“For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountain of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries.”
— Robert Jastrow, The Enchanted Loom: The Mind of the Universe (1981), as quoted in Eric Metaxas’ Miracles (2014)
“’Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?’ Genesis 18:25 is the last resting place of perplexed and godly minds.”
If you asked me in my old age to tell you one thing about January 11, 2015 in my life, I would tell you it was the day I discovered a way to do something about the goosebumps I felt the other day reading Psalm 33: get out the new Kala KA-T] ukulele my mother gave me for Christmas and start making music to God, learning the instrument as I go.
I discovered this as a I sat on the love-seat in our living room this evening, clumsily strumming along with the chord sheet for “Jesus Is Yours” up on my computer, which sat on the seat of the rocking chair across from me while the kids drifted off to sleep in their bunk bed and Carla watched a television program on her computer from the living room sofa.
In time, I hope to write my own songs and perhaps sing-pray with this uke.
I would also tell you that today was the day I was proud of Éa and Carla for working hard enough on learning to read to be able to read the words “creek,” “shrug,” “wreck,” and “recent,” which my dad spelled in bathtub letters perched on a wooden rack and displayed to her via Skype.
I would also tell you that through the same exercise with Sullivan, the kids learned what the word “conscience” means—a word Carla had suggested my dad spell to try to stump Sullivan, and incidentally the word that got me booted from my fifth-grade spelling bee.
Finally, I would also tell you that I enjoyed a game of hide-and-seek with Sullivan and Éa at the Peters’ house—an excellent house for the game—after house church today. I would tell you about the inviting peace I sensed upon entering the Peters’ den, where a wood stove roared, and the joy I felt by hiding from the kids by sitting under Carla on a recliner in the middle of the Peters’ living room.
“There should be a sign on every website in the world over the comments section that reads, ‘Here there be dragons.’”
“Faith & doubt are not enemies. Faith & doubt are dance partners.”
“The Christian apologetic isn’t in argumentation/debate; it’s in love.”
— Danny Cortez, as quoted by Rachel Held Evans
It’s possible that my recent spate of dreams I remember, which includes:
is completely nothing. It probably is. Any feeling to contrary is probably superstition. And I feel slightly ashamed for it feeling it.
But it’s been every night.
I got goosebumps this evening when I read…
“…Sing for joy in the Lord, O you righteous ones; Praise is becoming to the upright. Give thanks to the Lord with the lyre; Sing praises to Him with a harp of ten strings. Sing to Him a new song; Play skillfully with a shout of joy. For the word of the Lord is upright, And all His work is done in faithfulness. He loves righteousness and justice; The earth is full of the lovingkindness of the Lord.
[…]
“Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear Him, On those who hope for His lovingkindness, To deliver their soul from death And to keep them alive in famine. Our soul waits for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. For our heart rejoices in Him, Because we trust in His holy name. Let Your lovingkindness, O Lord, be upon us, According as we have hoped in You” (Psalm 33:1-5,18-22).
And I think I got goosebumps because I’m supposed to have this same attitude in me. And I’m supposed to sing to Him.
“Rooted in hatred of the light, our blindness is not exculpatory, but blameworthy. It does not remove our guilt. It is our guilt.”
— John Piper, in a tweet that sits very well with me. I am such a chimera: I love so much of what Piper brings to the table, but hate so much of it, too. I think he’s right about human blindness, but I think he is wrong about it, too. Does the above formulation strike me as true and good merely because it’s what I’m used to, merely because it feels like home? Am I, are we, indeed guilty for not being able to see Him?
“When you are convinced it’s broken, read the manual. Your interpretation of ‘obvious’ my differ from its designer.”
— Mike McHargue, in a tweet he left ambiguous as whether he was talking about actual technical documentation, the Bible, or something else. I do think there is something helpful in his formulation in settling the problem of evil.
“Love God and do what you want.”
— Andrew Shearman, as reported by Ethan, with whom a visiting Jason and I sat with at Happy Valley Brewing and discussed many things, including, but this topic of how to govern and steer one’s life being the most salient and edifying. I rephrased Shearman’s idea in a way that was helpful to both my friends: “Unless you have a specific calling—which you’ll know when you feel it—whether you move to Cambodia to end sex slavery or stay here and love people well, you can’t go wrong as long as you love God.”
As I got dressed this morning, I realized that the main source of the doubt-borne anxiety I felt so frequently starting in May last year is identity. That explains why not acting Christian scares me: If I’m not acting Christian, that’s the final evidence to me that who I am has changed. Combine that with the fact that the doubt was only very partially volitional meant that I was losing who I am against my will.
Same thing applies at the other loci of my doubt-borne anxiety: I’ve always been one who feels God in nature, so if I find I am able to look at a sunset without feeling God, I’m no longer me. I’ve always been one to stare death in the face and think “no big deal,” so when I find that I’m uncertain about the afterlife, I’m no longer me. I’ve always been a Christian confident of what he believes—including a happy afterlife—and able to communicate it all unashamedly and unalloyedly, including to my children, so when I find that has changed, I’m no longer me.
So, I must honestly add to my forthcoming believe/disbelieve table not only that I want to believe, but also that I want to believe because Christianity is my identity, and therefore disbelief causes excruciating anxiety.
I woke up Sunday morning with Max von Sydow’s name in my head and an inkling that this name might be a hint from God. All I remembered upon waking was that he was an actor or a director. On Wikipedia that morning I discovered he played the knight in The Seventh Seal, Jesus in The Greatest Story Every Told, the villian in Minority Report, and Karl-Oskar in Troell’s 1971 film adaptation of Moberg’s The Emigrants. I read no further in the Wikipedia entry because I felt the reason I was to be thinking about von Sydow was contained in this opening paragraph’s list of his most notable movies.
I wasn’t sure at first what God might be getting at and asked Him to clarify which film was of interest to Him. It became clear upon further reflection: It was The Emigrants. Carla has recently enjoyed three of the four novels in that series and often talks of how she wishes I could read the books she reads so we could share in them. And I had just the other night and several recent nights before asked God to restore the love between us and help me to love Carla well. Watching the film adaptation of these novels that Carla so appreciated with her would be a away to proactively, creatively love her.
So I set to finding a copy. All I found were a few VHS copies in a libraries across the Commonwealth. But later that morning I opened one of the blue desk/TV stand drawers looking for software for Éa’s new keyboard and found along with the CD-ROM I sought a pair of DVD-Rs that Greta had given us for Christmas that contained The Emigrants and The New Land!
Could Greta have mentioned von Sydow’s name upon presenting the gift to us a few weeks ago and my subconscious mind surfaced it on its own, either in self-answer to my prayer or totally randomly? Yes. Do nonetheless I believe that it was the Holy Spirit giving Carla and me—especially me—a little gift in answer to my prayers about loving Carla and about Him talking to me and making Himself more real to me? Yes.
“Faith in the ‘crucified God' is …a contradiction of everything [people] have ever…desired to be assured of by the term.”
—Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God
While on an evening prayer-walk, I noticed a shadowy smoker sitting on the bench along the bike path just on the other side of the Puddintown Road Spring Creek bridge. He would have heard me praying for Frank’s infirmities to be gone. After passing him, the thought occurred to me that I should turn around and offer to pray for the shadowy, silent sitter. I did not.
Why do acts of faith have to involve strangers? Is that merely a product of my charismatic background? Why aren’t I ever sure it’s You in that type of situation?
“To read without military knowledge or good maps accounts of fighting which were distorted before they reached the Divisional general and further distorted before they left him and then ‘written up’ out of all recognition by journalists, to strive to master what will be contradicted the next day, to fear and hope intensely on shaky evidence, is surely an ill use of the mind. Even in peacetime I think those are very wrong who say that schoolboys should be encouraged to read the newspapers. Nearly all that a boy reads there in his teens will be known before he is twenty to have been false in emphasis and interpretation, if not in fact as well, and most of it will have lost all importance. Most of what he remembers he will therefore have to unlearn; an he will probably have acquired an incurable taste for vulgarity and sensationalism and the fatal habit of fluttering from paragraph to paragraph to learn how an actress has been divorced in California, a train derailed in France, and quadruplets born in New Zealand” (C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy [1955]).
He may have missed the potential parallels skeptics would surmise between the news and the Gospel accounts, but nevertheless, it is good to find a kindred spirit in my eschewing of the news.
“Heart versus head (spirit versus mind) is a cliché, and false dichotomy.”
Here’s an interesting cartoon.
“It is your responsibility to stop listening to voices that hinder your ongoing growth and maturity.”
— Rob Bell
The uncertainty surrounding death informs me and is useful: Love well, and love always.
I’m very grateful for the walk Uncle Steve and I took today around Mom’s neighborhood. He told me his testimony—it was boredom that led him to Christ—and then about the miraculous healing of his bones following being crushed by a 1200-or-so-lb. steel plate when he was seventeen.
“A wise enemy will attack you on two fronts: exploit your weaknesses, and undermine confidence in your strength. Don’t be surprised when there is much ‘push back’ against you from all quarters (natural and spiritual) when you set your mind to be authentically who you are in Christ and bless the world by expressing it. Our adversary and Christian religion will tolerate you listening to sermons and singing worship songs, etc. Set your sail to be authentically you in Christ, and war is on.”
“Imagine yourself if you weren’t following Jesus. Are you basically the same person? Then you aren’t following Jesus.”
I know what’s behind all my doubt-borne anxiety and obsessive, sinful trawling of the Internet in search of God (or not God): It’s a fear of being wrong. And a fear of uncertainty.
Rob Bell just officially loosened up my interpretation of Matthew 7:13-14. This passage isn’t discussing eternal life at all. It’s almost laughable that I used to think so!