Evolution: Part III

[This blog post follows on the heels of Evolution: Part II]

A quick perusal of the first two postings in this blog show me (with greater or lesser persuasion) taking two parties to task.

In the first posting I took pure evolutionist to task — or, more to the point, anyone who fawningly hovers at the foot of that pedestal, thinking the theory of evolution (true or not) to be a principle to celebrated or given any honor to.

In the second posting I took conservative evangelical Christians to task — or, more to the point, anyone who fawningly and unquestioningly adheres to the (shall we say?) difficult position that Adam and Eve were the first two humans and sole ancestors of all who live today.

Having with two strokes alienated atheistic evolutionists and conservative Christians alike, it might be reasonably asked whom I have left to offend.

The answer is obvious.

Evolutionary Creationists.

Now it might have been assumed that I feel a great affinity for this group of souls. These are men and women who believe in God. Fellow Christians. Followers of Christ. And yet they are also scientists. People who appreciate scientific discoveries and accomplishments. These are people like Francis Collins, who (as the November 23rd Economist article "All about Adam" notes) is an "atheist-turned-Christian who directs the National Institutes of Health (NIH), the American government's biomedical research agency."

Surely these are the folk I agree with?

Well...

Not so fast.

Why the hesitancy? Well, let's read the words of that Economist editorial, describing an advocate of Evolutionary Creationism. "Mr Lamoureux is a prominent member of the 'evolutionary creation' movement, which credits God with creating Darwinian evolution and overseeing its workings (a view shared by, among others, the pope)."

So this is great. If I stand against this viewpoint, I'm aligned not merely in opposition to Francis Collins and Mr Lamoureux (whoever he is) but also the pope.

Well. There you have it.

But be that as it may, let's review what it is that they are supporting, and what I am in opposition to. What, exactly, is this Theory of Evolution?

Let's be real. I'm not a Ph.D in biology, so if I go beyond the briefest of details I will head into biological heresy no slower than a Sunday-School child would head into theological heresy when asked to define the Trinity.

So we'd better keep these words short!

But to the point. Evolution, as a theory and/or operating principle, holds to at least a minimum of the following notions, jumbled together: random mutation, survival of the fittest, and a competition to propagate.

Could there ever be an aggregation of principles more distinctly aligned against all that we have learned at the feet of Jesus?

Could there?

Random? REALLY? What exactly did God entrust to chance? Nothing on the grand scale, certainly, and some would argue nothing at all. Evolution purports to explain us. That's a rather important outcome. Did God leave that to chance too?

Survival of the fittest? REALLY? Is that what Jesus came to teach? Was he not the fittest of all? Did he not die sooner than many?

A competition to propagate? REALLY? Were we not taught by both Jesus and St. Paul that the greatest souls of all are those who die to self and live to serve others? Did either Jesus or Paul (with apologies to Dan Brown) leave any offspring?

I would love to know what exactly among the many driving assumptions of evolutionary biology are the ones that Christian advocates of Evolutionary Creationism think most closely describe the priorities and principles of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Which ones?

The editorial I keep quoting from the November 23rd edition of The Economist ends with a quotation from Paul Broun, a Georgia Republican who sits on the House science committee. Evolution, Mr Broun says, is a lie "straight from the pit of hell". As the Economist put it, "That's pandering. Not piety." And I agree.

But I would not disagree with anyone who said that using evolutionary theory to make personal moral decisions is a path leading (more than quickly) straight to hell. That I'd agree with. Emphatically.

Evolutionary theory supports the notion of cheating on your spouse. (If you can do so discretely.)

Evolutionary theory supports the notion of killing the children of neighborhood women. (If you can do so without getting caught. Then you can work on impregnating the women with children of your own. All on the sly, of course.)

Evolutionary theory supports the notion of [fill in the blank] provided it results in the propagation of your own genes.

Evolutionary theory is the veritable deification of self. Propagate yourself and let the rest of creation be damned. Hell on wheels. That, my friends, is the heart of the theory of evolution. And who, really, can argue that there is not a fair bit of that about. More than a bit.

Do my words sound extreme? Check the papers for the inner-city boyfriend who killed his girlfriend's toddler (a child sired by a prior boyfriend).

But is it what God Himself would have for us?

No. That's why the papers carry the story about the toddler's death. Evolutionary theory has something to say about why it happened. But our God-given consciences tell us why it should not have happened.

And that my friends is why I find myself (on this topic) at odds with atheists, conservative Christians and liberal Christians alike.

I will not stand as an Evolutionist and scorn Creationists.

I will not stand as a Creationist and scorn Evolutionists.

And finally, I will not stand as an Evolutionary Creationist either.

So those are three perspectives I do not hold. What, it may be asked, is the perspective I do hold?

I am a Creationist who sees Evolution at work in our world.

And it's been at work for a long time.

Evolutionary behavior is coincidentally enough, as old as the Fall.

Yes, I have come to believe that the Fall has a lot more to do with the first step taken in a "survival of the fittest" manner than with anything else.

I associate Evolution itself with the Fall. The deification of self is at the heart of both concepts.

I'm sure this perspective would prevent me from attending Wheaton College, let alone teaching there. This perspective also would prevent me from holding membership in most of the churches I might actually want to attend. (Ironically, the many churches that wouldn't mind this perspective a bit are the kind of churches I'd avoid like the plague.)

I do take comfort in the fact that Jesus himself never referred to Adam as a single soul, but that is small comfort. Can a man be more at risk than to seemingly be at odds with the words of St. Paul himself? By glossing the traditional view on Adam and Eve I seem to be in opposition to St. Paul's teachings as we interpret them today.

Perhaps I'm wildly mistaken. Deeply in error. Perhaps so.

Or perhaps five hundred years from now these words of mine will be as uncontroversial as the notion that planets circle the sun rather than it being the other way around.

We no longer feel we're opposing God's word when we acknowledge that the earth moves around the sun.

Perhaps one day this perspective on origins won't be widely viewed as opposition to God's word either.

In any case, when I am being honest, this is where I stand on the matter.

But let my final words on this topic cut to the core. The core is this: I trust that I serve a God who loves me and the historical Jesus who has saved me. God will forgive me, even if these views shared here reveal me to be misled and/or deceived. I need salvation more than I need a correct perspective on origins.

Evolution: Part II

[This blog post follows on the heels of Evolution: Part I]

In the first post of this series, I returned to some old articles from The Economist that got my mind racing a few years back.

One of the questions I found myself mulling over a great deal at the time is the question I posed at the end of that blog. "If Evolution were indeed a living and active being, should we call it a good one?" It's a question The Economist never really addresses directly, though I think it safe to say from the indirect evidence that writers over at The Economist are as troubled by the question as I am.

So you'd think from my opening words that I'm now going to tackle this question head on here in this posting. If so...

You'd be wrong!

This is a three-part series (I think?) and I believe that this key question is best left for last.

Here in Part II I hope instead to "get us up to speed" and cover the recent article from The Economist that got my mind racing on the same topic yet again.

Where to Begin?

A good one-page article can spark a number of conversations, and this one is a doozy. Titled "All about Adam" (November 23rd issue), this one touches on the sorts of topics that split churches and get professors at Christian colleges fired. As luck would have it, however, I'm neither a professor nor a pastor — so I have very little to lose by juggling hermeneutical hand grenades.

The article begins by noting a dramatic tension present in the contemporary Christian scene here in America. First, there is an affection for biblical inerrancy among huge swathes of the population... including many who don't darken the door of a church until a wedding or funeral forces their hand.

But that's among those who are middle-aged or older.

Among the youth of America affection for both the notion of inerrancy and, indeed, the church itself is rather more muted. As The Economist notes, fifty percent of the children from evangelical Christian homes abandon their faith after turning 18 years old.

[Don't read that sentence too quickly. Let it sink in.]

Why? Why are kids leaving church in droves after they grow up?

Well, probably not least because (as The Economist notes) a quarter of Christian youngsters view their church as an "anti-science" institution.

That would not be a problem, so to speak, if youngsters themselves did not trust science.

But they do. More than their pastors, at any rate.

And, quite frankly, I trust science too, though probably with a fair bit more reserve than the average 18-year-old. That's not to say that I think science is infallible! (Writers over at The Economist are no less naive. A recent article of theirs headlined just how fallible scientists can be!) No, I don't think science is infallible. Not at all. But I've been in churches long enough to know that pastors aren't either.

Well, a few hand-grenades have hit the floor already, but I'm only three paragraphs into the editorial! Where do we go from here?

Let's start with a few absolute truths all followers of Jesus should be able to agree upon:
1) Jesus is the head of his church, and
2) The Church of Christ will not fail.

I'd like to add one more item to that short list...

3) Historically speaking, there have been "hills we must die upon" that in hindsight proved to be quite the opposite.

Examples?

Oh, there are a few.

Looking into recent American history, we have the era preceding the Civil War, where Christians from the South (and North too) preached not only that slavery was acceptable, but that the mark placed upon Cain was that of a black skin.

What a wonderful way to justify the dehumanizing nature of the slave trade. What a salve this doctrine must have been for the consciences of those practicing Christians who perpetuated this horrific practice.

Need I say more?

But let's be clear about this.

This was not metaphorical hill. More than half a million "Christian" souls died in a very real way upon this very hill. A hill that few self-respecting (and no Christ-respecting) Christian would waste spit upon today.

Going back a bit further, there is the debacle involving Galileo. Learned leaders of the church set Galileo straight on the matter of which heavenly bodies were moving, and which were unmovingly firm.

What a relief to know we had good Christian leadership on that point.

Thank goodness the church stood firm on that doctrine.

(Or was it the people wearing infallible white collars who finally moved? Hmmmm.)

Is it not amazing how easily we move past the follies of the past ("Yeah, yeah, yeah... I get it. Right. Can we move on, now?") but by the same token cannot bear to scrutinize the follies of the present ("Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're wrong. And not a Christian. And a freaking moron to boot. Can we move on, now?").

Were a million evangelical Christians to view this blog today, at least half would be slightly (or more than slightly) irritated that I wasted their time reviewing this history that they already know about... history they do not dispute.

Not one thousand of them (if even that many) would want to reverse the results of the Civil War, and perhaps fewer still believe yet that the Earth is the center of the universe.

But how many will tolerate the thought of what I am about to say?

Few. Very few.

But I didn't come up with this stuff. I'm not the author of these claims. Scientists are. A flawed method? Yes. Of course! But in light of the church history we just reviewed, I would hope we were not looking for nor demanding greater perfection from science than we demanded from ourselves?

Ah well, I'm a fair ways into this reflection, and I've not yet touched upon the topic du jour... Prefatory words aside, it's time to hit the heart of this Economist editorial. It's time to cut to the chase.

Getting to the Point

The title of article ("All about Adam") does not mislead. The recent brouhaha is about Adam. Or lack of one, to state the case more accurately. As the article notes, genetic scientists insist that "modern humans, in their genetic diversity, cannot be descended from a single pair of individuals. Rather, there were at least several thousand 'first humans'."

Bombshell.

Bombshell?

Is it?

Can we be honest?

Without drawing swords?

Or must we re-enact the Civil War, defending the mark of Cain?

Come to think of it, the mark of Cain is a good starting point. Let's begin there.

And just to be sociable about it, let's assume that the creation narrative is, as they say, inerrantly true.

Yes. The doctrine that is causing such frustration amongst our (yes, our) children.

So... that mark. It's not that he's been made black. No. We're enlightened enough to know that being African is not a crime. Nor the mark of a former crime.

Why did God give him that mark? Because Cain is afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid that those who find him will kill him. What people might Cain be referring to? Well, if we're inerrantists, there is exactly one answer. His brothers and perhaps nephews. [Editorial note: the scriptures don't say that Cain is afraid of his siblings. We do.]

So what happens next? Cain gets married.

And has a son.

So.... Who did Cain marry?

Oh.... Yes.... There is an answer for that one, too.

(Does it echo the mark of Cain? A little too convenient?)

Yes, Cain married his sister. Apparently this would be a sister disinclined to kill him for murdering her brother Abel. Willing to marry Cain instead? Or was this an arranged marriage? Did Adam and Eve think it up? [Editorial note: the scriptures don't say that Cain married his sister. We do.]

And somehow... it was OK. Incest in this special case was just A-OK.

Incest with the brother who killed your brother.

Nice package.

Why?

Because conservative Christians of this century are committed to a doctrine which dictates that no other female humans existed on earth (Eve excluded) except Cain's sisters.

It's our version of the Civil War era mark of Cain. A convenient package. One that won't hold up for another hundred years.

Incest? With a brother who killed your brother? But we're Americans. So (as anyone who watches our entertainment will know) we're more concerned with sex than we are with violence.

[Truth be told, I do not recall in all my life a single soul ever questioning why Cain's sister would willingly marry the man who murdered her own peace-loving brother Abel. That's an interesting... and damning... thought, all by itself. We were curious about the sex, but we didn't think twice about the violence. Be that as it may....]

Moving on. Cain's wife. Conservative Christians do not like to speak of it as incest. Not incest proper, at any rate. A brief review on the internet confirms there is a clever "mark of Cain" story all ready to remedy this problem. It goes like this: the gene line was pure at that point, so sex with your sister won't produce kids with three legs.

Problem solved.

The breathtaking, breathtaking, breathtaking Christian hypocrisy.

One might as well argue that with the advent of condoms and birth control we should no longer be uptight about extra-marital affairs because there is no longer a real concern of adulterating gene lines. All we have to do is make sure no conception does not take place, right? After all, that's the main issue with adultery. That's where the word adultery got its name.

No church propagating this story about Cain and his sister would tolerate this line of reasoning where adultery is concerned. Why then is the incest situation between Cain and his sister suddenly "only about the genes?"

Isn't it remarkable how Christians sometimes become scientists... and bloody awful ones at that... the notion that Adam and Eve had "pure" genes is a schlopped together conspiratory-theory-worthy howler... but I digress. [Editorial note: the scriptures don't talk about genes. We do.]

Isn't it remarkable how Christians sometimes become "scientists" when they think it will serve their anti-science biblical agenda? Some paradoxes are beautiful. This one is ugly.

Yes, I scorn this incestuous theory. But I don't only scorn it. I grieve over it too. Men and women I love dearly believe this stuff. Their descendants will not. As surely as 150 years have cleared the church of a love for slavery, another century (should the Lord tarry that long) will cleanse Cain of the guilt of incest and restore him to his proper place as the world's first murderer, not the world's first sexual deviant.

But we're not done with Cain just yet. What did Cain do next, after marrying his sister and committing incest with her?

He built a city.

A city? Yes, a city.

For whom? Well, inerrancy requires that he built it for his siblings.

For siblings? The ones he was afraid would kill him?

For his descendants. His descendants??? So... He just started building a city.... for people who hadn't been born yet?

Hmmmmm. [Editorial note: the scriptures don't say Cain built a city for his siblings, children and/or shirt-tail relatives. We do.]

Question.

At what point do we acknowledge that the "Adam and Eve only" narrative doesn't work so hot? Not just for science. It doesn't even work very well with Genesis itself. The Genesis account is fine. It's God's word for us, and all we need to know (from a biblical perspective) about origins is in it. But how we've chosen to read it is not holding up so well.

When will we as Christians be free to say that?

100 years from now?

At what point do we acknowledge that just maybe we have to bend not only God's own laws (about incest, for starters) but also all boundaries of reason in order to accommodate the notion that Adam and Eve were the only two humans on earth when it all began.

When?

Isn't it remarkable how quickly we would ask our forebears to turn their back on Bible-sanctioned hatred for Africans? And we scorn their failure to have done so.

But yet we cling to instances of Bible-sanctioned incest? To support a scientific claim we rammed into the book of Genesis? And we expect our children to toe the line?

Strange, isn't it? We're like the Pharisees Jesus condemned. We hold ancestors to account for the same crimes we perpetuate today.

Moving on. The Economist notes, "Academics have lost jobs over the Adam controversy. Many Christian universities, among them Wheaton College (a sort of evangelical Harvard and Yale, rolled into one), oblige faculty members to sign faith statements declaring that God directly created Adam and Eve, the 'historical parents of the entire human race.'"

As an alumnus of Wheaton College I can honestly say that it's amazing what I was able to agree to in writing twenty years ago when I signed that pledge myself.

This series is continued in Evolution: Part III

Evolution: Part I

When I began my blog back in 2009, I had this blog post (and a few others) in mind. It's more than a bit ironic, then, that it's only now (four years later) that I get around to posting it.

So what finally got me moving? It was The Economist on the first pass, so fittingly it is The Economist on the 2nd pass too.

But let us not let bygones be bygones. Let us begin with the first pass.

So the first pass is what follows. A reflection I wrote after reading one too many articles from The Economist that danced around the topic of evolution. This will surely turn out to be my longest posting to date. I hope it reads OK in blog format.


Confusion

“Half all Americans either don’t know or don’t believe that living creatures evolved.” So begins an article on page 38 of the October 8th, 2005 issue of The Economist, a widely respected British news magazine read by movers and shakers around the world. The article continues with its trajectory of scorn in the sentences which follow. “And now a Pennsylvania school board is trying to keep its pupils ignorant. It is the kind of story about America that makes secular Europeans chortle smugly… Yet it is more complex than it appears.”

Indeed it is! For if we but flip a few pages forward, we discover on page 92 an Economist review of a book titled “The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists.” In this book the author relates his personal story – how he successfully transformed himself from a “wretchedly chaste” college student into a remarkably successful practitioner of one-night stands. But the victory was hollow, as the book reviewer soberly notes.

The game giveth, but it also taketh away, as the author is all too aware. As reality blurs, Mr Strauss finds it increasingly hard to view women as anything other than targets on which to hone his technique. “We may have been supermen in the club”, he muses, “but on the inside we were rotting.” Redemption comes in the form of Lisa, who cares not a fig for Mr Strauss’ patter. Lisa loves him, it turns out, for himself.

These two articles from the same edition of one magazine ought to give us pause. On page 38 not only is evolution presented to readers as true, but the acceptance of its truth is presented as a sign of great learnedness and wisdom. On the flip side, failure to accept the claims of evolution as true is cause for derisory laughter from around the globe.

Yet on page 92 the story line has somehow reversed course. One of Darwin’s finest has dropped out of the race, our Economist book reviewer warmly reports. Having finally mastered the art of passing his genes to different women every night, this man abandoned the game in order to focus his affections on only one woman. The Economist reviewer clearly approves! We are invited to celebrate the redemption, no less, of Mr. Strauss from what appears on the face of it to be a superbly perfected pattern of Darwinian behavior. Redemption? Isn’t that a religious word? What indeed is going on here?

The simple conclusion, if we take the time to review these two articles closely, is that the writers of The Economist are of two minds – and it’s not clear at all that they are aware of it. In areas of science, the editors of the Economist are careful to present evolution as a fact – a fundamental truth. Evolution, we are assured, is indisputably what is. However when forced to address matters a bit closer to the heart, as it were, the editors of this same magazine are equally careful to assert that evolution is not at all it’s cracked up to be. Whatever evolution is, it is not what ought to be. I don’t think any other conclusion makes sense.

Just to clarify my meaning here, let me suggest how the review should have gone if the book reviewer believed not only that evolution is but also that it ought to be. In this hypothetical world, I believe the book reviewer would have found fault with Mr Strauss for thinking of women as anything more than vehicles for the propagation of his genes. According to basic evolutionary theory, members of the opposite sex are targets. The reviewer would furthermore have been deeply puzzled by Mr Strauss’ bizarre decision to cease the endless bagging of anonymous women. Males are supposed to do that. Finally, the reviewer would have been in a state of utter confusion as to why Mr Strauss felt like he was rotting inside. Words like that are unscientific and, worse still, they make no sense at all in the context of a wildly successful reproductive lifestyle.

So the writers of the Economist are clearly of two minds, and it seems to me that they are not at all sure what to do about it. The example provided above, by the way, is not at all unique or unusual. Conflicting perspectives of this sort are to be found on a regular basis in the pages of the Economist. A year later, for example, The Economist closed a different article on sexual selection with these words:

Evolution has thus arranged things so that if a woman does cuckold her man, she is likely to gain the maximum advantage in terms of children with good immune systems, and sons who will have similarly rakish good looks and behavior. Just don’t tell your husband that. (Page 75, March 4th 2006 issue.)

Once again, we see in close proximity two conflicting threads of thought. On the one hand, we see a rather bold proclamation of an evolutionary fact. On the other hand, we see a tacit, if weakly humorous, acknowledgement of the moral need to keep this fact a secret. Let us put the joking aside and ask a serious question: If this is evolutionary factoid really is in some sense true, why on earth would it be best, for ethical reasons, to keep it a secret? The Economist offers no answers. Indeed, I suspect they were afraid to ask the question.

But before we move on, there is one more thing worthy of note. In this text we find Evolution personified. It is treated as a rational force or being. Leaving aside the fact that this will be defended as a literary invention, it is still worth asking one more question in this regard. If Evolution were indeed a living and active being, should we call it a good one? It’s a rather important question. Whether or not we wish to be redeemed from it, needless to say, hinges crucially on this point. Here too, however, The Economist is silent.

This series is continued in Evolution: Part II

Lessons On Theology From Driving Miss Daisy

I didn't particularly want to do it.

It wasn't a great trial I was facing. Just wasted time, in my estimation. The person with whom I'd be wasting that time wouldn't profit greatly from our shared activity.

At least, I didn't think so.

"So... why I am I going to waste my time in this way?" I asked myself from time to time. After I tired of asking myself this question, I asked God the same question, just for a change of pace.

God surprised me with an answer.

Footage from a fabulous old movie began to play in my head. I could hear the movie projector creaking into motion. (Actually, I couldn't, but it sounds cool to say it that way!)

In the movie, Driving Miss Daisy, A well-to-do businessman (named Boolie) pays an elderly gentlemen (named Hoke) to drive the businessman's mother (Daisy) around town. The challenge lies in the fact that the elderly woman, who is too old to be driving, does not want any help, thank you very much.

Miss Daisy doesn't want a chauffeur.

But hers is not the opinion that matters. Daisy is no longer safe behind the wheel, and her son Boolie is trying to keep her (and pedestrians) safe by hiring Hoke to drive her where she needs to go.

Thus begins the footage that played out in my mind...

Boolie: Hoke, I want you to understand something. Now, you'd be working for me. She can say anything she likes, but she can't fire you. You understand?
Hoke: Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I sure do. And, don't you worry about a thing, Mr. Werthan! I'm gonna hold on no matter how she run me. You see, I used to rassle hogs down yonder in Macon, and, let me tell you, ain't no hog got away from me yet!

I know why this particular movie scene came to mind, but the movie scene itself wasn't God's answer. God's answer was much shorter and to the point.

When I asked God why I should waste my time on the pointless activity, His gentle voice broke cleanly into my thoughts...

It's not your time. It's my time. And you're working for me.

As soon as the words had passed through my head, I understood my error. It's God's prerogative to decide what constitutes a waste of my time.

I chuckled as I pictured myself sitting across from God's desk, being given a task which involved serving someone who would not value my service.

I chuckled some more as I imagined my response.

Pilgrim: Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Don't you worry about a thing, Lord...

I'm not sure, but I think God smiled back at me from across his desk.

The Bravest Person I Know

It was only few days ago that I tossed out a reflection centering on Psalms 37 and 73.

As is my wont, I kept regurgitating it in my thoughts even after it was written and done.

Within 24 hours I knew I had left something out.

The hardest part.

It's bad enough when there are bad guys. The problem of wicked men. I had focused on this for the most part while pondering these two Psalms.

But I knew within a day that I'd left the hardest, cruelest cut out of the picture.

The problem when there is no bad guy to blame.

Sickness. Natural disasters. When things just go wrong for no particular reason. The wrong turn that puts a vulnerable car in front of a speeding 18-wheeler.

This didn't sit well with me, and I thought perhaps it would be worth revisiting the matter. But I wasn't in a hurry. Why would I be?

That was Tuesday.

Last night, Friday night, just three days later, I got a call at around 9PM. The night's winding down. Who's calling now?

Just the bravest woman in my world.

Joan, I'll call her.

Apologizing. Apologetic. So sorry. So sad to intrude. So hesitant to ruin my evening with the uninvited bombshell news that her brain tumor had returned. Would I be interested to meet with her and a few friends on Saturday morning, seeing as she was going under the knife again on Wednesday?

We both knew the reality. This might be the best chance we'll ever have to chat again freely and easily. I told her there was no way I'd miss it.

Thus it was that I met an old friend again today. The bravest woman in my world.

You would think that we had gathered for her birthday. You would think we had gathered to celebrate.

During our long phone call the night prior, she could have been mistaken for a counselor checking in on a patient. How was my wife? How are our children? How have we been? She wanted to know that we were all well.

Now we were with our dear Joan in person. And she was more of the same. Full of smiles. Reflecting love. Caring. Facing a timeline not of her choosing.

"We all know of righteous souls whose lives were cut short, ending in heart-wrenching tragedy."

I wrote those words on Tuesday. Was it just four days ago? Four days? And here before me, in living color, is a righteous and good woman facing a personal tragedy whose dimensions I cannot begin to empathize with. I don't have a clue what she's feeling. A woman who has the right to ask God a few questions.

Psalm 37: (excerpted)
Take delight in the Lord,
   and he will give you the desires of your heart.
The blameless spend their days under the Lord’s care,
   and their inheritance will endure for ever.
In times of disaster they will not wither;
   in days of famine they will enjoy plenty.
Turn from evil and do good;
   then you will dwell in the land forever.
For the Lord loves the just
   and will not forsake his faithful ones.
The righteous will inherit the land
   and dwell in it for ever.

Joan has a right to ask God what exactly He meant by those promises. I don't yet, but Joan does. Now.

And yet Joan seems to have chosen a different route. She's focusing on being thankful for what she does have. Focusing on the continuing love she has for those around her.

It's not like Joan doesn't have a care in the world. Not at all the case that she's not lost in the confusion of why she must walk through this valley. She does wonder. She is worried. She is troubled. But she's still the bravest soul I know. In the midst of it all, she trusts God to sort it out in the end.

That's pretty much what David and Asaph (authors of Psalms 37 and 73, respectively) were saying too. Does it seem like some of their assurances are not holding true for Joan? Like she's not exactly getting the package David and Asaph seemed to be promising? Who can argue otherwise.

And yet. And yet. Joan is practicing what they preached.

And she has a joy that is not to be found in the faces of those who have no hope. Not to be found in the faces of those who trust in science alone to deliver the answers to the big questions.

Scientists like to point out that at the center of every galaxy is a huge black hole. And they're probably right.

But Joan knows that at the center of the universe is Jesus Christ.

Therein lies the difference.

Does she have all the answers? No.

But Joan knows the secret. And the secret is this: Keep your eyes on God, no matter what.

She's the bravest person I know.

Hebrews 12:1b-2a
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

37 vs 73

Psalm 37 is very beautiful.

But when I'm honest, it's not entirely convincing.

What do I mean? Here's an example...

Psalm 37:10-11
A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
   though you look for them, they will not be found.
But the meek will inherit the land
   and enjoy peace and prosperity.

These are comforting words when left unexamined, but they are harder to swallow when put under the glare of a spotlight.

Everyone knows there are wicked people out there who seem to live long, and live large. Not to say we'd want their lives. I wouldn't trade. But it's not like such people are hard to find. Some of these sorry souls have serious longevity! What's worse, we all know of righteous souls whose lives were cut short, ending in heart-wrenching tragedy.

So... what am I to make of Psalm 37 and its claims? If I'm honest, I must admit that sometimes it seems that the opposite is true.

Psalm 73 to the rescue. Flip the digits around and you have the story turned around too. (I confess I'm always pleased by mathematical parallels...)

Psalm 73:3-14
For I envied the arrogant
   when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.
They have no struggles;
   their bodies are healthy and strong.
They are free from common human burdens;
   they are not plagued by human ills.
Therefore pride is their necklace;
   they clothe themselves with violence.
From their callous hearts comes iniquity;
   their evil imaginations have no limits.
They scoff, and speak with malice;
   with arrogance they threaten oppression.
Their mouths lay claim to heaven,
   and their tongues take possession of the earth.
Therefore their people turn to them
   and drink up waters in abundance.
They say, ‘How would God know?
   Does the Most High know anything?’
This is what the wicked are like –
   always free of care, they go on amassing wealth.
Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure
   and have washed my hands in innocence.
All day long I have been afflicted,
   and every morning brings new punishments.

So... this just in. I'm not the first person to struggle with "the party line" that is sometimes evident in the Psalms and elsewhere in scriptures. Asaph (the author of Psalm 73) lays it out on the table: he too grapples with the struggle of doubt that sometimes besets us all.

[Sidebar comment: As Christians, we are sometimes afraid to question aloud anything that the Bible says. It's God's holy inspired word. Will our honest questions undermine the faith of those around us? Most endearingly, Asaph shares our fears. In the next verse he notes...]

Psalm 73:15
If I had spoken out like that,
   I would have betrayed your children.

So let us revel in this paradox: A Psalmist in holy scriptures who is afraid lest he contradict... holy scriptures. And another paradox. If? Asaph did speak out like that. It's all there in the Psalm! Very funny, in a quirky way.

But moving on. What happens next? The wicked are not supposed to prosper... but they do. Does Asaph escape this conundrum? He does. Let's read on.

Psalm 73:16-17
When I tried to understand all this,
   it troubled me deeply...
till I entered the sanctuary of God;
   then I understood their final destiny.

In the verses that follow, Asaph reverts to the assurances of Psalm 37. The judgment of the wicked will come suddenly. But note that he doesn't say when!

Perhaps Asaph is suggesting that we put our stopwatches and our eyeballs to better uses.

Paradoxically, the ultimate solution to the mysteries surrounding wicked men seems to center around focusing our attention instead upon our good God:

Psalm 73:23-28
Yet I am always with you;
   you hold me by my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
   and afterwards you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
   And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
   but God is the strength of my heart
   and my portion forever.
Those who are far from you will perish;
   you destroy all who are unfaithful to you.
But as for me, it is good to be near God.
   I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge;
   I will tell of all your deeds.

My heart resonates ever so strongly with these words.

The wicked perplex us... Sometimes they last a long time... Sometimes the assurances of Psalm 37 seem hollow...

But along with Asaph I find my peace in turning away from the wicked and toward God's sanctuary.

Perhaps we should not be surprised that David, author of Psalm 37, begins with this same advice.

Psalm 37:1-4
Do not fret because of those who are evil
   or be envious of those who do wrong...

What do we do instead?

Psalm 37:4
Take delight in the Lord
   and he will give you the desires of your heart.

These two Psalms turn out not to be so different after all. They offer the same exact advice.

First, turn away from the wicked. Pay them no heed. (Once you do, the timing of their eventual judgement will cease to occupy your thoughts!)

Second, focus on God. Seek God. There alone will we find true peace.

And when life here is ended? We'll stand alongside Asaph. And David. In God's presence. In his sanctuary.

That's a good way live. That's a good way to die. And that's a good way to live again.

Careful What You Grasp For

"You've been grasping for the wrong person's attention, Pilgrim."

I spoke these words to myself a few days ago, but it could equally have been the voice of God speaking to me.

Over the prior week I had engaged myself in an exercise which had the potential to gain me praise and admiration from other people.

The time spent in this exercise came largely from the more solitary moments of my day... from times when I would normally have been fellowship with God. Prayer had gone out the window during that time span.

It was only in the pause after I finally had everything ready that I gave greater heed to the voices of caution in my head.

They had been speaking all along. Asking me what I was after.

The results of my labors might have raised my reputation a bit... but at the cost of dinging someone else's reputation by the same amount.

The good advice of a good friend came rumbling though my head...
A question to ask yourself before entering into a conflict...

"What is it that you hope to gain from this exchange?"

I had no good answer to the question.

That's when I began to ponder what it was I had been grasping for, and why, and at what cost.

I had been grasping for the attention of strangers. To gain recognition at someone else's expense. At the cost of my grip on God and lost prayer time.

Not a good exchange, and I knew it. So I dropped the project.

That was where I left it a few days ago, but then this morning in two different devotionals I happened to flip through I ran (twice) into a reminder of the only verse in scripture where we're told what exactly Jesus himself grasped.

Or did not grasp, to be more specific.

Philippians 2:6-8
Who, being in very nature God,
   did not consider equality with God something to be grasped
rather, he made himself nothing
   by taking the very nature of a servant,
   being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
   he humbled himself
   by becoming obedient to death—
   even death on a cross!

Ouch.

I, a mere man, had been seeking to become something.

Jesus, God himself, sought to become nothing.

The passage preceding these verses only added salt to the wound.

Philippians 2:5
In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

But note the verses following the passage.

Philippians 2:9-11
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
   and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
   in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
   to the glory of God the Father!

God is a God of ironies and paradoxes indeed.

I had been seeking significance, and it wasn't a good thing.

But Jesus had his eye on even greater significance, and it was good.

The difference is that that Jesus was willing to become the ultimate servant and to die on a cross in order to reach his goal.

I had not been engaged in that game.

Legendary golfer Bobby Jones said of Jack Nicklaus (after watching Nicklaus win the 1965 Masters) that he "played a game with which I am not familiar."

I might say the same of Jesus.

But if I'm after significance, it's encouraging to know that Jesus was too. The question that remains is...

Am I willing to get familiar with the game Jesus played?

Wanted, But Not Needed

Needed, but not wanted
Despair marks the spot
Stripped of our value
We know we're not sought

Needed, but not wanted
Better than nothing at all
Perhaps not by much
Or perhaps not at all

Needed, but not wanted
We have something to give
But ourselves we must keep
And alone we must live

Wanted, but not needed
Not for talent nor wealth
Nor beauty of youth
Things that time steals by stealth

Wanted, but not needed
Inmost being so cherished
That when all else is gone
Our value's not perished

Wanted, but not needed
Full joy without measure
When in God we discover
One who grants us this pleasure

Wanted, but not needed
God can well do without
Yet he wants all the same
He still seeks us out

Wanted, but not needed
This God does enthrall
He tirelessly seeks us
Without needing us at all

Thought For Food

Some trade-offs are sensible.
Not the off trades we've made.
Purchasing vanishing vapor
for the real things we gave.

The terms of the barter
are ever so clear.
We receive our addictions
in exchange for things dear.

Anesthetized well,
we don't see what we've lost.
Unaware to the end
of what it will cost.

Real flesh for an image,
Marriage bed for a bust.
We trade people for porn,
Seasoned love for streamed lust.

We don't want what is real
much preferring the dream.
We want only the sugar
not the health food between.

TV and no exercise...
we prefer the glazed gaze,
leaving sweating to those
who by commercials are paid.

These habits don't leave us
when we enter the church.
We expect the same deal there,
leaving Christ in the lurch.

We seek sermons that tickle
and worship that throbs,
but avoid all hard service,
giving pastors those jobs.

The church seasons we've tossed
but we still keep the feast;
greedy to own all the pleasures,
glad to rent apostles' grief.

Their grief turned to joy
to grief has returned.
Heaven sees what we do,
what we think we have learned.

"Let's gather to celebrate!
Jesus vanquished the tomb!
And because the deed's done
we can stay in our womb.

The great Houdini Jesus
has freed us from the law.
Now we can sit back
and suck life from a straw."

Black holes cased in flesh
we miss the mystery of sin.
We keep endlessly taking,
filling nothing within.

Taking cue from the prodigal
we seek only to feast.
We're consumed by consumption,
turned to dough without yeast.

We are blind how this grade
to our tomb gives us pull.
Wonder why we're so empty
with stomachs so full.

Like cows on conveyor belts
who never quite lived
we consume to our end
unaware what we'll give.

Consumed by consumer gods
at whose shrines we were served.
Thought ourselves the consumers
right up to the last curve.

Mandelbrot Jesus

I was reading an excellent biography on Dietrich Bonhoeffer last night and went to bed having discovered that back in the 1930s he practiced something known today as lectio divina.

Lectio divina involves taking a small portion of scripture (perhaps only a single verse) and spending a lot of time digesting it and reflecting on it.

If you google the phrase lectio divina, you'll find about 1.5 million web pages that mention it. Hardly novel stuff, right? But back in the 1930s this practice was not only weird, but scary weird. Bonhoeffer's good friend and world-class theologian Karl Barth wrote him a letter expressing great concern over what Bonhoeffer was doing, teaching his students this practice!

Which goes to show that even world-class theologians don't have a lock on the truth.

Thankfully Bonhoeffer trusted the scriptures to do their work and did not give in to outside pressures pushing him to abandon the practice.

But all that is prelude.

This morning I woke up and thought, "I'll stare at.... at... 1 Peter 1:19. For at least five minutes. And see what happens."

I had no idea what the verse would say. I had randomly picked the reference out of the dark airs surrounding my bed.

So here it is:

1 Peter 1:19 ...but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.

Wow. Not a lot to work with. Not even a complete sentence! So I did cheat a bit and read the surrounding text too! But I focused on the verse itself, and after a bit a new idea began to form.

It had been brought to my attention once that, when Jesus entered Jerusalem for the last week of his earthly life, God was playing out a new version of the Passover. Note God's instructions to the Israelites, given just before the first Passover in Egypt.

Exodus 12:1-6 (excerpted) The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in Egypt, "...Tell the whole community of Israel that on the tenth day of this month each man is to take a lamb for his family, one for each household. ... The animals you choose must be year-old males without defect ... Take care of them until the fourteenth day of the month, when all the members of the community of Israel must slaughter them at twilight."

Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. I'm not good at ancient calendars, but it's my understanding that it would have been on this very day that Jews through Israel were bringing lambs into their homes. For inspection.

Jerusalem was, for the Jews, quite literally "the city of God," so it's no stretch of words to say that on Palm Sunday God brought Jesus into his own home. For inspection.

If Palm Sunday was the 10th day of the month, the 14th day would have been Thursday/Friday. (New days begin at dusk by Jewish reckoning.) So on the very night that Jews were eating their slaughtered lambs, Jesus celebrated the Last Supper with his disciples. A Passover meal. And a few hours later Jesus himself was slaughtered. A sacrificial lamb.

So as I read 1 Peter 1:19, it was clear what Peter meant when he chose those words. In the prior verse Peter begins the sentence by saying that we were not redeemed with silver or gold but rather with... the Passover lamb.

So I began to reflect on God's sense of overlap. What we have covered here is not unusual. God clearly likes to echo and prefigure past and future events, respectively. It'd be a distraction to list them all, but there are many well-known examples of this sort of thing to be found in the Bible.

If anyone wants to know God's next big move, rest assured it's already on display before us. Some version of the future has already been played out in miniature before our very eyes.

So the last week of Jesus' life was a reenactment of the Passover, taken to a whole new level.

On display for a week in Jerusalem, God's city. Examined. Sacrificed.

Were there any other things like this?

Well, in a sense, it could also be said that Jesus' whole life was also a reenactment of the Passover redemption.

On display for 30 years in Israel, God's nation. Examined. Sacrificed.

Ok. Did the pattern bear any further repetition?

And then the thought struck me.

We, the Church, are also an embodiment of Jesus Christ. We carry on his very work, carry his name, and we too have been brought forth, brought into a home that is not our normal abode.

Are we also an even larger scale re-enactment of the Passover? If so, this is a sobering thought.

On display for an era on Earth, God's planet. Examined. Sacrificed.

No, it's not entirely a pleasant thought, but it does fit the tenor of the New Testament, with no due respect to televangelists and Prosperity Gospel proponents.

Are we, the Church, on an extended Passover display? Is this the "week" before a time of persecution the scale of which has never been seen before? (If so, this is bad news for pre-Trib rapture enthusiasts.)

But I'm not here to argue end-time scheduling.

I'm just reflecting on Mandelbrot Jesus.

These reflections may not stand closer examination, and the end is in God's hands. But as for the rest, the pattern fits. There are many verses to support the notion. For example:

Romans 12:1 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God...

So the notion of us, the Church, being sacrificial materials is not at all foreign to the New Testament, however strange it may appear to modern eyes. It's all there, for those with eyes to see.

Yes, we have been brought forth on Earth. We are in a home that is not our own. And we are being examined. Peter said as much himself, just two verses earlier...

1 Peter 1:17 "Since you call on a Father who judges each person's work impartially, live out your times as foreigners here in reverent fear.

A Feast! And Only Half the Dishes are Poisoned!

In our home we celebrate "non-digital" Sundays. This generally means no iPads, no iPods, no computers... but it also means no TV. Since we pretty much never watch any TV anyway, this last exclusion is of little consequence to anyone in the family.

Yesterday, however, was Superbowl Sunday.

Should we make an exception?

Sure.

So we turned on the TV at some point a bit before half-time just to see where things were at. Maybe catch a funny commercial or two?

But as we turned the TV on, a recurring concern surfaced yet again in my thoughts. "What else might we see?"

At first, things went well enough. As the TV powered up we found ourselves watching a bit of footage involving an elderly fellow with a cane demonstrated some nifty skateboarding tricks in front of some ogling young teen boys. Cute.

The next footage was just goofy. Some old dude with a pool stick shooting Hellman's mayonnaise off a display stack and onto the floor in a supermarket. "Corner pocket!" he declared. Time to change channels and find that game.

Next channel was on commercial break. Gyrating scantily clad women danced next to a car... Hmm... My four young children (and one boy not young enough!) are staring at the screen. Time to change channels. Fast!

Next channel was also on commercial break too... I think? Hard to say. All I know is that the old lady was in a driveway explaining with a gleam in her eye that she never went anywhere without (and I quote) "six young scantily clad men." The camera panned back to reveal that she was, like the ark of the covenant, being borne on a 2-pole litter by six buff men. Yikes! Change channels. Fast!

The next channel was displaying home-video footage of an extremely obese woman trying to ride a scooter down a cement walkway adjacent to the side of the house. She careened from side to side and eventually hit her head on the cement base of a window located at eye level. She fell backward off the scooter, obviously in pain.

I told my wife to turn the TV back off.

We didn't end up seeing any of the game, but I heard this morning that it was pretty close.

This time next year maybe we won't even bother to turn the TV on.