. We yearn for something we might have but don’t have. The possibility of it happening adds the pathos and pain.

(We also can yearn for things that are not possible to have, but that’s a different kind of yearning. Hannah’s yearning points us to yearning for possible things.)

Think of the woman who yearns to talk to a brother she hasn’t talked to in 20 years. The phone is there… they could talk… but they won’t today. She yearns to hear his voice. Or think of the rehab patient who yearns to walk again… she makes a little progress day by day, but the goal seems so far away… she just wants to be able to walk across the room and not rely on other people for help. Or think of the man who stares at a computer screen all day at his work, but he really yearns to make his living as an artist. He loves to paint.

You can think of more examples… or you can identify yearnings in your own life. And you can understand the feeling Hannah lived with.

But Hannah not only helps us identify our yearnings, she also helps us cope with them. She shows us two practical things we can do in response to the deepest yearnings of our hearts.

Every year Hannah and her family made a pilgrimage to Shiloh. It was a village up in the hill country. There was a stone temple for worship. The family would go, offer sacrifices and pray, or have the priest pray on their behalf. They’d stay for a few days and then return home.

On one of these trips, Hannah left the tent where they were staying, late one afternoon while it was still light. She walked slowly toward the stone temple at the top of the hill. She weaved her way through the scrub brush, and she listened to the sound of the wind.

When she reached the temple, she paused. Then we are told, “She presented herself before the Lord.” Let me rephrase that. Hannah went to her sacred place, a place where she sensed the presence of God.

Do you have a sacred place? Do you know of a place where you sense a presence beyond yourself? If you don’t, you should. We all need a sacred place.

For many, this sanctuary is a sacred place. It’s our temple, made out of Indiana limestone. We come here to seek a presence beyond ourselves, as Hannah did.

I’d say there are three things that make this sanctuary sacred. The public reading of scripture, the music sung or performed, and the prayers prayed – these are sacred acts, and they’ve made this room a sacred place.

There are other sacred places, beyond the walls of a church building. My sacred places lately involve trees. I don’t know why. The oak tree out by fellowship hall… the pear tree at the back door… the maple trees out front. Trees mark sacred places for me.

There is a stand of oak trees on the campus of the old training school. It’s the oldest grove of oaks in the state, up to 200 years old. If you walk among them, you feel so small… the trees reach up so high. They’re so tall they draw your eyes upward… which is exactly what happens when you walk into a cathedral, where the architecture is designed to draw your eyes upward. Those oak trees are nature’s cathedral… they’re a sacred place.

If you don’t have a sacred place, find one. When you go there, take your yearnings with you, as Hannah did. That’s the first step Hannah shows us.

But once she was there, Hannah did something. It says she was ‘praying silently’ to the Lord. She began talking to the presence she sensed in that sacred place.

We all conceive of this presence differently. Most people call the presence God. But in whatever way you understand God, talk to God, once you’ve reached your sacred place.

This is what it means to have a spirituality. You have a sacred place, and you talk to the presence you find there.

Other people may misunderstand your actions. Eli the priest at Shiloh thought Hannah was drunk at first. But it doesn’t matter. Your spirituality can be real and authentic even if others don’t get it. Hannah’s was certainly genuine.

Years ago I knew a couple who struggled with infertility, as Hannah did. In church one day, the husband talked about it and about his prayers during that time. He said at first he prayed, ‘Lord, help my wife to get pregnant.’ But it didn’t happen. Then, for some reason, he changed the prayer to ‘Lord, help us have a baby.’ Right after this, an unexpected opportunity for adoption fell out of the sky into their lives. It was the first of two adoptions for them.

I don’t know that prayer always works this way – it’s not this linear. But talking to God, taking your yearnings to God, this is a part of the process of how things happen in our lives.

And we are changed in the experience. After Hannah prayed, she went back to their tent. It says she ate and drank with her husband, and her face was sad no longer. The act of going to her sacred place and talking to the presence she found there, this lifted the yearning from her heart for a time. It gave her peace.

Of course there’s a happy ending to the story. Hannah has a son, Samuel. When he’s weaned, she’ll take him back to the temple and dedicate him to God’s service. She gives him up for adoption, so to speak.

God gave her a gift, and she gave it back. It’s a touching thing. Later on she’ll have three more boys and two girls.

But I don’t want to leave the focus today on Hannah the happy parent. I’m thinking more about Hannah the childless nobody, who went to her sacred place and talked to the presence she found there – God as she understood God. And what does this God do? God listens to her. God listens to all of us nobodies… to God, we’re somebody.

A last thought. Hannah’s name means grace. Her name points our attention to the gracious God who listens to our yearnings, dreams and heartaches… and weaves them and builds them mysteriously into something strong and beautiful.

That’s what Hannah’s story can tell us today.

A Good Father

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USA Today’s David Leon Moore looks at three sons of famous fathers, all playing on the same high school football team in southern California.

Joe Montana’s son appreciates his Dad’s influence in his life:

Nick Montana is the one who is striding directly in his father’s footsteps. But he seems completely unfazed by whatever pressure that puts on him.

“I think of it as a blessing,” says Nick, a 6-3, 195-pound senior who has committed to accepting a scholarship from the University of Washington. “I can go to him for any help. He doesn’t put pressure on me. To have a guy like that to go to is awesome.”

The others are Trevor Gretzky, son of hockey’s Wayne Gretzky, and Trey Smith, son of actor Will Smith.

The article reminded me of the importance of fatherhood itself.  Although he died when I was 18, my father shaped me in many ways.  I often think of him.  People have told me I would have made a good father.

Sermon on Ruth and Boaz

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The Proposal
Ruth 3.1-11

There once was a woman named Ruth. She lived in the land of Moab, east of Israel, just across the Dead Sea. It was a barren, desert land – rocky, with lots of hills. Today we call it the Kingdom of Jordan.

We would know nothing of Ruth except for one thing – she married a young Israelite named Kilion. Her sister Orpah married his brother. Kilion’s family had moved from Israel to Moab in search of food. There was a famine in Israel. Today we’d say there was an economic downturn in Israel, and they had moved looking for work. Then and now people migrate for these reasons.

After her marriage, Ruth had a string of hard luck. Her husband died; his brother died, and her father-in-law died. That left the three women—Ruth, Orpah and their mother-in-law Naomi—without any means of support. They were destitute. They had to do something.

Orpah decided to stay in the land of Moab. She went back to her family to start over. But Ruth chose to go with Naomi back to the land of Israel. She loved her mother-in-law and was devoted to her. In going she said those words heard today at weddings: ‘Where you go, I will go; and were you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God.’ That comes from the Book of Ruth.

After their journey on foot, Ruth and Naomi made it back to the land of Israel. Ruth went to work immediately, gleaning in the field. It was harvest time. The law allowed the poor to walk behind the harvesters and pick up any grain left behind. The good harvester would deliberately leave grain for the poor, like Ruth, to take home.

Ruth caught the attention of the owner of the field, Boaz, and he started to look out for her. He made sure she stayed safe.

Now there’s conjecture in what I’m going to say, but it’s probably true. Naomi was hoping Boaz would take more than a passing interest in Ruth. She hoped he’d marry her. But he didn’t pursue that with Ruth. So Naomi decided to help him figure it out. Like a lot of men, Boaz was slow to get what his role in the drama was to be. Naomi was going to help him.

Sometimes when I’m slow to figure something out, my wife says to me, ‘Here’s you [pointing to left] and here’s the point [pointing to right].’ In the same way, Boaz hadn’t gotten the point yet, and Naomi was going to help him figure it out.

She knew that the next afternoon, Boaz would be outside threshing the grain. He’d throw the grain up in the air, and let the breeze take away the bad parts. The good parts would fall back to the ground. He’d be tired afterward from all the work; he’d have a drink, and then he’d go to sleep next to his pile of grain. The next morning he’d cart it away. This was Naomi’s opportunity.

She told Ruth to take a bath. Good point… it’s always important to take a bath before you make a marriage proposal. Then she was supposed to perfume herself and put on nice clothes. After Boaz had fallen asleep next to his pile of grain, Ruth was to creep up to him quietly, uncover his feet, and lie down next to him. Then she was to wait. Boaz would know what to do when he woke.

So Ruth did just this. She uncovered his feet and lay down next to him.

People aren’t sure what the uncovering of the feet means. Whatever else, it was a provocative thing to do. I imagine Boaz wasn’t wearing any pajama bottoms. And how far did Ruth uncover him? We don’t know.

The action probably meant one of two things. Either Ruth was saying, ‘I want you to have sex with me.’ Or she was saying, ‘I want you to marry me.’

Once Boaz woke, Ruth immediately made it clear that it was the latter… she wanted him to marry her. Ruth was proposing marriage. Boaz was flattered. I imagine no woman had ever proposed marriage to him. Finally, he got the point… he needed to take care of Ruth. She would be faithful and loving to him, just as she had been to Naomi. Boaz accepted the proposal.

+++++

The movie The Proposal stars Sandra Bullock, playing Margaret, a high powered publishing executive. She’s known more for making deals than being kind or gracious.

One day Margaret faces a problem, an immigration problem. She’s about to be deported back to Canada, where she was born. On the spot, she comes up with a solution. She forces—blackmails, really—her assistant, a young man named Andrew, to marry her so that she can stay in the country.

In the scene you are about to see, Andrew and Margaret have just seen an immigration official, who immediately smelled something fishy about this quick marriage. Andrew has learned that he faces up to five years in prison and a big fine for marrying under false pretenses, which is what he’s doing. This scene happens next…

[19:29—21:54, Margaret proposing to Andrew on her knees on the sidewalk]

I commend the movie The Proposal to you. It has rich themes on the meaning of marriage and the importance of honesty. I don’t want to give the ending away, but I’ll just say that the Sandra Bullock character, Margaret, goes through a reeducation in the film. She learns what it is to be a human being, faithful and loving.

In our scripture, Ruth already knows what it is to be a faithful and loving human being. Her proposal is much different than Margaret’s in the movie clip. Ruth’s is genuine, honest and sincere. And Boaz knows it… he knows everything about Ruth, how kind and loyal and hardworking she is. He’s eager to make the match. He has some legal details to work out (we don’t need to go into the details), but once that’s done he marries Ruth.

In time, Boaz and Ruth have a child together. In time, that child grows up and has children. And eventually Ruth becomes the great-grandmother of King David. She takes her part in the family tree of Jesus himself. All because Ruth took Naomi’s advice and made her proposal.

+++++

The Book of Ruth is a lovely story. You can read it in about 15 minutes. It’s one of the most beautiful stories in the Bible.

What strikes me about Ruth, at least reading her story this time, is her character. Specifically how she blends together two opposite things. Ruth is humble and bold. Some people are humble, but not bold. Others are bold, but not humble. Ruth is both—it’s a rare thing and lovely to watch in action.

When Ruth uncovered Boaz’s feet, this was a bold thing to do. Took a lot of courage. It reminds me of that bumper sticker you see sometimes: ‘Well-behaved Women Don’t Make History.’ Exactly. Not that Ruth is behaving badly… but she is behaving boldly. But she seasons it with humility—she is gentle, quiet, faithful and kind. Boaz saw that, which is why he was so eager to make the match… after he got the point, that is.

I’m guessing there is someone here today listening to this message right now who is in a situation like Ruth’s. You need to make a proposal. You need to nudge someone so they get the point. You need to uncover someone’s feet.

It may be a spouse you need to nudge, or a friend, or an employer, or a potential employer, but you know who it is. You need to make a proposal to them. But you’re scared to do it. A big piece of you doesn’t want to do it. ‘What will they think of me?’ you say. ‘I’ve never done this before.’

If that’s you, I’d say let Ruth be your model. Be bold, but humble. Make your proposal. Nudge them. Uncover their feet. Then step back and wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing will happen—if so, that’s okay, nothing lost. But maybe something will happen, something astonishing… something you never expected to happen. Maybe people who haven’t even been born yet will benefit from your bold action now.

So do it. Make your proposal… and wait for what will happen. Amen.

Study Bibles and Messy Spirituality

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A parishioner recently asked me what study Bible to use.  I mentioned to her the New Oxford Annotated, a classic scholarly resource.  I used an older version of the NOA in seminary 20 years ago.

As an afterthought, I also brought up the newly published Wesley Study Bible.  “I’ve not used it myself,” I said, “but the reviews are good.  Bishop Will Willimon was one of the editors.”

She bought the WSB and says it’s just what she was looking for.

I used to be too much of a purist to appreciate study Bibles.  I didn’t want notes cluttering up the pages of scripture, getting in the way of the Spirit’s voice.  But time has softened me on this.

Now I often use the Student Bible, a study edition we give to our young confirmands when they join the church.  The notes, written by Philip Yancey and Tim Stafford, connect to daily Christian experience.  The reading plans are excellent.

Here’s a typical comment, coming from Psalm 27:

The Psalms are not pious devotionals.  They bristle against enemies who scheme and gossip and plot violence.  For the psalmists, faith in God involves a constant struggle against powerful forces that may seem more real than God.  The writers often feel abandoned, misused, betrayed.

These words hit the mark with me and helped the Psalms come alive in a new way.  Not that I live surrounded by enemies — mine are internal.  But these words reminded me of the messiness of spirituality.  It’s never a neat and tidy affair.

The best study Bibles shed light on our life with God in this way and help us see the way forward.

When the Pastor Has Green Hair

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This is what it looks like…

green pastor

It was ‘Horrible Hair Night’ at our Wednesday program for children, and an inner voice told me I should have green hair for the occasion.  A can of Color Bomb 2 applied by a laughing parishioner gave me ‘funky hair that rocks.’

It amused the children at dinner… as well as the adults who later attended the All Church Conference with the District Superintendent. Having green hair attracts attention.  It’s also a freeing thing — you get to be playful like a child for a while.

The color washed out easily.  I am back to conventional hair now.  Sigh.

Is Eternal Life Boring?

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Todd May, a philosophy professor at Clemson, thinks life would get ‘boring’ if we lived forever, doing the same things again and again.  The very finitude of life guarantees its preciousness.

I prefer to think that the paradox of death is the source not of despair but instead of the limited hope that is allotted to us as human beings. We cannot live forever, to be sure, but neither would we want to. We ought not to mind the fact that we will die, although we really would rather that it not be today. Probably not tomorrow either. But it is precisely because we cannot control when we will die, and know only that we will, that we can look upon our lives with the seriousness they merit. Death takes away from us no more than it has conferred: lives whose significance lies in the fact they are not always with us.

I agree the fact of death adds weight and value to the preciousness of life now.  But I disagree with Dr. May that living forever needs to be boring.  In Christian theology, exemplified in Gregory of Nyssa, eternal life is not a static thing — it involves movement, progression and continued growth in love.

The triune God is an ever-pulsing movement of love flowing back and forth.  How then could a vision of God ever be boring?  Whatever else participation in Divine Love is, it isn’t boring.

My understanding of eternal life is here.

The Uses of Denim

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A look at the rise of ‘power jeans’ worn by world leaders.

Power jeans are increasingly common in high-ranking business and political circles. Indeed, jeans are now a legitimate part of the global power-dress lexicon, worn to influential confabs where the wearers want to signal they’re serious—but not fussy—and innovative.

The jeans must look neat and clean.  No sloppiness.  Other articles of clothing in the mix matter too — Nicolas Sarkozy and Dmitry Medvedev in the link above match their jeans with a nice shirt and blazer.

The irony is that we wear jeans when we want to be comfortable and don’t worry so much about how we look, but leaders wear ‘power jeans’ specifically to foster an image:  ‘I am serious and innovative.’  Ahh… the uses of denim.

Twenty years ago I left Nevada, where folks wore boots and jeans to church, and moved to New Jersey, where they wore suits and dresses to church.  I think the dress code for church is relaxing, though; here in Michigan I see more people wearing jeans, nice jeans, to church.

What do you call jeans suitable for worship?  Praise Jeans.

Conversation In the Courtroom Hallway

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Three bits of conversation in the hallway outside County District Court 2:

First Man:  What do they got you for?
Second Man:  Home invasion and unarmed robbery.
First Man:  Ohh…
Second Man:  I’m not worried… at most it’ll be Assault & Battery.

Attorney 1:  You’ve been charged with Attempted Larceny.
Older Man:  What is that?
Attorney 1:  It means trying to take something that isn’t yours.

Attorney 2:  How many felonies do you have on your record?
Young man:  Just one.

Just one felony. Going to the courthouse is like stepping into a parallel universe.  Life is so different there.

The Needs of the Unchurched

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New England has passed the Pacific Northwest as the least religious area of the country.  The ten least religious states in the US include all six in New England, the land of the early Puritans. 

This has drawn conservative Baptist missionaries to the region, but they’ve found the fields hard to plough:

“About once every hour, I give up. It’s tough, man,” said a half-joking Joe Souza, a Southern Baptist missionary working north of Boston. “It’s like, you found a cure for cancer and you want to give it away and nobody wants it.”

Mainline churches attribute their decline in New England to the ‘insularity’ of their congregations, which have lost touch with needs in the wider society. 

The Rev. Paul Nickerson, a church planting specialist at the UCC’s Massachusetts Conference, said local churches declined because of a creeping insularity, not because “we’re theologically inept.” Progressive churches that refocus on the needs of the unchurched are growing, he said.

What are the needs of the unchurched?  I’m guessing Joe Souza would say they need Jesus, and Paul Nickerson would say they need universal health care.  Maybe they need both.