Church Write-Up: Easter 2017

I went to two church services on Easter Sunday.  The first was the 8:30 am traditional service at a Missouri Synod Lutheran church.  The second was a United Methodist church service.

Here are some of my thoughts:

A.  I was expecting the 8:30 am traditional Lutheran service to consist mostly of elderly people, and for most of the people to be dressed up.  I also was not expecting too many people to be there, as I assumed that the 11:00 am contemporary service was what drew the crowds.  But the traditional service had a full house.  Most of the people there were elderly and middle-aged, but there were some young people.  And many people were not dressed up.  Some were, but the men who were not wearing a suit and tie wore khaki pants with their shirts tucked in.  (I don't recall if anyone wore jeans.)  I'll treat that as the dress code the next time I visit!

B.  I was unclear about what exactly to do during the communion part of the service.  Missouri Synod Lutherans serve closed communion, which means that not everyone can participate.  I read one Missouri Synod site, and it said the people who want to partake of communion should see the pastor beforehand so that he can know about them and their faith.  Our church bulletin said that, if we don't participate, we can go up anyway, cross our arms, and receive a blessing from the pastor.  I was not sure how exactly that worked, and I didn't want to do it wrong, so I stayed in my pew.  I was sitting near the back corner of the sanctuary, so I didn't expect any awkwardness.  I was quietly reading my bulletin, and an usher said, "Excuse me."  I looked up, he wanted to know if I was going up, and I just shook my head and said "No thank you."

C.  The pastor's sermon was about not being afraid.  There were two parts of his sermon that especially stood out to me.  First, the pastor was talking about the "nones," those who do not have a religion.  The pastor wondered what they were doing that Easter morning.  The pastor speculated that they were trying to get the most out of their day, dealing with the joys and trials of life, perhaps realizing somewhere in their minds that they would one day die.  The pastor's question struck me as rather odd, as if it was treating the "nones" as some mysterious other.  "Does he know any nones?", I wondered.  Perhaps he was raised in the Christian faith and thus had limited familiarity with non-believers.  I am only speculating here!

Second, the pastor was telling about a woman with a severe anxiety disorder who challenged him after he preached a sermon against fear.  She thought that his sermon was making matters worse for her!  She could not help that she was afraid!  My ears perked up when the pastor said this, since I myself deal with fear, especially social anxiety.  The pastor said that he told her a story about a young man with anxiety, who got up before the congregation and told them that his anxiety would not keep him from proclaiming his Savior.  Speaking for myself, I am more fearful of interpersonal socializing than I am of getting up in front of a congregation, so I wonder how what the pastor said would fit my own situation.  Still, I can appreciate his point, on some level: it's good to have someone or something that is beyond my fear, which I can grasp.

D.  I visited the United Methodist church about a year ago, after I moved to this area.  I was not expecting to be remembered after that long a time, but I walked into the church last Sunday and an older gentleman handed me a bulletin and said, "Did you have a good year?"  I said, "Thank you, sir," which was probably a bit off-putting, but what he had said to me only registered with me after I had taken my seat.  He remembered me from the last time I visited!

The pastor looked a lot different from how she looked the last time I had seen her.  And I mean that I could not even tell that she was the same person, except for her voice!  I looked up at the stage and wondered where the pastor was!  She was thinner, her hair was longer and grayer, and she was wearing a long dress rather than her pastoral robe.

E.  The pastor was preaching about the different reactions to Jesus' resurrection in the Gospels.  The disciple Jesus loved (whom she assumed was John) saw the empty tomb and believed easily.  Peter was confused.  Mary Magdalene wondered where Jesus' body was.

The pastor said that, at that service, there are as many reactions to Jesus' resurrection as there are people there.  And she acknowledged that believing in Jesus' resurrection could be difficult, since, in our experience, the dead remain dead.  That goes with people, and it goes with pets.  She asked us to consider what our response is to Jesus' resurrection, and, maybe this coming week, we can try to have a little more faith.

I liked the openness of that sermon.  I have inside of myself different reactions to Jesus' resurrection, positive and negative.  It can be used to support Christian exclusivism, which says that non-believers go to hell, and that frightens me.  But I appreciate the story itself: the disciples were saddened by Jesus' death, both because they lost their friend, teacher, and Messiah, and also because it looked as if evil and corruption had won out.  But it didn't, for Jesus rose.

Mother's Day at a Presbyterian Church

Last Sunday, I visited a Presbyterian church.

It was Mother’s Day, so the pastor gave people in the audience the microphone so they could share thoughts about their mothers.  A young man talked about how his mother taught him not to have credit card debt, and he benefited from that teaching.  An old lady talked about how her mother taught her to love people, and she said that she was still sad that she lost her mother at an early age.  Another lady, the church secretary, talked about how her step-mother accepted her years back.  Someone else talked about how his family would move a lot when he was younger, yet his mother made sure that they knew the value of education and graduating, wherever they moved.

The pastor also talked about his own mother.  He told a story about when he was little, and he was watching his mother iron.  He really thought ironing was cool, so he asked his mom if he could try.  His mom let him iron the sheets, while she watched him doing so.  The pastor also talked about when he was rebellious, and his mother loved him even then.

In the sermon, the pastor was continuing to preach through the Book of Acts.  He discussed Acts 2:42, which states that the early Christians devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching.  In light of Mother’s Day, he introduced us to that topic by referring to Proverbs 1:8 and 6:20, which exhorts people to forsake not the torah of their mother.  The pastor said that torah, in the Hebrew, means teaching.  The pastor referred to the teaching that people in the congregation received from their mothers, which they had talked about earlier in the service.  The pastor also discussed how the teaching in the Bible is corrective.

After the sermon, someone from the congregation was making an announcement.  He was talking about the church’s coming service project.  He mentioned someone who said that he especially felt God when he was doing service work.

I’ll stop here.  Today, I’m in more of a descriptive mood than an analytical mood.

Scattered Ramblings on New Year's Day

Many people see New Year’s Day as a time of hope and new beginnings.  We may have had a bad year, and we hope for a better one.  Or we may simply hope for a better year, even if the previous year was not particularly horrible.

But we do this every year, year after year after year.  That can easily lead some to ask questions: “Are our hopes for the new year truly justified?  How do we know that this coming year will not be like the previous year?”

I suppose that having a good year, or a year of turnaround or breakthrough, is not unheard of.  I can envision people saying, for instance: “Last year, I did not have a job; now I do.”  “Last year, I was not a published author; now I am.”  That new job or new book may not bring a person paradise.  It may present challenges of its own.  And the challenges of day-to-day life will remain.  Still, it is a step up.

I think that it is good to hope.  We cannot make demands of God, but we can share with God our dreams.  I think of a scene in Lynn Austin’s  A Candle in the Darkness.  The novel is set during the American Civil War.  The protagonist, Caroline, is having Christmas dinner with some slaves.  Each person takes a turn sharing his or her dream, so that they can know what to pray for each other about.  Caroline wants to be a teacher.  Eli wants to be a pastor.  Another slave wants to work in shipping with his master, see the world, and get married.  Eli then prays that their dreams might be God’s will.  That is my hope, for myself and others: “May your dream be God’s will.”

Maybe this year will be just another year.  Whatever it brings, it can be a time of growth, even for those whose dreams are not fulfilled.  Life presents us with opportunities to do things better, even if what goes on in our lives is not better.  I am not necessarily talking about making New Year’s resolutions that one will likely break.  I myself do not make New Year’s resolutions.  Still, I respect that many people do so as part of their vision for a new beginning.  New Year’s Day is a good day for that.

The concept of newness appears often in the Bible: receiving a new start after being forgiven, becoming a new person after being born again, a new creation, receiving a new way of looking at the world, God making a new heavens and a new earth.  Many of us desire what is new.  Maybe we are bored with the old, or look to the new to spice up our lives, or desire a change of scene.  One could say that the new can become old, and what then?  Will we become bored with the new?  That often happens.  In the case of the Christian life, however, there is always room for improvement.  There are always areas in which the new can replace the old.  And I believe, with John Wesley, that, even when we arrive at perfection, we will continually grow and learn new ways to love God and neighbor, new dimensions and insights into what that means and entails.

Why hope, when we do not really know if there is a basis for hope?  I like what Romans 4:18 says: Abraham hoped against hope that his barren wife Sarah would have a son.  Abraham is not entirely in the same position that many of us are.  Abraham had a direct and an explicit promise from God.  Many of us do not quite have that.  Still, we have a God who loves us.  Should that not give us hope?

Happy New Year!

Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh

In Matthew 2, magi from the east present the child Jesus with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Why did they give Jesus those particular gifts?

Here are three items.  The first two items draw from Tim Widowfield’s post on Vridar, “Why Did Matthew’s Nativity Story Have References to Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh?” The third item is from my reading of the fifth-ninth century C.E. Christian work, “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan.”

A.  Matthew 2 could be alluding to Isaiah 60:6, which states: “The multitude of camels shall cover thee, the dromedaries of Midian and Ephah; all they from Sheba shall come: they shall bring gold and incense; and they shall shew forth the praises of the LORD” (KJV).

Isaiah 60:6 is about what will occur after God glorifies Israel: Gentiles will bring Israel gold and incense.  According to biblical scholar John Nolland, Matthew’s allusion to Isaiah 60:6 depicts “Israel being glorified in the person of the messiah by the wealth of the nations” (page 117 of Nolland’s 2005 book, The Gospel of Matthew).

There are various things to consider:

First, Isaiah 60:6 is part of Third Isaiah, which may not even have Messianism.  At least I agree with biblical scholar Paul Hanson that it does not, for the idea of a Davidic king is absent from Third Isaiah.  At the same time, Matthew most likely was unaware of the different ideologies within the Book of Isaiah.  Matthew could have interpreted Isaiah 60:6 messianically, even if that was contrary to Third Isaiah’s ideology.

Second, were Midian, Ephah, and Sheba located east of Israel, which is where the magi were from?  Sheba was probably located to the south of Israel.  Midianites could have been located southeast of Israel, however, in southern Transjordan (Numbers 22; 25; 31; I Kings 11:18).

Third, were there magi in Midian?  Well, the sorcerer Balaam in the Book of Numbers served the Midianites, who were mixed with the Moabites.  Could Matthew 2 be positing a reversal of the Balaam story: magicians from the east are not trying to subvert Israel, as Balaam did, but are honoring her Messiah with gifts?  Perhaps.  Yet, the first century Jewish philosopher Philo praises magi who were in Persia (Special Laws 3.100-101; Every Good Man Is Free 74).  Not surprisingly, many have maintained that the magi who visited Jesus (in real life, in the story, or in both) were from Persia.

B.  Tim Widowfield’s post on Vridar draws from controversial scholar Margaret Barker’s book, Christmas, the Original Story.  Barker maintains that the magi’s gifts relate to the anointing of the Messiah and the eschatological Temple.  Myrrh was used for anointing.  Frankincense was used in the worship at the Tabernacle (Exodus 30:34).  Josephus in Antiquities 8:4 states that a lot of incense was burned when Solomon was consecrating his Temple.  There were Jewish traditions about the Messiah building a new Temple, different from the inadequate and (according to some) corrupt Second Temple.  Could the magi’s gifts relate to that?

C.  Gold, frankincense, and myrrh feature prominently in “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan.”  They are present in Book I, Chapters 30-31, and Book II, Chapter 8, verses 17-19.
Adam and Eve are trying to adjust to their rough life after they have been exiled from the Garden of Eden.  God gives them incense and myrrh from the Garden of Eden, and golden rods from the Indian sea, to comfort them.

Adam at first does not find these gifts too comforting.  He thinks that they serve to remind him of the glory that he lost in Eden: that the gold symbolizes the Kingdom of God in the Garden, the incense recalls the bright light that was once a part of Adam’s nature, and the myrrh concerns Adam’s present sorrow.
God, however, tells Adam that these gifts are intended to comfort him, both symbolically and functionally.  God says that kings will bring God these gifts when God comes in the flesh.  The gold represents God’s kingdom.  The incense represents Christ’s divinity.  The myrrh is a token of Christ’s suffering and death, which will save humanity, including Adam.

The gifts also have a practical function.  The gold is a sort of nightlight for Adam and Eve when they sleep in the cave at night.  Adam and Eve are having difficulty becoming accustomed to the darkness of night, especially after leaving Eden, a place where there is no night.  The incense provides a sweet smell, and the myrrh can comfort Adam and Eve in their sorrow.  Adam and Eve place these gifts around their cave, which is their home, a place of prayer, and, eventually, a place of burial for the righteous.

Later, Adam on his deathbed is exhorting his righteous son, Seth.  Adam instructs Seth to preserve the gold, incense, and myrrh, for they are a sign from God.  They symbolize the same things that God told Adam earlier, but Adam also presents an alternative symbolism: the gold symbolizes Christ’s defeat of Satan; the incense symbolizes Christ’s resurrection and exaltation above all things; and the myrrh symbolizes the bitter gall that Christ will drink as well as the torment that Christ will suffer in hell from Satan.

Adam says that the gifts are to be taken aboard the Ark during the Flood, along with Adam’s corpse, and they are to be buried with Adam.  A long time afterwards, Israel will be conquered and spoiled, and these gifts will be taken to another land.  These gifts will last for centuries, until kings will bring them to the Christ child.  The idea seems to be that this gold, incense, and myrrh end up in Persia after Israel is exiled, and the Persian magi later bring them to the child Jesus.

How do these items symbolize what they symbolize?  Gold probably had royal associations, so that could be why it symbolized God’s kingdom.  Incense may have symbolized Christ’s divinity in the sense that incense is sweet, and Christ’s divinity sweetened his humanity.  It may have symbolized Christ’s resurrection because the sweet smell of incense rises, as Christ rose to heaven.  Christ, according to many Christians, was a sweet offering to God: Christ righteously obeyed God and pleased God in so doing, and Christ’s sacrifice was an atonement for sinners that God accepted.  The myrrh may have symbolized Christ’s passion because of its bitter taste; at the same time, Christ on the cross refused to drink wine mingled with myrrh, which could have alleviated his pain (Mark 15:23).  Perhaps the myrrh in “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” recalled that scene at the passion.

Merry Christmas, for those who celebrate it.  For those who do not, have a good day.

Movie Write-Up: Christmas with a Capital C

Christmas with a Capital C is a 2010 Christian movie produced by Pure Flix Entertainment.  It was on TBN last night.

The movie is about a lawyer, Mitch Bright (played by Baldwin brother Daniel Baldwin), who returns to his hometown of Trapper Falls, Alaska.  Mitch and the mayor of the town, Dan Reed, were rivals when they were growing up.  The competed about everything—-sports, clubs, and Kristen (played by Nancy Stafford of Matlock), who would become Dan’s wife.

Mitch is an atheist, and he legally challenges the town’s display of a nativity scene on public property.  He also encourages local businesses to say “Happy Holidays” and “Seasons Greetings” rather than “Merry Christmas.”  Mitch decides to run against Dan for the mayor’s office.  Dan wonders why Mitch has returned after all these years, and why he is launching a war on Christmas.

You may be thinking to yourself that this is a typical Christian movie about the Christmas wars: oh, woe are we Christians, for we are persecuted because people wish us “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas,” and we can’t display our nativity scene on publicly-owned property, even though we are allowed to display it on our church’s lawn!  And, yes, the movie did have some of that Christian conservative rhetoric.  It particularly came from Dan’s brother Greg, who is played by conservative comedian Brad Stine.

But the movie was not your typical Christian movie about the Christmas wars or the separation of church and state, for three reasons.

First of all, there was some recognition on the movie’s part about legal nuances in Establishment Clause cases.  The law allows Christians to display nativity scenes, as long as it is not on taxpayer-supported property.  Under the prevalent interpretation of the Establishment Clause, the government cannot promote a particular religion, but private individuals and groups can.

Second, there was some acknowledgment in the movie that this is all right.  After all, Jesus is still Lord, and Christmas is still about him, whether or not there is a nativity scene on the public lawn.  Kristen and the pastor propose that Christians in the town make Christmas about love and service rather than making a big stink about an atheist taking away their “rights.”  The movie alternates between this meeting and Greg telling the Christmas story to his niece, nephew, and his nephew’s girlfriend: Israel expected a political messiah, but Jesus would be a messiah who would show love one person at a time.

Third, the atheist is not exactly demonized.  Mitch thinks he is too sophisticated for Christianity and is upset at the hypocrisy and smug attitude of Christians he has known.  He is also lonely, has no family, and has had financial setbacks, notwithstanding the prosperous image he tries to project.  Mitch has also helped people in the past.  Granted, a Christian movie will depict the atheist as deficient, in some sense, but this movie’s portrayal was not entirely negative.

The movie was still cheesy.  The singing was bad.  The dialogue was predictable, in places.  Greg came across to me as a Robin Williams wannabe, as endearing as his character was.  And, yes, the movie has been compared to How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  Still, for a Christian movie about the Christmas wars, it was refreshing to watch.

Giving Thanks, Without Being Perfunctory

During my prayer time last night, the subject of thanksgiving entered my mind because, well, it is Thanksgiving!  Philippians 4:6 came to my mind: “Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God” (KJV).

There are many verses that I have read in the Bible.  Some have been impressed in my mind.  Some, not so much!  I first came to appreciate this verse when I read John MacArthur’s book, Anxiety Attacked, back when I was in high school.  I read that book a couple of times.  I read it once, then I reread it during the final exam period, a time when I was particularly anxious.  John MacArthur had a chapter in that book about Philippians 4:6.

But the years passed, and I have not thought about that verse that often since then—-maybe sporadically.  But I thought about it last night.  And what I thought was this: I spend a lot of my prayer time making requests to God.  That is not all that I do, of course, for I read something devotional: the Bible, the pseudepigrapha, and currently the “Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan.”  But requests are a significant part of my prayer time.  I pray for others first, one reason being that I care for the people I pray for and want to see good in their lives, and another reason being that I want to cultivate compassion within myself.  Then I pray for my own needs and desires: help me to get paying employment so that eventually I can pay off my student loans, help my blog to do better, help me to have more peace in social situations, fill me with your Holy Spirit, help me to make progress on my dissertation, help me to move on from past hurts.

I make these requests, and I do not think that is a bad thing.  This is a broken world, after all.  I am broken.  Others are broken, looking for a breakthrough, or at least peace.  Life is broken.  I would be wrong to refrain from praying for things, for that would imply that everything is all right.  It’s not.

But, unfortunately, I rarely make these requests with thanksgiving.  It’s not that I never give thanks.  It’s just pretty sporadic.  I thank God for the good that happens in the lives of others: when someone fears that she has cancer and learns that she does not, I give God thanks.  Yes, bad things happen to people in this life, but it is good to be happy about the good things that happen in people’s lives.  I also thank God for some of the joys or conveniences that I experience: that movie, TV show, or book that really moved me or made me think; that resource that I found for my dissertation (and, believe me, resources are not always easy to find!).

But I think that I should make thanksgiving a regular part of my daily prayer time.  But I want to do this without being perfunctory.  I don’t like having a long list of obligatory things that I have to say when I am praying.  I get to the point where I am not feeling what I am praying.  Currently, I have my standard list of people I pray for each day, and I keep that pretty standard: I rarely add to it.  But there is also a part of my prayer time in which I pray for people who are not part of my standard list—-people who come to mind at that moment.  That can vary by the day.  I find this approach more authentic than feeling as if I have to pray through the phone book.

I can do something similar with thanksgiving.  I can set aside a part of my prayer time in which I mention something that I am thankful for.  I don’t have to go through a laundry list, but I can mention something, and maybe more than one thing.  It can pertain to myself, or to something good that is happening in the life of someone else.  There is a lot to be thankful for: people who have helped me, our cats, and the list goes on.

I spend a lot of time complaining and griping about life.  That probably won’t change.  I believe that I have things to complain about!  I might as well not pretend otherwise, though I generally will try not to burden my readers with that (which is not a promise, but just a policy I may follow).  But I should spend more time than I do being thankful.

2015 Easter Ramblings

For Easter Sunday, I went to church this morning.  Actually, I go to church every Sunday, but there were more people at church this morning because it is Easter.

My pastor preached about the folded napkin, or burial cloth, that was in Jesus’ empty tomb, according to John 20:7.  I was expecting my pastor to go in a certain direction with that point, but he did not.  I’ve heard some pastors make a big deal about the napkin being folded, and they refer to an alleged ancient Near Eastern custom that a person folding a napkin at dinner indicated that he was not finished yet; similarly, their reasoning went, Jesus is not done yet, for Jesus will come back.

I remember years ago visiting another church where the preacher on Easter Sunday was making that particular napkin point, and then I came home from church and visited my Christian dating site, and someone there was continually ridiculing it; someone had posted that napkin point.  I was somewhat hoping that my pastor would not make that napkin point this morning, since I had already boxed up and sealed for packing my Intervarsity Press Bible Background Commentary for the New Testament, and thus I was limited in my ability to fact-check; I suppose that I could use google, though.

In any case, I was making other associations in my mind with John 20:7’s reference to the folded napkin.  Years ago, I read a Nicholas Spark’s book, A Bend in the Road.  In this novel, a widowed sheriff was dating an attractive schoolteacher, and he learns later that the schoolteacher’s shy brother was actually the one who killed his (the sheriff’s) wife and child in an automobile accident.  Before the sheriff learns that, however, he remembers that a blanket was covering his wife and child at the scene of the accident.  The person who caused the accident must not have been too horrible a person, the sheriff reasoned, for he had taken the time to cover up his victims.

How was I associating that with John 20:7?  Because, in both, one could tell something about a person’s character by what that person left behind.  Suppose that Jesus’ body had been stolen by robbers or people who wanted to abuse the body to gloat about Jesus’ death, or simply had been moved to another location.  Would robbers or abusers take the time to fold the napkin?  Would movers even leave the napkin?  Jesus was leaving a personal indication of his resurrection in the empty tomb, a signature, if you will.

I am not really venturing into apologetics, here.  The detail of the folded napkin may be literary—-the storyteller is simply narrating that Jesus personally left an indication of his resurrection for his disciples, who took a while to understand what was going on.  Some may point to the detail of the folded napkin as an indication that we are dealing here with eyewitness testimony; people have debated, however, whether vividness or appeal to detail is an iron-clad sure indicator that an account or story reflects the testimony of eyewitnesses.  I am just saying that, as someone hearing a story, and maybe even believing it, on some level, that detail of the story moves me.

A relative of mine one time appealed to the folded napkin in John 20:7 to encourage me to be neat.  “What did Jesus do with his burial clothes when he was done with them?  Just throw them to the side?  No, he folded them and placed them down neatly.”  I have a hard time feeling joy when I hear that, since it sounds to me like a rebuke or a put-down.  But my relative’s point can be turned into something positive.  Jesus did take care to fold his garment and lay it down neatly.  That may have been to hint to his disciples that he was alive—-who else would take such care with his burial clothes?  It could have also indicated that Jesus is one who is attentive to detail and who tries to bring order.  Jesus, therefore, takes care of me and others, and I can have hope that he can bring some sense of order and peace to my life and emotions, and to the world.

At the Easter service this morning, I thought about another church meeting that I attended years ago.  I worked at a nursing home and talked with one elderly woman about her church.  I asked her about it because people from it often visited her, and the women visitors usually dressed very conservatively—-their hair was in a bun, and they wore a white blouse and a long black skirt.  In any case, the elderly woman gave my name and address to one of the lady church members, and I got a card inviting me to a meeting that was being held in my hometown.  I went a couple of times, and, in one of the messages, the woman speaking was sharing what she thought about when she was reading a Scriptural passage.  I think the passage was “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).  This lady was saying that she thought about people being sad after Jesus died, but they were happy when he was alive again.

That thought has long stayed with me, even if I did not think that it was particularly profound exegesis when I first heard it.  A lot of times, on Easter (and I read some of my past Easter Sunday posts after church this morning), I wrestle with various issues: whether classic Christian apologetics make good arguments when they say there is evidence that Jesus rose; whether Jesus’ resurrection proves the truth of Christianity, and my vested interests in either answer; or how Jesus’ resurrection assures us that death has been conquered.  But I think that it is good for my mind to go back to the personal dimension: a story about people unjustly losing a friend whom they loved, a friend in whom they hoped, and feeling happy when they encountered that friend, not as dead anymore, but as alive.  They got to see their friend again.

President's Day 2015

Today is President’s Day!  We’ll be going to a couple of Goodwills, the ones where the price of everything is 35% off.  I’ll be looking at the books, DVDs, and VHSs.

I have set limits on what I buy.  Sometimes, I regret my decisions.  I wish, for example, that I got that book by Donald Miller, or Pope Benedict’s biography of Jesus.  Come to think of it, I may have even turned down Rob Bell’s Love Wins.  I am a man of discipline!  But it’s not the end of the world.  I can get things from my local library.  Today, I’ll be on the lookout for Christian fiction.  That has been my thing, lately.

I was thinking about the topic of Presidents.  Who is my favorite President?  I am too jaded to answer that question today.  I read an article not long ago about some of the company former President Clinton may be keeping, and that did not make me like former President Clinton that much!  I still vote, though, because some candidates are more likely to be sympathetic regarding the issues that affect me (i.e., the interest rates I’d have to pay on my student loans).

Book Write-Up: Love's Pursuit, by Siri Mitchell

Siri Mitchell.  Love’s Pursuit.  Minneapolis: Bethany House Publishers, 2009.  See here to buy the book.

Love’s Pursuit is set in seventeenth century Massachusetts, the time and place of the Puritans in America.  I decided to read this book for two reasons.  First of all, I enjoy reading about the Puritans.  And second, I recently read another book by Siri Mitchell, Like a Flower in Bloom, and I found it to be a worthwhile read (see my review here).

Love’s Pursuit is narrated from two perspectives.  The first perspective is that of Susannah Phillips, a young woman in the Puritan community who follows the rules, while her sister Mary is more on the wild side.  The second perspective is that of Smallhope Smythe, the quiet and timid wife of the blacksmith, Thomas Smythe.  The book does not explicitly mark when Susannah is narrating and when Smallhope is, so readers pretty much have to intuit that themselves.  If Susannah is mentioned in the third person and Thomas is a central character, then you can be fairly sure that you are reading Smallhope’s account!

I could describe the plot to you before I offer my impressions, but that is not really what I feel like doing here.  Rather, I want to mention the parts and themes of the book that were especially meaningful to me.  In the course of that discussion, I will mention elements of the plot, but my focus will be on the themes.

The most meaningful part of the book, for me, is the question of how one should see God.  Should we boldly assume that God passionately loves and pursues us and has given us grace, since Christ died for us, or is that stance too presumptive on our part?  Should we instead have a hopeful uncertainty about whether or not we have God’s grace or God loves us?  Should we look inside ourselves for signs of transformative grace before we can have any assurance that we are part of God’s elect?  Or is it enough to seek God for spiritual help, to believe that God is the only one who is truly good (whereas humans are all imperfect), and to trust in God’s goodness?

In this book, the more uncertain stance is that of the Puritans, whereas the more positive stance is that of Daniel—-an official of the hated king of England who comes to Massachusetts—-and, eventually, of Susannah, leading to her being ostracized by her fellow Christians.  The positive position is probably the view of Siri Mitchell herself.

In the course of reading this book, I was asking myself if Siri Mitchell was being a bit unfair towards the Puritans.  She seems to portray Puritanism as an attempt to be righteous and to impress God by good works, while, for her, the proper position is to trust in God’s grace through Jesus Christ.  Based upon my reading of the Puritans, I would say that they believed in God’s love and grace.  And yet, at the same time, many of them were uncertain about whether or not they were saved, and they emphasized good works and looking for signs of inner transformation in their search for some measure of spiritual assurance.  Such issues were a significant part of the antinomian controversy.  I would say that, here, Siri Mitchell’s portrait of the Puritans is fair, but I would also say that there is more to the story.

I would say that about other elements of Mitchell’s portrayal of the Puritans as well.  She portrays them as hardworking, whereas Daniel was trying to encourage Susannah to enjoy a sunset and to take time to smell the roses.  Granted, the Puritans did believe in hard work, but they also had a fun side, as Bruce Daniels argues in his book, Puritans at Play.  I also think that the Puritans could enjoy nature as God’s creation.  Jonathan Edwards came later than the seventeenth century, but he partook of Puritan thought, and he spent a lot of time in nature, which played a significant role in his spiritual epiphanies.

The book had other interesting parts.  There was the part in which a child in Susannah’s house was dying, and Susannah was clinging to Psalm 91:10, which states that no plague shall come to your dwelling.  Susannah was questioning whether she truly believed in that verse, since a plague had come into her dwelling!  Yet, she did not know what else to do, so she continued clinging to Psalm 91:10 for hope.

There was also the debate between Daniel and Susannah’s father about Christmas.  Daniel wanted to celebrate it with all of the trimmings, whereas Susannah’s father, a typical Puritan, was treating it as any other day: no ham, just the usual porridge!  The rationale of Susannah’s father was that the Bible does not tell us to celebrate Jesus’ birth. (Daniel’s response was that the Bible does not command us to do a lot of things that we do, even though Daniel later presented himself as the believer in Sola Scriptura and the Puritans as the ones whose theology had non-biblical aspects).  This interested me on account of the reasons that my family did not observe Christmas when I was younger: we believed that it was pagan in origin and that Jesus was most likely not born on December 25.  Susannah’s father, however, seemed to concede that Jesus was born on December 25, but he was against Christmas because the Bible does not command us to observe Jesus’ birth.  According to this article, Puritans disliked Christmas because it was non-biblical and they believed it to be pagan.

Overall, I enjoyed Love’s Pursuit.  The book gets into other issues that I did not talk about, such as abuse, and it has a bittersweet ending.  There were times when I was not particularly comfortable with the book: I was not always following the plot, or I did not understand what exactly people were saying when they were responding (I thought to myself, “Huh?”).  But the book had plenty of gems.

Scattered Christmas Ramblings

It’s Christmas today!  Here are some thoughts:

1.  I didn’t go with my Mom and her husband to midnight mass last night because, well, it was at midnight, and I was tired.  Maybe I’d be more cheerful today had I gone!  Still, at least I got things done this morning.

I’m not sure if I missed much.  They’re kind of the same every year.  But I usually do have a feeling of warmth when I go.

2.  I grew up in an Armstrongite church that didn’t celebrate Christmas because it regarded it as pagan.  Yesterday, I was reading an article by the leader of the church that we attended back when I was a kid.  The article is by Garner Ted Armstrong and is entitled “Christmas…the Untold Story.”  The article opens, “Anyone can discover the truth about the pagan origins of Christmas, simply by looking up the word, along with all its accouterments and symbols in the major encyclopedias and history books.”

That’s something we’d say: Christmas is pagan, and, if you don’t believe us, look it up in any encyclopedia!  We’d praise one who did so as someone who was willing to think rather than accept the customs around him without question.  The thing is, what if those encyclopedias were wrong, albeit understandably wrong?  I was reading a blog post yesterday, Darrell Pursiful’s “When Was Jesus Born?  Why December 25?”  Pursiful appeals to scholar William Tighe and says that Tighe asserts that “there is in fact no evidence for a pagan observance of December 25 prior to emperor Aurelian’s decree [in 274 C.E. that December 25 is the Unconquered Sun’s birthday,] and, as Hippolytus and Julius Africanus attest, Christians had already been celebrating the date as the birthday of Jesus for at least 50 years before Aurelian.”  I can understand how encyclopedias can conclude that Christians got Christmas from the pagans, for fifty years is not much time, and a person who fails to look closely at the weeds may walk away with the impression that Christians were basing Christmas on the celebration of the Unconquered Sun.  But there are reasons to believe the contrary.  (Note: Pursiful still says that certain Christmas customs have pagan roots.)

On a side note, I did not find all of Garner Ted’s arguments to be bad.  Would Caesar Augustus order a nationwide census (Luke 2) during the winter, when Jesus exhorted his disciples that winter was not a good time to flee Jerusalem (Matthew 24:20)?  Good question!

3.  I was reading a blog post this morning, Roger Olson’s “For God So Loved the World…That He Couldn’t Stay Away: A Christmas Meditation.”  The following passage especially stood out to me:
“I believe, with the Eastern churches, that the incarnation was God’s great plan and purpose in creation all along; it was not merely a ‘rescue mission.’ It became a rescue mission, but it would have happened even if humanity had not fallen due to rebellion. The purpose of God toward the world, toward humanity especially, was to join with it and join it with him by becoming one of us so we could become part of him. The original plan (to speak mythically) did not include the cross, but it became part of the plan when humanity rebelled. Because of our rebellion and God’s refusal to give up on his plan, the wounds of Jesus remain forever embedded in God’s life.”

I was thinking about where this overlapped with and differed from my Armstrongite heritage.  My impression is that Armstrongites believe that God had grand plans for human beings before they sinned, and that their sin necessitated God taking certain steps—-sending Christ to die for our sins—-to get those grand plans back on track.  These plans were for human beings to become part of the God family, spirit beings.  I doubt that Armstrongites would accept, however, that the incarnation would have occurred even had human beings not sinned.  They don’t even think that Jesus has his fleshly body anymore, maintaining that Jesus is a spirit being, and they hold that our destiny is to become spirit beings.  It’s almost as if they regard the incarnation as a temporary stage Jesus had to go through to die for our sins.  They may still acknowledge, however, that Jesus’ incarnation means that God understands what we are going through, since God himself was a human being.

4.  Growing up as someone who didn’t keep Christmas, I felt weird, yet superior to those who kept it.  “There are seriously people who believe in Santa Claus?”, I thought.  It’s interesting to me nowadays that there are Christians who observe Christmas yet advise parents against telling their kids there is a Santa Claus.  See here.  I tend to agree with them.  I am all for honoring the loving deeds of the historical St. Nicholas, but I don’t see why parents have to lie to their kids by saying that Santa Claus is real.

Anyway, have a Happy Holidays!  (“No, it’s Merry Christmas.”  “But not everyone keeps Christmas this holiday season.”  Blah blah.  The debates are endless!)

Scattered Ramblings on Comparing Jesus to Santa Claus

My pastor in last Sunday’s sermon was comparing Jesus to Santa Claus.  My pastor was actually seeing similarities between the two, but others have said that there are differences.

Santa Claus makes a list, checks it twice, and is going to find out who’s naughty or nice.  Christians who believe that God manifests a particular kind of grace say that God does not act that way.  For them, God is nicer than that old legalist Santa Claus!

Commentator P.J. O’Rourke said that God was a Republican, whereas Santa Claus was a Democrat:
“I have only one firm belief about the American political system, and that is this: God is a Republican and Santa Claus is a Democrat.

“God is an elderly or, at any rate, middle aged male, a stern fellow, patriarchal rather than paternal and a great believer in rules and regulations. He holds men accountable for their actions. He has little apparent concern for the material well being of the disadvantaged. He is politically connected, socially powerful and holds the mortgage on literally everything in the world. God is difficult. God is unsentimental. It is very hard to get into God’s heavenly country club.

“Santa Claus is another matter. He’s cute. He’s nonthreatening. He’s always cheerful. And he loves animals. He may know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice, but he never does anything about it. He gives everyone everything they want without the thought of quid pro quo. He works hard for charities, and he’s famously generous to the poor. Santa Claus is preferable to God in every way but one: There is no such thing as Santa Claus.”  From here.

For O’Rourke, Santa Claus is nicer than God.  The thing is, though, Santa is too nice to be true!
After I came home from church on Sunday, I read a post by Hebrew Bible scholar Pete Enns on legends concerning St. Nicholas.  Enns quoted a card that said: “Nicholas saved young women from slavery, protected sailors, spared innocents from execution, provided grain in a famine and rescued a kidnapped boy.”  Later in the post, Enns glibly remarks that “For ‘Jolly Old St. Nick’ to have pulled off things like standing between a slave owner and his property, or an executioner and his victim, or go about unkidnaping a boy, he was probably a very brave man indeed with better things on his mind than making sure nice children get an X-Box or an iPad 3.”

I did not know about those legends about St. Nick while I was sitting in church listening to the sermon.  But I was thinking as my pastor compared Jesus to Santa Claus, “Is God concerned about whether a kid gets an X-Box?”  My pastor was saying, though, that Jesus brings other kinds of gifts.  He did not elaborate on that a great deal, but one can think of examples: forgiveness of sin, peace with God, joy, and the hope that God will one day set up a just world order.

I can probably critique all sorts of comparisons between God and Santa Claus.  There are places in the Bible in which God does appear to meticulously scrutinize people’s behavior; I would say, though, that God shows us grace and allows us to grow.  I do not believe that God is as callous as P.J. O’Rourke’s comment seems to indicate.  There are indications in Scripture that God is deeply concerned for the poor.  But God does not always intervene as we think he should, for whatever reason.  On Pete Enns comments, yes, that is quite profound!  I would not say that there is anything wrong with wanting an X-Box or iPad3, though, and yet one should evaluate those things within the proper context.

Anyway, those are some ramblings!

Scattered Ramblings on Veterans Day

Today is Veterans Day.  Last Sunday at church, the pastor asked the veterans to stand up.  One was a World War II vet.  Another served in 1965.  Another served in the 1950’s.

The guy who normally sits in front of me was not there on Sunday, but he’s a veteran of veterans.  He served at the tail end of World War II, then in Korea, and later in Vietnam.  He was in the Navy.
What particularly interested me was the women who stood up.  One lady served in the Navy in the 1970’s.  An older lady, who has given me rides home, also stood up.  She told me some of her military story in the past.  If my memory is correct, she served in the Canadian military.

Some may criticize churches for having veterans stand so the congregation can applaud them.  Is not the church supposed to be about the Kingdom of God, not the Kingdom of the United States?  I can see their point, but there’s nothing wrong with being polite.

I cannot say that I like every single military person I have ever met.  Some of them come across to me as know-it-alls.  But I have met military people whom I do like, including those in my church.  I do respect their service.  I also have compassion for those who are recovering from war.  I remember being near a veteran from Iraq, and he cringed when he heard a helicopter.  The other veterans understood what was happening: “Experiencing a bit of PTSD, huh?”

Is there a correlation between one’s political ideology and one’s view of the military?  I suppose that there can be, but it’s not an iron-clad absolute.  There are progressives who praise the military for being on the cutting edge of green technology.  I think of Frank Schaeffer, an ex-member of the religious right who is now a harsh critic of the right: he has written beautiful books that honor the military, including one that Laura Bush praised.

And, on the right, there are some people who apply their tight view of fiscal policy to the military, saying that the military wastes a lot of money.  I think of David Stockman’s book, The Triumph of Politics.  Stockman was Reagan’s Office of Management and Budget head, and Stockman clashed with Defense Secretary Casper Weinberger because Stockman wanted to cut the defense budget.  Stockman figured that the military could do as good of a job with less money.  Of course, Stockman wanted to cut other things, too.  I tend to disagree with those on the Left who think that cutting the military alone will solve the nation’s fiscal problems.

But I am against cutting services for veterans.  Like the wars or not, these men and women still stepped forward and put their lives on the line.  The country owes them a “Thank you.”

At the Zoo

We went to a zoo today.  It’s a small zoo.  The animals there are not exotic.  They’re animals from the area—-a pumba, a black bear, a wolverine, turtles, snakes, butterflies, eagles, ravens, wolves, etc. 
The zoo charged one dollar per person.  Because the zoo was pretty small, it only took us an hour-and-a-half to see it, so we were not exhausted.

It was fun.  A turtle tried to get in front of my Mom’s husband’s camera—-maybe because the turtle wanted his picture taken (I know, that’s anthropomorphism).  The pumba was pretty calm, until a loud group of people came.  Then, the pumba hissed.  My Mom says the pumba was scared of the large baby carriage.  Then there was a wolverine, who was running around with something in his mouth.  At first, I thought it was a piece of wood.  But it could have been a bone of some animal.

That’s all I’m in the mood to write right now!  Hope you had a pleasant Labor Day.

The Holiday Blues

A thought has occurred to me more than once: according to my recollections, I had the “holiday blues” more often after I quit drinking, than I did before.  I wonder why that was.  Isn’t sobriety, after all, supposed to entail an improvement?

“You didn’t feel the holiday blues back then because before you were drunk,” someone may answer.  Well, that is not exactly true.  One year on Thanksgiving and Christmas, I worked on writing papers all day, without feeling the least bit depressed.  On other pre-sobriety Thanksgivings and Christmases when I was alone, I drank some, but not a whole lot.  I look back on my pre-sobriety holidays alone, and they are a blur to me, whereas I actually remember each sobriety holiday alone.  These pre-sobriety holidays just came, and they went.  I enjoyed the time off from school.  Sometimes, I went to see a movie.  If I have any negative recollection of them, it was that I was often disappointed that I could not find anything open on those days.  But I figured that this was how the holidays were, and they would soon be over.

After my sobriety date, when I spent the holidays alone, I felt very depressed.  It was like I was consciously trying to make myself happy, since I was supposed to be happy on the holidays, and I was failing miserably.  One year was not that bad because I went to a few meetings, but in doing so I was consciously beating off the holiday blues.  I don’t remember doing that prior to my sobriety.
I don’t deal with holiday blues nowadays because I am not alone.  It’s just interesting to me that my pre-sobriety holidays alone were better than my sobriety holidays alone.  I wonder why that was.  Maybe it was because, in sobriety, I was starting to encounter people who wrestled with the holiday blues, so I was more aware of them.  Also, I had started blogging, so maybe thinking and reflecting too much made me unhappy.  I don’t know.  I will say one other thing, though: I have more good days in general in sobriety than I did before sobriety.

Ramblings About Different Places, a Coming Bible Study, and Mother's Day

The church service at my church this morning focused on Christ as the good shepherd.  In the closing prayer, the pastor said that Christ knows all of our temperaments.

I was thinking about a similar issue as I was walking to church, and as I was walking back: that we are all in different places.  There are reasons that our hearts are closed, hard, and cold to what they’re closed, hard, and cold to, and that they’re warm, soft, and open to what they’re warm, soft, and open to.  I cannot control what other people believe or don’t believe, for there are reasons that they are where they are.  I can try to be a positive influence, whenever I can, but people are where they are.  But I do pray that God might minister to people wherever they are.  Does he?  Well, I don’t know.  Some testify that he does.  My heart, however, remains cold and hard to God and many people.

I can perhaps accept the belief that God is, somehow, a good shepherd.  This could be the case, even if there is suffering and death in this life, for God can shepherd people’s souls into the afterlife.  But Christianity also demands a subjective response on our part.  That is where I struggle: can I give the subjective response that God wants?

I’ll be going to my church’s Bible study this week.  The Bible Study group will be using the curriculum, When God’s People Pray.  The bulletin described the study as follows (and I do not know if it is quoting something): “Prayer can change lives and circumstances like nothing else can.  What are the keys that unlock its power, turn prayer from a mere activity into a vital link with God and all God’s resources?  In this 6-session DVD based study we will discover the power of God to restore hope, ignite faith, work miracles, and change lives—-through prayer.”

I certainly can improve my prayer life.  It is not that I don’t pray: I do often.  But I often feel that it is a mere activity, that I am not truly connecting with God.  And I felt this way when I was a fundamentalist, not just now.  Moreover, I wonder what exactly I am supposed to be expecting from prayer: that my outward circumstances will change, that God will strengthen me to cope with any circumstance, both of those things, or neither of them?  Maybe this study will give me insight.  Will I like or agree with everything I hear?  Probably not.  But my hope is that I will just experience life, with its highs and lows, rather than judging life, or getting worked up about it.  And I will blog about the study.  My posts will probably not be widely liked or disliked, but they will get read.  How do I know?  Because all of them do, by at least someone.

Anyway, those are my ramblings for the day.  I wish those celebrating Mother’s Day a Happy Mother’s Day.  I am thankful to my Mom for her love for me.  If anyone models to me God’s love and patience (assuming God is a God of unconditional, or overwhelming, love), it’s her.

Easter 2014

For Easter, I went to Catholic mass with my Mom and step-Dad last night, and I went to my Presbyterian church this morning.  I am not sure what to get out of these services as someone who is not entirely sure what he believes.  I will say, though, that I enjoyed the music at the Catholic service last night—-both the powerful Catholic songs, and also the evangelical (as far as I know) song, “As the Deer.”

This morning’s service was interesting.  The Pastor Emeritus’ grandkids were there, and they livened up the children’s part of the service with their comments.  It was like an episode of “Kids Say the Darndest Things” (remember that show?).  The pastor’s sermon was all right.  It reminded me of how death is an inevitability, and that is why people desire an afterlife.  I am a fairly young man, so I have not yet experienced seeing my parents, siblings, cousins, and peers dying around me.  My grandparents are still alive.  Death seems to me to be a long way off, but it will someday be a reality to me.  I can somewhat understand why there are people who celebrate the resurrection of Jesus as a sign that death is defeated and there will be an afterlife.  I do not think that one has to have a conservative Christian perspective to believe in an afterlife, however, for there are other afterlife beliefs out there: ghosts, reincarnation, etc.

During the prayer part of the service, someone expressed concern about atheists’ attacks on Christians.  She said that there are more Christians than atheists, yet atheists somehow manage to wage their attacks.  The pastor responded in agreement, saying that there is a creationist radio program that he likes to listen to, and an atheist web site is responding to that program with “inaccurate things about creation” (my pastor’s words, according to my memory).  The pastor prayed that Christians might be able to drown out the atheists’ voices with the message that Christ lives.

I had a hard time identifying with any of this.  It is not because I like atheist trolls—-I don’t, and I will not publish their comments here (as I will not publish comments from fundamentalist Christian trolls).  But I can identify with atheist arguments.  I think that they have the upper hand on the creation/evolution debate.  On the Bible, however, I find them to be a mixed bag.  They make a decent case that the Bible is not inerrant and perfect, and they also raise interesting questions and notice a lot of weird details that few others notice or mention.  But a good number of them believe that Jesus did not exist, contrary to what the vast majority of biblical scholars say, and these atheists are such know-it-alls about it.

In any case, I think that a better approach is to listen to people’s cases, not to drown them out with louder, zealous voices.

I rarely pray that people might change their beliefs.  I used to do that as a conservative Christian, but I don’t anymore.  One reason is that I cannot picture a lot of people I know changing their beliefs.  For example, I cannot picture my Mom becoming a conservative Christian.  I cannot picture my Dad voting.  They are who they are.  They hold their ideas for the reasons that they do.  They’ve held the same ideas for years.

But I can picture certain people becoming open to change, given the right settings.  My pastor, for example, interacts with other pastors (some of whom are rather liberal) and is close friends with an academic who has written books about theology.  My pastor participates in interfaith dialogue.  If I were to tell him why I tend to agree with atheists rather than fundamentalists on evolution and the Bible’s errancy, I am not sure if he would be that receptive.  My communication skills are not always the best, and I can easily come across as a bitter village atheist with an ax to grind about religion.  But if my pastor were to discuss these questions with people who are thoughtful and gentle, and who have managed to keep their faith and live lives of spirituality amidst the challenges and ambiguities, that would make a world of difference, I think.

Anyway, those are my musings for the day.

Millard Fillmore and Ringing Bells

I was watching the CBS morning show before leaving for church yesterday.  You know, the show that Charles Kuralt used to host.  Does that name (Charles Kuralt) ring any bells?  Anyway, there was a segment about President Millard Fillmore, since today is President’s Day.  Different people shared their assessments of Fillmore.  One lady was defending him against detractors who criticize his signing of the Fugitive Slave Law, arguing that President Fillmore signed the Compromise of 1850, of which the Fugitive Slave Law was a small part.  Another guy was lambasting Fillmore, calling him anti-Catholic, anti-black, and the list went on.  There seemed to be a common admiration for one thing that Fillmore accomplished, however, and this admiration appeared to be shared even by his harshest critic: Fillmore lowered the price of the postage stamp!

On a side note, wasn’t the high school on Head of the Class named after Millard Fillmore?  Does that show ring any bells?

The Whole World Was At Peace?

I went to midnight mass last night.  The priest was saying that the people in the world put aside their resentments and divisions when Jesus was born.  I had no idea where he was getting that.  Herod certainly didn’t put aside his ambitions in the Gospel of Matthew, for Herod saw the recently born Jesus as a rival to his throne and tried to kill him.

I thought of a Bible study group that I attended years ago.  We were going through the Gospel of Luke.  The group leader was saying that, the way that he long saw the Christmas story, people at Jesus’ birth are all happy and are singing songs together.  In reading Luke, however, he was seeing a different picture: people’s reactions were, “This is strange stuff.”

On Not Fasting This Year

In the past, I have fasted on the Day of Atonement, since I grew up in a version of Christianity in which people did so.  For the past two years, however, I have not.  And I am not fasting today.  Why not?  In the past, it may have been because I felt that I, as a New Covenant Christian, was not required to do so.  Nowadays, I really don't care about that, for I'm skeptical of many attempts to organize the writings of the Bible into some grand, unified message, as if the Bible speaks with one voice and propounds a consistent "theology."  Consequently, I tend to greet most statements that begin with "The Bible says" with skepticism.  This year, I'm not fasting because I just plain don't want to.  In the past, what fasting on the Day of Atonement meant for me was being hungry and thirsty for 24 hours and looking at the clock to see when the day would end.  This was the case, even if I incorporated spiritual exercises into the Day.  I don't believe that I have to fast to have a better relationship with God----to be reminded of spiritual and moral lessons, to remember that God loves me, or to reflect on what I should and should not be doing.  Heck, at this point in my life, I feel that I get spirituality from watching good TV shows!  Why should I put myself through a ritual?

I've wondered in the past why the ancient Israelites were required to fast on the Day of Atonement.  The answers that I usually heard was that fasting reminds people of their limitations, that it is a manifestation of humility, and that doing it shows God that one takes his repentance and need for God's forgiveness seriously.  On the first, I don't need to fast to be reminded of my limitations.  Getting a headache reminds me of that!  On the second and third reasons, I think of what Moses said in the 1956 movie, The Ten Commandments:  "Does this god demand a scarred back and broken hands as the price of his favor?"

The thing is, I respect some of the people who are fasting on this day, looking for a profound spiritual experience.  I know one lady who converted to Reconstructionist Judaism, and she wrote yesterday that she was looking forward to fasting.  The same goes for a number of Jewish people I know.  And, as I look back, I have had good Days of Atonement.  I would take the day off from school (if my school didn't already give students the day off, as the Jewish schools did), I wouldn't do any homework, and I would fast.  I'd either go to a Jewish Hillel service, or I would watch movies that edified me, or I would study Scripture.  It was a change of pace for me, and it was a ritual that kept me grounded, in a sense.  Those were good times.  But I'm just not in that place right now.  Maybe I'll be in the place again sometime in the future.  I'm just not inclined today to refrain from food and water, to remind myself of all of my faults, and to beat myself up just because I fall short of some perfect standard. 

Easter for Doubters and Rebellious Unbelievers?

I went to Easter vigil last night at a Catholic church with my Mom and her husband.  This morning, I went to Easter services at the Presbyterian church that I normally attend.

I gained a fresh appreciation for a post that Rachel Held Evans recently wrote, Holy Week for Doubters, as well as the comments that followed it.  To be honest with you, when I read posts or comments by people who say that they agonize over Easter on account of their doubts about religion, the response that usually goes through my mind is: "Get a grip!  You're going to a service!  You go, you sit down, and you leave!  It's not a big deal!  Some people have real problems!"  But, after the Maundy Thursday service that I attended last week, I could somewhat identify with doubters who struggle with Easter.  Back when I was more of an evangelical, I would go to a service to be inspired.  But what if I'm not sure what I believe?  What exactly should I be feeling at a service, in that situation?  It's difficult for me to feel emotional and inspired when I hear Christian affirmations that I doubt are even true.

There are a variety of reasons that I doubt, both academic and personal.  But I'd like to mention a personal reason that I doubt: I would like to make choices, rather than forcing myself to be something that I'm not in the name of "obeying God."  I'm sure that conservative Christians could stand in line, get on their holier-than-thou high horse, and say to me: "You see!  Your problem is spiritual!  You don't want to submit to God!  You want to sin and do your own thing!"  Well, I don't want to do anything that harms people, I'll tell you that!  But, yeah, I definitely don't want to get back on a spiritual treadmill in which I beat up on myself for not being extroverted enough, or I feel that God does not forgive me because I have a hard time getting rid of a grudge, or I look at a woman with lust in my heart and ask God for forgiveness, knowing that my repentance is a sham because I am a human male and will probably look at a woman with lust again.  I'm tired of feeling that I have to be perfect, or that certain things have to be true in my life for me to know that I am truly saved.  I mean, life is tough enough, without adding spiritual insecurity to the mix!  I'm tired of feeling that I have to silence the moral sense within me----such as compassion for gay people who have an orientation that they did not ask for and who don't want to be celibate for the rest of their natural lives----in order to conform to a book (the Bible) that sometimes portrays God in morally-questionable terms.
 
It's not just that I have a hard time believing that conservative Christianity is true.  That would be doubt!  It's that I don't want for conservative Christianity to be true.  What's more, I get sick when I think about the possibility that such a belief system might be true.  A number of conservative Christians would probably label that as unbelief. 

Okay, that said (and, on some level, I've said this stuff before, in past posts), what do I have to say about the services that I attended?  Well, last night, I appreciated the sense of connection that I felt during the passing of the peace.  I also felt rather at peace at the end of the service, perhaps because of the music, or the friendliness of the people at the church.  This morning, the hymn that especially stood out to me was "He lives!"  The song is about knowing that Jesus lives on account of his kindness to us personally, and the things that he does around us.  It's a rather subjective or experiential belief in Jesus' resurrection----which differs from believing Jesus rose for classical apologetic reasons (i.e., the empty tomb, the disciples not dying for a lie, etc.) and from highlighting that Jesus' resurrection was his triumph over death.  But I somewhat value its humility: it speaks from experience (or an interpretation of one's experience).