I have nearly completed John Grisham's, The Confession, which I renewed today for the third time. The fact that it is taking me three library renewals to complete it is not entirely Grisham's fault. I have been very busy with other things. However, I must say that I have not enjoyed it as much many of his other novels. It contains a good deal of filler the reader could have easily guessed for himself, such as the results of the research found on the Internet about the killer. Basically it is a piece of thinly veiled propaganda against the death penalty. Of course, fiction of this type has many highly respected parallels such as Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Harriet Beecher Stowe's monumental attack on slavery. Knowing Grisham's political views, as anyone would who has read his books, made certain events in the story almost inevitable and consequently somewhat simplistic. Without the execution the story would have contributed to the notion that the system works and that innocent people aren’t likely to be executed. This is certainly an idea Grisham would not have wanted to promulgate.
The people in the story who pushed the execution of an innocent man forward seemed to have been far more concerned about the effect it would have on their careers than about the guilt associated with the taking of an innocent man's life. Though this may be a fair portrayal of some caught up in the administration of the capital punishment system, it seemed a bit over the top to me, and as unrealistic as to assume that all who favor the death penalty are willing to kill innocent people every now and again. In other words, it seems to me that Grisham's obsessive revulsion to the death penalty (which, to some extent, I share) interfered with his task of writing a realistic fiction involving this important issue.
As I once heard somewhere, I think, there are basically two kinds of good fiction: one in which the unbelievable is made believable, and the other in which the believable is made unbelievable. In the former, the author begins with a large canvas and lots of unbelievable actions, attitudes, and coincidences. It is his task to make the extraordinary events and characters in this story somehow seem possible or even plausible. The unreal must be made to seem realistic. The writer whose story falls into this category fails if, after all is said and done, there are too many fantastical characters, actions, or coincidences for the reader to think of the story as anything other than unreal.
Fiction in the latter of the two categories takes ordinary events, attitudes, and actions and makes them worthy of contemplation by developing inward, emotional and mental struggles. In this case, the writer must make events and characters compelling, which otherwise could easily become boring. Usually this is done by showing that nothing and no one is really without significance. Sometimes the main character in such a story is portrayed as a hero not because he is doing exciting, unbelievable things but because, for one reason or another, in spite of extraordinary mental, educational, or moral excellence, his life revolves around patiently doing unexciting things with faithfulness, fortitude, and excellence. His struggles and feats are largely inward. I like many of Grisham's books because they often fall into this latter category, which I greatly prefer. Unfortunately, this book did not.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Summer May Be Over, But Life Is Just Beginning
The weather was beautiful, but Hazel and I have talked a lot about how you can feel the crispness of fall in the air, even though the temperature still speaks of summer. We were outside today when she said, “This weather can really do a number on you emotionally.” I knew what she was talking about. We are both extremely sad when summer is over. The coming of fall and then winter is like a metaphor for all of life. With the weather, as with life, the coming seasons sometimes look dark and foreboding as we prepare to leave behind the careless, balmy days of summer for the harsh realities of the winter of our lives.
In a prophesy which alluded to the manner in which Peter would die, Jesus said to him, “When you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” What a singularly depressing future to contemplate, and yet, to some degree or another, it is the future that all of us must anticipate as winter approaches. Even without a literal crucifixion which this prophesy foreshadows, the loss of that simple, but glorious, autonomy that allows us to dress ourselves and go wherever we wish, is a very unappealing prospect. Freedom is such a precious gift.
When such disagreeable and unoptimistic thoughts suddenly creep uninvited into our consciousness, it is helpful to remember that according to Jesus, real freedom is not about being able to do whatever we want, whenever we want. It is, rather, about knowing the truth. And in this case, the truth is that as surely as spring follows winter, our predictable earthly demise will be followed by life, not death.
It is sometimes difficult to understand exactly what is meant by believing in Jesus, the single requirement for salvation often cited by Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament. But one thing it surely must mean is that we must believe what Jesus said when he told disciples “I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there you may be also.”
This is the fact that enabled Jesus and Peter to discuss Peter’s death in such an unemotional and dispassionate way. Peter’s future, like ours, involved life, not death. If this were not the case, as the apostle Paul said, we would be of all men most miserable. But that death shade to which the psalmist, David, alluded in the familiar Twenty-Third Psalm, that walk through the valley of the shadow of death, is but a momentary tunnel through which we must past before emerging into the glorious summer of that place Jesus has gone to prepare for us. Then we will be able to do much more than dress ourselves and go where we wish. Those little freedoms that we valued so highly on earth will be replaced with capacities for joy and exultation we simply and literally cannot now imagine. Again the words of the apostle come to mind, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things that God has prepared for them that love him.”
We cannot now examine and investigate things that cannot even be imagined in our heart. We can only believe, or dismiss as untrue, this information Jesus conveyed to us. We can only appropriate these “facts” with the eyes of faith. That is why our belief in Jesus and his words is of paramount importance.
We are faced with the same question Jesus put to Martha durning their discussion about immortality at the graveside of her brother, Lazarus. He said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, though he dies, yet shall he live. And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” The resurrection of Lazarus to a life of a few more years on this earth was merely an object lesson to illustrates the fact that death is not final, that to those who believe, though we die, yet we shall live. This spectacular miracle was performed to help Martha and the rest of us answer this most important question, “Do you believe this?” The wonderful prospect of living forever in a place of such unimaginable perfection, possibility, and self actualization seems to hinge on our answer to that penetrating question.
In a prophesy which alluded to the manner in which Peter would die, Jesus said to him, “When you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” What a singularly depressing future to contemplate, and yet, to some degree or another, it is the future that all of us must anticipate as winter approaches. Even without a literal crucifixion which this prophesy foreshadows, the loss of that simple, but glorious, autonomy that allows us to dress ourselves and go wherever we wish, is a very unappealing prospect. Freedom is such a precious gift.
When such disagreeable and unoptimistic thoughts suddenly creep uninvited into our consciousness, it is helpful to remember that according to Jesus, real freedom is not about being able to do whatever we want, whenever we want. It is, rather, about knowing the truth. And in this case, the truth is that as surely as spring follows winter, our predictable earthly demise will be followed by life, not death.
It is sometimes difficult to understand exactly what is meant by believing in Jesus, the single requirement for salvation often cited by Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament. But one thing it surely must mean is that we must believe what Jesus said when he told disciples “I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there you may be also.”
This is the fact that enabled Jesus and Peter to discuss Peter’s death in such an unemotional and dispassionate way. Peter’s future, like ours, involved life, not death. If this were not the case, as the apostle Paul said, we would be of all men most miserable. But that death shade to which the psalmist, David, alluded in the familiar Twenty-Third Psalm, that walk through the valley of the shadow of death, is but a momentary tunnel through which we must past before emerging into the glorious summer of that place Jesus has gone to prepare for us. Then we will be able to do much more than dress ourselves and go where we wish. Those little freedoms that we valued so highly on earth will be replaced with capacities for joy and exultation we simply and literally cannot now imagine. Again the words of the apostle come to mind, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things that God has prepared for them that love him.”
We cannot now examine and investigate things that cannot even be imagined in our heart. We can only believe, or dismiss as untrue, this information Jesus conveyed to us. We can only appropriate these “facts” with the eyes of faith. That is why our belief in Jesus and his words is of paramount importance.
We are faced with the same question Jesus put to Martha durning their discussion about immortality at the graveside of her brother, Lazarus. He said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, though he dies, yet shall he live. And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” The resurrection of Lazarus to a life of a few more years on this earth was merely an object lesson to illustrates the fact that death is not final, that to those who believe, though we die, yet we shall live. This spectacular miracle was performed to help Martha and the rest of us answer this most important question, “Do you believe this?” The wonderful prospect of living forever in a place of such unimaginable perfection, possibility, and self actualization seems to hinge on our answer to that penetrating question.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
The Speed of Obsolescence
I am astounded by the current speed of obsolescence. Today I began the slow and arduous task of incinerating about four feet of eight and a half by eleven-inch paper. The combination of typed and handwritten notes, documentation, and many other things represented by those millions of black letters on white paper were all, at one time, very important to me. Most of the work represented by these reams and reams of paper was wrought with considerable perseverance, industry, and with no small amount of midnight oil. It’s hard to believe that so much paper, magnetic media and other things that once seemed so important could have so quickly become totally unnecessary.
I have always been so glad to get things set up neatly, effectively, and “finally,” as if once arranged in this manner, nothing would need to be changed. For example, a number of years ago I purchased a new IBM AS/400 computer, and I badly needed to preserve the option of running some older programs on its predecessor. The AS/400 was one of a series of extraordinarily-dependable, multi-tasking processors known as midrange computers. They ranked just below the gargantuan IBM mainframes in processing power and could easily support a pretty large business or bank. At that time I owned two legacy peripheral devices which were very important to me. One was a huge reel-to-reel tape drive and the other, an eight-inch diskette drive. I was so happy and relieved when I learned that the new box would accommodate a processor card by which I could connect both of these media drives. And so I was all set. I could continue to connect both my new and my old machines to these two indispensable auxiliary devices. Everything was “up to date in Kansas City!” What more could a person want?
Now years later those two old computers are still sitting quietly in a corner. They have been retired for many years now and replaced many times with the latest of their descendents. But I still hold on to both of them, and they are still connected to those old media drives though neither the computers nor the drives have been needed for a very long time now.
And yet, there is always that slight chance they might again be wanted for some task only they could accomplish. And then, like old men, now largely overlooked by the world, they would hear that nearly-forgotten call to battle, and with heads erect and backs as straight as age permitted, they would once again proudly suit up and swing into action.
I used to think these venerable old computer would have a much longer useful life and that they would always retain at least some of their former glory. Perhaps the older ones could be passed on to charities or ministries. Or, like someone who drives and works on old cars, maybe in years to come, I could accomplish all I needed to with these ingenious machines even as newer ones became available. But it was not to be.
In addition to all of this, and in spite of our best efforts to the contrary, we face an emotional struggle as we attempt to unload this baggage for which we find no useful purpose in this strange new land we now call home. As we wrestle with these obsolete objects, we are sometimes confronted with a purpose they seem to hold beyond the simply utilitarian. We are tempted to wonder if in disposing of them we are also disposing of our own life and usefulness to the world. Although they are no longer of practical use, we wonder if somehow it is not irreverent to toss them away so glibly. After all, if we were moving to a strange new country where so much of life and language had to be unlearned and relearned, would we not want to take as many artifacts as possible from our old country to remind our new friends, as well as ourselves, of our former country and of what our life used to be like while living there?
I have always been so glad to get things set up neatly, effectively, and “finally,” as if once arranged in this manner, nothing would need to be changed. For example, a number of years ago I purchased a new IBM AS/400 computer, and I badly needed to preserve the option of running some older programs on its predecessor. The AS/400 was one of a series of extraordinarily-dependable, multi-tasking processors known as midrange computers. They ranked just below the gargantuan IBM mainframes in processing power and could easily support a pretty large business or bank. At that time I owned two legacy peripheral devices which were very important to me. One was a huge reel-to-reel tape drive and the other, an eight-inch diskette drive. I was so happy and relieved when I learned that the new box would accommodate a processor card by which I could connect both of these media drives. And so I was all set. I could continue to connect both my new and my old machines to these two indispensable auxiliary devices. Everything was “up to date in Kansas City!” What more could a person want?
Now years later those two old computers are still sitting quietly in a corner. They have been retired for many years now and replaced many times with the latest of their descendents. But I still hold on to both of them, and they are still connected to those old media drives though neither the computers nor the drives have been needed for a very long time now.
And yet, there is always that slight chance they might again be wanted for some task only they could accomplish. And then, like old men, now largely overlooked by the world, they would hear that nearly-forgotten call to battle, and with heads erect and backs as straight as age permitted, they would once again proudly suit up and swing into action.
I used to think these venerable old computer would have a much longer useful life and that they would always retain at least some of their former glory. Perhaps the older ones could be passed on to charities or ministries. Or, like someone who drives and works on old cars, maybe in years to come, I could accomplish all I needed to with these ingenious machines even as newer ones became available. But it was not to be.
In addition to all of this, and in spite of our best efforts to the contrary, we face an emotional struggle as we attempt to unload this baggage for which we find no useful purpose in this strange new land we now call home. As we wrestle with these obsolete objects, we are sometimes confronted with a purpose they seem to hold beyond the simply utilitarian. We are tempted to wonder if in disposing of them we are also disposing of our own life and usefulness to the world. Although they are no longer of practical use, we wonder if somehow it is not irreverent to toss them away so glibly. After all, if we were moving to a strange new country where so much of life and language had to be unlearned and relearned, would we not want to take as many artifacts as possible from our old country to remind our new friends, as well as ourselves, of our former country and of what our life used to be like while living there?
Saturday, November 13, 2010
An Up and Coming Atheist
This morning I watched a lecture on C-Span by Sam Harris, an up and coming atheist who has recently written The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values. His thesis is that we can arrive at morality without the authoritarian dictates of religion. He spent quite a bit of time pointing out the inadequacy of the Muslim religion to establish a basis for morality. He used this extreme example to show that all religious tenets are, to some extent, based on unscientific and often unreasonable assumptions and, therefore, cannot be relied upon to establish morality. Yet, he recognizes that science has always been reluctant to make statements about morality concluding that this was a subject better suited to religion or philosophy.
He mentioned a conversation he once had with a woman after one of his lectures. He described her as one “who seemed, at first glance, to be very well-positioned to reason effectively about the implications of science for our understanding of morality.” He went on to say that she holds degrees in biology, genetics, and law from such schools as Dartmouth and Harvard. He said she was a recognized authority “on the intersection between criminal law, genetics, neuroscience and philosophy.” He also said she had subsequently been appointed by President Obama to the the President’s Commission for the Study of Bioethical Issues. In a discussion with this woman, who seemed at odds with some of his basic assumptions, he asked her if she could not agree that something as horrible as a “culture that ritually blinded every third child by literally plucking out his or her eyes at birth,” should be considered “a culture that was needlessly diminishing human well being?” She said it would depend on why they were doing it. He suggested she assume that it was being done because their religion mandated it. She said, "Then you could not automatically say that it was wrong."
By going through the credentials of most of the females on the President’s Commission for the Study of Bioethical Issues, I learned that the name of the lady to whom Harris referred is Nita A. Farahany. I don’t know what her philosophical biases are, but unlike Harris, whose naïve jaws dropped at the suggestion that something so horrible as ritual blinding could not be dismissed out of hand as an a priori example of the grosses evil, I tend to agree with Farahany, from an atheistic point of view. When belief in a transcendent moral code, upheld by the moral governor of the universe is subtracted from the equation, we are left with no real right or wrong with respect to anything. Self interest becomes god. Without the standard of right and wrong given to us in the ancient Scriptures and particularly illuminated by Jesus Christ, we are left to conclude that what Hitler did to the Jews might have been right or wrong. Who are we to say, and by what code?
With deference toward the "Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God," the writers of the Declaration of Independence held truths relative to the existence of God and his creation of mankind to be, as they put it, "self evident." Many today would disagree that such assumptions are self-evident. But if we reject the notion of a moral God of the universe, how can we condemn the actions that flow from motives of greed, lust, or racial prejudice, for example, wherever they may lead? Is it wrong for a man to think of his wife as an inferior being who has no rights except those he decides to give her or to believe he has a right to punish her as he deems necessary. Millions of people grow up in a culture where that is the norm. So is it wrong? Who says so? How can we know that the law of the jungle, “kill or be killed” should not be our highest moral precept?
Apart from God, and the revelation of His morality we have no basis for judging the actions of anyone no matter how heinous their actions appear to us. Who among us wants to live in such a world? Yet, only the notion of a transcendent, righteous God of the universe can deliver us from such a fate. No wonder Moses told the Israelites in Deuteronomy 4:6-8 concerning the laws God had given them which reflected God's righteousness:
He mentioned a conversation he once had with a woman after one of his lectures. He described her as one “who seemed, at first glance, to be very well-positioned to reason effectively about the implications of science for our understanding of morality.” He went on to say that she holds degrees in biology, genetics, and law from such schools as Dartmouth and Harvard. He said she was a recognized authority “on the intersection between criminal law, genetics, neuroscience and philosophy.” He also said she had subsequently been appointed by President Obama to the the President’s Commission for the Study of Bioethical Issues. In a discussion with this woman, who seemed at odds with some of his basic assumptions, he asked her if she could not agree that something as horrible as a “culture that ritually blinded every third child by literally plucking out his or her eyes at birth,” should be considered “a culture that was needlessly diminishing human well being?” She said it would depend on why they were doing it. He suggested she assume that it was being done because their religion mandated it. She said, "Then you could not automatically say that it was wrong."
By going through the credentials of most of the females on the President’s Commission for the Study of Bioethical Issues, I learned that the name of the lady to whom Harris referred is Nita A. Farahany. I don’t know what her philosophical biases are, but unlike Harris, whose naïve jaws dropped at the suggestion that something so horrible as ritual blinding could not be dismissed out of hand as an a priori example of the grosses evil, I tend to agree with Farahany, from an atheistic point of view. When belief in a transcendent moral code, upheld by the moral governor of the universe is subtracted from the equation, we are left with no real right or wrong with respect to anything. Self interest becomes god. Without the standard of right and wrong given to us in the ancient Scriptures and particularly illuminated by Jesus Christ, we are left to conclude that what Hitler did to the Jews might have been right or wrong. Who are we to say, and by what code?
With deference toward the "Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God," the writers of the Declaration of Independence held truths relative to the existence of God and his creation of mankind to be, as they put it, "self evident." Many today would disagree that such assumptions are self-evident. But if we reject the notion of a moral God of the universe, how can we condemn the actions that flow from motives of greed, lust, or racial prejudice, for example, wherever they may lead? Is it wrong for a man to think of his wife as an inferior being who has no rights except those he decides to give her or to believe he has a right to punish her as he deems necessary. Millions of people grow up in a culture where that is the norm. So is it wrong? Who says so? How can we know that the law of the jungle, “kill or be killed” should not be our highest moral precept?
Apart from God, and the revelation of His morality we have no basis for judging the actions of anyone no matter how heinous their actions appear to us. Who among us wants to live in such a world? Yet, only the notion of a transcendent, righteous God of the universe can deliver us from such a fate. No wonder Moses told the Israelites in Deuteronomy 4:6-8 concerning the laws God had given them which reflected God's righteousness:
Observe them carefully, for this will show your wisdom and understanding to the nations, who will hear about all these decrees and say, “Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.” ...And what other nation is so great as to have such righteous decrees and laws as this body of laws I am setting before you today?The religious leaders of Jesus’ day were right to question his authority. Everything turns on the matter of his authority to do and say the things he did and said. Who was he? How did he have the right to make the kind of sweeping statements he made about right and wrong? Jesus did not sidestep the issue. He repeatedly affirmed that his authority was from the Father, the God of the universe, from which he had come:
He who sent me is trustworthy, and what I have heard from him I tell the world. (John 8:26),
I do nothing on my own authority but speak thus as the Father taught me (John 8:28).It is intensely interesting that some atheists are now scrambling to establish some code of morality to replace that which their atheism has destroyed. Good luck asking Science for help with this problem.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Briefcase
I have a real weakness for beautiful briefcases. Of course, they must be made of genuine leather, not canvas or fabric, otherwise what’s the point? I might as well use a cardboard box. Unfortunately, most of the briefcases I'm drawn to are not suitable for me. I prefer the thin, classic, understated ones like a really important person might carry; one just large enough to hold something about the size of, say, a brief. Someone like the president or Donald Trump would probably never carry a briefcase at all, or even a pencil, for that matter. Like the person who carries a large ring of keys on his belt, a man sporting a huge briefcase probably has a great deal of responsibility, but maybe not as much prestige. Though each may unlock many doors or mysteries in the course of a day's work, neither will likely command the respect he deserves.
So, for that reason as well as because of simple aesthetics, I would prefer a sleek, refined, and graceful portfolio made for style and not for work. But I have to carry so many things in my case that it often looks more like an ocean liner trunk. I have to carry books, manuals, notebooks, folders, and files. I also usually need to take my laptop computer and its power supply, cables, and external drives, and maybe even a package of crackers or a sandwich, and then, of course, I will need a toothbrush and toothpaste. Carrying all of this stuff requires me to use a supersized briefcase with wheels. So then what I have is more of a cart than a case. No one would ever suspect me of being important while I am dragging such a rig around. They could possibly guess that I worked for an important person, but they would more likely mistake me for a homeless person pushing all my belongings around in a grocery cart.
My wife likes handbags but for a different reason. She is not as fastidious and vain as I am about their appearance. She wants them primarily for utility, and she usually carries about three of them with her. Actually I don’t mean she walks around with three pocketbooks on her arm. But when we leave home, she will often have the regular bag she is using that day, along with another one of a different style, and perhaps a tote or shopping bag. If I ask her why she is carrying so many pieces of luggage just to go the mall or to church, she explains that she is using a different purse today, and since some of her important things are in the bag she previously used, she must take both with her now so she can consolidate their contents. And if I ask about the tote or shopping bag she might say something like, “Oh, I have some things in there I must return because they didn’t work out,” or she will tell me they contain a gift she has for someone, or she might inform me that she included her camera, a more comfortable pair of shoes, or mountain climbing gear.
I’ve noticed over the years that both of us carry much more stuff than we used to. I don’t know if it's because of insecurity or being too tired to decide what we will really need, or if it’s because of over-learning the Boy Scout motto to "be prepared.” Our lives have become more complex now than they used to be, and we are involved in more projects and tasks, all of which require their share of mandatory materials and supplies. But it was a lot more fun when we used to just get in the car taking almost nothing with us.
Apart from God and His grace we all have a heavy load of luggage to carry around. The luggage I speak of now is in the form of sin and its consequent guilt. No matter how intent a person is on being good, the Bible says that apart from God, our “righteousness is as filthy rags.” (Isaiah 64:6) And no matter how hard we try to figure everything out and no matter how much we attempt to work our way toward God and achieve an understanding of ultimate reality, the Bible says there will be no genuine righteousness, no real understanding, and no productive seeking after God until we come to Him by faith. (Romans 3:10-11)
But being reconciled to God does not mean that we automatically leave all our old luggage behind. But becoming a Christian ensures that we now have a rational basis for dealing with sinful behavior. In fact, leaving the luggage behind is exactly how the Bible teaches us to deal with the old, ungodly patterns of conduct prevalent in the world's society and perhaps in our former life. Peter says, “For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry." (I Peter 4:3) The apostle doesn’t spend a lot of time talking about how to stop doing these things, he just says to stop doing them. Peter understood the damage this kind of behavior would do to a Christian’s life, and he also knew the power God gives believers to deal with sinful habits and lifestyles.
In Ephesians 4 Paul uses precisely the same approach. After explaining that we were created by God to do good (Ephesians 2:10), he says that all sinful behavior on the part of a Christian is a part of his past life or what he calls the old self and that we are to put it off or put it away. “You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Ephesians 4:22-24) From this same chapter we have the following list of behavior that we are told to simply put off or take out of our briefcase:
Anger (v. 26)
Stealing (v. 28)
Unwholesome speech (v. 29)
Bitterness (v. 31)
Rage (v. 31)
Brawling (v. 31)
Slander (v. 31)
Malice (v. 31)
To this list, Galatians 5:19 adds::
Hatred
Jealousy
Envy
Fits of rage
There are many other such catalogues of inappropriate behavior in the New Testament. In every case the prescription is always the same: Leave the old sinful behavior behind and begin developing a new life in Christ appropriate to the amazing change that has taken place in you. It was to this end that the apostle Paul in II Corinthians 5:17 said:
Old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.
It's encouraging to realize that though being a Christian doesn’t mean we can no longer lie, steal, or use unwholesome speech, it does mean we no longer have to. We are now exhorted to "lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and [to] run with endurance the race set before us" (Hebrews 12:1). We can only run the race God has marked out for us if we are willing to quit dragging around that oversize brifcase still stuffed, or weighted down, with sinful attitudes and patterns of behavior. These must be jettisoned to make room for the exciting new possiblities God wants to bring into our lives.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
A New Life
When my dad was a young man, he had a brother-in-law who owned a collection agency. They were friends though my uncle was a good deal older than my dad. One day my father ask my uncle exactly how the collection business worked. My uncle explained that some people who owed money would fail to pay it, and sometimes their creditors would turn the unpaid accounts over to a collection agency to collect the past due debt. And that was where he came in. He would try to collect some of those funds, and he made his money by getting to keep some of the money he collected. My dad, whose first name was Lollis, asked him how much of the money he got to keep, and my dad remembered his exact answer to that question many years later when he was telling me this story. My uncle looked straight at him and said, “Blooming near all of it, Lollis, blooming near all of it!”
It was only a few weeks or days after that encounter that my uncle disappeared. My Aunt Cora, his wife, never saw him again. After many years, it was assumed that he had deserted her or was dead. Their marriage was officially dissolved, and eventually she remarried and had a son. I knew him although he was a grown man who drove a moving van when I was just a child, and by that time my Aunt Cora’s second husband had died. When I was about ten or twelve years old, my aunt was notified by officials in New York that her first husband had been found dead. Apparently, for many long years he had operated something like a little pawn shop in the famous skid row district of New York City known as the Bowery. Though he apparently had never made any attempt to reconnect with anyone in his previous life, he had carried my aunt’s contact information with him all those years, and when he was found dead, she was the one they notified, and she was the one who made all his final arrangements.
The desire for a clean slate or for relief from the pressures of an overburdened life, whether those burdens are self-imposed or not, has caused many people to simply run away. Sometimes things seem so bad that some begin to prefer the unknown to the known. They crave a change, a fresh start. When my uncle ran away, it was pretty certain he was going to have a fresh start somewhere, and he chose to have it in the shadowy underground of New York City rather than in a prison.
Longings to evade the stresses of one's daily life can make a man or a woman an easy prey for an extramarital affair or for some type of addiction such as drugs or alcohol. Even an obsession with very legitimate pursuits such as collecting, body building, or an excessive interest in a particular sport can all be indications of a person’s attempt to escape his boring or threatening circumstances in order to find identity in a new life. Of course, these shallow activities do not satisfy the spiritual cravings of our soul. Only the Lord can do that.
For most of us, the desire for newness and freshness in our life can be slaked sufficiently with thoughts of vacations, holidays, or visions of retirement. Even an excursion to a mall, a movie, or a meal out is sometimes a way to bring some needed freshness into our lives, if only for a little while. We can temporarily leave our messes behind and go somewhere that is different or new and kind of “unmessy.” Sometimes getting out and seeing other people and doing something different can kind of clear our heads of all the clutter and maybe help us see things in a more positive light.
I was browsing in a office supply store once when a clerk ask if she could help me. I decided to have a little fun, and said, "Yes, actually I'm looking for something that will change my life." I could have continued by telling her that what I really wanted was what Arthur Sullivan called "The Lost Chord," the one that "links all perplexed meaning into one perfect peace." But long before I could have gotten all that out, she was gone, having decided, I suppose, that I needed far more profestional help than she could provide.
If anything in the universe is apparent, it is the fact that our loving Creator-God knew that we would often need a fresh start. We have days, weeks, months, and years, each of which offer us a clean slate of a sort. At the beginning of the year, we hear a lot about New Year’s resolutions. The New Year provides a natural partition between the past and the future, and it helps us with our need for newness in our life. Even the weekend provides a natural break between mini episodes of our life. We don’t have to wait for the New Year or even the weekend, however, because every new sunrise is, in a sense, a fresh page or a new beginning. As Lamentations 3:21-22 says, “It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.”
But the tour de force of newness is the new life we are given when we come to Christ. Paul said in II Corinthians 5:17 that if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: old things have passed away and all things have become new. Talk about a fresh start or a new beginning! Leaving home and family and starting over in New York doesn’t even compare to the new life we receive in Christ. This is a radical newness. Romans 6:4 says “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.”
In speaking of the potential of this new life, C. S. Lewis writes, “…remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.” Such is the newness of life to which we are called.
Our God is the God of new lives and new things. Through the prophet Isaiah God promises to do something new for the nation Israel in Babylonian captivity:
Forget the former things;
Do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up;
Do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert
and streams in the wasteland. (Isa. 43:18-19 NIV)
The provision that God makes for us is called the new covenant. In the upper room Jesus explained, “This is the new covenant in my blood.” In the Epistle to the Hebrews we are told that this new covenant involves God’s putting his laws or his thoughts into our minds so that we can be a new kind of people. (See Hebrews 10:16.) Paul urged the Ephesians to "put on the new man which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness." (Eph. 4:24) In the Psalms David affirms that God has put a new song in his mouth. What does that new song represent? New life.
During his earthly ministry Jesus was always giving people a new life:
In John 4, we read of Jesus telling the Samaritan woman whom he met at a well that he could give her water that would quench her deepest thirst forever. After having her eyes opened she went back to her village and told her friends, “He told me everything I ever did.” And the gospel record tells us that because of her testimony many of the Samaritans decided they wanted this new life and were converted to Christ.
In John 9, we learn of a man who was totally blind from birth being completely healed by Jesus. His healing at first was physical, but that was enough to cause this young man to know that there was something very different about this amazing Person, and it was with great boldness he stood up to those who opposed Jesus. He told these supposedly religious experts that it seemed very strange to him that they would know so little about a man who could heal a person’s eyesight who had been blind from birth. This made them very angry, and they belittled and insulted him and threw him out of the synagogue. Later Jesus returned to him and asked him if he believed on the “Son of Man,” a title he often used to emphasize his incarnate deity. The man said, “Tell me who he is so I can know him.” Jesus said, “You have seen him; it is I that speak to you.” Then this formerly blind man fell down and worshipped him.
Time and space prevent us from talking about the fresh, new start Jesus gave Nathaniel, Zacchaeus, Peter, Lazarus, and so many, many others. In fact, every person who met Jesus was given a new life if he or she wanted it. The offer was available to conceited, religious snobs like Nathaniel, rough fishermen like Peter, slick shysters like Matthew, educated, but still ignorant religious experts like Nicodemus, and rich rulers like the unnamed young man who asked Jesus how to inherit eternal life. We are told that Jesus, looking on him, loved him, but the rich young ruler turned away without getting in on this wonderful new life choosing, at least for the time being, to cling to his riches.
No matter how desperate or bored we might feel, may we always remember that the escape or adventure we seek cannot be found in the far country to which the prodigal son fled or to the bustling city where my uncle tried to lose himself and his past life. Our new start will not be found at a place but in a Person who makes all things new.
It was only a few weeks or days after that encounter that my uncle disappeared. My Aunt Cora, his wife, never saw him again. After many years, it was assumed that he had deserted her or was dead. Their marriage was officially dissolved, and eventually she remarried and had a son. I knew him although he was a grown man who drove a moving van when I was just a child, and by that time my Aunt Cora’s second husband had died. When I was about ten or twelve years old, my aunt was notified by officials in New York that her first husband had been found dead. Apparently, for many long years he had operated something like a little pawn shop in the famous skid row district of New York City known as the Bowery. Though he apparently had never made any attempt to reconnect with anyone in his previous life, he had carried my aunt’s contact information with him all those years, and when he was found dead, she was the one they notified, and she was the one who made all his final arrangements.
The desire for a clean slate or for relief from the pressures of an overburdened life, whether those burdens are self-imposed or not, has caused many people to simply run away. Sometimes things seem so bad that some begin to prefer the unknown to the known. They crave a change, a fresh start. When my uncle ran away, it was pretty certain he was going to have a fresh start somewhere, and he chose to have it in the shadowy underground of New York City rather than in a prison.
Longings to evade the stresses of one's daily life can make a man or a woman an easy prey for an extramarital affair or for some type of addiction such as drugs or alcohol. Even an obsession with very legitimate pursuits such as collecting, body building, or an excessive interest in a particular sport can all be indications of a person’s attempt to escape his boring or threatening circumstances in order to find identity in a new life. Of course, these shallow activities do not satisfy the spiritual cravings of our soul. Only the Lord can do that.
For most of us, the desire for newness and freshness in our life can be slaked sufficiently with thoughts of vacations, holidays, or visions of retirement. Even an excursion to a mall, a movie, or a meal out is sometimes a way to bring some needed freshness into our lives, if only for a little while. We can temporarily leave our messes behind and go somewhere that is different or new and kind of “unmessy.” Sometimes getting out and seeing other people and doing something different can kind of clear our heads of all the clutter and maybe help us see things in a more positive light.
I was browsing in a office supply store once when a clerk ask if she could help me. I decided to have a little fun, and said, "Yes, actually I'm looking for something that will change my life." I could have continued by telling her that what I really wanted was what Arthur Sullivan called "The Lost Chord," the one that "links all perplexed meaning into one perfect peace." But long before I could have gotten all that out, she was gone, having decided, I suppose, that I needed far more profestional help than she could provide.
If anything in the universe is apparent, it is the fact that our loving Creator-God knew that we would often need a fresh start. We have days, weeks, months, and years, each of which offer us a clean slate of a sort. At the beginning of the year, we hear a lot about New Year’s resolutions. The New Year provides a natural partition between the past and the future, and it helps us with our need for newness in our life. Even the weekend provides a natural break between mini episodes of our life. We don’t have to wait for the New Year or even the weekend, however, because every new sunrise is, in a sense, a fresh page or a new beginning. As Lamentations 3:21-22 says, “It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.”
But the tour de force of newness is the new life we are given when we come to Christ. Paul said in II Corinthians 5:17 that if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: old things have passed away and all things have become new. Talk about a fresh start or a new beginning! Leaving home and family and starting over in New York doesn’t even compare to the new life we receive in Christ. This is a radical newness. Romans 6:4 says “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.”
In speaking of the potential of this new life, C. S. Lewis writes, “…remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.” Such is the newness of life to which we are called.
Our God is the God of new lives and new things. Through the prophet Isaiah God promises to do something new for the nation Israel in Babylonian captivity:
Forget the former things;
Do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up;
Do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert
and streams in the wasteland. (Isa. 43:18-19 NIV)
The provision that God makes for us is called the new covenant. In the upper room Jesus explained, “This is the new covenant in my blood.” In the Epistle to the Hebrews we are told that this new covenant involves God’s putting his laws or his thoughts into our minds so that we can be a new kind of people. (See Hebrews 10:16.) Paul urged the Ephesians to "put on the new man which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness." (Eph. 4:24) In the Psalms David affirms that God has put a new song in his mouth. What does that new song represent? New life.
During his earthly ministry Jesus was always giving people a new life:
In John 4, we read of Jesus telling the Samaritan woman whom he met at a well that he could give her water that would quench her deepest thirst forever. After having her eyes opened she went back to her village and told her friends, “He told me everything I ever did.” And the gospel record tells us that because of her testimony many of the Samaritans decided they wanted this new life and were converted to Christ.
In John 9, we learn of a man who was totally blind from birth being completely healed by Jesus. His healing at first was physical, but that was enough to cause this young man to know that there was something very different about this amazing Person, and it was with great boldness he stood up to those who opposed Jesus. He told these supposedly religious experts that it seemed very strange to him that they would know so little about a man who could heal a person’s eyesight who had been blind from birth. This made them very angry, and they belittled and insulted him and threw him out of the synagogue. Later Jesus returned to him and asked him if he believed on the “Son of Man,” a title he often used to emphasize his incarnate deity. The man said, “Tell me who he is so I can know him.” Jesus said, “You have seen him; it is I that speak to you.” Then this formerly blind man fell down and worshipped him.
Time and space prevent us from talking about the fresh, new start Jesus gave Nathaniel, Zacchaeus, Peter, Lazarus, and so many, many others. In fact, every person who met Jesus was given a new life if he or she wanted it. The offer was available to conceited, religious snobs like Nathaniel, rough fishermen like Peter, slick shysters like Matthew, educated, but still ignorant religious experts like Nicodemus, and rich rulers like the unnamed young man who asked Jesus how to inherit eternal life. We are told that Jesus, looking on him, loved him, but the rich young ruler turned away without getting in on this wonderful new life choosing, at least for the time being, to cling to his riches.
No matter how desperate or bored we might feel, may we always remember that the escape or adventure we seek cannot be found in the far country to which the prodigal son fled or to the bustling city where my uncle tried to lose himself and his past life. Our new start will not be found at a place but in a Person who makes all things new.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The Road Not Taken
Today I'm thinking about the words of Robert Frost in his penetrating poem, "The Road Not Taken." When faced with a choice between two roads, which to him at the time seemed pretty equally desirable, he chose the one less traveled. But he did not completely abandon the other maintaining that he would keep it for another day. And then the terrible reality hit him, and he responded resolutely with those powerful but somber words, "Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back."
There are so many goodbyes and separations in life. There are so many ways that lead on to other ways, and there are so many, many people, extraordinary people in one way or another, who inevitably get left behind no matter how much we deplore that idea. Life is complex, and its paths are endless, but our ability to trace all of them out are finite. Thank the Lord for planes, phones, the postal service, text messages, and e-mails. But all the computers in the world could not enable us to remain in relationship with that throng of people we feel should be included in our circle.
As painful as it is to confront the doubt that there will be enough days in our life to return to this spot and explore that interesting person we left behind, we somehow have to make peace with it. It helps to remember that life has been constituted as it is by God. It is a limitation He has placed on us that will make it impossible to keep alive a relationship with every person we have ever known or even with every person who at one time or another has been important to us.
As in so many other areas of life, we must accept our limitations and strike a balance between quantity and quality. For example, if God has given us a spouse and/or children, it is more important to focus on them than it is to keep alive relationships with friends we met long ago. And even a person who has no close family ties is usually assigned, by God, to a relatively small group of friends in whose lives he can make a real difference if he concentrates his social energy on these people. The opposite of concentration is dilution. If we don't concentrate on these most important relationships which God has placed in our life, we run the risk of diluting our effectiveness with all our relationships. We are all aware and not impressed by the caricature of the salesman or politician who wants to know and be known by as many people as possible but whose relationships are mostly hollow and meaningless.
Like Frost, occasionally we may look back on some of the many roads not taken, or more appropriately here, on all the interesting and wonderful people who have drifted away. But knowing that our finiteness in these matters is a limitation God has imposed on us should prevent guilt. Most of our time should not be spent sadly and nostalgically looking backward on relationships which have been broken or interrupted for one reason or another but rather joyously walking or even skipping down the road taken. And besides, in heaven we will one day get to probe to the depths those relationships which life in this world has forced us to temporarily neglect.
There are so many goodbyes and separations in life. There are so many ways that lead on to other ways, and there are so many, many people, extraordinary people in one way or another, who inevitably get left behind no matter how much we deplore that idea. Life is complex, and its paths are endless, but our ability to trace all of them out are finite. Thank the Lord for planes, phones, the postal service, text messages, and e-mails. But all the computers in the world could not enable us to remain in relationship with that throng of people we feel should be included in our circle.
As painful as it is to confront the doubt that there will be enough days in our life to return to this spot and explore that interesting person we left behind, we somehow have to make peace with it. It helps to remember that life has been constituted as it is by God. It is a limitation He has placed on us that will make it impossible to keep alive a relationship with every person we have ever known or even with every person who at one time or another has been important to us.
As in so many other areas of life, we must accept our limitations and strike a balance between quantity and quality. For example, if God has given us a spouse and/or children, it is more important to focus on them than it is to keep alive relationships with friends we met long ago. And even a person who has no close family ties is usually assigned, by God, to a relatively small group of friends in whose lives he can make a real difference if he concentrates his social energy on these people. The opposite of concentration is dilution. If we don't concentrate on these most important relationships which God has placed in our life, we run the risk of diluting our effectiveness with all our relationships. We are all aware and not impressed by the caricature of the salesman or politician who wants to know and be known by as many people as possible but whose relationships are mostly hollow and meaningless.
Like Frost, occasionally we may look back on some of the many roads not taken, or more appropriately here, on all the interesting and wonderful people who have drifted away. But knowing that our finiteness in these matters is a limitation God has imposed on us should prevent guilt. Most of our time should not be spent sadly and nostalgically looking backward on relationships which have been broken or interrupted for one reason or another but rather joyously walking or even skipping down the road taken. And besides, in heaven we will one day get to probe to the depths those relationships which life in this world has forced us to temporarily neglect.
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