Tuesday, December 2, 2014

A Day By Any Other Name

Black Friday. Small Business Saturday. Cyber Monday. Giving Tuesday. What special cause or group or event or feeling are we observing tomorrow?
I didn't do any shopping on Thursday night or Friday, and I didn't make it out to patronize any small businesses on Saturday (though I try to when I can), but I did order some things online yesterday, so I guess I was part of the record-breaking Cyber Monday of 2014.
And don't get me wrong. I'm certainly not opposed to giving. It's a wonderful thing. But do we really need a special day, complete with hashtags and unSELFIES, to encourage/persuade/remind ourselves to do it?
Then there's Digital Learning Day, World Spay Day, Earth Day (not to be confused with Earth Hour, which is sometime in March), World Turtle Day, Global Tiger Day, World Elephant Day, World Rhino Day, and International Mountain Day, and one of my personal favorites, International Talk Like a Pirate Day, just to mention a few.
Sure, we had Hump Day for years before the GEICO Camel came along and made it a thing, and TGIF before it was a restaurant chain, but at least those made sense in the context of a Monday-Friday work week. Now there's "Throwback Thursday" and "Flashback Friday." And did you know there's even a website that helps you keep track of them all. It's tagline is, "Register now...and never miss a day." What a godsend. Otherwise, I would never have known that today is also "Fritters Day" and tomorrow is (1) Roof Over Your Head Day, (2) Make a Gift Day, and (3) Disability Day.
I wonder why some days get more traffic than others. September 22 is 8 different special days! And that doesn't even count having been Big Granny's (my wife's paternal grandmother) birthday.
Do we really gain anything by this kind of compartmentalization of our lives? This periodic programmatic placing of priority for just a moment before moving on to the next square on the calendar? Does it have any lasting effect? Does it change any hearts or minds? Does it make life better for us or for others?
Jesus said, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today." Maybe he was talking about figuring out who I can give some fritters to, so I can cross today off my calendar with one stone.....if you'll pardon my mixed metaphor.

Does Jesus give a rat's ass about how I spend my days? I certainly hope so. What about giving? I'm sure he does. Fritters? Maybe not so much.

DrKAJ

Monday, January 6, 2014

The Anti-Yo-yo Theory of the Resurrection

In the hands of a skilled operator and when functioning properly, a yo-yo goes smoothly up and down. When thrown down, it unwinds until it reaches the end of its string, then returns to the thrower’s hand by rewinding its string around the spindle in the opposite direction. In the fancier models, a loop in the string and a smooth metal spindle allow the yo-yo to spin freely when reaches the end, an effect called “sleeping.” But, after sleeping for a while, the yo-yo springs back up to the thrower’s hand, because that’s what yo-yos are designed to do. If it didn't do this, something would be wrong.

Many Christians have the idea that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead after his crucifixion works like a yo-yo. When he dies on the cross, Jesus is like that yo-yo when it is thrown down. He “sleeps” in the tomb for a while, then pops right back up again, because that’s how it was designed to happen. In fact, if Jesus hadn't risen from the dead, something would have been wrong. These Christians believe that Jesus died knowing that, after a short delay, he would be resurrected...knowing that it was designed to happen that way, that guaranteed resurrection was part of the deal he made in surrendering his will to God’s will in Gethsemane. Sure, he will go down into the tomb, but after “sleeping” for a while, he will spring—yo-yo-like—back up to life.

But this understanding lessens the reality of Jesus’ death. If the Word really did become flesh so that God could dwell among us, if God entered into our world in a unique and miraculous way in Jesus, and became like us, then his death must also be like our death. All life must cease, and decay and dissolution must begin, with only the hope of new life. Resurrection cannot be automatic. It cannot be guaranteed.
 
Picture the yo-yo once more. But this time, imagine that the string breaks. When it is thrown down, rather than spinning at the end of the string and then rising again to the thrower’s hand, the yo-yo crashes to the floor, cracks in several places, then rolls under the sofa to be lost in the dust and darkness and never used again. That’s what death is like. When we die, we are dead. Everything that makes us who we are is gone, and we return to the elemental material from which we were made—the dust of the earth. So that must also be what Jesus’ death was like. When his lifeless body was taken down from the cross and hurriedly laid in a borrowed tomb, he was gone. He wasn't just “sleeping” for a few days, waiting to spring back up from the grave.

Dr. Farley Snell, former Chaplain at Southwestern University and one of the great influences on my life, had those of us who helped with chapel services make Lenten banners one year. He made one based on Acts 2:23-24. It read “This Jesus you crucified and killed., but God raised him up again.” We teased Farley about making a punctuation error in his design, but he explained it to us in this way: “My punctuation may be wrong, but my theology is right. The powers that arrested and crucified Jesus thought they put an end to him and his troubling teaching. They killed him and placed a period after it to signal that end. But God turned that period into a comma and kept going.”

Jesus was dead, but God was unwilling to let him stay dead. So, God raised him from the dead. The resurrection was an intentional re-creative act on God’s part that turned death back into life again. It wasn't something that happened automatically. That’s why this is called the “anti-yo-yo theory of the resurrection.” Apart from God’s special, intentional act, Jesus would have remained dead. But instead, Jesus is the first-fruits of those who will be raised from the dead. When we die, we will also be dead. Our string will break, our yo-yo will crash to the floor, crack and several places, and roll away into darkness and dust. But for each of us, God will perform an intentional re-creative act and turn our death back into life again, so that we can live with God forever.

I don't know about you, but this way of looking at it makes both the miracle of the Resurrection and our hope of eternal life much more meaningful. I think Jesus would definitely "give a rat's ass about" that!

 
DrKAJ

Thursday, May 30, 2013

I thought this little commentary I created on the new ethical standards adopted at annual conference this year might be a little too edgy for public distribution...or even for the more limited exposure of Facebook. But if you find your way here to my blog, with its uber offensive name, then you will probably take this in the spirit in which it is intended.
 

 

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

“In whom we live and move and have our being”

What would happen if we were to take this phrase seriously? Not literally, but as something more than figurative. What if God is the medium in which we exist?

Maybe Earth’s atmosphere is a good analogy, but rather than molecules of the various life-sustaining gases in which we are immersed from the moment of our birth, God is the “spiritual” atmosphere of the Creation. It can't be simply a linguistic coincidence that so many ancient languages used the same word for spirit, breath, and wind. If we move beyond the experiential aspects suggested by these linked terms to the theological, it isn't a great leap to imagine that the universe (and everything in it) is permeated by God’s presence. But that presence is attenuated, stretched so thin that it is not readily apparent. It’s more of a residue, an echo just before it fades to inaudible, an after-image on the retina just before it vanishes—real, but greatly diminished.

How would we account for such a state of affairs? One way would be to suppose that everything we think of as the physical universe now exists in a space that once was part of God. God intentionally withdrew God's Being from this space so that the Creation could come into existence in the first place as something separate from God’s own existence.

“The Earth is filled with the glory of the Lord,” says the Psalmist. Evidently, even God’s greatly reduced, filtered, and attenuated presence is enough to dazzle us mere mortals. But it is not enough to overwhelm us and trump our wills. Not enough to dictate the course of events in our lives, our world, or our universe. And this according to God’s plan.

God’s presence in Creation takes the form of love, which, though it is the greatest force in Creation, makes its power known in weakness. God loves us enough to give us freedom—and not just us, but the whole Creation as well. Since we are all made of the same basic building blocks, we all partake of the same energy, and we all exist in the same “atmosphere” of God’s presence, from the tiniest newborn baby to galactic super clusters, and everything in between, we are all connected and all cherished by our Creator.
Only the most amazing and awesome God would choose to create in this way!

And since Jesus was also part of it all, from the outset, I'm pretty sure he gives a rat's ass about it.

DrKAJ

Thursday, September 8, 2011

English as a Foreign Language

I recently spent about 8 days “across the pond” in England. The purpose of the trip was to participate in a three-day academic conference held by the Brontë Society at Cambridge University (in my other life, I’m sort of an expert on the writings of Charlotte Brontë), but I added five days onto the end of it to be “on holiday” as they say over there.


I “hired” a car when I landed at Heathrow and set off toward Cambridge. Seated on the right (wrong?) side of the car, with no
“SatNav” and no one to read the map for me, I “gave way” at countless “roundabouts,” waited in “queues,” dodged “lorries” and “HGV’s” on the “motorway,” and tried to remember to “overtake” only on the right, all the while trying to figure out why they measure distances in miles but buy “petrol” by the litre. Once in Cambridge, I wandered back and forth on the “ring road” before finally finding my way to the Homerton College “car park,” so I could check in at the “Porter’s Lodge.” Sunday, after the conference ended, I headed north for Yorkshire, taking “the A14,” which is a “dual carriageway,” to “the M1.” Before it was all over, I had learned about “zebra crossings” and “zig-zag” zones, “lay-bys” of both the “nearside” and offside” variety, and how to “negotiate a compromise” with the oncoming driver on country lanes that calling a one-lane road would be an exaggeration.


Needless to say, driving on my first visit to the UK was an adventure. Most of the folks I met at the conference couldn’t believe I was brave (or foolish) enough to do it. But I’m glad I did. My experience of British culture was much fuller and richer because of it. What I discovered is that, even when they talk funny, people are pretty much people, whether they’re in Cambridge or in Crockett. And when we remember our similarities and appreciate our differences, I think Jesus gives a rat's ass about that.
DrKAJ

Saturday, June 19, 2010

To BV or not to BV?

That was the question haunting me over the past few days. Most of the week, I had an odd feeling about my upcoming Colorado trip. I was under the weather and definitely not feeling 100%. There were things I needed to finish before leaving . . . but hadn’t. And honestly, I was a little anxious about spending 6 days alone. So, I was thinking about cancelling. I went back and forth in my mind, arguing both sides. I told myself it was foolish to waste the money I had spent on airline tickets and the cabin reservation—so I should go. But then I worried about flying to Denver, driving to Buena Vista, and getting set up in the cabin, only to be miserable.

The day before I was scheduled to leave, I decided not to go. It was a lot of money to just throw away, but it felt like the right thing to do. Sitting at home that evening in the catcher’s mitt with my feet up, I felt relaxed, and confident I had made the right decision. I woke up early Friday morning, energized and ready to tackle a list of errands. But as the day wore on, a funny thing happened. All the ambivalence I had felt about my trip was gone, and I started thinking about the ever-present Mount Princeton and Bongo Billy’s and tackling Tin Cup Pass for the first time. But it was on the way to rendezvous with Allen before he left town that it got really weird.

I pulled up alongside a car and glanced at its license plate. Two pairs of letters jumped out at me: “BV” and “GO.” Now I know a lot of people (and some of them even reasonably intelligent) who would say that God made that happen so that I would know I was supposed to reschedule my flight and go ahead with my trip. And I have to admit, that thought flashed briefly through my mind before I rejected it as being incompatible with my theological views. Don’t get me wrong. I do believe God interacts with us somehow (I don’t pretend to understand how it works, but I’m writing a novel all about it, called God Explains It All), but manipulation of people and events at this level of specificity would make any notion of free will and moral responsibility utter nonsense. The statement, “God made A happen so that B would happen so that I would then do C,” is incompatible with what I have experienced of and believe about God.

So, how do I explain that license plate? I don’t. There are 26 letters in the English alphabet, and I saw 4 of them. What happened next was all a function of that amazing little fabricator of meaning residing inside my skull.

Did God give me a little internal “Holy Spirit” nudge, prompting me to look that way at just the right moment, knowing what the license plate said and guessing what I would do with it? You tell me.

The only definite comment I can make on the subject is to point out that I am in BV, sitting at Bongo Billy’s, reflecting on the unlikely chain of events that finally got me here.

Does Jesus give a rat’s ass that I’m here? I certainly hope so.

DrKAJ

Sunday, February 7, 2010

God and the Internet (excerpt from God Explains It All)

How do you come up with this stuff? Do you Google everything I say?

Google? I don’t believe I’m familiar with that term. Is it anything like “ogle”?

You’re kidding, right? Google. The biggest search engine on the internet.

Internet. That’s the thing with computers, isn’t it?

Yes, the World Wide Web. The Information Superhighway. The Digital Revolution. Any of this sound familiar?

I don’t like to follow passing fads. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against innovation per se, but I’m not really what you would call an early adopter.

God as a Luddite. Should have seen that coming, I guess, what with the Tower of Babel and all.

Cocky upstarts! You should have seen their faces. It was priceless. Too bad you hadn’t invented your pocket translators yet.