Nothing to Explain

I've been reading Bram Stoker's Dracula and happened upon a couple great quotes.

Dr. Abraham Van Helsing is about to explain about the supernatural. He says:

Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain.

And, immediately following:

But yet we see around us every day the growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new; and which are yet but the old, which pretend to be young - like the fine ladies at the opera.

Oh, so true. So true.

Martin Luther on Serving God

I've been reading some sermons by Martin Luther (The House Postils, Volume 3, Klug), and was struck by his commentary on Matthew 22:34-36 (love the Lord first, then love your neighbor as yourself).

Luther says that in his day, people who wanted to serve God would attempt it by methods of their own devising: pilgimages, entering monestaries, by fasting and by vigils and singing. No! He says, that's not it.

He writes:

"Serving is doing what God commands.... How could God make serving Him any plainer and explain it any more simply? In other words, if you want so serve Me, pay attention to me and I'll tell you all you need to know; just listen to what I said and do it; love me and your neighbor."

And later...

"Is it serving God when you crawl into a corner [as a monk] where you help and bring solace to no one? What need does our Lord God have of the service you perform in a corner? The one who wants to serve God should not crawl into an isolated cell but remain among people and serve them, where he can rest assured that thereby he is serving God."

"If, when we serve our neighbor, each one would consider it as being done to God, the whole world would be filled with God-pleasing service."

I'm not quite this down on taking a break from the company of others (after all, Jesus did it for forty days, and Paul spent three years in the desert), but in neither case was that break permanent (and I think this was Luther's point); Jesus and Paul ended their isolation and went out to bless other people.

Also, this commentary makes me wonder if there are ways that we, today, have unconsiously come up with for "serving God" that God never commanded or intended.

Scraps - A Few Random Thoughts

Prophecy ~ There's a prophesy in 2 Sam. 7:12-16 that David's son would build a temple for God. In a sense it sounds as if it is describing Solomon and in a sense it sounds as if it is describing Jesus, and sometimes it sounds as if it is talking about both. Did Solomon build a temple for God? Yup. But then it promises the throne of his kingdom will be forever. Last time I checked there is no earthly king descended from Solomon on the throne of Israel, but Christ is king and he is of the line of Solomon, and his rule is eternal. Then it says , "When he does wrong." Did Christ do wrong? Nope. Did Solomon? Yup. And the punishment is "floggings inflicted by men." Did Solomon endure floggings? Not to my knowledge. Did Christ? Yup. Like so many prophesies, the immediate and the distant mingle. In the midst of the here-and-now is a glimpse of eternity.

Litigious ~ If you've ever doubted that the United States is overly litigious, try buying a mountain bike. I bought a nice Cannondale a week ago and found 68 warning messages in a 116-page manual, and virtually every one of them threatens death. The author started off warning of "serious injury or death" and then apparently got into the spirit of the thing, changing the phrase to "serious injury, paralysis, or death." Many of the warnings were blazingly obvious (For instance I was told that I'm not surrounded by a metal shell, as in a car. Duh.) It went from that through dozens of others to a warning against painting your bike, with the standard threat of injury and death. I don't blame Cannondale for this. I'm sure it's just covering its butt from people who want transfer the monetary conequences of random events or their own stupidity onto someone else. Do accidents always have to be somebody's fault? Also, it seems that by having so many warnings you devalue the warnings about things that are really likely to happen.

Ressurection ~ Amazon.com apparently believes in the resurrection. I recently ordered copies of Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn and Cervantes' Don Quixote from Amazon. I had to laugh when I came to the check-out page. Amazon was pushing it's Amazon Alerts. It said...

"Sign up to be e-mailed when new products from your favorite artists are released.

"Books by Mark Twain
"Books by MIGUEL DE CERVANTES "

Yes indeed. I'm looking forward to Mark Twain's next novel.

Non Words ~ For some reason it occurred to me that a lot of "speech" is wordless and occurs through the nose. Examples:

Yes: Um-hm
No: Uh-uh
I don't know: Mmm-mmm. (High on the first mmm, low on the second mmm)
What? - Hmm?
I'm thinking about it. - Hmmm...
Oh. Uh.
Tasty, sexy: MMMM-mm!
Well, how about that! Hmm!

Shield Laws - Hmmm

I just saw an editorial by Steve Forbes in Forbes magazine about the need for a national shield law to protect reporters from having to reveal their sources.

I generally agree with Forbes, but I'm not at all sure about this.

As I recall from my journalism days, the argument for such laws, which many states have, is that people may decide not to talk to reporters if they think they won't remain anonymous.

To take an extreme example, if a reporter gets an interview with an organized crime boss, who details how his organization works, should the reporter be forced by the courts to reveal his source?

If the reporter is forced to reveal the crime boss's name, then it's reasonable to assume no criminal (except stupid ones) will ever talk to a reporter again. So what? Well, think of the potential value of the information the reporter was allowed to reveal. That in itself could be very valuable to police and governing bodies, and it wouldn't be wise to cut off some information by demanding all information.

And if someone should ask, "Well, who is a reporter? Does the state decide who a reporter is?" The answer would always be: "No! We absolutely don't want the state deciding who a reporter is. Anybody who publishes or broadcasts is a reporter."

Okay, that's the argument, and I always bought it. But that was then and this is now. Then, the very nature of printing and broadcasting limited the number of people to whom the shield laws applied, but now, with blogs, everybody can be a reporter - for free - and this presents difficulties.

Do shield laws now apply to everybody?

If they do, it seems all anyone would have to do to avoid testifying would be to start a blog and reveal some information about a criminal event, and that would immunize him or her from having to give any additional information.

The way to avoid that, of course, would be to have the government decide which people are reporters. Ouch! I'd rather have the first problem. Giving the government the right to decide who is a reporter gives the government the right throttle free speech.

So, loophole for criminals or the government's fat foot in the door of regulating the press. I'm not suggesting a solution here, but just pointing out that Congress has a tough problem.

Make: Magazine

Someone at our office who went to the TED conference came back with the premier issue of the new magazine, Make: (yeah, it has a colon at the end). I borrowed it and spent most of last night reading it.

This is going to be hot! Maybe not as hot as Wired, but very toasty.

It is about the size of National Geographic, on good, stiff paper, and is full of great stuff, from a kid-level motor project comprised of a battery, some saftey pins, a battery, and wire, to a computerized light stick that draws patterns in the dark air. The feature article is about building a simple device to take aerial photos from kites.

This has the feeling of what Popular Mechanix had way back in - I dunno - maybe the 40s and 50s. Actual projects for tech-heads. It also feels like Lego instructions. You know; so beautifully illustrated and logical that it is really hard to go wrong. It's one of those magazines you don't throw out but put on a bookshelf when you've read it.

So anyway, I loved it.

This was the premier issue, so I'm sure O'Reilly went all out in producing it, but if it's like this on a regular basis, I'm going to subscribe. Actually, I think I will now.

Christian Revival in France

Well! This is very encouraging. France, which I've always thought of as one of the most secular of European countries, is apparently expriencing something of a revival of interest in Christianity.

First, an excellent article in Christianity Today. It is well worth reading in its entirety. Here's a quote: "An evangelical congregation has been born here every 11 days in the last 35 years."


Then, this general story of spirituality in Europe ABC News Here's a snip: "That [ignoring Catholic teaching] would seem to continue a secularist trend visible in Europe for several decades. That trend is offset, however, by a growing awareness that European secularism is an aberration in a world where religion is largely on the rise."


And finally, an article in Slate. And a couple quotes: "While the flocks drawn to the famous basilica these days are mainly tourists ogling the stained-glass rosettes, this Pentecostal church draws more than 400 worshippers every Sunday to premises that couldn't be more different. Stark white on the inside, the church occupies the ground floor of a plain brick apartment block."

And, "Pentecostalism is growing in France, too, turning Protestantism, historically the embattled religion in a Catholic society, into a burgeoning faith."

Rebuking David

I just finished reading about the life of David in the Bible, and I kind of wondered how David could commit such heinous crimes and get such a mild rebuke from God, but then have God absolutely blast him for something that seems totally innocent.

I will grant that David had a good side, but in a lot of ways David was a wretched man. He killed towns full of men, women and children and betrayed one of his most faithful followers, Uriah, having him murdered after committing adultery with his wife. David was a rotten father. He would have slaughtered a ranch full of people because of a rude reply had not Abigail made amends. And despite God's explicit warnings against idolatry, David let his wife Michal have idols hanging around the house. Even on his deathbed David busies himself telling his son to exact vengeance.

It seems that God would grab David by the throat and yell into his face that he was committing awful sins. While on one occasion (the Bathsheba affair) God did rebuke David, what about all the rest of his bloodshed?

Well, David does get rebuked, but it seems awfully mild and rather distant in time from when David committed his crimes. For instance, when David was running away from his son Absalom, Shimai curses him for shedding the blood of Saul's family, and for a while David thought maybe there was some merit to Shimai's criticism. Then, in 1 Chronicles 22:7-8, David tells his son Solomon that God wouldn't let him to build the temple because of all the blood he'd shed. But overall, I think it is fair to say that if you are looking for an in-your-face smackdown by God for the bloodshed David committed, it isn't there, and I find this odd in light of God's explicit command in the Ten Commandments not to murder.

So, on the one hand I notice the mildness of God's rebuke (if you can call it that) for some really heinous crimes, but on the other hand I see God's fierce anger for something that seems totally innocent - commissioning a census.

For some reason (some have suggested that it showed David wasn't trusting God) God was extremely angry about David taking a census. A census? What's wrong with a census? Jesus' parents took part in a census and there are countings of people all through the Old Testament. I'm not aware of any commands in the Bible against having a census. But for one reason or another, people - even David's ruthlessly practical army commander, Joab - felt David had committed a grievous sin by taking a census. And after he'd committed a census, even David himself felt guilty.

What's going on here?

Well, I think what is going on is actually something quite amazing. I think God was - temporarily - compromising.

Consider Jesus' reply to those who asked why the law of Moses permitted divorce. Jesus said Moses permitted divorce because men's hearts were hard. In other words, God temporarily lowered his standards to match hard human hearts.

I think also of the Apostle Paul's comment that if you believe something is a sin, for you it's a sin. And, presumably, the flip side is true: If you think something is okay, God won't punish you for doing it.

So when people in David's era believed some things were bad and other things were acceptable (regardless of whether they really were), God held them responsible according to their own standards.

Therefore, when David was being murderous but apparently didn't think he was doing anything very wrong, God's rebuke is mild; and when David and his contemporaries thought he was committing a horrible sin by conducting a census, God treats it as a horrible sin.

Anyway, what I'm seeing in all this is two things. First, this shows me how important it is to understand (and communicate to our children) what real right and wrong are. We don't want to wander off into David-like morality through ignorance. Second, I see that God truly does judge the heart. Regardless of how vile our actions, if they are done in ignorance of their true depravity, God does not rebuke us as vehemently as he rebukes actions that may be far less serious but are done in knowing defiance of God.

Hugh Hewitt's Blog Book

I was just reading Hugh Hewitt's complaint about an LA Times review of his new book Blog and thought, "Come on, Hugh, you gotta be able to take a bit of legitimate criticism." So I read the review and, whew! What a stinker. The reviewer's main point seems to be that Hewitt is a conservative. My, my. What will they discover next? Okay, Hugh, if that's the worst they can find to say about your book, I guess I better break down and order a copy.

The Visitor

I am not a fiction writer, but every once in a decade or so I feel compelled to inflict something awful upon innocent civilians. Following is such a case. (Many thanks to Chris, my editor buddy, whose suggestions have hopefully made it tolerable.) Incongruously, I wrote this modern story in what I imagine to be a Victorian style, for no better reason than that I once enjoyed the Sherlock Holmes stories. - Brad


It was a cold, overcast November day, the day after Thanksgiving, and having the Friday off hung heavily upon me, for I am accustomed to working on weekdays. I had lit a fire which I was trying to enjoy, had listlessly flipped through the channels, but gave up and flicked off the television. The ticking of the clock only emphasized the monotony.

As I sat blankly staring out the window, I heard a knock upon the door. As I do not have an electric door chime, but a simple metal plate knocker, the loud noise startled and annoyed me, especially as my visitor knocked not just once, but persisted in knocking, rapidly and with great force.

It was, consequently, with little grace that I moved quickly toward the door to send this salesman upon his way, for I was expecting nobody, and those infrequent times when neighbors came to call, they had the kindness not to pummel my door.

To my surprise, it was not a salesman, but a small and distressed man in ministerial garb.

"I beg your pardon for bursting in like this," he said, "but I need your assistance immediately."

Somewhat taken aback, I asked the Rev. John McElsey - for that was the name by which he introduced himself - to come in and to have a seat beside the fire, an offer which he accepted gratefully, wiping his moist brow with his shirtsleeve, although the temperature, even in my sitting room, was hardly conducive to perspiration. Then, again he apologized for his intrusion.

"Well. What can I do for you?" I asked, at once impatient about his interuption of my monotony and curious about his visit.

"I am looking for a Mr. James Babcock." he said anxiously.

"I am he."

"I'm afraid I'm looking for someone quite older. Someone who served in World War Two.

"That would be Mr. James Babcock Senior," I said. "I'm his son."

"Oh dear. Can you direct me to where I might find your father?"

"I'm afraid I cannot. My father lived with me for several years, but he just died a week ago."

"Oh dear! Oh dear!" he said. Forgive me," he said, "but I wish to be quite certain I have the right James Babcock. Did your father receive a Purple Heart for an injury he suffered at the battle of Tarawa during the Second World War?"

I stared at the man, startled, for as far as I knew, my father had never mentioned the medal to anyone, for his experiences in the war were something he kept to himself, and, in fact, I had not known about the medal myself until just recently, when I discovered it and the accompanying documentation among his effects.

"How did you know that?" I demanded.

"Oh my God, my God, my God," he said, burying his face in his hands and pulling at his hair.

I stood up. "What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

Finally he lifted his head.

"Please let me explain from the beginning," he said.

"Please do!"

"I am the minister of St. James Church, where I have served for about eight years. I am fairly well known about town, he said, with what I took to be a flutter of pride, but it is unlikely you also know that I am - or perhaps I should say, 'was' - rather forward looking in my social and theological views. I am afraid that perhaps I was more progressive in my outlook on what conservative members of the clergy would consider 'sin' and 'theology' than was - in light of what has happened - entirely wise."

"Look," I said, "I really don't see what your views about God have to do with me, and I'd rather not be all day about this."

"Yes. Yes. I quite understand your impatience, but I promise I will tie all this together as quickly as possible."

"Thank you."

"My theology, I'm afraid, has very much to do with this. To put it simply, I believed in God no more than I believed in the Easter Bunny. And I tell you this simply because I want you to believe I am not accustomed to ... uh ... making claims about matters of ... well ... an extraordinary nature."

"Go on," I said.

"A little more than a week ago," he continued, "I was in my study trying to read, but wholly without success, for earlier in the day I had been approached by a young man on the street who said to me, 'He who has the Son has the life. He who does not have the Son of God does not have the life.' I had, of course, encountered such people before, for my stands on various issues have not been well received by the more conservative Christian community, and I have at times encountered those who have expressed their feelings to me using Biblical allusions. But it was different this time. There was ... and I find this hard to express ... something kind yet painfully intense in this young man's demeanor.

"So, as I sat trying to read, my mind was distressed. I tried to thrust away his words, but like one of those rubber balls attached to a paddle by a string of elastic, it kept bouncing back at me. Did I have the son? Did I have the life? I gave up trying to ignore the thought and tried instead to look it in the face and acknowledge it so I could get on with my reading. But far from leaving me be, it grew upon me, and finally, in frustration and anger, and despite my disbelief, I cried aloud: 'God! Go away!'

"It was in this state of mind - which I fear will lead you to believe that I am in need of a psychiatrist - that the desk and lamp before me began to move away. The room with its windows and the sofa and the very book in my hands and my hands themselves began pulling back from me. All reality, and... I can say it now... God himself, seemed to be drawing away from me.

"I can barely express how frightened I was at the thought of being left alone, and I cried out, 'No, God, come back!' And as I spoke those words the room settled back into its normal appearance, and I was left in this frightened state with the uncomfortable thought that I'd been speaking to God though I didn't believe in God. I believed in Life and the Universe and the Web of Existence, but I didn't believe in someone you could talk to. But apparently I did believe in God... more than I was hitherto willing to admit - even to myself.

"I had by this time given up my attempt at reading, and was simply sitting, shaken, at my desk. Now, despite the glow of the lamp on my desk, which continued undiminished, the room grew black and three lights appeared directly above me, and from one of them a drop fell and splashed on my head. I wiped my hand against my face and pulled it away, and discovered to my horror that my hand was covered with blood.

"'You shall be my servant,' came a voice that was both a statement and a question. It was a beautiful but frightening voice, and quite distinct to me, though it seemed inaudible to my cat, which lay upon the sofa quite untroubled, though I must say that it was not until after recovering from the shock of this message that I noticed either the cat or anything else.

"'Yes, Lord,' I said, although it seemed as if I had no choice in the matter. But on the other hand, it seems I threw my heart into the decision with a wild joy. As I did so a delerium of ecstasy rolled over me. My simple study took on a radiance. Each color emitted a vivid hue, and the stars I could see from the window shone with a purity and clarity I'd never noticed before.

"And then, after an hour or several, I don't know which, it was over. I need hardly tell you that my outlook on life changed, not to mention my theology. But in any case, a few nights later a most frightening apparition manifested itself before me in my room. I don't mean to say it was repulsive or wicked, in fact I can only describe it as beautiful and pure, to such a degree that it was painful to my eyes.

"It, or rather, 'he,' said, 'I am Michael. You shall go to James Babcock and tell him: "Prepare your heart, for you shall not live out this week."' That my message might be believed, he told me of your father's Purple Heart.

"You will scarcely credit it, recalling what I had just been through, but I'm afraid I wasn't as obedient as I should have been. On various days I started out the door, at least three times, then my steps would falter, and I would return home, feeling torn. How could I tell your father, someone I had never met, this crazy and frightening prediction? And what if it wasn't true. And now I have delayed too long and your father is gone. Oh God! Oh God!" he wailed.

"This is preposterous!" I cried. "I barely know you and I certainly don't know your crazy god. You have indeed convinced me you need a psychiatrist. Kindly leave my house at once!"

And he did, full of apologies for intruding, but moaning his "Oh Gods!" as he walked down the front path.

I slammed the door, simmering with anger, returned to my seat and stared blankly at the now-dying fire.

How did that old fool know about my father's medal? Perhaps he got it from military records and then decided to play on my father's fears.

I thought back on my father's death. In his final days, drugged to take the edge off his pain, he babbled happily but incoherently about Jesus, and about a man he barely knew who told him to repent. He was out of his mind with the illness and drugs.

Ah! Why bother thinking about this? I told myself. That reverend was a fool! If God existed, why would he send such a message to my father, who already - if you could believe his ramblings - believed in him?

Satisfied, I got up and put another log on the fire, then settled back in my chair with a contented sigh.

Suddenly my face went cold and my heart shrank.

Who was it exactly that the angel told McElsey to warn? It was James Babcock Senior... wasn't it?

Christians at Work in North Korea

A fascinating article in The London Times about the slow implosion of North Korea's cruel regime, and the part Christians are playing in it. I hope we're all ready to help when the collapse comes. Here are some clips from the story, but read the whole thing.

"Word has spread like wildfire [in North Korea] of the Christian underground that helps fugitives to reach South Korea. People who lived in silent fear now dare to speak about escape."

And...

"North Koreans confirmed that they knew that escapers to China should look for buildings displaying a Christian cross and should ask among Korean speakers for people who knew the word of Jesus."

And...

"Here in the north of the country, faith, crime and sheer cold are eroding the regime's grip at a speed that may surprise the CIA's analysts."

And...

"The secret police cannot staunch the word of the gospel. Two of our party turned out to be Christian businessmen who had come from China carrying wads of cash. Korean-language Bibles have been smuggled in by the hundreds."

Missionaries to the Future

For a long time I thought that if there was one commandment that we had obeyed, it was the Genesis command to populate the world. I thought we had, in fact, overdone it. Mabye I was wrong or maybe I was right, but either way, that time is long past.

The Western world, which means that part of the world containing most of the Christians, is not only no longer populating the world, it is depopulating it. My understanding is that in many places, our birth rate is below replacement levels. If it continues in this way, Christianity will increasingly be a fading factor on the world stage, while Islam, whose adherents are having children, will grow increasingly strong.

With that in mind, I think we need to think differently of children. Not only are they a personal blessing, but they are also a blessing to the world. They are, if I can coin a phrase, missionaries to the future.

Is what we believe important only for us? Don't future generations need to hear the gospel? Since we won't be here to share it, who will share it if not our children?

God and the Tsunami

I got a letter today from someone said he knows faith is not a rational emotion, but he is deeply bothered by why God appears to be so quiet in the face of disasters (I assumed he was thinking primarily of the tsunami in the Indian Ocean), especially when he was so active in the Old Testament. I thought I'd post my response, for what it's worth.


Hi,

I actually think Christianity is rational, although it may not appear to be rational at times, just as some of the discoveries of science appear to be irrational, but they are only irrational from our - or, at least, my - limited perspective. For example, if I understand correctly, scientists believe that electrons circling in atoms can jump between lower and higher orbits without passing through the intervening space. To me that seems pretty irrational, but if it is indeed the case, I believe there is a rational explanation for it even if I don't know it, and even if I can't understand it.

Your concern seems to be that God is silent when it appears he should be active and vocal. You mention that in the Old Testament he was active.

First, about the Old Testament. Remember that the Old Testament miracles were spread out over thousands of years, and how many were there? Maybe a couple hundred recorded? And they were all in a very limited area - in and around Israel. So the likelihood of your seeing a miracle, even in Old Testament times, would be very unlikely.

But that still leaves the question of why God so often appears to be silent or inactive. Why doesn't he step in and save people, like the 100,000-plus who have lost their lives from the tsunami? Or the little girl who steps in front of a truck and is killed, or the child dying of cancer?

It seems it would be wonderful if everyone lived to a ripe old age. But suppose everybody did live to a ripe old age? Then wouldn't we be asking these questions...

- Why does God allow people to forget even the people they most love?
- Why does God let people's bodies become so frail?
- Why does God let us go blind?
- Why does God allow people to die so suddenly, without even a chance to say goodbye?
- Why does God allow people to die so slowly, suffering for months or years?
- Why does God allow some people live to 105 while others only get to live to 92?
- What kind of a joke is God playing, making people only to let them die?

In essence, I think what we object to is that life is imperfect, that it is unfair because some people are happier or live longer than others, and that it all ends in death. We want paradise back.

But this, I'm afraid, is the curse we live with. But also, perhaps God is speaking in this disaster. Maybe God wants to impress on our minds that this life is tenuous, that there are no guarantees here about health and long life, that we should not put our full hope in this world, but put a good portion of our focus on the next life, and maybe he wants it clear that we can't wait until 15-minutes before our God-guaranteed lifespan is about to end before turning to Jesus.

I don't know. But not only does the Bible make no firm guarantees of long life and good health, but there are places where it promises disaster. Sections of the Old Testament and the Book of Revelation are examples.

Most of this is speculation, and I'm sure it doesn't answer your question fully. Like you, I want to understand as much as I can, but ultimately - Christian or non-Christian - you have to accept that there are questions for which you will not find a full answer. But at least, as a Christian, you can rest assured that a just and good answer really exists, because you believe in a just and good and all-knowing God.

God bless you

Crucify the Christians

Two days before Christmas I was a bit bored. So much so that I decided to look at chat rooms, which I had never really bothered with before. I went to a Christian chat room on Yahoo at about the time a group of what I will politely call "non-Christians" decided to barge in.

I watched briefly as "crucify_the_christians" and "angrysatan666" and others cursed and insulted Christians, typed obscenities in clever ways to avoid the filters, described what they said were Jesus' sexual preferences, and so forth.

Then "crucify" said Christians are ignorant.

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

He said we are ignorant because God doesn't make sense and the Bible is just a book written by humans.

"You ever read the Bible, Cruz?" I asked.

Sure he had, he said. His parents made him read it, and he really liked the nasty parts in the Old Testament about the God of anger and Hell.

Not recalling anything about Hell in the Old Testament, I asked him where he had seen this.

He didn't know.

"Can you name five books of the Bible, Cruz?"

He couldn't name one.

"You don't know the Bible at all, do you Cruz?"

That, he said, wasn't his point. His point was that Christians need to question the Bible.

Hmmm. So, he had barely a clue about the Bible's contents, but was sure it was wrong and should be questioned.

"I'm lost, Cruz."

"Good," he replied, "That's where you should be. The point," he said, "is that there is no point."

Ah. So I should be at the point where there are pointless points.

We also talked about the existance of God. I asked if he knew any of the arguments for the existance of God.

"How would you reply to the cosmological argument for God, Cruz?"

He didn't know what it was until I explained it.

But that was okay by him. All he wanted, he said, was to make Christians realize that there is no answer, that "the answer is a question."

I tried to point out that he had been making statements of what he believed to be fact, so he was kind of like Christians (and everybody else) in that he believed specific things to be true.

No, he said, that was "just a manner of speaking."

O-kay. So now we have points that don't have points and questions that are answers and facts that are just a manner of speaking. All that and he's sure God doesn't exist and the Bible is wrong although he hadn't a clue about the arguments for and against God and had nothing but the vaguest notions of what is in the Bible.

I offered to pray for him, and he asked me not to. It sounded as if the idea made him a bit nervous.

"Don't waste your breath, it won't help."

"Sorry, Cruz. You hang around Christians long enough and somebody's bound to pray for you."

So I did.

What was interesting about this slam-bang exchange was that I began to like Cruz, and he's been on my mind and I've prayed for him several times since. While I wasn't going to put up with his junior philosopher nonsense, I felt I kind of got to know a lost kid, probably in high school, who would likely be very polite and friendly in person.

Hey Cruz! I'm still praying for you, buddy.

Merry Christmas!

I just got back from a Christmas Eve service. Singing the beautiful old hymns, a simple message of Christ's advent, everybody with candles lit. It was packed and it was wonderful!

I'll bet the two best attended church services during the year are Christmas and Easter, partly because they're special days, but I'll bet part of it is that it is pretty hard to focus on silly trivia on those days. Unless your church is totally dead, the focus is Christ both days; Christ's birth on Christmas, and Christ's resurrection on Easter.

Maybe churches would be fuller on other days if they focused on Christ then too!

Merry Christmas!

The Churching of America

I just read an excellent and encouraging book, called The Churching of America: 1776-1990, by Roger Finke and Rodney Stark.

Basically, it's an historical examination of the church in America, and the book's messages are many. Perhaps the most encouraging message is that the church has actually been growing steadily throughout American history. And perhaps the most useful observation, or warning, is that the more worldly a denonimation becomes, the more dead it becomes. While that's hardly a surprise, it's good to see solid scholarship backing it up.

By "worldly" (my word, not theirs; they use sociological terms) I don't think the authors mean that it's a problem for the church to use modern techniques for communicating with people, but simply that a church will begin to wither if it begins to get fuzzy about its doctrine and about holy living.

The authors suggest that this toning down of the church's stands and soft pedaling of its harder doctrines is initially encouraged by wealthy church members and - interestingly - by the pastoral leadership of the church. Why? Because they both want to fit in with society. Then, one compromise leads to another and pretty soon you have a dying church.

I think this raises an interesting question: How much should the church try to identify with the world in order to win it? I suspect a lot of dying churches initially said they were trying to be more "relevant" to the world when they actually wanted to fit in better. I think a good test is this: Are we compromising our beliefs to fit in? If not, I think we're okay. If we are compromising, I think we're on a downward slope.

A few other interesting points:

The authors say that the downward trend for churches begins in the seminaries. For example, they note that the Methodist Church, after truly explosive growth, began to urge seminarians to study the latest liberal German theology. These students were then assigned to churches and spread their views there. Because the Methodist Church is hierarchal, the individual churches could not reject these pastors, so unhappy parishioners split off from - or were kicked out of - the church, some forming the basis of the Holiness Movement.

The Southern Baptists, on the other hand, do not have a hierarchal organization. Their seminaries went liberal too (and amazingly, had problems virtually from the start!), but unhappy Baptists could not be kicked out of their denomination because the denomination does not have that authority. So conservatives could stay and fight, and they have been fighting, and lately, winning. Also, Baptist churches can select anybody they please as pastor and kick them out if they please. For that reason the Southern Baptists have had more success in maintaining their faith, though it has been a continuing battle for their seminaries.

I take it from this that democracy is good at preserving orthodoxy, and unless a church strongly believes that hierarchy is God-ordained, it should lean toward democracy.

Another interesting observation from the book is that the truly explosive growth of the Baptists and Methodists came when they had unpaid or underpaid amateur preachers. Professional clergy, the authors argue, want to be treated as professionals, get good pay and be respected in the community. This, they argue, kind of nudges the church in a worldly direction. I have often thought that church jobs should pay less than the prevailing wage, for just this reason, so churches don't attract the uncommitted.

But what is truly amazing and exciting about this book is that it explodes the myth that church membership has been declining through the years in America. To the contrary, the authors say it has been on an almost stairstep upward path since colonial days, from 17 percent of the population being church members in 1776 to 60 percent being members in 1980.

The reason people think it has been declining, or has gone in waves, they say, is because they only look at the path of particular denominations, which do indeed rise and fall. But, they note, there are constant renewals that create new churches and revitalize faith. That is the most encouraging message of this book.

This is a very rich book, with a lot of insights, and I'm just touching the highlights here and not even doing them justice. I'm not totally convinced of everything the authors claim, and I am not even sure the authors are Christians, but their book is fascinating and well worth pondering. I highly recommend it.

Is It Just Me?

When I first became a Christian it seemed there was more emphasis in church on... well... God.

We still sing some great songs and hymns that glorify God, but it seems the emphasis has changed a bit; now it seems to be more about people - either what God will do to benefit us or that we ought to be doing something.

I have no objection to either of those topics; Jesus certainly spoke about benefits and responsibilities, and you can find plenty about both these topics throughout the Bible.

But it seems it should all flow from God. My faith is not a cost/benefit analysis and it is not a list of rules (or "principles" or "guidelines" or "steps" or whatever we want to call them), any more than my relationship with my wife is either of these things.

God is the one I love. I long to worship him. I long to connect with him. And when, in church, the benefits or responsibilities of the Christian life are shifted from being the outcome of my love for God to being the centerpiece of the Christian life, I'm disappointed, and I leave feeling I haven't connected with God.

Under Isaiah

Like the books of most of the Old Testament prophets, Isaiah strikes me as disjointed, and I think the reason is that it is not a single narrative, but apparently a series of sermons preached at different times. Nevertheless, there seems to be a general theme. Many of these sermons deal with the fate of nations, of Israel and its neighbors. Isaiah speaks of their sins and of God's judgement upon them, and then of his mercy and forgiveness and restoration for a repentant Israel.

But...

In the midst of these themes, you occasionally notice something a bit curious; something in the text that strikes a slightly discordant note - a promise, perhaps, that appears too lavish for the topic at hand. Odd... as if you were on a boat and noticed a curious swelling in the sea. But then the swelling subsides and the sea returns to normal.

And then, at other points, a beautiful transcendent passage flashes out of the narrative - sometimes for just a second - stunningly unrelated to the apparent topic, and then is gone again, like a jumping fish diving back into the ocean.

As you read, it becomes increasingly clear that Isaiah is about something even greater than the rise and fall of nations. There is something mysterious going on beneath the surface that occasionally breaks into the open. Sometimes you see messianic hints which seem, well... doubtful, blended, as they are, with other topics to the point where they are merely suggestive (Was it just a peculiar current? the reader may ask, or was there really something there under the water?). But at other times the messianic promises simply leap out of the water, flashing clearly in the sunlight, often at unexpected moments in the text.

And toward the end of the book the New simply breaks out with wild abandon - with long messianic passages, such as Isaiah 53, wonderful promises, and descriptions of a new world. The fate of nations is almost forgotten in its glory. It reminds me of the Bible as a whole - the hints and explicit prophesies of the Messiah in the Old Testament, followed by the glorious reality of the Messiah in the New Testament.

What Happened to Thanksgiving?

I'm not a Scrooge when it comes to Christmas, but it annoys me to be confronted with Christmas decorations and songs before Thanksgiving.

I remember I once did a story for a newspaper about a training class for Santas. They began work the day after Thanksgiving, and I remember thinking that was a bit excessive. But lately I've been seeing Christmas decorations before Halloween, and now, before Thanksgiving, they're everywhere.

For example, I was at Starbuck's this morning nursing a cup of coffee and the store was decorated with snowy wreaths, selling Christmas coffees and playing Christmas songs.

One patron suggested to an employee that it was a bit early for all this Christmas stuff, and another echoed, "Yeah!", and the employee kinda sighed, as if he agreed but didn't have any say in the matter.

Amen!

What's the matter with Thanksgiving? It's a nice low-key holiday that anybody can enjoy. It has Christian roots, but is not really a Christian holiday. Anybody can celebrate for any reason they want. You can be thankful for family or football, or turkey deep fried in peanut oil, a day off of work, or whatever.

Can't you merchants at least notice Thanksgiving before diving into Christmas? You keep starting Christmas earlier and earlier, so by the time it really arrives I'm going to be sick of it.

The Polar Express

I just saw the movie, The Polar Express, about a boy who awakens Christmas Eve to a steam train that stops right outside his house. He gets on and it takes him to the North Pole. I really liked the movie. In fact it brought back a strange memory I have barely thought about for decades.

I remember when I was a child I awoke in the early morning and looked out the bedroom window of our little crackerbox house. As I looked I saw a steam train with a light and black smoke from its funnel, silently puffing up the street toward my house. It was a short train, with just a few cars. It wasn't as nice as the Polar Express and it wasn't Christmas Eve, but, like the Polar Express, it was mysterious in an entrancing sort of way.

Later in the morning I told my mom and dad about the train.

They looked confused. They said there was no train on our street. My mom quite sensibly told me there were no tracks. She pointed out that we lived in a canyon that dead-ended into the mountain. There was nowhere for a train to go. She suggested I'd been dreaming. But all her comments seemed absurd to me at the time. Maybe the train was going to a gold mine at the head of the canyon, I thought. And her objection that there were no tracks seemed to me to be pure quibbling. But her logic eventually led me to doubt... somewhat. But to this day I still halfway believe that there is a steam train that goes up Pasadena Glen Road.

And I wonder where it's going.

Fixing Social Security

President Bush has suggested that people be allowed to put part of their Social Security money in their own retirement accounts. Fine, but the problem, as I understand it, is that the Social Security Administration is not putting your money away safe in the bank where it's earning interest (as it should be doing), but rather is using your money to pay current retirees. Therefore, if the gummint lets people put part of their money into their own retirement accounts, that means there's less money to pay current retirees, which means that for a while, there'd be a shortfall.

With that in mind, I want to share my ignorance - for free! - about how to minimize the shortfall to reduce the cost of Social Security.

Why not let anybody who is eligible for Social Security work tax free? No federal taxes - at all. If these people were going to retire otherwise, that's no income loss to the government. In return, the government would ask that they delay collecting Social Security for a few years. Nobody would have to do this, but some would, and that would save money. This has the side benefit of helping boost the economy and keeping seniors active and hopefully healthier. Also, I suspect that some of these seniors would be covered by their companies' health plans, which would save money for Medicare.

Alternately, working Social Security recipients could be taxed at maybe five percent of the normal rate, and the small amount that is collected from them would help fund Social Security.

The Social Security age for people just beginning to work should be raised. Lifespans have been increasing and people can generally work longer. People in the system, however, were promised a retirement date, and we should honor that.

Why not let workers put part of their Social Security money in private accounts if they agree to wait until they're older to withdraw their money. The older they are, the less delay they have to accept. If they want no delay, they'd just keep their money in the current system.

Why not give workers larger Social Security pensions the longer they delay taking it. I believe this is done to some extent already, and I think the concept should be extended.

Why not give people the option to donate their money to the Social Security system. Not many people will do that, but even if some do, it would help.