Author: Jim Spiegel

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The Destiny of Everyone

By Jim Spiegel

British author and statesman Horace Walpole reputedly said that life is a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel. I have personally concluded that life is a tragicomedy—both at the individual level and human history is a whole.

“Under the sun,” as Qoheleth, the writer of Ecclesiastes, would say, you really can’t win. If you are fortunate enough to live a long life, then this guarantees you are also destined to experience the death of many close friends and loved ones and will be subjected to the slow deterioration of your body and mind before passing away.

I have reached my 60s, and have lost many friends and loved ones in a variety of distressing ways: accidents, diseases, murder, and suicide. The latter has been the saddest and most difficult of all to cope with, because it compounds the sorrow of loss with so many other negative emotions, often including anger and disappointment with the loved one who made such a devastating choice. It is also a stinging reminder of how hard this world is for everyone. Many of us have considered suicide even if we haven’t attempted it. Even the most happy and flourishing human life on this planet is marked with much sadness and difficulty. As Scripture says, “man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7).

Of course, we have hope—Gospel hope. Christ has conquered death. And if we bind ourselves closely to him, we will ride his resurrection to our own resurrection glory. But that doesn’t remove all of the agony of this realm. It is all still a tragic comedy. That the God-man himself was a “man of sorrows” (Isa. 53:3) who suffered and died in the most ignominious and disgusting of ways is a stark reminder of this fact.

It appears that God has ordered this cursed realm in such a way as to force us to one of two extremes: utter despair or transcendent Hope. All of the suffering and death simply rules out naïve optimism. Yes, there are those who coldly say, “life is just hard; deal with it” and go about their business with few tears or ringing of hands in existential angst. But that attitude is itself a masked form of despair.

The choice of despair—and yes, for many it is a choice—is a surrender to tragic sadness, a decision to reject Hope and ultimate joy. Put in those terms, it might seem strange that so many people choose to surrender to despair. But it is because the alternative—the choice for Hope—is itself so hard to make, since it requires self-denial to the extreme—e.g., forgiving others unconditionally and abiding by the Golden Rule, etc. No one likes this. In fact, self-denial goes against fallen human nature; it is a wonder that any of us manage to pull it off. I suppose it is a sort of moral miracle, given the natural human tendency to pride and selfishness.

Whenever a loved one dies, and we gather together to quietly mourn. hug, cry, share stories, etc., we experience a communal helplessness that emphatically declares what a pathetic lot we really are. We are in desperate need of hope. That is a fundamental human fact. In the ordinary course of daily life, we tend to forget or ignore this. But death forces us to pay attention. As Qoheleth, says, “death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take it to heart” (Eccl. 7:2).

Those who do pay close attention, who dwell upon the reality of death more than most, are sometimes called morbid. And surely there is a potential vice here—that of dwelling on aspects of death for the sake of entertainment. That is clearly not the sort of attitude the Qoheleth is getting at. It is the inevitability of death and its final existential implications for us—that is what we should be taking to heart. You will die one day, perhaps very soon. Then your permanent reality begins. That certainly is something to take to heart and mindfully prepare for, however healthy or youthful you might happen to be right now.

So let us pay close attention, and I believe that if we do, and we embrace gospel hope, including all of its implications for self-denial, it is precisely then that death loses some of its sting and we can rejoice that life in this world is not a pure tragedy.

I conclude with these song lyrics that I wrote a few years ago while trying to heed Qoheleth’s counsel:

Dear Death, you dress for all occasions. / From the fog of war to sunny days with children playing. / Whether we’re doing our worst or best, / You’re always an unwelcomed guest / Who declares just how long we are staying.

Dear Death, somewhere in your dark eyes / Is the true confession of every human lie. / In search of greater powers, / We took what was not ours / And made a prison out of Paradise.

Dear Death, your presence feels more like a void, / Whenever we dwell upon what you’ve destroyed. / Every soothing friendship lost, / Every deep love double-crossed / Reminds us of the one thing we can’t avoid.

Dear Death, you cast a shadow cruel and long. / You’ve made a home in every place you don’t belong. / Even a young mother’s womb / You turn into a tomb /And somehow haunt the most joyous song.

Dear Death, I suppose it is not by chance / That even Jesus Christ asked you to dance. / There in that simple waltz / He made true what once was false / And welcomed us into a great romance.

Dear Death, is that your cold hand on my shoulder? / With each day it seems your overtures grow bolder. / But the music continues to play, / And it is a solace to say, / One day, yes, even you will not grow older.

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Making an Enemy of Satan

By Jim Spiegel

As Christians, we believe that Satan is not only real but the enemy of our souls. This is a clear teaching of Scripture. The Apostle Paul tells us to “put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes” (Eph. 6:11). And Peter says, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Pet. 5:8). So Satan and other demonic forces are real. They despise us. And they actively seek, and often succeed in causing, our harm.

Many times when going through a severe trial that obviously involves spiritual warfare, I have found myself thinking along these lines: “What did I ever do to these dark entities to warrant their hatred? I have never done anything to harm Satan and his imps. So why do they hate me so much?”

Perhaps you have had the same thought. If not, then at least you now have this thought.  And perhaps you understand my perplexity. But there is a good explanation, which can be summed up as follows.

    • Demonic beings are evil and hate what is good, especially He who is most holy—God.
    • To follow Jesus is to befriend him and join forces with the holy God.
    • To join forces with the holy is to make an enemy of Satan and work against him.
    • To work against Satan is to make him your enemy.
    • To make an enemy of Satan is to elicit attacks from his forces. Such attacks are often painful, frightening, and even devastating. But it’s part of the deal.

So, Christian, are you ready and willing to be an enemy of Satan? Well, actually, that’s a silly question. If you are truly following Christ, you already are.

This, of course, means that, as a Christian, you should expect to suffer. And this is why Jesus tells us we must “take up the cross” and follow him. His suffering, culminating in crucifixion, was a direct and devastating demonic attack. As his children, should we expect anything different? No, we should not. The Scriptures are clear about this. Peter says, “If you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” (1 Pet. 2:20-21). And Paul writes, “To you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake.” (Phil. 1:29).

But what is the use of all of our suffering? Didn’t Jesus do all of that for us? Why must we suffer as well? In short, to share in his glory. Yes, it is a staggeringly wonderful thought. But, again, the biblical writers are clear on this. Paul says, “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.” (Rom. 8:16-17). Elsewhere, he writes, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection of the dead.” (Phil. 3:10-11). And Peter tells us to “rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.” (1 Pet. 4:13)

Not only this, but we are guaranteed to become better through our suffering. As James says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,  whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

The true follower of Jesus must suffer. If you are a friend of Jesus you are an enemy of Satan and will be targeted by him. But this only binds you closer to Jesus and will make you better. So your suffering with him means you will share in his glory and be more like him. Again, it is part of the deal—a mind-blowingly wonderful deal.

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Time Waits for No One

By Jim Spiegel

I enjoy watching enhanced, colorized versions of very old videos like this and this and this.

They provide a healthy dose of perspective—a reminder that our time on this planet goes by very quickly. One day you are young and, before you know it, you are gone.

The flight of time and the human mutability it entails is a timeless theme in literature and music. I was first struck by this theme as a young teenager listening to the Rolling Stones song “Time Waits for No One.” While not renowned for tackling serious themes in their songs, much less in a profoundly poetic way, this one really got my attention:

Star-crossed in pleasure
The stream flows on by.
Yes, as we’re sated in leisure
We watch it fly.

Time waits for no one, and it won’t wait for me.

Time can tear down a building
Or destroy a woman’s face.
Hours are like diamonds.
Don’t let them waste.

Time waits for no one
No favors has he.
Time waits for no one
And it won’t wait for me.

Men, they build towers to their passing
Yes, to their fame everlasting.
Here he comes chopping and reaping.
Hear him laugh at their cheating.

And time waits for no man
And it won’t wait for me.
Yes, time waits for no one
And it won’t wait for me.

Drink in your summer.
Gather your corn.
The dreams of the night time
Will vanish by dawn.

But time waits for no one,
And it won’t wait for me.

This song’s message grows only more powerful as the years roll on. For the two young men who composed it, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, are now in their mid-80s.

A much older and far more influential song conveys the same message in the form of a prayer:

Show me, Lord, my life’s end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is.

You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath,
even those who seem secure.

This song, now known as Psalm 39, was written 3000 years ago by David, King of Israel. He, too, was once young and seemingly invincible, but time didn’t wait for him either.

Nor will it wait for us. The lesson? David’s son, Solomon, summed it up well when he said,

Death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart. (Eccl. 7:2)

That same writer, Qoheleth, concluded that book by declaring,

Now all has been heard;
here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
for this is the duty of all mankind.
For God will bring every deed into judgment,
including every hidden thing,
whether it is good or evil. (Eccl. 12:13-14)

Although our lives fly by, the way we live while we are here does have eternal ramifications. If ever there was incentive to take seriously one’s pursuit of the Good, this is it.

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Intellectual Molting: Shedding the Dead Theological Skin of Poor Concepts of God

By Jim Spiegel

I know a young man who is struggling with his faith. Not in the sense that he’s questioning the reality of God. Rather, he seems to be calling into question the adequacy of his particular concept of God, which is proving to be too small as his educational journey is stretching his mind. This is a common experience for young Christian college students, whose intellectual discoveries often apply pressure on the concept of God with which they have operated since childhood. I call it intellectual molting—the shedding of rigid or narrow rational categories when one’s intellect outgrows them in the educational process.

For those who experience this in an unhealthy academic context (e.g., one that is primarily agnostic, atheistic, rigidly fundamentalist, or otherwise hostile to nuanced religious commitment), the turn to religious skepticism or cynicism is a common result. In such cases, it is not only the “old skin” of a small God concept that is thrown off. Belief in God itself may be tossed away. But in a community context that is friendly to faith-infused academic inquiry, one’s God concept is more likely to be adjusted “upward.” The dry, grey, dead skin of outworn theological categories is displaced by the emergence of rich, healthy colors of more robust, biblically orthodox categories.

Former President of Taylor University, Jay Kesler, used to say that when a student told him “I no longer believe in God,” he would reply, “Well, tell me what kind of ‘God’ you no longer believe in, and maybe I don’t believe in him either.” This reply is not only disarming. It is also true.

There are many falsely rigid or distorting God concepts that severely limit or even ultimately kill faith. To the extent one nurses these concepts, one’s faith will either die or remain stunted. A vibrant, biblical faith will survive only to the extent that one’s concept of God expands to properly biblical proportions.

The need for theological category molting is often manifest in the sorts of questions one asks, such as:

    • “Why does God exist?”
    • “What if God stops existing?”
    • “Does God know what is happening to me?”
    • “What if he is unable to fix my situation?”
    • “What if God decides not to forgive us?”

Such are the sorts of questions I have been asked over the years that are indicative of a small concept of God

The first two questions reveals a failure to understand that God is self-existent. (See Exod. 3:14; Ps. 90:2; John 5:26.) He is not the sort of being that depends on other things to exist. Any given tree, rock, human, planet, or quasar is contingent and may or may not have existed. In fact, at one time in the distant past (~14.2 billion years ago) the entire cosmos did not exist. Then it came into existence. But God never came into existence. Not only has he always existed, his existence is metaphysically necessary. He could never not have existed. In this way, God is fundamentally different than anything in the physical world. He is not just another being. God is unique in his self-existence. He is, in the most absolute metaphysical sense, one of a kind.

The third question reveals a failure to grasp divine omniscience: God knows all things—past, present, and future. (See Ps. 139:1-6; 1 John 3:20; Isa. 46:9-10.) This means God transcends time and space. The omniscient divine mind is constantly aware of everything all at once. If this is mind-boggling, it should be. Even if we only grant that God pays attention to every human prayer, we land in something inconceivable. It is estimated that there are about 6.5 billion prayers offered every day by human beings on this planet. If the average length of those prayers is about ten seconds, then (assuming my math is correct) at any given moment God is listening to about 752,000 prayers. Have you ever tried paying attention to just two people talking at once? It is overwhelming. What kind of mind can pay careful attention to hundreds of thousands of people simultaneously?! And given the size of the cosmos, this is just the beginning of divine omniscience.

The fourth question reveals a failure to understand that God is infinite in power. That is, God is omnipotent. (See Jer. 32:17; Ps. 115:3; Matt. 19:26; Luke 1:37.) He not only can do all things (that are logically possible), he actually experiences no resistance in achieving his ends. That is, although fallen beings often strive to resist God, since his power is absolute, there is no exhaustion or difficulty of divine effort in thwarting them. Infinite power can never be the least bit diminished.

Finally, the fifth question, about God changing his mind, reveals a failure to understand divine immutability. (See Num. 23:19; Mal. 3:6; Heb. 13:8; James 1:17.) The essence of God does not and cannot change. And this includes his moral character, which is what is at stake when it comes to God keeping his promises, whether for forgiveness of sin or anything else. Divine immutability is guaranteed by the perfection of God. If God’s character changed, such change would be for the better or worse. If for the better, then God was imperfect to begin with, which is absurd. If for the worse, then God would have become imperfect, which again is absurd. So God must be eternally, immutably perfect, which means his promises will all be fulfilled and his resolve to forgive all of his children who submit to him in obedient faith will never be revoked.

These are the divine attributes that many young (and some older) Christians fail to properly understand. This is sad, because lacking this robust, biblically orthodox concept of God will, one way or another, be manifested in doubts, anxieties, or difficulties in trusting the promises of God. So if you have chronic struggles in these ways, it is probably a good idea to do an inventory of your views on the divine attributes. Is your God concept a healthy one? If not, then perhaps some intellectual molting is in order.

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The Best and Worst of 2025

By Jim Spiegel

It has been another exciting year for the Spiegel family—more transitions and making new friends. In August Jim commenced his work as Executive Director of the Center for Faith & Life at Geneva College in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania. He has rolled on to the Board of the Kalos Center and now hosts the Kalos Center Podcast on a part-time basis. Amy continued her work in Institutional Advancement at Hillsdale College but now working remotely in a role well-suited to her interests and skills. Maggie is a sophomore majoring in English at Wayne State University. Sam graduated from Taylor University last January. He is currently working for State Farm Insurance in Detroit and planning to attend graduate school next Fall. Bailey has been rooming with Sam in Detroit while working at Mad Nice Italian Restaurant, building on his art portfolio, and applying to MFA programs. And Andrew is a freshman at Hillsdale College, where he will likely major in Philosophy and Religion. We are excited about all of these developments, as our kids continue to grow into interesting and ambitious adults. Our family conversations about art, culture, philosophy, theology, and politics are more stimulating and enriching than ever. As usual, we are closing out the year with summary remarks about good and bad stuff related to film, music, books, sports, food, and family.

Film Experiences 

Jim: I’ll go from bad to best here, starting with Killers of the Flower Moon (2023) a somniferous waste of three hours, despite Leonardo DiCaprio’s lead role. Much better was Smile 2 (2024), which Maggie convinced me to see. I’m not into horror and generally avoid the genre, though my cousin Scott Spiegel (who, sadly, died this past year) made a Hollywood career out of directing horror films. My daughter seems to be the one in our family who inherited Scott’s love of horror. Anyway, Smile 2 scared me spitless. And Naomi Scott’s lead performance as a demonically tortured pop star was brilliant. I was enthralled by Anatomy of a Fall (2023), a carefully crafted French legal drama about the mysterious death of a husband and father. The acting was tremendous, and the film’s gradual plot revelations land hard. The film is also instructive regarding French criminal court procedure, which is fascinating. I’ve enjoyed the first season of Pluribus, the latest series from the mind of Vince Gilligan, the creator of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. The thought-provoking science fiction premise of Pluribus alone makes it worth watching. My favorite film this year was Small Things Like These (2024), an historical drama set in Ireland in the 1980s. It is an exquisitely directed and acted film that reaches into your soul.

Amy: I find myself at a distinct disadvantage because Jim has already named several of my favorites from this year, Small Things Like These being at the top of the list by a mile. I also enjoyed Everything Everywhere All at Once, which was flawed, but creative and well-acted. I am happy to report that Wake Up Dead Man, the third in the Knives Out series, was a vast improvement over the second, which is like saying eating ice cream is a vast improvement over a root canal. We’ve been enjoying Ken Burns’ American Revolution series on PBS, though it has taken us twice as long to watch because I keep insisting that we pause, fact-check and discuss every five minutes. Another highlight on the doc scene was I Like Me, a documentary about the life and work of John Candy. Named for a line from one of our family’s holiday favorites (Planes, Trains and Automobiles), it was exactly like so many of his great performances: funny, tragic, and touchingly human. The highlight of my film-viewing this year was actually at the movie theater, a rare occurrence these days. Andrew and I saw an unintentional double-feature spanning two nights when Mission Impossible: Final Reckoning self-destructed with just ten minutes to go and we had to come back the next night. We came early and amused ourselves by “guessing” upcoming plot twists. While not the best movie in the series, the stunts are out of this world and Tom Cruise’s dedication to his craft is commendable.

Food and Music

Amy’s Best Food Experiences of the Year: This year saw a lot of meals with friends and family which become more meaningful to me as they become less frequent. My mom, Sam and I had the pleasure of eating at Bailey’s restaurant with him as our server, which was very fun. I also got the chance to eat at Pierpont’s at Union Station in Kansas City with work colleagues. The excellence of the food was only surpassed by the exceptional service. But my highlight would be the discovery of The Deck Down Under, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant located a few miles from our home in Jonesville where we shared a couple of meals first with the boys just prior to their moving to Detroit and then with Andrew and his girlfriend to celebrate his high school graduation. Again, great food and service (truffle fries so good you want to duck under the table and lick the plate), but it was the conversation and laughter I will treasure most. 

Jim’s Best Musical Experiences of the Year: I didn’t get out to see any concerts this year, but I did discover a lot of exciting new artists (well, new to me anyway), including Annika Kilkenny, Maya Hawke, Rob J Madin, Ray Lamontagne, Great Grandpa, Lily Allen, Birdtalker, Hurray for the Riff Raff and, my favorite: Geese. Their album 3D Country caught my attention at the suggestion of my son, Sam. Then came their current album, Getting Killed. Unlike their previous stuff, the band’s approach on this album feels entirely improvisational. Think Lift to Experience meets Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks with a dash of The Grateful Dead. Front man and lyricist Cameron Winter is a unique, compelling persona, confirmed by the fact that he was recently parodied on SNL. Sam and Bailey saw Geese live in Detroit a few months ago. And Sam was able to get a pic with the band after the concert, as you can see here.

Sports

Jim’s Favorite Sports Moments of the Year: 2025 was another year of “almosts” for my teams. While that meant disappointment for all of them in the end, the playoff run by the Indiana Pacers was a thrilling surprise. Since at the time of writing this the Indiana Hoosiers are #1 in the country and have a good shot at winning the college football national championship, I’ll call that my favorite sports “moment” of the year. Here’s to hoping that they don’t become my most disappointing sports memory of 2026! 

Amy’s Favorite Sports Moments of the Year: Over Thanksgiving, we had the joy of hosting my folks from Tennessee and the misery of watching every one of our teams lose. I’m not sure it counts as a sporting event, but cheering Sam and Andrew on during their first marathon this summer was a treat and seemed a rare instance in which the fans really do make a difference. Speaking of fandom, this year has seen a significant development for me as a sports fan. After years of existing in an NFL allegiance limbo, I have decided to become a Lions fan. I abandoned the Colts after a half-hearted effort to transfer my support from Peyton to Andrew Luck, only to be followed by a brief and lackluster commitment to the Carolina Panthers. Mainly, I want to have someone I can cheer on with Jim, and so the Lions it is.

Jim’s Most Disappointing Sports Moments of the Year: Amy’s notion that one can simply “decide” to become a fan of a team is interesting and worthy of analysis. But moving on . . .  My Detroit Lions getting bounced by the Washington Commanders in the first round of the NFL playoffs last January was probably the hardest loss of the year for me. The Indiana Pacers’ loss in game 7 of the NBA finals was disappointing, too, but like most people, I expected they’d lose, since Oklahoma City was so heavily favored and, okay, the better team. Still, it hurts to be that close and fall short.

Amy’s Most Painful Sports Moment of the Year: Hands down, it was my attendance of Andrew’s track meets this year. Who came up with this format?? One is expected to attend the entire 12-million-year-long meet, conveniently located seven hours from your house and bonus points for cold and rain while your child competes for approximately the wink of an eye, and the snacks are terrible. If any of my eventual grandchildren decide to run track, they will find me waiting in the car with an encouraging hug and a cup of hot chocolate.

Good Reads

Jim: Because of my work hosting the Kalos Center Podcast, I read more widely than usual this year. Oh, so many good books. I loved Anne Hendershott’s The Politics of Envy, which discusses the vice of envy as it manifests in many cultural contexts, from the academy to politics to social media. Robert Woodson’s Woodson Principles is an inspiring and practical summary of his proven approach to urban renewal, and Don Eberly and Ryan Streeter’s The Soul of Civil Society is a superb complement to this, providing many wise insights about civic engagement and democratic culture. I was deeply edified by John Perkins’ One Blood, perhaps the most biblically faithful work I’ve read dealing with race relations. And by “race”—following Perkins—I mean the human race). On the theological front, Michael Kruger’s Canon Revisited on the origin of the New Testament canon is the best volume I’ve read on the fascinating and sometimes bewildering topic of biblical canonicity. Dan Doriani’s Work: Its Purpose, Dignity, and Transformation is a superb introduction to a biblical theology of work. And I loved D. A. Carson’s Exegetical Fallacies, a book which I had never read in its entirety. Now I understand why so many scholars call this a “must read” for anyone interested in—and especially anyone who professionally does—biblical exegesis. My only real disappointment of the year was Christopher Watkin’s Biblical Critical Theory. While this book made good fodder for group discussion with the group of Columbus pastors I led as part of the Center for Christian Virtue’s Minnery Fellowship, I found many aspects of Watkin’s methodology to be disappointing.

Amy: Like Jim, I read a wide range of books this year. One of these was Birding to Change the World by Trish O’Kane. I couldn’t agree with this woman’s politics less, but I couldn’t stop reading the book and pondered it for weeks afterwards. My family is likely to write her hate mail for my new obsession with a bird-watching app I can’t get enough of. I loved The Hallmarked Man by Robert Galbraith, aka J.K. Rowling. She’s a literary genius who creates characters I can’t get enough of. What else can I say? Erik Larson’s The Splendid and the Vile is a very interesting look at Churchill leading up to and during the Battle of Britain. Allie Beth Stuckey’s Toxic Empathy is a succinct but powerful examination of virtue gone wrong. Lee Strobel’s Seeing the Supernatural is sobering and encouraging. And Harriet Beecher Stowe’s classic Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Garrett M. Graff’s The Only Plane in the Sky are my current reads in progress. Both of these are gripping portrayals of some of our country’s darkest days and the courageous efforts of many who lived through them.

Best 2025 Family Memories

Jim: Our annual Bell (Amy’s side of the family) summer reunion was a lot of fun again, this time spent at Donkey Town, an aptly named rental property in southern Indiana. Having the whole family together for Thanksgiving at our new home in Beaver Falls was a definite highlight, especially given the fact that our latest batch of eight Goldendoodle puppies were at peak cuteness and rambunctiousness at the time. By mid-December we delivered seven of them to their thrilled new owners, and we kept one—Pippet, named for the ill-fated dog in the film Jaws. Hopefully, our pup won’t meet such a gruesome end. We’ll be careful to avoid taking her to Amity Island during the summer months.

Amy: Empty-nesting with Jim as we settle into our new home in Pennsylvania has been a blast. While I was very sad to say good-bye to Michigan and a bit daunted by the prospect of starting over again, being reunited after a year of Jim splitting each week between his job in Ohio and our house in Michigan has been nothing but wonderful. Adjusting to the kids being gone has been hard, but I love seeing each of them forging their own paths in new settings and supporting them as adults rather than shepherding them as children. I also had the terrifyingly profound experience of delivering eight puppies by myself when our beloved Goldendoodle decided to give birth while Jim was out of town. And yes, Donkey Town was everything the name says and more.

New Year’s Resolutions

Amy: The upheaval of the last five years has served as an excuse for making less than stellar choices in the area of nutrition and exercise for me. Hoping to turn that around this year along with reading more and scrolling less.

Jim: I have committed to fasting (as a spiritual discipline) more consistently in 2026. It is amazing how much moral-spiritual power there is in this practice—sharpening the mind and improving self-control, which of course is a key fruit of the Spirit.

Happy 2026 everyone!

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On Villains, Vengeance, and the Christian Hero

By Jim Spiegel

The Christmas story is about a certain Hero. But like all hero tales, the story also has its villains. When King Herod learned that the “king of the Jews” was to be born in Bethlehem, he set about apprehending the baby. This prompted an angel of the Lord to appear to Joseph in a dream, telling him “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him” (Mt. 2:13). Joseph and Mary obeyed this instruction, which served to fulfill the Old Testament prophecy, “out of Egypt I have called my son” (Hos. 11:1). When he realized he had been outsmarted, Herod was furious and ordered the slaughter of all baby boys in Bethlehem.

There are also villains who opposed Jesus during his three-year ministry. Twice during conversations with the Pharisees, they attempted to kill him. During the Feast of Tabernacles, Jesus proclaimed his equality with God, saying, “before Abraham was, I am.” We are told that his opponents “picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple” (Jn. 8:59). Later, during the Feast of Dedication, Jesus again enraged the Pharisees by asserting his divine identity when he said, “I and the Father are one” (Jn. 10:30). In response,  “the Jews picked up stones again to stone him.” But rather than smiting them, Jesus simply replied, “I have shown you many good works from the Father; for which of them are you going to stone me?” (Jn. 10:32).

At the end of his earthly ministry, there were many more villains who, together, succeeded in killing the Lord. Judas Iscariot betrayed him, the Jewish high priest Caiaphas, along with the Sanhedrin, sought to have Jesus executed for blasphemy, Pontius Pilate ordered the execution—despite his claiming innocence in the process—and Herod Antipas, the crowd, and the Roman soldiers who carried out the execution, all played their villainous roles.

Even after Jesus publicly rose from the dead, there was more villainy from the chief priests, Jewish elders, and Roman soldiers who attempted a cover-up of the resurrection (Mt. 28:11-15).

So many villains, and one Hero. It is easy to overlook the significance of the fact that, despite all of the treachery, lies, and murderous injustice, Jesus never sought revenge. On the contrary, he consistently reasoned with his opponents or else remained silent. He perfectly fulfilled his own radical counsel: “Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Mt. 5:39).

The Apostle Paul would later reiterate Jesus’ teaching, saying, “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’” (Rom. 12:17-19). Paul, too, would abide by this counsel, even unto a martyr’s death. He too was a hero.

We all have villains in our lives, and accordingly we all face temptations to take revenge, whether in big or small ways. Even if we succeed in resisting the temptation of vengeance, we will deal with the temptation to resentment and holding grudges. This is essentially mental vengeance and can be just as psychologically and morally self-destructive as vengeful action.

But practicing forgiveness is often extremely difficult. When we struggle in this area, we should keep in mind not only how Jesus modeled forgiveness but also how God used the villains in his life to advance his cause. God parleyed their wickedness into the ultimate triumphant tale. And so it goes for those who obey Jesus—in heart and mind, as well as action—despite wicked opposition. The villains end up unwittingly serving the hero’s greater good.

This is one of the profound lessons of the story of Jesus, from Christmas through Easter. And it can be the story of our lives as well, as we deliver our own villains into the hands of God by loving and forgiving them. This is the way to triumph. It is the way of the Christian hero.

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Weezer’s Albums Ranked Worst to Best

By Jim Spiegel

The first time I heard a Weezer song was in the Fall of 1994 at the university where I taught at the time. The song was “Undone” and while it was playing I asked a student, “Who is that band?” He sneered and said “Weezer” dismissively. The next day I went out and bought the album and was immediately amazed by what I heard. Over 30 years and hundreds of songs later, the band is still going strong and I love them more than ever. But many people still sneer at Weezer or at least don’t take them seriously. Why is this?

Several reasons, I believe. For starters, there is the band name, which is goofy. It originated with Rivers Cuomo’s father who would call his son “weezer” when Rivers was a little kid. Rivers liked the sound of it, so the rest is history. Another likely reason is that Weezer’s music is fun. Many of their songs are witty, satirical, or silly, and even on many serious songs there are funny turns of phrases that make us smile, all of which adds up to a band that has a generally campy aesthetic. This has been consistently reinforced by many of Weezer’s album covers, album titles, and their practice of repeatedly releasing self-titled albums, leaving it to journalists and fans to nickname them by their predominant colors. But perhaps the biggest reason why Weezer isn’t taken seriously is their unlikely front man. Shy, reclusive, self-deprecating, and well-educated, Rivers Cuomo is the archetypal anti-rockstar. Or, at least, his persona directly contradicts what we have learned to expect from a rock band’s central figure.

In light of all of this, those who are bound by rock culture categories will naturally be inclined to dismiss Weezer, perhaps seeing them as something of a jester in the court of modern rock. Add to this the fact that Rivers Cuomo doesn’t look cool. He looks more like an accountant or IT guy than anything we usually associate with rock stardom. Which is why it is so easy to miss the fact that he is a bona fide triple threat: A strong vocalist, a superb songwriter, and an excellent guitarist. Sadly, he is underrated in all three of those categories. But so it goes. Such must be the fate of anyone who so readily embraces the image of a dork.

Be all of that as it may, Weezer is a band to be taken seriously. Serious enough to be regarded as one of the great bands of all-time. This is despite the fact that their discography is wildly uneven in terms of quality, including several gems and some absolute stinkers. But, alas, every band whose career spans 30+ years has some bad albums to their discredit. What is fascinating about Weezer, however, is that, unlike most (all other?) bands, they have made their best music in their later years. Yet another way in which these guys don’t fit the mold.

Well, enough of this preamble. Let’s get down to business with my ranking of Weezer albums from “worst to first.” Unlike others who have done such rankings, I will lay out my assessment criteria so you’ll know the basis of my evaluations. I am using these four criteria: 1) musical quality, 2) lyrical quality (an often overlooked but critical aspect of song quality), 3) production quality, and 4) overall originality or innovation.

Weezer [The Teal Album] (2019) – Not rated due to incommensurability. In other words, as an album of covers it requires assessment by a somewhat different set of criteria than albums of original compositions. Among cover albums, I suppose I would arrive at a middling score of a C+ or B- (using a letter grade to help me resist any temptation to place it somewhere in the following ranking).

Now for the rest of the albums, I start from the worst and work upward. Brace yourself, Weezer fans; the first few may hurt. But hang in there. It gets better as you go!

Hurley (2010) – 1.6

In 2010 Weezer hit bottom with this misbegotten amalgam of bland melodies and trite lyrics. An album with literally no bright spots, it is as if they randomly selected a 10th grade kid from Podunk, USA and said “Here, write lyrics for 14 songs; you have one hour,” and this was the result. I can only think the band was somehow in need of money, or perhaps they did it on a dare and intentionally made a bad album. Whatever the explanation, Hurley goes down about as well as a diarrhea smoothie.

Death to False Metal (2010) – 2.7

To round out a year best forgotten in the history of Weezer, the band released this collection of re-recordings of leftover tracks from throughout their career. Biggest stinkers: “Everyone,” “Unbreak My Heart,” and the torturously wretched “Losing My Mind”—an excellent candidate not only for Weezer’s worst song but for the worst song of the decade by any artist. Even thinking about it puts me in a bad mood.

Make Believe (2005) – 3.5

Another poor effort overall, but with a few bright spots, including the opening track, “Beverly Hills,” which is Weezer’s satirical homage to Hollywood subculture. The next song, “Perfect Situation,” also works—a decent singalong. But from here it’s all downhill with non-stop lyrical drivel—clusters of cliches and lazy rhymes set forth in mostly somniferous packages with occasionally serviceable guitar lines. Make Believe is an album that makes you feel bad for the band—an aimless and uninspired recycling of mediocre ideas. The guys sound bored, though pretending otherwise. Make believe, indeed.

Weezer [The Red Album] (2008) – 5.5

A brief semi-recovery from the dreary aesthetic lowlands of Make Believe, the “Red album” has no cohesive identity but should be commended for its bold experimentation. It is Scott Shriner’s breakout album as a bassist and has some truly great moments. The album is replete with power chords, which is fine, but low on Rivers’ melodic lead work. The high points are clever power pop tunes like “Troublemaker” and “The Greatest Man that Ever Lived” (an epic tune, despite the talk-over, which is usually poison to a pop song but here adds to the comic effect). “Pork and Beans” is inane but it works somehow. The corny tribute “Heart Songs” kills the mood, and the three non-Cuomo songs in the middle of the album, though all earnest efforts, feel more like novelties and don’t strengthen the record.

Raditude (2009) – 6.1

Perhaps Weezer’s most critically panned album, I believe Ratitude is usually unfairly assessed. For all its quirks and strange turns, the album knows what it is: a party album. And an almost decent one at that. Weezer is goofing off here, and we love it. The production team, led by Jacknife Lee, temporarily rescues the band from its creative coma with crunchy textures, strong dynamics, and varied arrangements. Probably Weezer’s most danceable album. Definitely their best workout album. (Try it. I burn calories just listening while sitting still.) Most importantly, on this record Cuomo rediscovers some of his lyrical wit. The songwriting is generally helped by contributions from folks outside the band.

Weezer [The Green Album] (2001) – 6.4

Complicated by psychological wounds sustained from confused critical responses to Pinkerton, the “Green Album” was destined to be a safe, catchy retreat that takes no musical chances. It strives to be a high energy college rock album but is unwittingly marked by Cuomo’s melancholic disillusionment from unjust treatment of Pinkerton and, consequently, feels disingenuous. Despite good melodies and sweet harmonies throughout, there are too many vapid rhymes and lyrical cliches (including the most overused chorus lines on pop radio—e.g., “can’t you see,” “I’m lost without your love,” etc.) to be anything more than a mediocre album.

Van Weezer (2021) – 7.0

After a five year (and four album) hiatus from guitar-centric music, Weezer returned to their stylistic home base with this pure rocking collection. Sans the acoustic closer, the songs are uniformly metal-inspired, many of which showcase Cuomo’s superb lead guitar work. If the album title signals the fact that the album is a sort of tribute to the metal genre, the opening track, “Hero,” belies this: “. . . I tried to be a hero, but I was lying to myself. I walk alone.” It’s a powerful, and well-articulated confession in song. Something of which the young Rivers Cuomo seemed incapable. Besides “Hero,” however, there are just a few real highlights, including the Van Halen knock-off “The End of the Game” and the Ozzy-inspired “Blue Dream,” but, thanks to the guitar work and mostly decent lyrics, no real losers.

Pacific Daydream (2017) – 7.8

Though the opening song is named for an electric guitar, this album is decidedly not a guitar album. It’s more about dance grooves and synth pop. But it works. It has a consistent dreamy pop atmosphere. In that sense it is aptly titled. Lots of clever lines: “Everyone wants to be cooler than everyone else. It’s a hip-hop world, and we’re the furniture” (“Beach Boys”), “You’ve gotta choose between the Internet and me” (“QB Blitz”), and “You don’t have to die to go to heaven” (“Weekend Woman”). The album highlights are “Weekend Woman” and the closer, “Any Friend of Diane’s,” a danceable ditty featuring a classical guitar solo that, strangely, fits the song perfectly. An appropriate ending to an album that is surprising at many levels. Many critics complain that it’s a stylistic reach for the band. A reach, perhaps. But not out of their reach.

Pinkerton (1996) – 8.1

As a huge fan of the Blue Album, when Pinkerton was released, I was as surprised as anyone at the lo-fi turn the band took. But I was heartened by the clear indication the band refused to sell out. I also liked the raunchy keyboard sound that pervades the album and, of course, the lyrical vulnerability conveyed with raw vocals and minimal instrumental effects. It all showed these guys were for real and not just a pop rock outfit, daring to seriously address exasperation with the promiscuous rock star lifestyle (“Tired of Sex”) and sexual attraction to a minor (“Across the Sea”), among other difficult topics. So as negative reviews emerged, I was perplexed. But history has been kinder to the album, as its real quality has become evident to most music critics.

Maladroit (2002) – 8.3

Ironically titled given the depth and range of the album, Maladroit was a refreshing sign of musical growth, including the band’s first forays into heavy metal. It is also Pat Wilson’s breakout album on drums. His work on “Dope Nose,” “Keep Fishin’,” and “Burndt Jam” is especially strong. And the rhythmic turnarounds on “Fall Together” are super cool. Add to this some excellent lead guitar work and a lot of fun, nonsensical wordplay, and you have another distinct artistic advance for the band. The only significant low point is “December,” an unfortunately corny, if admittedly catchy, album closer. Cuomo sings, “Only trust can inspire soggy lungs to breathe fire.” Soggy lungs? Ohh-kay. An earnest but failed attempt at an inspiring rock anthem. In time, however, Weezer would succeed at this, and in big ways. Persistence pays!

Weezer [The Black Album] (2019) – 8.7

Horribly underestimated by most critics, in part no doubt due to a lack of interest or appreciation for lyrical quality, the “Black Album” was another step of maturation for Rivers Cuomo as a lyricist and the band as a whole for musical innovation. The album features more imaginative and creative humor, on a level with their “White Album” from three years earlier. Like that one, the “Black Album” is melodically and instrumentally rich and varied. There are lots of strong dance grooves to go with some excellent musical hooks. Also, some great lines, like: “the future’s so bright I gotta poke my eyes out” (“Can’t Knock the Hustle”), “life will make a beggar of rich men, bring the sovereign to his knees; and all the gold and all of the platinum melt like a chocolate sea” (The Prince Who Wanted Everything”), and “I don’t believe in mysticism, only in what science proves—like the sex appeal of your sick dance moves” (“Byzantine”).

Everything Will be Alright in the End (2014) – 9.3

Weezer’s “comeback album” after more than a decade of artistic doldrums. Was it Ocasek’s production? Cuomo’s brush with death? Creativity enhancing meditation? Who knows. Well-crafted songs, creative dynamics and arrangements, smart and sometimes introspective lyrics, inspired guitar solos, and ambitious vocals. The second half of the album might be the band’s strongest 6-song sequence, with two of the songs enhanced by female vocals. “The British are Coming” is one of Weezer’s very best—featuring a gorgeous melody, perfectly sung, and one of Cuomo’s most brilliant guitar solos, finished off with a killer outro. This is immediately followed by “Da Vinci”: Cuomo has written many songs about the unreachable, ineffably sublime girl, but this is his finest, complete with references to Stephen Hawking, the Rosetta Stone, the eponymous painter, and even the Gospel. All wrapped in an addictive cluster of melodies. Following this are the plaintive “Go Away,” featuring guest vocalist Bethany Cosentino, the genre-defying “Cleopatra,” and the touching “Foolish Father.” It all culminates in a soaring three-song suite to close the album. Wow.

Weezer [The Blue Album] (1994) – 9.5

What can be said that hasn’t already been said about this legendary Weezer premier? One of the all-time great album debuts, full of raw, youthful, catch-us-if-you-can energy. Uncommonly clever, if sometimes nonsensical, compositions packaged in walls of fuzzy power chords, pierced with hooky guitar solos, street-level vocals, all sprinkled with occasional dissonant guitar lines. Masterful production by the late, great Ric Ocasek, the ideal musical mentor for these determined grunge and 80s rock-inspired rookies who had no idea what lay ahead of them as a major rock band.

Weezer [The White Album] (2016) – 9.7

The ultimate “beach album” (as inspired by the band’s manager, Jonathan Daniel), complete with fully realized lyrical concepts, fresh melodic innovations, and, yes, some beachy themes.  Modern rock just doesn’t get any better than this. The album completes Cuomo’s decade-long trek from lyrical sloth to a genuinely smart, insightful, and even quotable songsmith. “We’ve  got the wind in our sail like Darwin on the Beagle and Mendel experimenting with the pea” (“Wind in Our Sail”), “We’re as happy as a couple Hare Krishnas” (“Good Thing”), “She swam away and flexed her mermaid tail” (“Summer Elaine and Drunk Dori”), “You’re the sun that I’m orbiting. I burn in your heat. Supernova and cosmic dust, you spawn galaxies” (“Jacked Up”). And then there’s Weezer’s single greatest song: “Thank God for Girls”—a lyrical journey that warrants an essay’s worth of analysis by itself. The White Album is not just a batch of hook-laden, super-singable, beach-inspired tunes. It is, at last, a lyrical effort worthy of the Harvard University English major graduate that is Rivers Cuomo.

OK Human – 9.8

Who would have thought Weezer was capable of something this smart and sophisticated? A baroque-style, fully orchestrated set of strikingly thoughtful compositions. And no electric guitars! The rich musicality throughout creates the ideal pallet for Cuomo’s substantive and moving lyrical ventures that include immersions in literature (“Grapes of Wrath”) and music (“Playing My Piano”) to insightful social commentaries on digital devices (“Screens”) and the psychological effects of statistics (“Numbers”) to a touching personal reflection about feeling past one’s prime (“Bird with a Broken Wing”). All of these songs are sandwiched between the plaintive opener “All My Favorite Songs” and the hopeful roundelay “Here Comes the Rain,” which, like several other tracks on the album, subtly packs a profound lyrical message. The string and horn orchestration and dynamics are exquisite, featuring seemingly endless layers of melodies and instrumental textures that perfectly serve the songs. Producer Jake Sinclair deserves as much credit as anyone here. The very idea of Weezer doing an album like this might have once seemed comical. (Yes, there are plenty of funny moments, but only because of Cuomo’s clever wit.) The truth is it all feels very natural and, well, authentically human.

SZNZ (2022) – 9.9

Technically, the SZNZ EPs are four separate releases. But because of their unifying theme and the fact that all of the songs came out of the same recording sessions, I regard SZNS as a single, albeit time-released, work. Indeed, Weezer’s greatest work. A consistently innovative blend of progressive rock, orchestral rock, baroque, and chamber music, with dashes of heavy metal, all with consistently strong lyrics. This is Rivers Cuomo at his most literate, smart, witty, personal, and compelling. SZNZ is loaded with seemingly endless pockets of melodies. Nearly every song has some interesting dynamic, whether a surprising arrangement, a challenging syncopation, an unexpected modulation, or creative musical sidebar, and usually a unique intro and/or outro. But nothing forced or pretentious. Just persistent, often stunning musical innovation. Lyrically, nearly every song is thought-provoking, many profoundly so, as in the case of “Lawn Chair” (on the origin of human suffering) “What’s the Good of Being Good,” (why be moral?), and “Should She Stay or Should She Go” (on Adam’s dilemma if Eve had succumbed to temptation in the Garden of Eden but Adam did not: “I could kick her ass out, move on with my life. Or I could follow her into the night”). Some more lyrical doozies: “I wish I could say it all to you in iambic pentameter. I’d improvise high notes like Thelonious when he’s jammin’ it” (“Iambic Pentameter”), “Why was I ever born and why did God make me? He must’ve been high when he dropped me down here” (“Dark Enough to See the Stars”), and “Lollygag in the lee of a highland ’til my ghost takes flight. In the sky I’m as high as a titan feeding on the fire, shattering those iron bars through the sky like shooting stars” (“Wild at Heart”). In addition to all of this, Cuomo’s voice is in top form. Underrated as he is as a guitarist, he’s probably just as underrated as a vocalist—like many great rock singers, not because of technical excellence but because of the personal connection he achieves and his ability to consistently match his vocal dynamics and emotion to each song’s meaning and mood. Simply put, SZNZ is an extraordinary achievement. If Weezer never records again, they will have gone out at their artistic peak. Brilliantly done, guys.

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What Might Be or Could Have Been: Thoughts on Anxiety, Faith, and Providence

By Jim Spiegel

Several weeks ago a young friend of our family—I’ll call her Lisa—choked on a grape and required assistance in order to clear her windpipe and regain the ability to breathe. Once the grape was dislodged she was fine, and no medical attention was needed. However, understandably, Lisa was very shaken up by the incident, as were her parents.

In the days that followed, their entire family was prompted to some deep reflection about Lisa’s brush with death and the tragedy that was averted. As good friends of the family, we too reflected on the horrible “would could have been.” Eventually, this thought occurred to me: It was never God’s intention for Lisa to die that day, as is obvious from the fact that she did not die. In fact, from the standpoint of divine providence, it wasn’t even close. From our finite human perspective, yes, it seemed like “a close call.” But with God there are no close calls. There are just two categories: what he ordains and figments of our own imaginations.

A question for us, then, is whether we will let our imaginations cause us anxiety and fear.

Regarding the past, we may experience anxiety as we either regret or cringe over “close calls.” “If only I had done X, then situation Y would not have occurred.” Here we let our failure or oversight haunt us indefinitely. Or we may think, “if I had not done X, then this horrible thing would have happened. Oh no—I might not be so lucky next time!” In that case, we displace a positive turn of events with anxiety over a bad thing that nearly happened but didn’t.

And regarding the future, we worry over what might happen. “What if X happens, then Y or Z follows, which would be terrible!” Here we are allowing another kind of figment of our imagination to torment us. If it never happens, then we burden ourselves with something completely fictional. We are victims of our own psychological self-torture.

But, we may rationalize, doesn’t worry at least serve the positive function of preparing us for circumstances that will eventually come to pass? Well, not usually. This recent study showed that over 91% of the things we worry about never come true. And in the cases of many people, 100% of the things they dreaded never came to pass. This seems to suggest that worrying really is a waste of time and mental energy.

In all such cases, we choose to live in the subjunctive mood rather than reality. And we pay a costly price: peace of mind.

Of course, worry is a universal human experience. We all struggle with anxiety about the past and the future. The only differences among us is how much we do this.

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus addressed the problem, saying, “Do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Mt. 6:25). And his disciple Peter would later say, “cast all your anxiety on the Lord, because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7).

These and other biblical admonitions seem to suggest that worry is under our control. As Kant’s dictum goes, “ought implies can.” That is, if there is a duty to do X, then we must be capable of doing X. If Scripture tells us to cast our anxiety on the Lord, then it must be possible to do this. But how?

I wish I had a simple formula, but I don’t. Prayer is an obvious starting point. Perhaps it’s also the ending point. And all the points in between. Also, I believe consciously leaning on the fact of divine providence is critical. If God really is in ultimate control of all that happens and “all the days ordained for me were written in [His] book before one of them came to be” (Ps. 139:16), then there is no reality beyond what he stipulates. I have found that serious meditation on this fact can be a powerful mental salve.

What could be or what would be (logical possibilities and causal counterfactuals) may be worth our attention for the sake of contingency planning. But we are wise to fight against the temptation to obsess over them. And it is the fight of a lifetime, since the temptation to worry is among the most persistent of all temptations in human experience.

So, in the end, like all temptations, worry is a test of faith. How much do we really trust God’s power, love, and faithfulness?

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Death vs. Ascension

By Jim Spiegel

One of the most fascinating scenes in the New Testament—to my mind, at least—is the ascension of Jesus Christ. As Luke records the event in the book of Acts, he notes that after his resurrection, Jesus appeared to his disciples over a period of forty days and on one occasion:

They gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.

They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.” (Acts 1:6-11).

And that was the last they saw of Jesus. It was their final, unceremonious goodbye. And yet, apparently, there was no weeping or wailing. No one cried. No one mourned. In fact, the disciples simply got to work building the church and joyfully proclaiming the Good News.

What a contrast between this and when Jesus died six weeks earlier. And yet, from the standpoint of saying goodbye, at least as far as anyone could tell at the time, the situation was no different. A beloved friend was leaving for good. Why such a different response?

Was it the manner of death? This can’t be the explanation, since it is the loss of our loved ones that we mourn, not their manner of death. This is reflected in the (very reasonable) common expression, “I’m sorry for your loss.” We never say, “I’m sorry your loved one died the way they did.” Yes, an especially painful or violent death may exacerbate the pain of loss. But the essence of sorrow regards the loss of the person, not how they died. And yet, when Jesus ascended, the disciples lost their friend. So why no mourning?

Was it the presence of Jesus’ dead body that made his death so much more painful than his ascension? No, this can’t be it. If your loved one were to die in such a way that their body is out of sight or irretrievable (e.g., sunken in the ocean depths, lost in space, etc.) you would mourn every bit as much as if their lifeless body was present. The presence of a corpse may make some psychological difference (for better or worse), but that’s not the source of our sorrow. Again, it is the loss of the person we mourn.

Or maybe the difference lies in the fact that by the time Jesus ascended, he had proven he was the Messiah, that the disciples’ personal investment in him was not in vain, and that their trust in him was vindicated. Perhaps this is why
the disciples didn’t mourn his ascension. Again, this doesn’t account for the fact that, just as in the case of a physical death, by ascending Jesus was leaving them for good.

Or was he? It seems to me that the key to understanding the different responses is that Jesus’ ascension proved his departure was only temporary. That by his resurrection he proved that he had conquered death and that he could be trusted in his promise that he was going to return and bring about his everlasting kingdom. This meant, again, that the goodbye was not permanent but only temporary.

So the difference has to do with Gospel hope, something that the disciples definitely did not have immediately after Jesus was crucified and buried. In fact, they had lost all hope. But with the fact that the ascension occurred after his resurrection made all the difference. Moreover, his resurrection proved that all death is conquered and that, as Christians, all of our goodbyes are only temporary. And this is why the Apostle Paul would later dare to mock death, saying, “Where, O death, where is your victory? Where, O death, where is your sting?” (1 Cor. 15:55).

Of course, I am not saying that our mourning the death of friends and loved ones is not rational or that we lack faith in doing so. Rather, we mourn with hope. And, as Christians, we understand that our goodbyes really are temporary—that we, too, ascend after death and, like our Lord, we go to await our final reunion with the people of God. That is Gospel hope, and it makes all the difference in the world.

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Staying on the Cross

By Jim Spiegel

In Martin Scorsese’s film The Last Temptation of Christ, Jesus’s last temptation is represented as the domestic life—to come down from the cross, take a wife, have kids, and live a normal family life. The film is a bit of fanciful celluloid imagination, but it gets this much right: Christ’s final temptation on earth was created by the mockers who challenged him to take himself down from the cross:

“It was nine in the morning when they crucified him. The written notice of the charge against him read: ‘The King of the Jews.’ They crucified two rebels with him, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, ‘So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself!’ In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! Let this Messiah, this king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.'” (Mark 15:25-32)

Jesus resisted this temptation—something he could very easily have done, to relieve himself of such extreme torment and humiliation. But doing so would have undermined God’s perfect plan for the salvation of humanity. Jesus had to suffer in full in order to provide complete atonement for the human race. So Jesus had to submit completely, and, thankfully, he did.

Sometime before his crucifixion, Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Mt. 16:24-26). This remark—like so many cryptic statements by Jesus—must have utterly confused them, not the least because they had no idea what fate shortly awaited Jesus. As we now know, it is not just a quaint, poetic expression but a metaphor we should seriously ponder for how it applies to us as Christ followers.

One application context is personal offense, specifically when a person refuses to apologize for a serious wrong committed against you, especially when this leads to public humiliation. If ever there was a time to urge someone to apologize, the sin of slander would probably be as compelling a reason as any. If you have already taken the steps of personal rebuke prescribed in Matthew 18 but to no avail, it can be tempting to “take matters into your own hands,” such as through spiteful treatment, public shaming, or worse. In the days of social media when discretion is an increasingly rare virtue, this can be especially tempting.

However, if their wronging you put you on this cross, so to speak, then any such responses may essentially be efforts to take yourself down from the cross rather than to “carry” it to the full extent God has ordained for you. When the Matthew 18 steps have been exhausted, I’ve resolved to eschew additional efforts and submit to whatever remaining suffering and slander may be meant for me. If Jesus tells me to deny myself, take up my cross, and follow him, then presumably this means I should be willing to remain on that cross as long as he stipulates.

Of course, there is a time and place to “escape” the torment of others, whatever form that might take, whether physical or psychological abuse, etc. And there is a time to confront people who owe you an apology for injustices and other wrongs that have caused you to suffer (as, again, we know from Matthew 18). But there is also a time to recognize when, humanly speaking, none of this is possible and only God can redeem the situation. Such is the time to remain on the cross and trust God for a moral resurrection within a human heart that only he can effect. That is my resolution, anyway, and it has been a blessed approach.