Bread and Sham

Here’s a diversion from my standard post. I came across a video that I thought was worth sharing. It’s amusing to people who like to both laugh and think about ourselves and our life.

Isn’t it interesting:

That man universally has the notion of “ought” such as “I know what ought to be the case?”

However, it is not politically correct to say that the “ought” must be anchored to something objective just because it is universally understood. For example, we may not all agree on the sentencing for all crimes, but we all seem to agree on which crimes are heinous and deserving of a sentence.

And we do not say that because something “is” therefore it “ought”–naturalistic fallacy. [For example, so and so always gets arrested for shooting so and so, therefore, he "ought" to get arrested for shooting.] What we say instead is that something “ought” to exist in a certain way. In an ordered world, for someone or something to behave differently than it “ought” it is wrong. It is saying that because someone has done what was against what they ought to, they are wrong. Or said differently, what is “good” or “right” has been other than what it was supposed to be (or “ought” to be) and was replaced with “not good” or wrong.

I find it interesting that there isn’t just something missing, but that we all sense that there is something missing where something is suppose to be–that where something that seems right is missing, it is filled with a less good alternative–that where good is suppose to exist, evil does. Said a little less offensively, that where charity ought to be, selfishness exists.

“Moral” Definition 1): of, pertaining to, or concerned with the principles or rules of right conduct or the distinction between right and wrong; ethical: moral attitudes.

“Moral” Definition 2): founded on the fundamental principles of right conduct rather than on legalities, enactment, or custom: moral obligations.

Juddgment: the ability to judge, make a decision, or form an opinion objectively, authoritatively, and wisely, esp. in matters affecting action; good sense; discretion: a man of sound judgment.

Dictionary.com. Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/judgment (accessed: July 01, 2008).

The real hero is the person who does what is right with right motive (regardless of whether society affirms him or not). He is not a hero for doing what he wants. Nor is he a hero for doing what others want of him.
It is difficult, thankless, and lonely to be right. This message is for all of you heroes–ordinary people who recognize that we are accountable to more than ourselves and each other.

Click here to read my critique of Harris’ argument against the existence of God.

Can a philosopher, who attempts to grasp the edges of the infinite that he inhabits find anyone else out there? Although he does not explore the fringe that he might find another person—but so that he might find himself; or God—more of himself in the light of God—what a lonely place.

Instead, he finds that he is numb to the things of himself when he is confronted with the things of the Infinite. Standing there in silence is to be truly alone. Trying to bring others to this place is impossible. Wanting of this is frustration. It is all born out of the need to share. But what are we sharing except what we have been invited to see? All of this was the work of God and not of me. All of this was one grand set up. I’ve been set up not to stand, but to lie down between the man who attempts to stand and the God who indulges him in his fantasy.

Click here to read the entire post.

I have a buddy named James who is very good at doing close up magic. He’s particularly good with this one sleight-of-hand card trick that starts by asking the naïve foil to pick a single card from the 52 and sign his or her name on it with a black sharpie. He proceeds to lose that person’s card into the deck and attempt to find it again. After shuffling, dicing, and chopping, he breaks the deck at some arbitrary place in the center and reveals a card.

Is this it?

No.

Is this it?

No.

Hmm . . .

More drama . . . James turns the deck, looking at their faces, and riffles through it as though he knew where it was, but suddenly, it wasn’t where it was suppose to be.

This one?

Nope.

Although we have completely lost sight of the card, we understand that somehow, he has not. If he’s entertaining a particularly naïve individual, they may give a nervous chuckle, such as to empathize with the embarrassment of the magician whose trick is fumbling.

To be brief, the foil seems more amused that concerned with the whole process: is he wearing long sleeves, etc. The way it ends is that ultimately the card is folded into fourths and although he’s holding both of your hands with both of his hands, the card you’ve signed your name onto comes slipping out of his mouth from between his lips quite dramatically.

Usually, however, we are not so deceived by the game so as to think that he has truly lost the card. We remain quite sure, although skeptical of how it will end, that he will in fact find our card. Still, quite often we forget that the trick is on us, and we entertain it such that we always want to see another one.

It’s season finale time on television and it rivets many of us at the same time it torments us. We remember, year after year, that the writers will never fail to leave us on a cliffhanger. If all of the loose ends were resolved, we’d lose our sense of wonder and intrigue. Although we understand that throughout the whole season, the writers are fully cognoscente of the outcome (eventually), and yet we will be left to our stupor for months.

What’s the worst thing to have come from the recent writer’s strike? Read more.

I often feel safer delivering truth in love to a non-believer. Possibly my foreign message would find more audience within the foreign land, where to them, I am neither instantly welcomed nor instantly perceived as a threat. They may ultimately despise the message, but not until having given audience to it.

Maybe the barbarian culture has every bit as much conviction as the apostle, but one that is forged by trial and testing, rather than that of an untried theory. This means that attitudes of an open mind and a welcoming sense of danger are more likely to lie with those outside of the city. They are not protecting a kingdom. They are exploring one. They are seeking truth for themselves from whatever source they can find it. Therefore, the message of truth in love, albeit foreign and dangerous is worth trying, if a messenger as unique and caring as Christ were to present it.

Yet, ultimately, some will cast him off, challenge him, and even kill him. So it is with me. But in what ways, by some trickery of the enemy, have I been the guard at the entrance to the castle—the one who is killing the messenger?

[end]

If you are interested in reading the entire article, please click here.

The former Sheriff, Ed Tom Bell, stares out to the fields through his kitchen window in the closing scene. He has just retired and speaks to his wife of two dreams that he had last night. Both dreams include his father. His father had apparently died young, and so any memory of him comes from the son who himself is an old man comparatively speaking, having outlived his father by 20 years or so.

In the first, he was given some money and he was suppose to meet up with his father downtown. The implication he makes is that the reunion never took place because he may have lost the money.

In the second dream, he and his father were riding horses through a valley on a cold winter night. It was dark and late and while the son was in the valley, he saw his dad ride past him and continue on ahead. It was clear that the dad was carrying fire in a horn. He could see the color of the fire, like the color of the moon. His dad didn’t say anything as he rode past. The son understood that his father was going to ride ahead of him, and soon, after the son journeyed on alone, he would meet up with his dad and he would have a warm fire prepared when he arrived. He continues riding on that cold night anticipating the place where they would stop and rest . . . but, the son reminisced, . . . he woke up.
Read the rest of the post

Recently, I’ve been reading about some counter-cultural people. They saw little to no difference between their temporal and eternal identity as a Christian. There was little tension between them as heaven-bound, while they lived lives that were also tethered into their place historically here on earth as a Christian.

“Christian” was more than a mere name indicating what faith they chose. “Christian” was more than a label they hung about their necks, it was the life of crucifixion. They lived lives as though not for themselves, but the lives of someone else–everyone else. It may be seen as a religion. But all in all, it was not religion in the sense of what one does, what one believes, or where one fellowships on the weekend. It was a public declaration by their witness, verbally and otherwise, that their lives were not their own.

Regardless of what they said of themselves, or the name of a particular club, group, family, rank, social class, school, occupation, vocation, or position, or payer on their paycheck, they were seen as Christians. It didn’t matter what others said of them or they of themselves. They were lights that anyone could see. They were a city on a hill. They could not be missed.

They are distinguished as light-bearers and name-bearers for Christ by the way they lived for a purpose not their own. They didn’t see their lives as their own. Therefore their actions were not determined by their natural lusts. They didn’t see their families, possessions, or places in society as their own. Their identity was not gone altogether, but it was changed. It was no longer Paul who was living, but Christ in him–at work in him (Gal. 2:20).

They are individuals who were not preoccupied with success, monetary gain, power, position, pleasure, or selfish ambition. Their motives were not those of self. Who are these people?

What makes them tick?

Why would someone give up momentary comfort for inconvenience, struggle, illness, persecution, unpopularity, mockery, and public disgrace?

Paul was the first one mentioned. He really doesn’t give a crap what anyone in his culture thought of him. He was a murderer of Christians, turned Christian. He didn’t convert as much as God arrested him. He didn’t change his mind, his mind was opened. He didn’t change address, he was an alien with no place on this planet to rest. He did not go on a short-term missions trip, his life became entirely missional. He didn’t take a job at church, he became the church.

Who else would lay their life down for their friend? A Christian would because he would not see his life as his own–he understands that he doesn’t have anything that wasn’t given to him.

Sanctus, too, has a new and radical identity. He was more than a mere convert to an illegal cult. He gained a new identity, which in his culture, meant that he would be killed. The cost was one life for one life — one short-term life of lie and deceit, for one eternal life of truth and purity. He knew that if he was no longer merely Sanctus, but a Christian, that he was going to be martyred. “What is your name?” the prosecuting interrogators questioned. I am Christian, was his reply. “What is your name?” Again, “I am Christian.” A third time, would mean a swift and violent death. “What is your name?” A third time, “I am Christian.” Then, the Roman guards fed Sanctus to wild animals amidst a coliseum full of witnesses.

Who else would lay down for Christ? St. Augustine would because he recognized that he was totally incapable of living if it were not for God’s grace. His life was not his. It never was. Anyone who held that belief was deceived.

Later, we find that John Calvin had a radical identity. His life was on fire. He couldn’t be slowed down. John was a workaholic for the ministry. He was a missionary, a minister, a disciple, a marriage and family counselor, a political and religious pillar. He was viewed as a heretic because he read God’s Word in its original languages and it was understood that the church could not offer salvation or forgiveness of sins. His faith said that man is incapable of recognizing one’s need for grace, seeking after it, atoning for his own sin, and remaining in the faith without Sovereign help from God. Belief that an exercise of one’s will beyond the work of Grace is the sin of pride. It is the elevation of man’s nature to that of less than totally depraved. It is this same sin that banished Lucifer from heaven, and the same sin that he uses to tempt Eve and the 2nd Adam, Christ himself. (To have more power, stuff, ability, knowledge, less pain, less struggle, more of life outside of God’s way.)

Jonathan Edwards comes along and shows us that his identity as a Christian is the only way to enjoy God and to live the life that we were designed to live. We are hid in him. We are founded in him. He is our identity. When we take in a breath of air into our lungs, we give praise, for the air and the pair of lungs are both given to us by a loving and merciful God. When we examine grace, the cosmos, from the grandest heavenly bodies to the minutiae of micro biology, we are beholding the very invisible attributes of a Sovereign Lord.

“Life is for rent, and nothing I have it truly mine.” Dido

I want to end this post with one expression. This culture cannot redeem me. I do not seek it’s approval or applause, nor will anyone who does ever find it.

Spurgeon once said, “What the Arminian wants to do is to arouse man’s activity: what we want to do is to kill it once for all—to show him that he is lost and ruined, and that his activities are not now at all equal to the work of conversion; that he must look upward. They seek to make the man stand up: we seek to bring him down, and make him feel that there he lies in the hand of God, and that his business is to submit himself to God, and cry aloud, ‘Lord, save, or we perish.’ We hold that man is never so near grace as when he begins to feel he can do nothing at all. When he says, ‘I can pray, I can believe, I can do this, and I can do the other,’ marks of self-sufficiency and arrogance are on his brow.”
- C. H. Spurgeon

A tragic and popular misconception exists in our pluralistic minds!

Which is more difficult to understand?

God is fully sovereign (monergism).

or

God shares His sovereignty with man (synergism).

For over a year, I have been wrestling with and considering my role in my life and the lives of those around me: challenging motive, human nature, thinking, and good works. In essence, why am I doing what I am doing? Is it all only for myself?!

I question the existence of altruism. (Albert Camus) Is there any truly selfless act?

I look closely at the fruit of “alien”, imparted righteousness against the black backdrop of self or depravity. (Jonathan Edwards)

What is the role of prayer, evangelism, and social justice if God is fully sovereign?

The conclusion that I seem to be arriving at is that Sovereignty is like energy. There is a fixed amount of it. Either it is spread out or unshared, but it cannot be both. It is either all being possessed by God, or it is partly possessed by God and partly by creatures of His design–what Erasmus and Melanchthon discuss as God + Man = Salvation?

So, if God is not sharing sovereignty with man, what is a proper way to understand the presence of goodness within man?

When we accomplish anything good, we crave the praise for it. When a friend shows me a kind act, I believe them to be a “good person.” (Many eulogies nauseate me). When a person shows me goodness, it helps me better understand the Heavenly Father. I have the choice to acknowledge the origin of that understanding as belonging to them or to God.

So, for prayer, missional evangelism, good works, etc. I can recognize something good within myself as the source, or I can go back to the fountain–back to the original source and agree with God that every perfect gift comes from the Father of Light (James 1:17).

So, one question yet remains: Why do I crave glory, or impart it where it does not belong? I cannot save you or myself, so how can I boast? I cannot love you or myself, so how can anyone be saved? I am incapable of selfless love (in my nature), so how can anyone show me selfless love (in their nature)? I am incapable of knowing God or my need for Him since my rationality and will are damaged by sin. This seems to lead to a world where no love and altruism exist.

BUT I do believe that there is something GOOD at work in me and the lives of others that are around me who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). I can then, through His work of Sovereignty through me, be an agent of love toward someone, be impartial, or selfless and altruistic. Therefore, the answer that I seem to be arriving at is this: God does share something with His creation. If He does not share His eternal Sovereignty with His creation, but His plan does involve people, then, I am a passive recipient of His regeneration.

He is going to accomplish His will through the obedience of believers who are in the posture of service. Instead of seeing salvation or love as the good work of a redeemed individual, it is the good work of Christ imparted to those who recognize him.

We do not receive any of God’s sovereignty, therefore, we don’t deserve any of His praise (Eph. 2:8-9). We do, however, receive His righteousness passively, and therefore, He reserves all access to the praise. It is a righteousness FROM God (Rom. 1:16-17), of supernatural origin, taught by the Spirit, interpreted and understood supernaturally (I Cor. 2).

Conclusion: All good that resides within any creation of God is alien to and imparted to mankind from someplace outside of himself.

For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Eph. 2:10

Paul said “For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not.” (Romans 7:18).  Jesus said in Mark 10:18 no one is good but God alone. Paul was addressing the true understanding that no one is righteous of his or her own deeds or nature, but it comes through faith in Christ. (Romans 3:21-4:5)