“If liberty means anything at all, it means the right
to tell people what they do not want to hear.”

- George Orwell

A commenter on my last post, Uncle Raven — someone who has known my wife and I for some time — asked a great question in relation to my review of "Expelled".

In the context of Evolution vs. ID or Big Science vs. Faith, do you believe the conception and birth of your girls was an event whose only adequate explanation is the extraordinary and direct intervention of God? Or do you allow for the possibility of Bad Science, i.e., that the RM's physician misdiagnosed her condition? And, if that's possible, how would it effect your beliefs?

Here's my response (actually it should be my wife's response because a great deal of it his her story, which I'm relating second hand because she'd gone to bed):

First, just to focus on our conception for the moment, my wife had had endometriosis several years before the two of us met. Her ob-gyn diagnosed it, treated it and performed surgery. Because of the place where she was in her life then and the things in her past that she was dealing with, she was sure she never wanted to have children anyway and told her doctor to tie her tubes as long as he was in there working on things. Which he did. Several years went by and the surgery was, well, shown to be effective at everything it was meant to do. During that time, however, she also found herself turning to God (since nothing else was working). Her heartfelt prayer eventually became, "God I want your will more than my own," and "God, change me."

She didn't know what she was asking. We were married in October of 1987 (Uncle Raven was there) and pregnant in November. Did my wife fall to her knees, praising God for this miracle? No, she did not. She was not pleased, to say the least, because she was still of a mind that she didn't want children. I won't side-track into the things she (and I to some extent) went through over the next several months, but suffice it to say that she remembered what she had been praying — and we named our first daughter Faith. Five years later we deliberately set out to have a second child. We were very pleased with the way things had worked out with the first one and so we made a list of the sex (girl) and character traits and disposition we wanted in #2 and prayed together to become pregnant and for these traits to appear in her. At the very end of our prayer, and almost as a lark, my wife said, "Oh, and God, red hair and blue eyes would be really cute, Amen!" During the ensuing pregnancy we were often asked if we knew if "it" was a boy or a girl. We'd say, "Well, we asked God for a little girl." The reaction was generally such that we didn't feel encouraged to add, "and one with red hair and blue eyes." Well, many of you know how that turned out, though I must confess my knees buckled when our second daughter was born with a full head of carrot-red hair. Not only that, but the other things we asked for, as well as a boatload of things we hadn't even thought of, were deposited in her as well.

Now, I'm not saying that this should become anyone's doctrine or that I think this "extraordinary and direct" intervention in any way means God loves my wife and I more than anyone else or has a special purpose for my daughters more special than the plans he has for everyone else. We take it simply as a sign God gave us to bolster our faith and to encourage us to look to him. If there's more to it than that, we're happy to wait and see.

Could the RM's doctor have mis-diagnosed her extreme symptoms, or failed to perform the tubal ligation completely? Conceivably (pardon the pun). Perhaps we were just lucky, except there are dozens of other testimonies, maybe even hundreds if we could write them all down, in our lives where we know we have heard from and been directed by God and seen the result — and even some where we know we didn't pay attention and missed out to our detriment and the detriment of others (sometimes I really wish we could have a burning bush or bolt of lightning something to tip us off but it hasn't worked that way for us). Similarly, we have heard and even seen similar miraculous things happen in the lives of others we know. Quite often these results line up directly with how scripture describes the ways of God. Perhaps one day I'll write a book about how all that works, but for now it's time to get back to the question about Evolution and ID.

Because I've seen scripture come true in my life, it's easier for me to believe that other scriptures about creation could also be true. Similarly, I'm not ignorant of science (the depth of my faith is a relatively recent development). I'm widely read in a number of genres, and I've swum in the waters of evolutionary theory throughout my schooling. I've done the fruit fly experiments in Science class, and I know that species can change and certain traits can be developed (as any animal breeder can tell you), but I don't think I could ever so alter a fruit fly to where it could become say, a housefly or a dragonfly, let alone a chihuahua. Oh yeah, if you had biiilllliiioonnns of years well then anything could happen, right? Kind of like the old "an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters will eventually produce all the works of Shakespeare" theory (to which a dyed-in-the-wool evolutionist might say, "What makes you think Shakespeare wasn't a monkey?")

The thing is, the more "we" learn through science, the more complex the subject matter becomes. Scientists mapping the human genome have found that cells — thought to be the simplest of organisms — are really fantastically complex and the interactions within the cells and between cells are remarkably ordered. The odds that one cell could accidentally get the right combination of materials and events to come into existence, along with the ability to reproduce itself, is literally astronomical. That the cell could divide and multiply itself into an organism that could then meet up with some other organism and that these two would discover a lot more interesting way of reproducing than just cell division is, well, incredible. (Oh yeah, I still remember the stages of cell mitosis from lab class: interphase, prophase, metaphase, anaphase and telephase.)

Anyway, somehow or another — either by an incredibly fortuitous and accidental events or by someone or something lining the dominos up first — we're here in all our wisdom and glory. The evolutionary model holds that order came out of chaos, but in everything else we see that something put in "order" (at least by man) quickly returns to disorder. Does Nature "know" something we don't and if so, how? And does that "knowing" imply an intelligence at work? As scientists continue to delve deeper and deeper and learn more and more about how much it is they don't know, couldn't it be possible that many (who's job after all is to hypothesize, test, record and try to replicate) might, even without a "Christian" or religious background, start to say, "Hmmmm?" Isn't it reasonable that countless "reasonable" people might consider that life from random crystals, or space aliens "seeding" the earth or infinite monkeys typing out, not the works of Shakespeare, but infinite lines of DNA code sound just as mythic as Adam and Eve?

We went to see Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed as planned Friday night. We went to the 6:30 p.m. show and it looked like there were two dozen people in the theater. I hope the numbers increase because it was an interesting movie presented in a mostly respectful way, dealing with a subject that — while it may not occupy a lot of your thoughts or life — can certainly add meaning to these.

Frankly, however, I can see why people will stay away, regardless of their position on the topic of Evolution/Darwinism vs. Intelligent Design (or Creationism as some describe it). Most of us don't regularly seek out controversy, especially in our recreation times. We don't go out looking for a fight, yet the buzz around this film from both sides would lead you to think a fight is what you're in for. If any thing was provoked in me, however, it was thought. So much so, in fact, that I'd like to see the film again because I'd often find myself pondering an interview I'd just watched and being distracted as the film moved to another scene or conversation. In this post I'll give you my brief take on the movie based on one viewing, plus some thoughts I've had in the past couple of days about the nature of the controversy.

First, the movie. All in all it was very well done and, as I said before, respectfully handled. Ben Stein and his crew told the stories of several people on both sides of the Darwin/ID debate and did a great job of letting each side speak without interrupting or insulting the speakers. Stein, a phlegmatic but droll speaker and thinker, didn't ambush anyone or resort to gimmicks to throw the people he disagrees with off balance, and even gave them opportunities to restate and clarify their beliefs and positions; whether this was a good thing for those people or not you can decide if you see the movie. All in all it was a very pleasant and stimulating experience, though the section dealing with the Nazi atrocities was (as always) difficult to watch and I know some of who have seen and liked the movie have complained that it was still a reach to draw a direct line from Darwin's theories through the Eugenics movement to the Nazis.

They may have a point, in that the brutality that man has visited on his brothers throughout history is not limited to a particular doctrine or worldview. Atrocities in the name of faith can be documented as well. Hitler and the Nazis, however, could have been pure hatred and evil, but the scientific footing provided by Darwin and Eugenics supported the idea of inferior races and "useless eaters" and stripped the humanity — in the eyes of the Nazis — from their victims. A more effective analogy in the film was the comparison of the squelching of ID in science and academia to the Communist regimes that built walls, stifled dissent, assassinated (careers in this case) and ruthlessly intimidated those who didn't go along.

Again, this is not a trait exclusive to Darwinists, though it is a mockery of the noblest principles of scientific exploration and curiosity. Faith, too, has squelched and scorned when it found itself threatened; the fact that the "new" faith does the same is sad and but not surprising, and is even ironic in how its disciples refer to ID proponents as "flat earthers". Back in Galileo's time, most people knew the world couldn't be flat; practical experience with sight-lines over distances showed that and those who watched the stars (there wasn't television then) could get an idea that maybe everything didn't really revolve around us. Still, talking about this (in the Church's eyes) threatened the status quo and social order. Today, if people stop to really think about it, they can sense at a gut-level that the complexity of life (not just the statistical improbability, but impossibility of even a single cell coming into existence randomly or spontaneously and then being able to replicate, mutate and evolve before being destroyed doesn't make sense, even to those sworn to believe it, as the movie points out). The stakes for protecting the status quo today, however, are much the same, or even higher, as Brent Bozell noted in his review of the movie:

It is a reality of PC liberalism: There is only one credible side to an issue, and any dissent is not only rejected, it is scorned. Global warming. Gay "rights." Abortion "rights." On these and so many other issues there is enlightenment, and then there is the Idiotic Other Side. PC liberalism's power centers are the news media, the entertainment industry and academia, and all are in the clutches of an unmistakable hypocrisy: Theirs is an ideology that preaches the freedom of thought and expression at every opportunity, yet practices absolute intolerance toward dissension. (HT Are We Lumberjacks?)

If one area can be questioned then what might happen to the other pillars of what passes for "intelligent" thought in our world today.

In either camp, it ultimately comes down to faith. Personally, I don't dwell a lot on Genesis or Revelation in my faith. I know, beyond a doubt, that God is real and what he has done in my life through my faith in his son, Jesus. Exactly how it began and exactly how it will end don't interest me as much as what God has done and is doing in my life today, and what I can do for others. I need go no further than the miraculous lives of my two daughters who, while they may be unusual, are certainly not mutants even though it was nigh on impossible for them to be conceived.

I would have liked to have seen more discussion of the tenets of ID in the movie in addition to the stories of the remarkable and consistent persecution of those who dared to try to follow the evidence where it leads. Certainly the part about the complexity of cells both boggles and fires the imagination, while the rhetorical contortions of the Darwinist scientists as they try every explanation but God (crystals, space aliens, lightning striking a mud puddle) to explain how life came to be inspire giggles, not boggles.

Make no mistake, Stein didn't stack the deck when he lined up people to speak on camera for the movie. He had some of the best known names and noted intellects sit down in front of the camera and talk, even though their dismissals of ID theories or research were typically ad hominen attacks on their counterparts or insulting speculation of their opponents' agendas, with little offered in terms of refuting the ID argument on anything other than its premise.

Toward the end of the movie Richard Dawkins, author of The God Delusion, reads an excerpt from his book describing God — if he exists — as a petty, violently jealous, homicidal tyrant (among other things). If Dawkins is correct in his description, perhaps there is no God because if there were Dawkins would surely have been struck down. Or, perhaps it means that God is real and is as loving and merciful as others say. If so, why wouldn't Science want us to even consider the idea?

UPDATE:
Here's a thoughtful take on the movie from Joe Carter at Evangelical Outpost:

The film doesn't attempt to present the scientific case for ID (though Stein promises this will be included on the DVD version) nor does it attempt to undermine the credibility of neo-Darwinism (though the Darwinists in the film do a masterful job of that, albeit unintenionally). Stein's primary focus is on the freedom of academics to merely consider an idea that is deemed verboten in the Ivory Towers. He uses a series of interviews, interspersed with Cold War imagery, in a way that that is both entertaining and enlightening. It is only when it veers off into the historical connection between Darwinism and Nazism that the film stumbles. The conjunction between the two is indisputable, though ultimately as irrelevant as the connection between religion and ID. Scientific theories must be judged on their merit, not on unfortunate outcomes that may result.

Another caution is that Expelled isn't a fair movie. When Stein interviews advocates of ID he selects scientists and philosophers that are thoughtful and sober while the Darwinists tend to be either a bit nutty (Bill Provine) or unable to keep from damaging their own cause (PZ Myers). Likewise, he stacks the decks in ID's favor by interviewing intellectual heavyweights like David Berlinski while allowing neo-Darwinism to be defended by Richard Dawkins, a man who is highly educated but of only modest intellect. The result is a film that isn't balanced and isn't fair. But it is both funny and infuriating. At least it is, as Stein would no doubt say, if you value freedom. Rating: B+

Great testimony from King David over at The Far Wright today. It reminded me of a song we sang in church yesterday that goes, in part, "God will make a way, where there seems to be no way."

What I saw in that song is that when there seems to be no way it really means that there seems to be no way to me. God always knows and sees the way — and usually I'm bogged down right smack in the middle of it (the way, that is).

We all have had the experience of trying to do things "our way" (thanks, Frank), the "worldly" way. If we're blessed, or not too stubborn, we get hooked up with a good church and start to see God move and do things in our lives (He was doing them all along but we usually didn't recognize them for what they were). We get a new idea of God's power and mercy and we believe it and experience ... yet we get comfortable or when a new challenge comes we still put ourselves in the position of saying or deciding what God can, or cannot, do. Even though we've seen that there were things we didn't know before that have since changed our lives, we may yet assume that now we know it all ...

"Oh yeah, God will do that, but He wouldn't do this" or ...

"If I do this, then God will do that, ...

or the reverse, "God can't do this because I didn't do that..."

"God no longer speaks to us...or heals...or delivers...or opens doors that no man can close..."

Maybe it's because our fear trumps our faith; we fear our faith is not even as big as a mustard seed, or we're afraid that God won't come through, or we're afraid we somehow haven't "earned" His grace — even if we've had hours, years, even decades of sound teaching that tells us His grace is a gift that no one can earn...

We cling to our doctrines and our own understanding, lovingly polished over the years, and fail to see or remember the underlying Word that they were based on. We're afraid to just let go and put it in His hands, as if His plan isn't sufficient for our needs, as if our senses are the sole arbiter of what makes sense.

God still speaks. He still heals. He still provides. If you don't believe me, go talk to King David.

Great testimony from King David over at The Far Wright today. It reminded me of a song we sang in church yesterday that goes, in part, "God will make a way, where there seems to be no way."

What I saw in that song is that when there seems to be no way it really means that there seems to be no way to me. God always knows and sees the way — and usually I'm bogged down right smack in the middle of it (the way, that is).

We all have had the experience of trying to do things "our way" (thanks, Frank), the "worldly" way. If we're blessed, or not too stubborn, we get hooked up with a good church and start to see God move and do things in our lives (He was doing them all along but we usually didn't recognize them for what they were). We get a new idea of God's power and mercy and we believe it and experience ... yet we get comfortable or when a new challenge comes we still put ourselves in the position of saying or deciding what God can, or cannot, do. Even though we've seen that there were things we didn't know before that have since changed our lives, we may yet assume that now we know it all ...

"Oh yeah, God will do that, but He wouldn't do this" or ...

"If I do this, then God will do that, ...

or the reverse, "God can't do this because I didn't do that..."

"God no longer speaks to us...or heals...or delivers...or opens doors that no man can close..."

Maybe it's because our fear trumps our faith; we fear our faith is not even as big as a mustard seed, or we're afraid that God won't come through, or we're afraid we somehow haven't "earned" His grace — even if we've had hours, years, even decades of sound teaching that tells us His grace is a gift that no one can earn...

We cling to our doctrines and our own understanding, lovingly polished over the years, and fail to see or remember the underlying Word that they were based on. We're afraid to just let go and put it in His hands, as if His plan isn't sufficient for our needs, as if our senses are the sole arbiter of what makes sense.

God still speaks. He still heals. He still provides. If you don't believe me, go talk to King David.

Rich Karlgaard is among those pondering a return of the religious left:

Yet while secular politics are unwelcome in our church, I have noticed subtle shifts of late. The mood of the ministry and congregation is moving left. The music is moving toward a folk-rock sound of the 1960s and 1970s. Youth ministers wear berets and soul patches. The younger ministers don’t identify themselves as “Christians” but as “Jesus followers.” I would guess that most of them are Obama supporters, but I don’t ask.

To my thinking, "Christian" is ideally something that other people should call you because of what they see in you, rather than something you'd necessarily call yourself. "Follower of Christ" doesn't do much for me, since Jesus had a lot of people following him around during his ministry, perhaps just for the food. Personally, I like "Imitator of Christ" myself (more on that later).

America’s religious left seems to be mounting a comeback. I’m happy for this development, even though my own tilt is to the right.

The religious left has a distinguished past in American history. It led the abolition fight in the 19th century. It led the civil rights movement in the 20th century. Organizations like the Red Cross grew out of progressive Christianity.

Yes, and I think the basis of America's welfare program appealed to our country's Christian heritage and the well-meaning desire to do good and to help the poor. That welfare has had the un-Christian effect of destroying families and perpetuating multi-generational poverty also has to be acknowledged — something the religious left is loathe to do. It has also been, at best, ambivalent about abortion, and its infatuation and even outright embrace of communist and socialist totalitarianism from the Soviets to Castro, Ortega on through Chavez, and it's apparent commitment to replacing God with Government throughout U.S. policy is also disturbing. (That's not to say the Religious Right hasn't supported it's share of dictators and made its own alliances of convenience).

The strange disappearance of America’s religious left during the 1970s has been noted but not examined much. My own guess is that drugs, music, sex, New Age religions, body worship, tree worship, earth worship and so forth, siphoned off an entire generation of seekers who had previously found their mystic/activist fulfillment in the left hemisphere of Christianity.

Now one detects that many old hippies, and sons and daughters of hippies, are returning to progressive Christianity.

We’ll see how this plays out politically. If there must be a left, then let's cheer for a religious and not an atheistic left. However, I do think the trend benefits Democrats and is one reason why Democratic primary voter turnout has far excelled Republican voter turnout this year. The mainstream secular media, as usual, has utterly missed this story.

I think I agree with Karlgaard that if there's going to be a left let it be a religious left rather than an atheistic one. My caveat, and especially my prayer (for both the left and the right) is that the focus is on seeking and doing God's will, ideally by trying to be like Christ.

Earlier I mentioned being an "imitator" of Christ. Because we're all human (left and right), it is an easy step to try and move from "imitator" to "impersonator", wherein we try to rule by proclamation as if we, ourselves, were God. That's certainly long been a fear and a warning from the left side of the church aisle regarding the motivations of the right, while the left's own similar tendencies are ignored or attributed to "doing good" or "meaning well."

My belief is that any "theocracy", whether left or right, is fatally flawed by our own human imperfections and tendency to turn moves into movements; movements into monuments; and, ultimately, monuments into mausoleums. By all means, we should pursue faith in our lives and we should hope that our personal beliefs will be reflected in our public behavior individually and through policy. Our responsibilities to the poor (and the poor's responsibilities to God and others); to be stewards of the earth; to deal ethically and compassionately with others are all things that must be done and honored by individuals, not discharged to a collective or government to be taken care of while we blithely go our own selfish way. As I've written here before, if God asks me if I helped the poor (as if He doesn't already know) I don't think He's going to be impressed if I say, "Well, I paid my taxes." Being religiously left or right, highly taxed or not, doesn't lessen our responsibilities to do something on an individual basis, no matter how many marches, protests or church services we go to.

We often hear the phrase, "What would Jesus do?" as a guide to behavior. I suppose that's all right as far as it goes. A better statement might be, "What is Jesus doing?" and then trying to line up with that. If we believe Jesus is still at work around us, and not that He's gone off and left us to our own freedom-eroding devices, we can purpose to look for those things and and align ourselves accordingly. I urge those of the religious left, and my friends on the religious, to put our focus on glorifying God, not our own group or idealogy. If we can do that — though we may disagree from time to time — I think we'll be all right.

Saturday morning we had our Inside Outfitters men's meeting with men from a couple of other churches and a large contingent from Minnesota Teen Challenge. During the worship part of the meeting we sang with an abridged version of the song "Yes" by Shekinah Glory.

Will your heart and soul say "yes"?
Will your spirit say yes?
If I told you what I really mean,
would your heart and soul say "yes"?

It's a song that moves slowly and deeply, giving one a chance to either sing along or meditate on the words as they minister.

There is more that I require of of you,
Will your spirit still say, "yes"?

For such a long time in my life my answer was always "No."

Later I came around to where I said, "I don't know."

Eventually, in many areas of my life I said, "Yes" — to great effect.

Why then, in too many other areas, do I say, "Yes......but"?

Saturday morning we had our Inside Outfitters men's meeting with men from a couple of other churches and a large contingent from Minnesota Teen Challenge. During the worship part of the meeting we sang with an abridged version of the song "Yes" by Shekinah Glory.

Will your heart and soul say "yes"?
Will your spirit say yes?
If I told you what I really mean,
would your heart and soul say "yes"?

It's a song that moves slowly and deeply, giving one a chance to either sing along or meditate on the words as they minister.

There is more that I require of of you,
Will your spirit still say, "yes"?

For such a long time in my life my answer was always "No."

Later I came around to where I said, "I don't know."

Eventually, in many areas of my life I said, "Yes" — to great effect.

Why then, in too many other areas, do I say, "Yes......but"?

Where is it written in the Bible that guys have to be romantic? I mean, really, give me a scripture. I checked, and my concordance must be the Strong’s Silent Type, because the word “romantic” doesn’t appear once. Yet our culture tells us that women want men to be “romantic”, which usually means tender, sensitive and – oh yeah – dead.

In so many romantic movie by the time the credits are rolling over the last rays of poignant lighting, the guy is dead. As they might say in the Romance languages: Finito. Morte. Cold as a mackerel (like the guy in Titanic).

Why does it have to be like that? Well, I put down my Strong’s and picked up my Funk & Wagnall. It lists the definition of romance as “the character or nature of that which appears strange and fascinating, heroic, chivalrous…” and “a form of idealistic prose fiction distinguished from the novel or tale because it does not bind itself to reality…”

Well, there you have it: Romance is a fiction. The guy has to die at the end or otherwise ride off into the sunset or else reality will set in and the whole thing ultimately falls apart. You think women will pay to see a movie 17 times if turns out the knight leaves his shining armor laying around on the floor, or likes to spend his afternoons watching the jousts and scratching himself? ‘Tis a far, far better thing that he die nobly than live on and spoil the fantasy. That’s why most of what is considered "romantic" in our culture is really just a bunch of manipulative fluff that’s meant to sell something (or some philosophy).

There is an essential truth in all that, however: you really do have to die.

Earlier I challenged you to give me a scripture that mentions romance. I don’t think you’ll find one, but you will find an example of someone laying down his life for his bride. Ephesians 5:25 commands us to "love our wives as Christ loves the church." He gave himself up, and we are to do the same.

Now I’d guess most of us, if it came right down to it, would be willing to take a bullet for our wives. The real question is, “But will you let her have the last doughnut?” It’s one thing to lay down your life in a blaze of glory like in the movies, but it’s a lot more difficult (and even more romantic) to do it day in, day out by putting someone else’s needs ahead of our own. Perhaps at some time or another you’ve heard the phrase, “C’mon, would it kill you to show a little consideration?” And the answer to that, honestly, is “yes.” It does kill us in so much as we lay aside our will, our pride, our way of doing things in order to reach out to her in a way that is meaningful to her.

We die a little when we put down the newspaper to ask her about her day; when we go out of our way to do something to make her day or her life easier; when we take her concerns and input into consideration in making a joint decision. Is it one-sided? Well, it can be, but it’s been my experience and observation that these activities are very much included in the laws of sowing and reaping, and the harvest usually comes pretty fast. Furthermore, if we are to take Christ as our model, we see that he laid down his life for us first without concern for what he would get back (in fact, even knowing that there would be many who would not accept his sacrifice).

He did it, the scripture says, to make us (the church) holy. One of the definitions of “holy” is “to be set apart.” We demonstrate that our wives are holy to us by treating them in a way that shows we value them more than any relationship in our lives other than God. Instead of taking them for granted because we’re around them so much, we put extra effort into their well-being precisely because we are around them so much. Yes, it will cost us everything – and it will pay back more than we can ever imagine.

Where is it written in the Bible that guys have to be romantic? I mean, really, give me a scripture. I checked, and my concordance must be the Strong’s Silent Type, because the word “romantic” doesn’t appear once. Yet our culture tells us that women want men to be “romantic”, which usually means tender, sensitive and – oh yeah – dead.

In so many romantic movie by the time the credits are rolling over the last rays of poignant lighting, the guy is dead. As they might say in the Romance languages: Finito. Morte. Cold as a mackerel (like the guy in Titanic).

Why does it have to be like that? Well, I put down my Strong’s and picked up my Funk & Wagnall. It lists the definition of romance as “the character or nature of that which appears strange and fascinating, heroic, chivalrous…” and “a form of idealistic prose fiction distinguished from the novel or tale because it does not bind itself to reality…”

Well, there you have it: Romance is a fiction. The guy has to die at the end or otherwise ride off into the sunset or else reality will set in and the whole thing ultimately falls apart. You think women will pay to see a movie 17 times if turns out the knight leaves his shining armor laying around on the floor, or likes to spend his afternoons watching the jousts and scratching himself? ‘Tis a far, far better thing that he die nobly than live on and spoil the fantasy. That’s why most of what is considered "romantic" in our culture is really just a bunch of manipulative fluff that’s meant to sell something (or some philosophy).

There is an essential truth in all that, however: you really do have to die.

Earlier I challenged you to give me a scripture that mentions romance. I don’t think you’ll find one, but you will find an example of someone laying down his life for his bride. Ephesians 5:25 commands us to "love our wives as Christ loves the church." He gave himself up, and we are to do the same.

Now I’d guess most of us, if it came right down to it, would be willing to take a bullet for our wives. The real question is, “But will you let her have the last doughnut?” It’s one thing to lay down your life in a blaze of glory like in the movies, but it’s a lot more difficult (and even more romantic) to do it day in, day out by putting someone else’s needs ahead of our own. Perhaps at some time or another you’ve heard the phrase, “C’mon, would it kill you to show a little consideration?” And the answer to that, honestly, is “yes.” It does kill us in so much as we lay aside our will, our pride, our way of doing things in order to reach out to her in a way that is meaningful to her.

We die a little when we put down the newspaper to ask her about her day; when we go out of our way to do something to make her day or her life easier; when we take her concerns and input into consideration in making a joint decision. Is it one-sided? Well, it can be, but it’s been my experience and observation that these activities are very much included in the laws of sowing and reaping, and the harvest usually comes pretty fast. Furthermore, if we are to take Christ as our model, we see that he laid down his life for us first without concern for what he would get back (in fact, even knowing that there would be many who would not accept his sacrifice).

He did it, the scripture says, to make us (the church) holy. One of the definitions of “holy” is “to be set apart.” We demonstrate that our wives are holy to us by treating them in a way that shows we value them more than any relationship in our lives other than God. Instead of taking them for granted because we’re around them so much, we put extra effort into their well-being precisely because we are around them so much. Yes, it will cost us everything – and it will pay back more than we can ever imagine.

Here's some of what we were singing today:

Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
open the eyes of my heart,
I want to see you; I want to see you...

See you high and lifted up, shining in the light of your glory,
Pour out your power and love as we sing holy, holy, holy!

What caught my attention was the reference to the "eyes of my heart" as opposed to my eyes themselves, and being able to see Jesus. Just what are the eyes of my heart, and what do they "see"? And it occurred to me that sometimes we sing about seeing God and Jesus glorified in the world, or think that the songs are about them being glorified in the world around us, when the change in the world begins with a change in our own hearts.

After all, will the way I go out into the world and go about my business change once I've truly seen Jesus high and lifted up and shining in the light of His glory in my own heart? What power and love might pour out as I sing, "Holy, holy, holy"?

I've seen a lot of questions about the difference between courting and dating since Faith and Ben made their courtship announcement a few weeks ago - and I'm just one of the parents. I know the two of them have tried to explain it to others, and it's a challenge to do so. Part of the problem is that the concept that should be familiar to people has become hard to define. There is commonality between dating and courtship, but the distinctions are, well, distinct. Part of the challenge for Faith and Ben, and myself, is that while we know what the concept is and have seen it lived out in others, we're still new to actually living it ourselves (I include myself here because the parents do play an important role).

Scanning through the Google-searches that have brought people to this blog, however, I came across some very helpful links from people who have followed this path. Among the most charming is a series of posts by Alex and Carmen where they described their relationship through three stages leading up to their marriage in 2003:

Friendship

Courtship

Engagement

In addition, I discovered a very clear Q & A post on the subject that does a great job in outlining the diffences here at Vidaville.

Check them out if you're so inclined. I know I'll be looking at them often.

A little while back our pastor said during a service that we shouldn't just sing the words during Praise & Worship time, but be sensitive to the Spirit and open to insights that would come. I remember thinking at the time that that sounded like a reasonable approach but I didn't give it another thought as the week, maybe even two weeks, went on. Then it just started happening: we would be singing and one or two lines in a song would just seem to come alive within me, painting a picture or creating a deeper understanding.

The first time it was kind of neat. The next week it happened with another song, which in turn reminded me of the week before. Then another week, another song, another picture. It kept happening, and sometimes I would share these pictures or revelations with the congregation and other times I'd keep it to myself and ponder it. What I also found happening, however, is that these images would fade as the week went on unless something specifically reminded me of them. Even then it could be just the sketchiest recollection; I'd remember the general sense of what I'd seen but not the quickening I felt when it first coalesced in my mind, kind of like having a dream and then trying to describe the next day over lunch.

What I've decided to do, then, is to try and write these down as soon as I can and since I'm doing that I might as well post them here for whatever it's worth. Frankly, I don't know if this will help me remember or apply what I've seen, or if it will bring the whole thing to a halt. Or maybe it's what I've supposed to have been doing all along.

Today in church we did something very different and didn't sing, but last week I had made special note of what I'd received and wrote it down and held onto it while I decided whether to start sharing these pictures. Here goes.

"He wraps himself in light,
and darkness tries to hide..."

The song had many more lines than that but these two were what stopped me. I pictured what happens when a light is turned on in an empty room; immediately the darkness clears out, looking for a place to hide. It can only exist where there's something that blocks the light, so it goes to the corners as if trying to find a narrow space. If the room has boxes or furniture in it, though, it will "hide" on the other side of these, appearing as a shadow.

Then I saw that the "room" is our lives and Jesus is the light that comes in, and the darkness tries to hide from Him. Great parts of the room are illuminated, but the shadows still exist behind the stuff in the room. Some of that stuff in my room are things that I've carried in there, and some are things that others might have deposited. Regardless, there are things in my life — things where my mind hasn't been completely renewed, things where I still prefer to lean toward my own understanding or my own plans — that come between me and Jesus. Though the room is lit and much brighter than before, and the shadows aren't as dark as the dark itself was, certain things in my life have a dark side that doesn't want the light to come in.

So. Can I let the light shine on me in these areas? The light is all around, it wants to be where I am. But it's cool in the shade and sometimes the light hurts my eyes so that I don't want to look at it. What do I do? If it's something I've brought in — some comfy furniture, for example, or abstract art that I thought made me look sophisticated — I should just carry it outside. If it's baggage that someone else has dropped I should carry that out like garbage as well, or if it's too heavy, at least step out from behind it rather than using it as an excuse. Perhaps I am like a chastened puppy, hiding under the couch that just needs to come out and let restoration and transformation begin.

Can I, will I, crawl out?

Psalm 89:15 "Blessed [is] the people that know the joyful sound: they shall walk, O LORD, in the light of thy countenance."

John 8:12 "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life."

Ephesians 5:8 "For ye were sometimes darkness, but now [are ye] light in the Lord: walk as children of light..."

There have been some questions, since Ben and Faith (the Mall Diva) announced their courtship last week, as to what courtship is, and — if they've agreed to be married — how come they don't just say they are engaged? Actually, what they've agreed to is to look at the possibility of being married. Over the course of their courtship they should both come to know whether the possibility can be a reality. I want and expect both of them to post more about courtship and their experiences going forward, and I won't dig into what can be a complex topic here and now. I think this will be a more useful discussion if it comes from their perspective.

What I would like to do, however, is describe the process of friendship, wherein they both came to the place where courtship became a possibility.

As described last week, it was a little over a year ago when Ben expressed his hope and intention to one day be in a position to marry my daughter. At that time they had already known each other socially for about a year. They were not, however, at a level where a courtship could begin, which essentially was what Ben was asking for permission to do. Given the difference in their ages and circumstances, Faith's mother and I thought it best that they learn to be friends first - — to find out if they could realistically and truthfully put the other person's best interests ahead of their own. This model of friendship is found in the Bible, and was the basis of a post I first offered here back in 2005 (when maybe 20 people a day were stopping by). I'll repeat it below, with minor editing (many of the links originally included have since fallen away). At the time, though we had witnessed it in other people's lives, it was still mostly theory for us. We have now seen it take hold in "real life", to the point where we could see the evidence in their lives and give our blessing for the courtship stage to begin.

On being a friend

...This got me to thinking, however, about the far less titillating but every bit as devastating romantic tragedies that happen all around us. Even, dare I say, in our own lives. My wife and I have been very blessed and happy in our 17-year marriage, but we both experienced emotion-searing, even mind-altering damage in our single days (stories for another day, but don't count on it).

As we look to what may be ahead for our daughters, we've come to realize that the dating culture of serial monogamy and mini-divorces is not a good way to find a mate for life. And that's based on our experiences from 20 and 30 years ago in the more idealistic days of the sexual revolution. With our oldest being of "dating" age, my wife and I naturally want better for our daughters than what we subjected ourselves to when we were their age.

Back then, at least, the culture expected couples to adopt the appearance of having a relationship. Now even the minimal commitment to someone else needed to simply make a date is optional in today's hook-up culture among teens and older singles. Somewhere along the line "Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am" went from being the height of selfishness to the point where merely throwing in the "thank you" passes for gentlemanliness. The glorification of sensation has ironically desensitized a significant part of a generation, and I can't even picture how much "enlightenment" is required to make this look like a good thing.

Even in evangelical circles the challenges are severe for parents with an eye to preparing their youth for healthy, happy marriages. The book "Best Friends for Life" by Michael and Judy Phillips includes several case studies of kids who grew up in "churched" families and dated other "churched" youth and eventually married - and then crashed and burned. Though each example had different characteristics, the common thing I saw in each was the parents really had no vision of what they wanted for their kids or what was acceptable - or if they did, they didn't communicate it. In many cases they gave in to the predominant dating model and were simply glad that their son or daughter was dating another Christian. As a result, the youngsters also fell into self-centered relationships in which they may have been physical, but they were far from intimate.

Is there another option? Well, I admit that the locking them in a tower until they're 30 plan has its strong points, but that doesn't do anything to prepare them for a strong marriage either. Our plan is the opposite of isolation, both the isolation of the tower where they are separated from others and the passion-induced isolation of being a couple where they separate themselves from others. We've encouraged our daughters to have a group of friends they can count on and do things with as a group. Boys can be a part of this group, and are even encouraged, but no pairing up. The idea is to determine who can be trusted to be a friend - and not who just wants to get friendly.

What are the standards for friendship? The Bible lists some good ones (New Living Translation):

• Friends are few (Prov. 18:24) - "There are 'friends' who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother." We know the traditional concept of what a brother is, but think about what a brother is to a woman. A brother is someone who will stand by you and stand up for you because he wants the best for you, not because of what you can do for him.



• A friend lays down his life (John 15:13)"And here is how to measure it--the greatest love is shown when people lay down their lives for their friends." A friend puts your needs and well-being above his own.



• A friend loves unconditionally (Prov. 17:17) "A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need."



• A friend speaks the truth in love (Prov. 27:6)
  "Wounds from a friend are better than many kisses from an enemy." A friend will tell you what you need to hear, again because he wants what is best for you. Someone caught up in infatuation or what he thinks is love will keep quiet so as not to jeopardize the physical aspects of the relationship.



• A friend encourages you and is sensitive to your needs (Prov. 26:18, 19) "Just as damaging as a mad man shooting a lethal weapon is someone who lies to a friend and then says, 'I was only joking.'"
  

If true friendships can be established in a safe environment where the emotional stakes are not as high, then the ground is prepared for a possible courtship with an eye toward marriage. In a true courtship, both partners learn to trust the other with more and more of their innermost thoughts, wishes and emotions. This relationship is the key to a successful marriage. Most modern marriages fall short of genuine intimacy due to a distorted cultural image of romanticism that expects immediate intimacy. Too many want to jump right to the courtship stage simply because the other person is cute or a "hottie." This might make for lovely wedding photos (or great tabloid covers) but is not much of a foundation for a lovely marriage.

I may appear pretty smug and overconfident seeing as how our oldest is just entering this dynamic time, but the rules and expectations have been set down and discussed for several years prior to this, and we do have wonderful examples in the lives of other parents and young marrieds we know who have crossed these waters ahead of us.

Truthfully, I don't expect it to be easy, but right now the relationship my wife and I have with our children is still the most important in their lives aside from the relationship they are developing with God. And part of our responsibility in this relationship is to prepare them for a relationship with God and for a loving and godly relationship with their spouse - and ultimately their own children who they, in turn, must train. It won't be the easiest course, but given what else is out there, I know it is the safest.

There's no questioning the depth of feeling between Faith and Ben and the sincerity of their intentions. They will, however, face significant issues in the time that is before them. Difficult, even painful, decisions, must be made. Because of the foundation that has already been created, however, they are better prepared to shine.

"The Eternal Being, who knows everything and created the whole universe, became, not only man, but before that a baby, and before that a foetus inside a woman's body. If you want to get the hang of it, think how you would like to become a slug or crab."

— C.S. Lewis, from Mere Christianity

We were singing "Joy to the World" in church the other day. I've always like that Christmas carol, but as with many familiar songs, I sometimes gloss over the words without thinking about them.

So anyway, we started rollicking through the part about "the glories of His righteousness..." and I suddenly had the thought: "Just what are the glories of His righteousness?" Certainly his righteousness would have to appear pretty darn glorious when stood up next to my righteousness since mine, when left to my own devices, is a pretty rickety framework with a veneer-thin coating not big enough to cover all the gaps I'd like to hide so I have to keep shifting it from place to place as the wind blows.

And then the revelation returned to me that MY righteousness is worthless, but the righteousness of the sinless Christ is so great and glorious that it covers me and makes me righteous in God's sight, and not because of anything I did but because of what Jesus did. In fact, because of what Jesus came to do.

Then I thought of the next line in the song: "...and wonders of His love, and wonders of His love..." for it is a wonder that God's love is so all encompassing that He would send His son, and the son's love would be so great that He would endure all for me.

And I sang with a great, sounding Joy.

Today's the birthday of the great writer, teacher and Christian apologist C. S. Lewis, born in Belfast, Ireland in 1898. Coincidentally, it is also the day nineteen years later that he arrived at a trench in the front lines of World War I.

I noticed both of these details at the bottom of the page this morning as I did my daily read from A Year With C.S. Lewis: Daily Readings From His Classic Works. I gave the book to myself about this time last year and started the schedule on January 1. It's almost a sad feeling to realize that I'm nearly finished.

The book consists of daily, one page (often only a paragraph or two) excerpts from Lewis's impressive body of work, mainly from Mere Christianity, The Great Divorce, The Problem of Pain, A Grief Observed, The Weight of Glory and The Screwtape Letters and others. Often several days in a row would center around a common theme. It's been a fascinating and thought-provoking experience as I've come to see new things in works that I already thought I "knew." Some of the excerpts from A Grief Observed and The Problem of Pain have been especially timely and comforting over the past several months as my father's health worsened (funny how I "just happened" to get this book when I did). Little biographical details related to each day are also featured, and it's been kind of a Tarantino-like experience to track the events in Lewis's life in this manner when the days are in sequence but the years are not.

This book would be a great gift for the reader and thinker in your family who is often pressed for time. I will echo one of Lewis's warnings, however:

"A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading."

I wrote this essay for another publication, back in September, 2001.

Ultimately, America’s secular façade crumbled even before its material symbols collapsed. I first turned on my radio — and heard the first words regarding Tuesday’s disaster — moments before the second tower was struck. The voices of the national news team were already urging Americans to pray for the safety of those involved. It sounded almost glib at first, but as the unreal became real and the horror increased by the minute, the references became more heart-felt, even desperate.

As our true helplessness and vulnerability became apparent, the call to pray was in every report and every story. And pray we did: alone, with our families, and in special services and vigils that themselves became news. All of this flying in the face of a culture and media that has said for years that faith and divine intervention are, at best, inappropriate if not impossible. It must have been like discovering that the kooky old aunt you’ve been keeping in the attic is the only one who knows where the family silver is buried.

But which is the true picture of America? Are we a secular society that merely pays lip service to faith when a crisis looms, or are we a nation of quiet faithful who allow ourselves to be cowed by society until circumstances give us a chance to break out? I know how our attackers would describe us.

Make no mistake, this is a spiritual and religious war. Those who attacked us chose as their main target what they perceived to be the symbolic spiritual center of our nation. Perhaps we need to ask why the most recognizable symbol — and target — of a country founded on Christian principles should turn out to be the World Trade Center.

My opinion, however, is that we are primarily a nation of faith even if the cultural spin obscures this. There are just too many blessings in our lives and too few fruitful external assaults on our freedom and security for it to be otherwise. Our country could not have developed the abundance we experience (or manage our enormous debt) without God’s favor and the generally well-intentioned (if unfocused) spiritual character of our people. The vicious and ungodly in-fighting of our leaders and factions in an attempt to garner power and divvy up the fruit from our foundational blessings is both sad and laughable in comparison to the desperation that much of the rest of the world lives in: we’re fleas fighting over the dog, but our biting and scratching just may drive the dog crazy (to which the dyslexic, atheistic flea shouts "there is no dog!")

But if we’re stronger spiritually than we realize, what is the meaning of the September 11 attacks?

I wrote this essay for another publication, back in September, 2001.

Ultimately, America’s secular façade crumbled even before its material symbols collapsed. I first turned on my radio — and heard the first words regarding Tuesday’s disaster — moments before the second tower was struck. The voices of the national news team were already urging Americans to pray for the safety of those involved. It sounded almost glib at first, but as the unreal became real and the horror increased by the minute, the references became more heart-felt, even desperate.

As our true helplessness and vulnerability became apparent, the call to pray was in every report and every story. And pray we did: alone, with our families, and in special services and vigils that themselves became news. All of this flying in the face of a culture and media that has said for years that faith and divine intervention are, at best, inappropriate if not impossible. It must have been like discovering that the kooky old aunt you’ve been keeping in the attic is the only one who knows where the family silver is buried.

But which is the true picture of America? Are we a secular society that merely pays lip service to faith when a crisis looms, or are we a nation of quiet faithful who allow ourselves to be cowed by society until circumstances give us a chance to break out? I know how our attackers would describe us.

Make no mistake, this is a spiritual and religious war. Those who attacked us chose as their main target what they perceived to be the symbolic spiritual center of our nation. Perhaps we need to ask why the most recognizable symbol — and target — of a country founded on Christian principles should turn out to be the World Trade Center.

My opinion, however, is that we are primarily a nation of faith even if the cultural spin obscures this. There are just too many blessings in our lives and too few fruitful external assaults on our freedom and security for it to be otherwise. Our country could not have developed the abundance we experience (or manage our enormous debt) without God’s favor and the generally well-intentioned (if unfocused) spiritual character of our people. The vicious and ungodly in-fighting of our leaders and factions in an attempt to garner power and divvy up the fruit from our foundational blessings is both sad and laughable in comparison to the desperation that much of the rest of the world lives in: we’re fleas fighting over the dog, but our biting and scratching just may drive the dog crazy (to which the dyslexic, atheistic flea shouts "there is no dog!")

But if we’re stronger spiritually than we realize, what is the meaning of the September 11 attacks?

Who, what, when, where? Those are the first things we want to know when a disaster makes the news. Close on their heels comes the question hardest to answer: Why?

That question breaks into two parts, the physical and the metaphysical. Why did the bridge fail structurally, and why were these particular people apportioned to survive, die or be injured? The first question will eventually be known to the millimeter; the second will remain fuzzy. Implicit in the second one, however, is the fear that everything is random, that there is no justice, or that justice is applied on a scale so grand that we can't calculate it; either way we are left with uncertainty as to just what measure is due us personally. The thing is, we want there to be a reason and order to things, and optimistically assume (or hope) that our own accounts will balance to the "good"; promising or justifying our own deliverance from calamity.

We easily extend our version of grace to others (as long as they're victims and not members of the opposition party), generously judging them good or innocent by the most general of categories: he was a "nice guy", she was a young mother. "Why do bad things happen to good people?" we cry. Other people, or other times, might view calamity as judgment or karmic justice.

Similarly, was it chance or God's plan that resulted in the deaths in the collapse of the 35W bridge in Minneapolis? Was it God's indifference that lead to the fall, or God's providence that the calamity was not more catastrophic? If there is such a "goodness" scale, by what measure can the survivors claim deliverance and what comfort can be given to the families of those who didn't? How can a former missionary go missing while a child abuser survives?

People didn't start asking these questions just when President Bush took office, either. In his 1927 novel, "The Bridge at San Luis Rey," Thornton Wilder tackles similar questions and circumstances in the person of Brother Juniper who tries to ascertain the central failing in the lives of five people who perish when the titular bridge falls into a chasm. (He could come to no conclusion). Going back a bit further, in John 9:2, Jesus was asked about a blind man, "Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” Whereupon he made mud and put it in the blind man's eyes and then sent him to wash in the pool of Siloam, healing his blindness. Interestingly, Siloam is mentioned again in Luke 13 when people suggest to Jesus that calamity overcame certain people as a judgment. His response: "... those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them, do you think that they were worse sinners than all other men who dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish."

Or, (excuse my jump in character but not in context), in the words of Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven, "We've all got it coming." The point being made was that no one is innocent, but each may come to the revelation of salvation by grace; by the work of God, not man.

I'm not trying to be dark. In fact, I believe that there is an order and justice in the universe even if we can't see it all at once. I believe that because, in fact, we are able to see beauty and justice from time to time. If it weren't so, all would be chaos and despair. Instead, in the midst of the refining fire of a disaster there are gleaming streaks of gold rising through all the impurities; the acts of courage, altruism and goodness in the survivors and rescuers (perhaps even unplumbed in their lives up until that point), and of a community pulling together in empathy and faith.

Bridges are aspirational; tangibly they are an example of our ability to overcome an obstacle to achieve what we want. The failure of one is not just a challenge to getting what we want, it is a repudiation of our ability to even conceive of it; the cutting of the tight rope woven of our doctrines that we walk to find our own salvation. In Mark Helprin's book "Winter's Tale" the allegorical and eternal Jackson Mead, an engineer representing either Lucifer or man (I go back and forth on this), strives to bend steel, nature and his will into casting a tremendous bridge of light to Heaven that — like our human understanding — touches the far shore for a moment and falls. Yet one of the messages of the book is that the balances are exact; and one thing cannot fall without something else rising and even more gloriously.

The 35W bridge fell in a crush of broken steel, concrete and bodies — and though the dust sought to obscure it, we could suddenly see something clearly: we are the bridges, standing in or reaching across the gap for and to one another.

Standing, always.

One day last week a co-worker on maternity leave brought her new little daughter to the office for show and tell. There's a distinctive commotion when someone brings a baby into the workplace, marked by multiple, high-pitched cooings and cluckings. It's completely different from the sound of someone bringing doughnuts, for example.

Nevertheless, I looked out over the cubicle walls anyway and saw about a dozen female heads clustered together focusing on something in the midst of them, and I figured they weren't watching a football game. I walked over in time to see the mother hand the infant off to one of her friends who, within moments, began the distinctive side-to-side rocking motion adults do when holding a child. Not only that, but within minutes the entire cluster was swaying sympathetically as well, including myself. I'm sure it's a phenomenon we're all familiar with.

I remembered this little scene again on Sunday morning at church. After we began with praise and worship there was truly a sense of the presence of God in our midst and as I stood in the moment I found myself gently swaying side to side in the exact same way I had earlier in the week, and the recognition of that kind of startled me. I looked around the room and easily two-thirds of the congregation were also quietly swaying in the same way.

Something in us or passed on to us naturally makes us adults rock to comfort a baby that's hungry, scared or has made a mess. Just as naturally, something in us or passed on to us draws us, even as adults, when we are hungry, scared or have made a mess of things. Then God takes us in his arms, and the breath of His spirit goes "Shhh-shh-shhh, it's going to be all right." And it is.

A few days ago I put up a post referencing how safe our lives have become and suggesting that we had to go looking to find things to kill us, and usually found them embedded in the things we've used to make our lives easier.

Our desire for easy and convenient kills us with useless calories, toxic drink dispensers and mutated nutrients while we celebrate progress and our exceeding cleverness. Why, to do without these fruits would be regressive, even primitive.

Morally we also like things easier, and we don't like to put the hard work in to examine ourselves and cut the slack out of our lives, thinking that as long as everything "looks good" then we must not be too bad. We certainly don't want to be bothered with the work of taking a stand in the hopes of changing others (unless we're one of those who can't wait to change everyone but themselves), so we watch that video, play that game, revel in those lyrics. Why, to do without our rationalizations, to be willing to say something is actually evil, would be regressive, even primitive.

It's far easier to act as if the "science" of our morality has all been settled, that evil has been driven from our land along with the wild, man-eating animals, leaving us this convenient, easy life where we assume everyone's just naturally got it all figured out and evil is merely a quaint concept to be manipulated for power and ratings, or to describe how someone else votes. Or else a venial sin is blown up into a huge paper dragon so that certain warriors can similarly puff themselves up to do battle with it. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

And then someone shoots up a school, pours acid on a playground slide or opportunistically twists another person's name and reputation for personal gain on a national stage and we gape in horror and wonder how anyone could do such a thing even though it happens in one form or another every day. Meanwhile, the TV networks that won't show a fan running out onto an athletic field because it gives the yahoo the exposure he's looking for and only encourages others, trip all over each other to broadcast the addled rantings of a self-absorbed maniac.

A friend who is a carpenter recently opined, after touring several million-dollar homes, how disappointing the workmanship was in these beautiful and expensive abodes. Things certainly looked nice, but to a practiced eye the mistakes and cover-ups for the mistakes were jarring. Something might look right, but if it's not properly squared up it's eventually going to sag and crumble, no matter how expensive and modern it is.

I can't imagine the architect is too pleased.

One of the songs we sang in church on Easter Sunday had these words:

I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross.

We've sung that song a few times before and each time I usually think to myself that I do know how much it cost to redeem my sin — it "cost" Jesus having to come to earth in human form, being beaten, crucified, dying and rising again. Yesterday, however, it really sunk in for me that there is a difference between "knowing" and "experiencing". Or, to put it in the words that occurred to me, it's the difference between receiving a check for $1 million and writing a check for $1 million.

That's not to say that most of us haven't tried to write out our own check for our salvation, either out of our man-made doctrines or new age spirituality, or based on our "good works". Inherent in all of those thoughts is that deep down we assume we're not "that bad" (even "good"), so how big a check are we really talking about? The thing is, there is no check that we can write ourselves that would pay that debt, even on an installment plan. That's because we all fell for the marketing incentives and opened our accounts at the First Bank of Hell (hey, I got a free toaster!), and those checks are always going to bounce. They'll come back stamped NSF — Insufficient Faith. And man, those penalty charges eat you up.

Nor do I get any closer by taking that revelation and thinking that I'm a worm, a worthless sinner (especially if done with an all-too-human sense of pride at my humility). True, on my own that is what I'd be, but Jesus looked at the value and decided I was worth it. I don't know which revelation makes me weep more.

It is a gift that I can't explain, rationalize or justify; all I can do is either accept it or waste it. There were many over the weekend who tipped their hats to the "message of Jesus" without realizing the sacrifice he made. There were the ones, even in Christian leadership, willing to call him "Teacher" but not "Lord". I know; I've been there, done that myself. As C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity (and KingDavid reminded me):

A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic--on the level with a man who says he is a poached egg--or he would be the devil of hell. You must take your choice. Either this was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that [alternative] open to us

Filings is an ongoing section of this blog where the posts focus specifically on issues of Christian life. The name comes about because “filings” are the natural by-product of Proverbs 27:17: