Hodgepodge

1. An Atheist Goes to Church

Since the passing of Christopher Hitchens, my favorite living atheist is probably Michael Ruse, philosopher of biology at Florida State University.  For a taste of Ruse’s interesting perspective, check out his recent Chronicle of Higher Education piece on attending church this past Christmas.

2. Lawsuit Abuse Website

Ridiculously frivolous lawsuits have now become so commonplace that there is a website devoted to them.  Its called Faces of Lawsuit Abuse.  Here you can learn about various bizarre cases (including a confessed killer suing his victim and a 400 lb. prison inmate suing because his clothes don’t fit) as well as the devastating effects of our society’s hyper-litigiousness.

3. Jonathan Cahn on 9/11

Jonathan Cahn is a messianic rabbi at the Beth Israel Worship Center in Wayne, New Jersey and president of Hope of the World ministries.  His teachings are broadcast daily around the world, but until recently I had never heard this remarkable sermon on 9/11.  Judge for yourself whether the connections he traces between Isaiah 9 and the events on that day and its aftermath are mere coincidence or fulfillment of prophecy.

Greater Expectations

If you have ever spent more than five minutes with me, you probably know that I think my parents are awesome. Even if they weren’t my parents, I am sure I would hold them in great esteem for the wise and godly lives they lead as individuals and as a couple. Despite having done the whole leave and cleave thing, my parents’ opinions are still extremely important to me, which is okay with Jim because he and my dad are basically twins, separated by twenty odd years and a hairline.

So whenever my parents watch our kids, I like to debrief afterwards to get their insights and advice. (Don’t tell the kids their grandparents are spying on them for us, okay? They just think Gram and Gramps are playing Monopoly with them when in reality they are gathering intel.) My mom usually has something profound to offer on the relational front, a way for us to better connect with one of the kids while my dad, being the ex-farm boy/soldier usually has something to say about structure and discipline. Upon returning from a recent trip, there was my dad, ready to offer a gem regarding expectations. “Before we went anywhere, I would just tell them what my expectations were and they would fulfill them.”

Duh, Dad. Me too. Like before we go into the grocery store I say, “Okay, we are going into the grocery store. I expect you will all behave really badly, except for Bailey who will just wander off, acting as if he doesn’t know who these crazy people are. I expect you to beg for myriad things that aren’t on the list and I am expecting to give in on more than one occasion just to get you to be quiet.” See, Dad. I already knew that one.

Okay, so maybe those weren’t exactly the expectations he was talking about. But it got me to thinking about expectations in general. While all this was swirling around in my head like mashed potatoes in a KitchenAid, I read an article about Paula Deen and the recent announcement that she has Type II Diabetes. People seem to have quickly formed two camps regarding the news. One side seems busy chowing down Twinkies and celebrating her unapologetic enjoyment of life and food while the other side hurls metaphoric multi-grain bagels and denounces her promotion of irresponsible eating habits. I confess to feeling torn between the Twinkies and the Multi-Grains.

Part of me wants to release Miss Paula from the chains of responsibility and ask Common Sense to intervene on her behalf. Are there really individuals out there who are ignorant to the consequences of all the butter and sugarcoated “goodness” she dishes out? Another part of me, however, is frustrated by the hypocrisy that benefits from the popularity of Deen’s unhealthy cooking style and then pleads for sympathy for her condition. Maybe if I really want to wiggle my finger in someone’s face, I would do well to look in the mirror first. After all, we don’t live under a monarchy of celebrity. We “elect” our idols, which means we have the power to dethrone them as well. If we don’t like what they are selling, then all we have to do is stop buying it. While this idea can be as comforting as a Twinkie, it can be a bit unsettling as well when I come to realize that this means it doesn’t just apply to the tight-fitting nature of my favorite blue jeans. If I don’t like the directions public figures are steering things, whose fault is it really? If I, the citizen, continue to buy what they are “selling,” then who is ultimately responsible for the state of things?

Maybe my dad is right, and it’s is all about expectations. Perhaps in instead of pointing my finger in someone else’s face, I should look in the mirror if I want someone to blame.

Peeved Driving

Here’s a question I’ve pondered for a long time:  Why is it so much easier to get angry at other people while driving than when doing just about anything else?  Perhaps that’s not true for you.  But it is for me and, I’ve discovered, a lot of other folks as well.  So lately I’ve been thinking hard about this psycho-sociological phenomenon to see if I could get to the bottom of it.  And I’ve arrived at what I think are some plausible partial explanations:

  1. Driving is stressful.  Because of the inherent danger of driving, particularly in heavy traffic, we are naturally more anxious when behind the wheel than in other circumstances.  Also, when driving we are often in a hurry to get to our destination.  Such stress naturally makes it more difficult to control one’s temper when another motorist tailgates, drives too slowly or darts in front of us.
  2. Driving is a form of waiting, which by itself tests our patience.  Yes, while driving one is involved in an activity, but it is a mundane and sedentary one, and often quite boring, especially when on a long commute or trip.  This in itself demands patience.  So when other drivers are inconsiderate or obnoxious, we find it especially difficult to cut them slack.
  3. Other drivers are (usually) hidden within their cars.  It’s always easier to lose your temper at an inanimate object than at another person.  And the fact that other drivers can’t be readily seen invites us to respond to what we do see—the vehicle they’re in, an inanimate object.  This even comes out in our speech while driving:  “That car just cut me off!”  The other driver’s humanity is obscured by the machine they’re operating, and this impacts the way we treat them.  If you have any doubts about this, consider how differently we respond to people when we’re in boats, passing others on the lake.  We all wave and smile!  But we almost never wave to other motorists unless we know them.  Try waving to a stranger in another car sometime, and check out the look you get.

These are my best guesses as to why we (or many of us) are more irked by others while driving than while, say, cooking, fishing, painting, gardening, showering, hop-scotching, or working at the computer.  I’d welcome your own theories or analyses, if you have any to share.

See you on the road.  But please don’t wave.

Respecting the Difficulty of Parenting

Lately, Amy and I have been pondering the difficulty of parenting, as well as the way the difficulty is often regarded.  It is interesting to hear some people’s comments about those who express their struggles in raising numerous children.  Often, after hearing a parent lament a stressful period with their kids, we’ve heard someone say, “Well, that’s the result of their choice,” presumably to remind us all that they brought the difficulty upon ourselves by having so many kids.  Well, true, but why point out the obvious?  To diminish their accomplishments and suggest that they really don’t deserve so much credit after all?

People don’t make such remarks in other contexts, even when the struggle is largely self-serving.  When a runner reports how hard it was to run a marathon, does anyone say, “Well, that was their choice”?  Or if a mountain climber says he really struggled to make it to the summit of Mt. Everest, would anyone say, “He brought that difficulty upon himself”?  Of course not.  We recognize that, although such challenges are the consequence of personal choices, those who meet them deserve credit nonetheless.  So why are some people loathe to acknowledge the difficulty of parenting numerous children, especially when this is incomparably more valuable than even the most impressive athletic feat?  Why are some people inclined to diminish the significance of dedicated parenting?  I don’t know.

But one thing I do know is that I’m thankful for the hard work of good parents.  Chosen or not, and regardless of the number, raising children is a profound challenge.  And when parents do it well, their kids aren’t the only ones that benefit.  We all benefit.

If It Hadn’t Been for Cotton-Eyed Joe

While I was enjoying Thanksgiving break at my folks, my dad pointed out an article in the local paper about a Christian country music artist and his idea for making church more accessible to country music fans. Why not have church in a bar? Not just any bar but a country line dancing bar? The musician has convinced his pastor and congregation to support the idea and has begun organizing monthly services. The services take place on Monday nights since those they are trying to reach are sleeping in on Sunday morning.

My first inclination was to dismiss this approach as yet another American, evangelical “innovation.” But I didn’t. Maybe it was the result of the residual warm feelings of Thanksgiving. Maybe my critical thinking skills had been dulled from too much dressing and cranberry salad.

Whatever the cause, I tried to set aside my skepticism and imagine how I might react differently if this Coors Light Church was taking place in a beer garden in Berlin rather than a line dancing bar in my hometown. Would I be so quick to criticize some missionary in a foreign land who was trying to work with the culture instead of against it? Was it a form of my pride which was offended by the idea that my country is a mission field?

Of course, we all should be trying to reach the lost. But somehow when I think of friends off saving the lost in Thailand or Columbia or some other far away and exotic place, the lost of those countries seem different somehow. I imagine them living in a darkness of disbelief based on ignorance while the lost of America seem more willfully disobedient. Surrounded by churches of all sorts and sizes and the freedom to worship as they please, it feels naïve to see them in the same light as those who have never heard the name of Jesus, never read God’s words in the Bible, never heard the Good News. But geography has little influence on the slavery under which so many labor. Surely the human heart is no more or less rebellious in the heart of the heartland as it is the depths of the Amazon jungle. We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, right?

In my imagining, I began to examine what it said about us as a nation that this type of service would appeal to so many. (The article reported that more than 600 people attended the first service.) I conjured up the cultural orientation which might take place in order to ready missionaries for ministry among us. While certainly southern, country line dancers are a distinct subculture. I think a few of the lessons can be learned about the indigenous population as a whole. Perhaps keeping these things in mind can help us as we search for the lost sheep among us and try to keep from becoming lost ourselves.

  • We are a people desperate for relationship. Though the message was not printed in its entirety, it was summed up by the pastor as basically “God loves you and wants to have a relationship with you.” Now I don’t know exactly what type of relationship this pastor is talking about but I am pretty sure that God doesn’t want just to have you “friend” Him on Facebook and move on with your day. And there lies the source of our starvation for relationship. We don’t want to give up anything, of ourselves, of our time, of our resources in order to relate to other human beings or even the Creator of the universe. One of the premises of the service was that people wouldn’t want to give up being out all night long on Saturday in order to attend church on Sunday morning. If we are to reach our culture, we must convince them that in order to fill the great void of loneliness from which they suffer, they must be willing to make great sacrifices.
  • We care a great deal about our own comfort. The article stressed that the people in attendance were those who wouldn’t feel comfortable in a normal church setting. Why is that exactly? Are churches really such scary places? I have been to a lot of churches in my time and while a few have been cold or intimidating, I have often found the problem with churches is that they are too friendly. Jim and I once made the mistake of visiting a small church struggling to attract new blood. I didn’t think we would get out alive, or at least without promising to come again. So what is it about church that scares people? Maybe it isn’t the other people they fear encountering, but rather they fear encountering themselves. There is little time for self-reflection in our media-soaked society and sitting a pew for an hour or two certainly gives one time to take stock.
  • We don’t care too much for the sacredness of place. We are a nation of transitory people, always on the move and so the idea that place has meaning and value is odd to us. Combine our nomadic ways with our utilitarian tendencies and it is little wonder that people have no problem worshipping the Almighty amidst Jeff Gordon signs and mechanical bulls. (I can’t confirm the mechanical bull, but I have my suspicions.) I know God is everywhere but I do think the way and where of worship matter too. It’s why I make my boys wear shirts with collars and jeans without holes on Sunday morning. And it’s why we don’t pile up on the couch to worship but pile into our van and enter a place of worship. But certainly we need to take care to make all feel welcome in that place, sacred though it may be.

The name of the establishment in which this service took place is “Cotton-Eyed Joes” and since I read the story I haven’t been able to stop mumbling a portion of the song by the same name. I thought to cure myself but actually looked up the lyrics and stumbled across this verse “He brought disaster wherever he went; The hearts of the girls was to Hell, broken, sent; They all ran away so nobody would know; And left only men ’cause of Cotton-Eye Joe.” Rather ominous words for a fluffy country song but perhaps there is a warning there for us all. For just as we should be seeking the lost, wherever they may be found, there is another who is seeking them as well. He brings only disaster and brokenness. And if we don’t find the lost, he certainly will.

Hodgepodge

1. Steve Jobs’ Last Words

Apparently, Steve Jobs’ final utterance before his death last month was “Oh wow.”  How ironic (or appropriate?) that these were the last words of a man whose innovations in computer technology prompted millions of people to utter those same words.  Here are some interesting reflections on Jobs, last words, and life after death by Brad Hirschfield and Christopher John Farley.

2. The Occupy Wall Street Movement Turning (More) Violent

Many people have expressed concern about the fact that the OWS protestors have not exactly modeled civility.  We’ve all seen the images and reports of pollution, destruction of property, sexual assualt, verbal abuse, public defecation, and public sex.  Now there are reports of shooting deaths in Oakland and Burlington.  This is not going to end well.

3. The Penn State Atrocity

This story is an outrage at many levels.  And it is a sad illustration of some critical moral truths.  For one thing, it is an example of how one man’s indiscretion can devastate an entire community.  It also shows how a sin of omission (here, the failure to properly hold another person accountable) can be as devastating as a sin of commission.  As Edmund Burke famously declared, “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”  Or, in this case, not quite enough.

Where Muslims are Getting it Right

The conspicuous appearance of red and yellow amongst the green leaves along the highway has forced me to admit that summer is no more. I can deny it all I like but the months of late night movie watching, sleeveless dresses and ceiling fans are behind us. Early bedtimes, leggings and cardigans and my down comforter stand ready to take their place.

A sigh of remembrance escapes like the birds flying south as I fondly remember this summer’s highlights. Despite the scorching temps, one of those highlights for the kids and I was our visit to the Indiana Dunes. I marveled at their seemingly endless energy while I kicked back and indulged in one of my favorite activities—people watching. There are plenty of people to watch on the shores of Lake Michigan. Since we spend most of the summer on the shores of Taylor Lake, the quantity of people is a bit of shock, not to mention the amount of flesh most of those people reveal. Just as I was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious in my tankini, however, there arrived on the scene a notable exception—a large Muslim family. The women were clothed from head to toe, but this didn’t stop them from racing into the water and having a blast. Having watched young (and old) women pull and tug at their suits all day, it was refreshing to see women enjoying the water without the awkwardness that generally accompanies going out in what is essentially underwear.

This got me to thinking about our fellow monotheists and what we, as evangelical Christians might learn from their example. Here are a few areas where, it seems to me, many Muslims are getting it right, perhaps more right than we are, in fact:

  • Modesty:  I’m not as familiar with what is going on in the Abercrombie and Fitch of mainstream culture and dress as I once was, but as a frequent visitor to a conservative evangelical school I can tell you that we are losing the battle for the modesty among our young women. They might not be going as far as their secular sisters, but they are going far enough. The funny, or sad, thing about it is that while they might argue that it is their right to enjoy the bodies they have been given, if they are enjoying themselves, they look very uncomfortable doing so. They are constantly adjusting bra straps and tugging at hemlines. Unlike the young Muslim women I saw on the beach, they seem consumed with self-consciousness about their bodies. I am not suggesting that Christian women adopt the tradition of the hijab, but surely there is reasonable compromise between concealing one’s body completely and going around with your butt cheeks hanging out. The irony is that so often people criticize the extreme modesty of the Muslim faith for taking away the individuality of women. Ladies, I assure you, it isn’t your individuality men are valuing when your bodies are on display for all to see. While there is certainly a case to be made against the culture of Islam for its mistreatment of women, I am not sure we are treating our sisters and daughters much better when we surrender them to the vice of immodesty.
  • Family Size:  It is strange that with a tag like “evangelical” we don’t seem to emphasize the most natural, and statistically most effective, method of evangelism—making disciples through procreation. The average Muslim family has three children and, while I couldn’t find a statistic specific to evangelicals, if our church is any indication, the American church falls much closer to the average of less than one per household. I know there are myriad factors that play into the extremely personal and individual decision of family size but it should be something that is wrestled over and treated with all seriousness. And it isn’t just the number of children we have, but the value placed on home life in general. For thousands of years, Christians have deeply valued home as a place of instruction, nurturing and refuge. Now our external focus challenges these basic values.
  • Devotion to Spiritual Disciplines:  The greatest distinction between Christianity and other religions is the idea of grace. This counterintuitive concept that the price for our salvation has been paid not by the sweat of our own brow, but by the blood of God Himself seems too good to be true. And yet is it true and it is good. So why does this good news not drive us to our knees each day in sheer wonder and gratitude? Why does it not see us forsaking the pleasures of food and material possession in order to see this gracious God more clearly? Why do many folks who reject the notion of grace set a better example of religious devotion? Why are they, who have no assurance of pardon or forgiveness, the ones praying five times a day? We are often labeled “fundamentalists” when we seem to have forgotten the fundamentals of our faith. Certainly, I mourn for those who devote themselves to empty rituals that get them no closer to heaven, but I mourn for myself and others when we forsake spiritual discipline altogether and get no closer to Christ.

Oxford Study on Religious Belief

A three-year long Oxford University research project has recently concluded that religious belief “comes naturally, even instinctively.”  The study, led by Oxford University Professor Roger Trigg, was a transcultural mega-project that actually incorporated data from forty different studies around the world.  Trigg notes that the findings reveal that children and adults alike naturally think in religious terms, demonstrating a readiness to believe in an afterlife and divine purpose in life and the cosmos.

This study appears to confirm John Calvin’s notion of the sensus divinitatis—the idea that there is an innate awareness of God hard-wired into human beings.  As Calvin puts it, “to prevent anyone from taking refuge in the pretense of ignorance, God himself has implanted in all men a certain understanding of his divine majesty” (Institutes, I.III.1).  If Calvin is correct, and I think he is, then atheistic dreams of eliminating religious belief in society could never be realized.  In Roger Trigg’s words, the “secularization thesis…[is] hopeless.”

Observations on the Casey Anthony Case—Part 2

Here are my responses to Jim’s three points in the previous post:

1. A Point About Logic — While I’m not sure I understand Jim’s first point, here’s my point of logic: Though I am willing to concede that it is unclear what the exact circumstances of Caylee Anthony’s death were, she is still dead and her mom still played some role in either her death or the coverup that followed. She was not the one to report it to the police and was out partying just days after the supposed accident. That amounts at minimum to child neglect. I can understand jurors who say the state didn’t prove her guilt beyond a reasonable doubt but can’t get how some of them seem to be saying they think she is completely innocent.

2. Racism and Classism — I don’t know why some abduction stories grab the national attention and others do not, but I am not as convinced of it being based on racism. This is one of those stories where all the factors come together like a perfect storm to create the “perfect,” however tragic, story. Yes, the little girl being super cute and the mom being young and pretty play into that but there are other factors that build on one another. First, the child went missing, then there was the crazy story about a runaway nanny, the grandfather attempted suicide, the mother was suspected and then charged, etc. I don’t understand all the people driving from across the country to witness the trial or all of the picketing. Maybe I am just being naive but I do think to say it is racism that increases our interest amounts to some kind of reverse racism.  Somehow it demeans the sorrow we should feel that a little girl is dead, as if we shouldn’t feel as sorry for her because she is white.

3. Erosion of Trust in the Legal System — As to consequences, I have thought about them in reverse, as in how do we get to this point where mothers (and there are plenty of proven cases of infanticide out there) kill their own children. I think that instead of worrying about the consequences of this case, we should consider that this is the legal system which gave permission for women to kill their unborn children. Why should we be surprised when it allows them to walk free when the children are outside of the womb? And what are we doing to stop it? Maybe instead of spending so much time thinking about Casey Anthony and her little girl, we should concentrate on putting an end to the countless murders which go on everyday with the consent our legal system. Then maybe it would be a system worth trusting again.

Augustine, the Roman Empire, and an American Cultural Deity

This summer I have been reading through Augustine’s City of God (unabridged version—nearly 900 pages).  It has been fascinating to see how deftly he moves from history to theology to philosophy to cultural analysis.  And his insights and wisdom in each of these topical spheres is impressive (though, of course, he shows his fallibility on many issues along the way as well).

In the first few hundred pages of the book Augustine discusses various aspects of the collapse of the Roman Empire.  And several times he mentions how Christians were blamed for this, specifically because of their critique and rejection of making sacrifices to the gods.  Many people thought this failure to appease the gods angered them and that the problems throughout the empire were a consequence of the gods’ vengeance or spiteful refusal to provide assistance.  So now the Roman Empire was crumbling, and it was all the Christians’ fault.  We are tempted to smile at such a silly and misguided accusation, but of course it was no laughing matter, as many Christians were seriously persecuted as a result of this accusation.

The situation in 21st century American culture bears some similarities to that in Augustine’s time.  All around us we see signs of cultural decay and social breakdown.  And our political system, too, is vulnerable to eventual collapse.  It is also interesting to note that Christians today, as in Augustine’s day, are often blamed for our social troubles, such as because of our pro-life advocacy and promotion of monogamy and traditional marriage (of course, not all Christians take these views, but most do).  It is also interesting to note how our stance on these issues constitutes a certain refusal to sacrifice to one of the most prominent deities of American culture, namely the god of sexual autonomy.  Americans make daily sacrifices to this deity in the form of promiscuity and the termination of unborn lives.  And Christians who oppose these sacrifices are often vilified and blamed for opposing social goods, even undermining the American way of life.

This is just one of the ways in which Augustine’s 1500-year-old analysis of ancient Rome is still relevant today.  While I hope our country doesn’t go the way of Rome any time soon (though, like all nations, it will eventually), the lessons we can glean from their history may be a source of cultural insight and practical wisdom.