I debate with myself- because I always lose

Recently I've begun to challenge myself to read things that are beyond my understanding from perspectives other than my own.  And I'm not just talking about 'The Cat in the Hat', either.

Today's reading: Anthropomorphism, Trisyllabic Meter, and Dr. Seuss- Why Mike Myers Isn't All That Funny

In the midst of one particular academic foray, I stumbled upon an article in which Richard Dawkins lays out a reason for refusing to engage in debate with William Lane Craig.  Heady stuff, to say the least.  After my brain temporarily shut down because of intelligence overload, I figured I could use this as a good segue into my struggle right now in regards to understanding the Bible and its role in my life.

I'll write more about this in much more depth later on (after lots of reading and research).  Suffice it to say that for a long time, I took the Bible as the true word of God because that's what I was told.  I was told that the Bible said it was the true word of God, and so therefore it was- perfect and infallible.

Lately I've been trying to think about it more objectively.  That is, if you look at it on an organic level, the Bible is a collection of history, legends, songs, and rules that were written by people thousands of years ago.  It has an elevated place because we are told it is God's direct word to His people- but is it possible that it is nothing more than the ongoing journal of one group of people from the Bronze Age?  Right now, I'm not sure either way.  But I intend to find out. 
That's all stuff for another day.  Let me get to the point of this blog- which is about the idea of genocide, and whether God is for or against it.  Actually, scratch that- I'll link you to William Lane Craig's response to a question about the genocide of the Canaanites, found in the Old Testament.  I'll let you read it.  Then I'll get to the point.

From the Christian perspective, I can see where you would say that God is the end-all-be-all, that He can do what He wants to whomever He wants.  Otherwise, He's probably not a God worth serving.  And I get it when Craig talks about us approaching this from a Western perspective. We tend to see the human race much differently (for the most part) than the Biblical writers did- and even though I think we are less xenophobic/ethnocentric than they were, I have to concede the fact that there is a bias in my viewpoint.
However, that still doesn't mean that there isn't some bias from the writers themselves.  Winston Churchill said it best- "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it".  When you have power or obtain victory, you have the opportunity to spin the history however you want.  You get to decide who the players are and who gets ignored.  You can choose who plays the hero and who plays the villain.  It usually isn't until much later when people can look back more objectively (as much as is possible, anyways) to smell the BS.

And if you demonize certain populations, then certain actions can be justified.  Think about Hitler and his quest to exterminate the Jews.  Think about African-Americans and slavery.  Think about the Native Americans and Manifest Destiny.  Think about the Catholic Church and the Inquisition.  All of these events are simply appalling and horrific in our eyes today.  At the time, though, they were "justified" because of certain beliefs about the victims.  That's the power of labels. 

I feel like I'm having a hard time connecting the dots here, but the main point is that the slaughter of the Canaanites is the same thing in my opinion.  Historically, there is no reason to believe that this was a moral venture because it involves the demonization of a people (Canaanites) from the perspective of another group of people (Israelites) that were the more dominant military force.
So why would such an account have authority to make claims about the morality of genocide- it is already skewed to the perception of the author, right?  Maybe Israel just wanted to take the land of Canaan, so they did- forcibly, under the banner of Yahweh and the cause of righteous judgment.  We don't know, because we weren't there.  All we can do is apply our own interpretation (which is skewed no matter how we try to approach it because of our own worldviews).

There's a lot more we could talk about on this issue- the idea of grace in Old Testament/New Testament theology, the effects of domestication and civilization over the years, the Monkeysphere, etc.  And as I said before, the events could have happened as reported- God may have well wanted Israel to smote the Canaanites in retribution for their sins.  But that doesn't mean we should just assume so because we are told to assume so.  God gave us eyes to see.  He gave us ears to hear.  And He gave us brains to think about things critically.  Well, that and the many other things that the brain does, which is pretty much everything.

Passion play

My cousin is pretty phenomenal. He's the other half of the famous Scottish Cousins that terrorized Alma and several Parks family Christmases. He went to the Ohio State University because U-M screwed him over (that might not be true). He's a NASA man. He competitively swing dances. He rocks a fedora. Every day, he takes a picture of whatever he's doing at 7:59 p.m.- just so you know what he's doing every day at 7:59. Geez, I feel like I'm writing a spot for the Most Interesting Man man. But that's just who he is. He's like Miles Davis.

So why did I write this paragraph of gushing praise? It's to let you know two things.

1) The following piece (in italics) was written by him as a Facebook note.

2) It would have been an amazing piece had anyone else written it. The fact that he wrote it means that it is amazing multiplied by all that stuff I said about him. To say that it had a Deep Impact on me would be to say that Ryan Reynolds is 'cute'.

Anyways, I'll stop talking (for now). Here is what he wrote.

This week there has been a big flap about the second coming of Jesus thanks to Harold Camping and his followers. Anyone who reads the overt literal text of the new testament can see that the bible is clear that no one knows when Christ will return. So in view of this, I've done my share of making fun of them. But in the middle of all of that, something has bothered me.

I never hoped that they were right.

Today, May 22, is the day after the end of the world. And for the people who sincerely believed that yesterday was supposed to be different, it's got to be unsettling. "Obviously I was wrong, but how much have I been wrong about?" The fact that the sun came up today finding everyone still on earth would shake my faith if I were in their shoes.

The thing is I believe the bible does say that Christ will come again... sometime. But, if Christ never came, I doubt that it would shake my faith. Which makes me ask, do I really believe it?

In the same way that the followers of Harold Camping are asking themselves how much they were wrong about, I find myself asking how much I actually believe. What are the parts of my worldview that, if I were wrong about, would shake my life to the core?

Honestly, I'm not sure if there's anything. And as someone who claims to follow Jesus, that troubles me. It troubles me that I have not arranged my life around the things I claim to believe. It troubles me that I have not pushed all my chips to the center of the table. I have diversified my portfolio of belief, between Christianity and deism. And in doing so, I can't help but think that the impact of my life is less than it could be.

People of passion make a difference. And say what you will about Harold Camping, for the last month or so, his passion has made a difference in his world.

People of passion make a difference. People with passion for the right things make the right difference.

Lord, give me a passion for the right things.

After reading that, I realized that I haven't really ever been a person of passion either. Not just with this Jesus thing- I mean with everything. Sure, I've had passions, but there are no passion fission chain reactions in my internal fuel rod core.

Before I get too rock-n-roll, let's look at what Mr. Dictionary has to say about passion. I'm only listing what I feel to be the relevant-to-blog definitions.

Passion (taken from dictionary.com)
–noun
1.any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.
6.a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything.
8.an outburst of strong emotion or feeling.

So I can breathe easy. I've had moments of passion before. Felt a powerful feeling? Check. Extravagant fondness? I can think of a few. Outburst of strong emotion? Uh huh. But what about being a person of passion- a person not merely experiencing passion, but living their life in a passionate fashion?

Passionate - adjective 1. having, compelled by, or ruled by intense emotion or strong feeling; fervid

Houston, we have a problem.

I've always been like an outsider looking in. My emotional spectrum doesn't have very many colors, and the ones it has aren't well developed. I'm an objective observer in a subjective life. I exist primarily in my mind. Life happens all around me, and I watch. I soak it all in, playing out the scenarios in my brain, trying to unravel the mysteries without so much as a peep or a facial twitch.

When I first got 'saved', it was largely because of fear- my scattered base of biblical knowledge started to bubble up when I was in my first collegiate tour of duty. I was afraid of the end of the world. I was having thoughts of Jesus coming back and me being left there as my mom and sister were whisked away. At night, I began to pray 'Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep' because I was afraid of what might happen to my soul if I were to suddenly pass away. Eventually, through a series of what I still believe to be divinely orchestrated events, I found a church, and I found Jesus. I did the whole sinners prayer thing, and I was off and running- and my fear of God was fed continuously by things like Y2K, the Left Behind books, and 9/11. And when I say 'fear of God', I don't mean the 'reverent awe that is the gateway to wisdom' fear. I mean the 'Crap, I better toe the line so I don't get zapped' fear.

Even in those days, I was not a passionate person. I was never "on-fire" for God- at least not in a way that I envision people being on-fire. Several times I have heard the verse from Revelations admonishing believers to "return to your first love" and it might as well have been delivered in a foreign language. I do believe that I have loved God with all of the ability to do so that I could muster. But I've never had true passion or zeal for the Lord- because I've never had an inner well to draw these things from.

The Facebook note really brought all of these issues to a head, and I realized that I had become perched on a precipice of sorts. A professing Christian man who has been hedging his bets with a faith that in reality has sort of danced between deism and pragmatic agnosticism. A thirst for knowledge, a desire to challenge the conventions of our society (including the religious systems)- and a deeply held belief that Jesus is who I have been told He is.

See even though I question things about the Bible- and sometimes feel like just disregarding it altogether- I cannot shake the fact that for all my faults and flaws and mistakes and half-faiths and doubts and questions, I have had meetings with spiritual forces greater than my own understanding in the name of Jesus. I met and eventually married an amazing woman in the name of Jesus. I started playing drums in the name of Jesus. So to me, there simply has to be something to this Jesus.

I suppose the preceding paragraphs could be seen as an exposure of a fraud. After all, I've been a youth leader. I've worked at a Christian bookstore and a Christian school. I've played worship music for over ten years. All without having a life that was defined by a passionate pursuit of the One to whom I said I was living for.

I disagree though. I feel that I've loved God and lived a Christian life to the best of my abilities for these past 12 years. But I know now that this is not enough. The note my cousin posted on Facebook resonated very deeply with me. I realized that I have managed for these 32 years of life to be a shallow surface person. That doesn't just go for God- that's friends, family, and even my wife. I constantly keep things in the kiddie pool because not only am I unsure of what lies in the depths of myself, but I'm not sure how to get there. A friend spoke a word over me a few years ago, telling me that I was like an 'iceberg of greatness'. I've been lying in wait for most of my life, slightly visible from the surface. But now the great ship Titanic has come (in this analogy, my cousins writing) and struck in a place that no one could have possibly imagined if they were merely glancing at the oceans top.

So what now? A clean slate- a God-sanctioned do-over. In a place of brokenness Sara and I came together last night to pray about all this. As I prayed I felt this sense of heavy, overwhelming peace just flood my being. At the same time, I felt a sort of weightlessness. It was amazing! Afterward I started to try and think of any sort of physiological causes- and I stopped. I realized that whether it was the physically manifest presence of the Lord or some sort of neurological response was irrelevant. The fact is that I prayed and felt the most intense, yet softest, peace I have ever felt. And it happened during a prayer. To this Jesus. I don't need a reason. I don't need a reason.

So this is me starting to go all in. This is me pushing my chips gently to the center of the table. This is me building my faith not upon fear of the end, but upon tangible peace that engulfs me. This is me- becoming a person of passion.

Phone again

So today was a very exciting day because our tax return was direct deposited and we are no longer uber poor! Naturally, we decided to go out and spend an extravagant amount of money on new phones! Well, actually, Sara spent a exorbitant amount of money on a new phone. I only spent a little money on mine.

Okay, okay, it wasn't a new phone- actually I didn't buy a phone today at all. I bought a phone accessory. Yes friends, a mere phone accessory convinced my college-educated brain that I somehow acquired an electronic device that I had not previously owned. When historians look back on this blog post, they will conclude that this is the day that I...oooooh look, shiny!!!

Let's flashback to October of 2010, when I got my new Droid phone as a super surprise Christmas present from my wife. It was amazing- I had probably spent the previous four years with a hand-me-down phone of some sort, so to be holding in my hands a brand-new smart phone- it was exhilarating. I couldn't wait to get home from work that night and try out my sweet new phone!

Flash forward just a tiny bit to right before I had to go to work that day. Delaney cut her mouth open, and I was distraught. Right before I left, I knelt down to give Shane a good-bye kiss- totally forgetting that I had put my keys and phone in the same pocket in my super duper tight jeans! Screen- cracked. Joy- depleted.

I spent the next few months wallowing in the anguish of my broken treasure. Sure, the screen still worked, and it was a smart phone. But there was an unsightly blemish on the starboard side, and every time I ran my finger over the distorted swelling, it stuck a knife through my warm fuzzies. I wanted to just cut ties with it, swallow the $90 deductible, and get a new phone...but the pragmatic side of me refused to part with a c-note over such a cosmetic deficiency. And so my internal civil war raged on for months.

Then, earlier this week, I remembered a scripture verse that gave me peace of mind and restored my hope. At least...I think it was a scripture verse. Maybe it was something that I made up all on my own. I think it was like 2 Dwayne, or something like that.

Jesus said to Nicodimus, 'Thou shalt not get a new phone except thoust phone come brand-new from the factory box a second time'. And thusly did Nicodimus then say 'But Lord, they are wrapped in cellophane and encoded with a special identification number per the terms of the cell-phone contract- how can it come brand new from the factory box again?'. Jesus replied 'Verily I tell you the truth, unless you buy a shiny blue hard case and replace thy olden screen protector, thy phone shall continue to bring shame to thee and thees household and thees households households'.

Sometimes I'm so frustrated that the Bible is such a cryptic piece of literature. I just wish it would speak more plainly on issues. So I filed this away in the back of my mind and proceeded to spend the rest of the week moping about the elephantitis on my phone's face, which at this point had also accumulated a fine layer of yucky dirt.

Anyways, today we went to Verizon to replace the phone that Sara had lost (and really, I'm surprised that this did not happen much, much sooner than it did). I was standing there, looking around, envying all of the paying customers who would be leaving Verizon Wireless with their happy brand new phones- when I saw it. It was in a clear plastic wrap- a hard case made of shiny blue. I decided to buy it. When I got home, I immediately put the case on my phone and became alive. Passion rising in my being, I tore the home apart, looking for the remaining extra screen protectors that I had laying around. Then, I found them.

And now, the moment of truth. I took the old screen protector off, expecting to find a huge gaping wound on the screen of my phone. What I found instead....was a barely noticeable nick. Really? REALLY??? I spent the last few months debating getting a new phone because of an unsightly blemish that was really just a natural reaction from air getting into the screen protector? AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!

Actually- that lasted for about .5 seconds, until I put the new screen protector on and got to experience the joy of having a new phone all over again. Seriously- it was like a second honeymoon today. My phone was lost, but now is found. It was dead to me- but it is alive again.

Oh happy day! Rejoice- and have another bean burrito, on the house!

Jesus love your church like I love my wife. No wait...don't do that. That is a terrible idea.

There comes a point where every blogger has to decide how much of themselves that they are willing to really share through this medium. I mean, sure, the really famous bloggers have hundreds of readers and can pretty much just say whatevs- but for guys like me, readership is largely limited to family, friends, and acquaintances. I have to balance my desire to share all my thoughts and ideas with the knowledge that I'm not doing this in a bubble- that I will most likely have interaction with people that read the stuff I write. As much as I want this to be a journal of sorts, the fact is that I have to determine how much of what things I'm going to share.

But I need to write this- because these thoughts and this struggle have been by and large fought in the recesses of my mind and soul- and I need to put them out there. I need to have them in a place other than inside of me. For insight from others? Maybe. Mostly so that it can be known that I have a heart and soul, and that for all the things I do poorly and perhaps improperly- I am trying to be a better person. A better father. A better husband.

A couple weeks ago I was with a group of dudes praying at church. With the undiagnosed ADD that I have, I noticed that we were all married dudes, and so I started thinking about the verse where husbands are told to love their wives like Christ loves the church (Ephesians 5:25). And I prayed that for all of us in that little group- a couple newly weds, a longer-wed, and me.

Then I was visited three times by an angel dress...no, that's not what happened. And I did not experience any sort of mystical tractor beam drawing me towards in- but this verse has stayed with me these past two weeks. I've been consciously pursuing it, chewing on it, and wrestling with it. Husbands love your wives just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her. As Christ loved the church.

Christian dudes, we love to hear the preceding verse (24) that says wives need to submit to their husbands. I mean, it just seems so simple to us- hey, I'm the husband, you're the wife, and you need to do what I say. I realize that we could begin a discussion about the changing gender roles within marriage in the 21st century, or even the role of marriage in our society- but that's not what I'm blogging about.

I try not to be this overbearring tyrant that makes decisions from the seat of his pants, expecting my wife to just shut up and play good soldier. We're fairly (I think, anyways) egalitarian, and the only time the 'Submit' card gets played is in really ridiculous situations, like when we're trying to figure out which movie to watch or where to grab pizza.

Do I feel like the 'wives submit to your husbands' is slightly antiquated then? Perhaps. But I believe that the husband part of the verse still has a very real place in the institution of marriage today. Even as gender roles change, the fact that love should have such a self-sacrificial tone is something timeless.

Not that I've been a shining example of this by any means. Those who know me most closely could testify to my selfishness- both overt and subtle. I can be extremely thoughtless and absorbed in my own little world. So these past couple weeks I've been making a more concentrated effort to have sacrificial love be a part of my relationship with my wife. It hasn't been easy- hence the blog post.

Because I wasn't brought up in a world where this type of thinking is very prevelant. This culture is not predicated on what we can do for others, but rather what others can do for us. It's the Capitalist song. So I'm left in the rubble asking what does such a love look like? And then how do I translate that love into the circumstances of our lives? How do I so freely give of myself in this society that stands coiled and ready to pounce?

I suppose I could do an in-depth study on the different iterations of the word 'love' in the bible- the different Greek verbs and their tenses, the subtle nuances and the different meanings. But that's now how I roll- not on a Saturday morning. So you get the cliff notes version.

It's pretty common to associate love in our culture with the romantic, pre-marriage sort of love. You know, where you talk on the phone for hours about nothing, and have nervous laughter, and try to hold your gas in when you're around them. You may write poetry or songs, and encircle their initials with a heart. And that's a very valid aspect of love, I don't disagree with that.

But when I look around me and see marriages and families torn apart over lack of 'love'- it seems like these situations center around a rather juvenile understanding of the concept. Yes, the spark may be gone, and that same spark may be ignited by the presence of a new person. But much of that is just the feeling of uncertain excitement- we marvel over the unknown. Once it becomes familiar, it becomes boring. So love has to be deeper. Love is a commitment. Love is a sacrifice. Without those aspects, then love is just hopping from one romantic comedy to the next.

Jesus' love for humanity is defined by the cross. In that place, he showed husbands everywhere how to love their wives. It's not pretty. It's not sexy, at all. In fact, it will be one of the most grueling and difficult tasks that we have to do.

I didn't understand that when I first got married. I was too preoccupied by nervous glances and warm fuzzies to really take time to meditate on the fact that I was being called to love her in a way that not only sacrificed my own desires- but also would operate under the assumption that there would be no reciprocation. Think about this- Jesus was crucified by the same people He was sent to save. It'd be like your wife pulling a gun on you during the wedding vows and you standing there and saying 'I do'. Love doesn't need to be reciprocated by another person, because it is a virtue that sustains itself by its expression. Like Wesley in Princess Bride, we're poor farm boys getting ordered around- and loving it. We do not this thing because we are permitted to- we do it because we have to. We do it because we are compelled.

Wait a minute, that's a terrible take on love! Well yes- but it is what it is. That's the journey that I've been on these past couple weeks. It's pushing myself to do things that I'm asked to do, even when I don't want to. I don't feel like getting up with the kids while Sara sleeps in. I probably don't want to work on the house when I have free time during the day. Maybe I just want to buy something for myself at Starbucks. And it doesn't matter if I'm working on a stellar blog post- if she's talking to me, I need to stop and listen.

The reason I struggled with writing this is that I worried that I might be somehow nullifying my efforts by making this struggle public. I mean, does real love need to let itself be known out loud like this? Jesus' death on the cross, in its own time, was not this huge spectacle. It was a death amongst thieves, witnessed by only a few. And yet, it was an act of love that has inspired millions of people throughout time.

That's the goal I am striving for (except, instead of 'millions', it should read 'my wife and children'). I long to have these simple actions incorporated into my being so that they happen without so much as a second glance. Maybe there will be no fireworks or chick flicks made about it. The only thing that matters is that my wife knows I love her- even if she doesn't realize all of the ways I might show it.