When I first started hunting, I saw deer everywhere. My vision--at the corners of my eyes, especially--was full of motion from deer running, deer jumping, deer fleeing my fearsomeness. Eventually I realized there weren't any deer in the woods around me. In fact, there was nothing moving at all, nothing except me. My eyes were deceiving me.
When you walk through woods, your perspective is continually changing so that every angle, shadow, patch of dark and light, is in constant motion and in constant change with relationship to the things around it. A snowy gap between two trees closes, and from the corner of your eye it looks like movement. The angle of one branch shifts along another as you walk, and it looks like movement. But it's not. It's just shifting perspective.
It's important when hunting that way that you not spend the whole day moving; in fact, most of it should be spent stationary. You only move to get to a new stationary perspective. And there, all the false movement of shadow and light stops. What's left is the real motion of bird and squirrel and falling leaf. And hopefully deer.
But to move constantly without stopping to fix your perspective is confusion. And foolishness.
Life's the same. We move constantly, and so the fixed things around us have the illusion of movement; the things that are really moving get exaggerated. In the woods I can stop, lean up against a tree, and look around me. But what do I do in life? How do I stop the whirl of time, the spinning of earth and stars? How do I see clearly when my vision is filled with the shadows of fear and chaos and calamity? In life, is there a place to simply stand and fix my perspective?
There is. In this life, the things around me appear as they truly are only when my feet are fixed upon the rock of God's word. It's the only constant thing in a world of changing perspective. It's solid ground when light and dark, shadow and substance threaten to confound me. In the woods, in this life, my eyes deceive me, so I have to stop often and just stand there. It's then that I see things as they really are.
"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging."
~ Psalm 42:2,3
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Rob Bell's Missed Opportunity
Maybe you've seen it. Most of the evangelical world has. It's an interview with Rob Bell on msnbc. The interviewer is Martin Bashir. If you haven't seen it, here it is. Be forewarned: the images you're about to see are uncomfortable...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vg-qgmJ7nzA
Bashir's first question is one most Christians have heard before: Given the tragedy we're seeing in Japan, which of these is true: Is God all-powerful and not loving? or is he loving but not all-powerful? My reaction as I heard this was "That's an easy one. Ask him something hard!" Not only was it framed as a logical fallacy--either or reasoning--it's also an easy one for any good, thinking Christian to knock down because there's a clear answer, a 3rd option.
So I waited for him to knock it down.
And I waited.
But Bell just talked in circles (the circles would take up the next 7 minutes). Then I realized something--that Rob Bell wasn't going to knock it down because he didn't have an answer, and he didn't have an answer because his theology had eliminated the third option. So in Bell's case the either-or question is not a fallacy at all but a real question that can't be answered because he's removed God's Holiness and Justice as the third - and correct - option.
God is love, and God is all-powerful, but God is also holy. When God intervenes in human tragedies and relieves our temporal suffering, he's showing us mercy--undeserved, as any mercy is. When he leaves us to our suffering, he's showing us his justice--rightly deserved, as all justice is. And he is sovereign over both. That was the right answer, but I think Bell gave up right answers a long time ago when he gave up an orthodox understanding of original sin.
I used to listen to Rob Bell. I went to his church for a summer. He seems like a really nice guy. I sincerely hope that he doesn't have to learn about God's justice the hard way, that God will show him mercy instead. Not the Rob Bell kind of mercy that goes out like halloween candy to everyone, but the sovereign God kind that loves and saves its own.
But either way, God Wins.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vg-qgmJ7nzA
Bashir's first question is one most Christians have heard before: Given the tragedy we're seeing in Japan, which of these is true: Is God all-powerful and not loving? or is he loving but not all-powerful? My reaction as I heard this was "That's an easy one. Ask him something hard!" Not only was it framed as a logical fallacy--either or reasoning--it's also an easy one for any good, thinking Christian to knock down because there's a clear answer, a 3rd option.
So I waited for him to knock it down.
And I waited.
But Bell just talked in circles (the circles would take up the next 7 minutes). Then I realized something--that Rob Bell wasn't going to knock it down because he didn't have an answer, and he didn't have an answer because his theology had eliminated the third option. So in Bell's case the either-or question is not a fallacy at all but a real question that can't be answered because he's removed God's Holiness and Justice as the third - and correct - option.
God is love, and God is all-powerful, but God is also holy. When God intervenes in human tragedies and relieves our temporal suffering, he's showing us mercy--undeserved, as any mercy is. When he leaves us to our suffering, he's showing us his justice--rightly deserved, as all justice is. And he is sovereign over both. That was the right answer, but I think Bell gave up right answers a long time ago when he gave up an orthodox understanding of original sin.
I used to listen to Rob Bell. I went to his church for a summer. He seems like a really nice guy. I sincerely hope that he doesn't have to learn about God's justice the hard way, that God will show him mercy instead. Not the Rob Bell kind of mercy that goes out like halloween candy to everyone, but the sovereign God kind that loves and saves its own.
But either way, God Wins.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Sports
My son wants to be a professional athlete. He's not particular about the sport - football, baseball, basketball - he'd take any job. I tell him that no one makes it to the big leagues except freaks (the ratio of pro athletes to regular folks qualifies them as freaks), but that doesn't make much difference.
My first instinct when he brings this up is to belittle sports because they're frivolous. They don't manufacture a product like the auto industry does or provide a needed service like a plumber. They don't serve anyone in meaningful ways like a doctor or teacher or social worker does. But then he plays his trump card. He says this to me...
He says, "But Dad, what about Tim Tebow?"
Tebow is to the you-shouldn't-be-a-pro-athlete argument, what dynamite is to rock/paper/scissors--nothing beats it. It's also not fair, just like dynamite.
The Tebow model for justifying a career in pro sports, in case you're not familiar with it, goes like this: professional sports provides a platform for Christian influence, ministry, and evangelism that no other industry provides. Just as look at what Tim's done with it! It has to be good and right! Right?
Like I said, it's unfair.
Here's why: Tebow's justification doesn't work as the justification for a career in sports because it puts the same Tebow expectation on any and every professional Christian athlete. Not everyone is called to be a pastor or teacher or evangelist. Not everyone is called to be Tim Tebow. Some are called to Jason Hansons. Quiet, steady, rock-solid Jason Hansons.
Would it be un-Christian to quietly go about your athletic career, working hard, working as unto the Lord, without praise, and doing it in such ways that only your teammates and coaches know anything about your faith? If the answer is no, if it wouldn't be un-Christian, then the Tebow model doesn't stand up as the justification for such a career. It may be his, but not everyone's, and not necessarily my boy's. If the answer is yes...well, the answer's not yes, it's no.
So there must be more to our choice of vocation than the potential leverage for proclaiming the gospel.
I look again at my gut objection, that pro athletes "don't serve anyone in meaningful ways like a doctor or teacher or social worker does." As I think about the nature of work, I realize that my perceptions of value here are arbitrary. My gut tells me that the work of a doctor is intrinsically more valuable than that of a mechanic, whose work is more valuable than that of a pro athlete, whose work might be just a smidge better than a Hollywood actor.
Why do I think that? I shouldn't think that.
If I work in a plant in Louisville producing baseball bats, will I be doing more valuable work than playing the game for a paying audience? Less valuable? Is writing code for an actuarial table intrinsically better than writing it for a computer game? If so, how does the line get drawn? If not, why do we find it so easy to draw such lines?
I've always thought, and so told my kids, that a career in professional sports is silly and beneath one's dignity. Now, I'm not so sure. Jobs have become so specialized and fragmented that it's hard to qualify one as noble and another as silly. There are extremes, of course, and those tend to be easier to classify. A farmer works hard and feeds people. That's a good job and a no-brainer, right? A drug-dealer or day-time talkshow host destroys lives--his own and others. No-brainer, again. But between the two, where most of us work, it gets difficult. And I think it's difficult because, extremes notwithstanding, it's a futile exercise. To try to assign some value to work based on its cosmic good, or whatever, is just silly. It breaks down as soon as you look closely at it.
If Joe works in a factory producing picture frames, does he need to discern the empirical value of picture frames in society in order to determine the value of his work? We don't need picture frames, not really. They're nice but not necessary. But if Joe stops his thinking there, then he's sunk. He's living a wasted life. On the other hand, if Joe remembers that he's providing for his family through "honest" work, that God hasn't prohibited us from making picture frames (not that I'm aware of), that he's exercising dominion over the earth by subduing raw materials and creating something useful, then Joe has a career to be proud of. One of the leading Christians of the church in Philippi was Lydia, a seller of purple. Does anyone really need purple? No, but God made purple, so it's good. There's no scriptural prohibition against it, and as far as we know, God left her alone to keep selling it.
So maybe the criteria for work's value is not an empirical quality of the service or product, but something in the act of working itself. But that begs a question: what is the something?
The answer to that helps me draw my lines clearly. The something is faith. Paul says in Romans 14, "whatever does not proceed from faith is sin." And what is faith? Believing that God's word is true and that it's our only guide in all of life. If my son's choice (should he have the opportunity) to become a pro athlete proceeds from that, genuinely proceeds from that, then who am I to stop him?
Of course, he'd have to play on Sundays.
Hmm...maybe I need to check my gut again.
My first instinct when he brings this up is to belittle sports because they're frivolous. They don't manufacture a product like the auto industry does or provide a needed service like a plumber. They don't serve anyone in meaningful ways like a doctor or teacher or social worker does. But then he plays his trump card. He says this to me...
He says, "But Dad, what about Tim Tebow?"
Tebow is to the you-shouldn't-be-a-pro-athlete argument, what dynamite is to rock/paper/scissors--nothing beats it. It's also not fair, just like dynamite.
The Tebow model for justifying a career in pro sports, in case you're not familiar with it, goes like this: professional sports provides a platform for Christian influence, ministry, and evangelism that no other industry provides. Just as look at what Tim's done with it! It has to be good and right! Right?
Like I said, it's unfair.
Here's why: Tebow's justification doesn't work as the justification for a career in sports because it puts the same Tebow expectation on any and every professional Christian athlete. Not everyone is called to be a pastor or teacher or evangelist. Not everyone is called to be Tim Tebow. Some are called to Jason Hansons. Quiet, steady, rock-solid Jason Hansons.
Would it be un-Christian to quietly go about your athletic career, working hard, working as unto the Lord, without praise, and doing it in such ways that only your teammates and coaches know anything about your faith? If the answer is no, if it wouldn't be un-Christian, then the Tebow model doesn't stand up as the justification for such a career. It may be his, but not everyone's, and not necessarily my boy's. If the answer is yes...well, the answer's not yes, it's no.
So there must be more to our choice of vocation than the potential leverage for proclaiming the gospel.
I look again at my gut objection, that pro athletes "don't serve anyone in meaningful ways like a doctor or teacher or social worker does." As I think about the nature of work, I realize that my perceptions of value here are arbitrary. My gut tells me that the work of a doctor is intrinsically more valuable than that of a mechanic, whose work is more valuable than that of a pro athlete, whose work might be just a smidge better than a Hollywood actor.
Why do I think that? I shouldn't think that.
If I work in a plant in Louisville producing baseball bats, will I be doing more valuable work than playing the game for a paying audience? Less valuable? Is writing code for an actuarial table intrinsically better than writing it for a computer game? If so, how does the line get drawn? If not, why do we find it so easy to draw such lines?
I've always thought, and so told my kids, that a career in professional sports is silly and beneath one's dignity. Now, I'm not so sure. Jobs have become so specialized and fragmented that it's hard to qualify one as noble and another as silly. There are extremes, of course, and those tend to be easier to classify. A farmer works hard and feeds people. That's a good job and a no-brainer, right? A drug-dealer or day-time talkshow host destroys lives--his own and others. No-brainer, again. But between the two, where most of us work, it gets difficult. And I think it's difficult because, extremes notwithstanding, it's a futile exercise. To try to assign some value to work based on its cosmic good, or whatever, is just silly. It breaks down as soon as you look closely at it.
If Joe works in a factory producing picture frames, does he need to discern the empirical value of picture frames in society in order to determine the value of his work? We don't need picture frames, not really. They're nice but not necessary. But if Joe stops his thinking there, then he's sunk. He's living a wasted life. On the other hand, if Joe remembers that he's providing for his family through "honest" work, that God hasn't prohibited us from making picture frames (not that I'm aware of), that he's exercising dominion over the earth by subduing raw materials and creating something useful, then Joe has a career to be proud of. One of the leading Christians of the church in Philippi was Lydia, a seller of purple. Does anyone really need purple? No, but God made purple, so it's good. There's no scriptural prohibition against it, and as far as we know, God left her alone to keep selling it.
So maybe the criteria for work's value is not an empirical quality of the service or product, but something in the act of working itself. But that begs a question: what is the something?
The answer to that helps me draw my lines clearly. The something is faith. Paul says in Romans 14, "whatever does not proceed from faith is sin." And what is faith? Believing that God's word is true and that it's our only guide in all of life. If my son's choice (should he have the opportunity) to become a pro athlete proceeds from that, genuinely proceeds from that, then who am I to stop him?
Of course, he'd have to play on Sundays.
Hmm...maybe I need to check my gut again.
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