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Many Christians like to make a big deal about the word Elohim in Genesis 1. Elohim is the plural for "god," yet, in Genesis 1, it occurs with singular verbs. For a lot of Christians, this means the Old Testament views "God" as a collective.
A lot of Christians believe this is evidence for the trinity. "When a Jewish person or a Jehovah's Witness disputes the trinity, you should point him to Genesis 1," Christian apologists boldly claim. "Elohim is plural, yet the verb is singular. God is three persons, but he is still one God."
Armstrongites, however, do not see God as a trinity, since they don't think that the Holy Spirit is God. So how do they approach the verse? They say that Elohim can mean a binity: two persons (the Father and Jesus) in one God family (which will expand to include more members once believers become divine). After all, Elohim is plural, and all you need is more than one person to have a plural, right? So Elohim can mean that God is a binity, as far as Armstrongites are concerned.
"Not so fast," respond trinitarians. On Felix's post a while back, Guess What I found on Youtube.com???, there is a debate between John Ankerberg and the late Garner Ted Armstrong over the trinity. Someone from Ankerberg's audience attempts to discredit Armstrong's binitarian interpretation of Genesis 1 through an appeal to Gesenius' Hebrew Grammar. Essentially, he argues that the Hebrew uses the dual whenever it discusses two of something, but it employs the plural for more than two. According to this reasoning, had Genesis 1 wanted to convey that the Godhead has two members, it would have used the dual Elohayim, not the plural Elohim. But it uses the plural Elohim, so it must be saying that God is more than two persons. Therefore, the trinity wins, right?
In my humble opinion, they're all wrong. If one reads the Hebrew Bible on its own terms rather than forcing it into the mold of orthodox or Amrstongite Christianity, one will see that it also uses the plural for "god" with a singular verb when it discusses non-Israelite deities. But it's only talking about one deity when it does so. For example, take Judges 16:23-24, noting in particular the parts in red:
The lords of the Philistines assembled to offer a great sacrifice to their god Dagon and to make merry. They said, "Our god has delivered into our power Samson our enemy." When the people saw him, they praised their god. For they said, "Our god has delivered into our power our enemy, the ravager of our land, the one who has multiplied our slain." Then they stationed him between the columns. (NRSV, emphasis mine)
The word for "our god" is "elohenu," which is plural. And the word for "has delivered" is "natan," which is singular. Grammatically speaking, Judges 16:23-24 refers to Dagon the same way that Genesis 1 speaks of the Israelite God: plural subject, singular verb. Yet, Judges 16:23-24 is not saying that Dagon is a trinity, or a binity, or a family, or even collective. There's only one Dagon! So the use of the plural for "God" in Genesis 1 is fully consistent with strict Israelite monotheism.
So why does the Hebrew do this for gods? A professor at DePauw once told me that the Israelites couldn't conceive of putting "God" in the singular, since they thought he was so glorious and majestic. So maybe we see the plural of majesty here. I don't know.
But I will say this: Even if the trinity is true, appealing to the use of Elohim in Genesis 1 to support it is problematic.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Jack, Sawyer, and Selflessness
After this last week's Lost episode, I thought about Ken Brown's post from May 30, 2008, Selfishness and Sacrifice on LOST.
Ken compares and contrasts Jack and Sawyer. Jack started out as a selfless leader, but he degenerated to become a drunk who's not too eager to help anybody. Sawyer began as a selfish jerk, but now he's a pillar of his community who looks out for the interests of others.
Ken draws from this the lesson that selflessness is a continuing demand:
"It doesn’t matter how noble Jack was, unless he continues to be so. It doesn’t matter how selfish Sawyer was; for today he can make a new start. Virtue is never satisfied with the past, but awaits each new decision. No one can rest on their past deeds as proof of their character or hope, and no one is so far lost that they can’t find their way home."
Ezekiel 18:21-24 has a similar idea: "But if the wicked turn away from all their sins that they have committed and keep all my statutes and do what is lawful and right, they shall surely live; they shall not die. None of the transgressions that they have committed shall be remembered against them; for the righteousness that they have done they shall live...But when the righteous turn away from their righteousness and commit iniquity and do the same abominable things that the wicked do, shall they live? None of the righteous deeds that they have done shall be remembered; for the treachery of which they are guilty and the sin they have committed, they shall die" (NRSV).
What went through my mind was this: How did Jack get to his current state of selfishness? And how did Sawyer evolve to his role as a selfless, responsible leader? To tell you the truth, I can picture myself in both situations!
Let's take Jack. Selfless leaders can easily get burnt out! Jack always felt responsible for others, and that's a heavy burden for anyone to bear. People died because he made some pretty bad decisions, and now he's racked with guilt, which makes him reluctant to help anybody. Add to that the feelings he may have that people did not really appreciate his good deeds. Right now, he seems to be relieved that he doesn't have to make the heavy decisions, but he also resents being treated as a second-class citizen, which occurred when he was made a janitor "based on his capabilities," according to the DHARMA Initiative tests he took. He just wants to drown his pain and feel good, which is why he turned to drugs. Or he wants to wallow in his self-pity. Or he seeks to redeem himself by correcting his mistakes, which is why he brought the survivors back to the island. But he's not willing to make a total dive into a selfless lifestyle, since it is tiring and can often bring pain and rejection!
Sawyer, however, went the other direction. Although he started out as a selfish jerk, he came to have affection for others than himself. He also found personal healing after he killed the guy who was responsible for the death of his father. While he began to think about others than himself three years ago (for him), he was not ready at that time for leadership or a serious relationship that required a lot of giving. As he told Kate on the last episode, "Three years ago, I was no more ready to be your boyfriend than that girl's father" (meaning his daughter Cassandra). But he got a set of responsibilities as the DHARMA Initiative's chief of security, and he eventually settled down with Juliet. Resonsibility kind of grew on him.
The thing is this: Sawyer can easily become like Jack. Sawyer has his set of predictable responsibilities, and he's selfless enough to have a relationship with a woman who loves him. But he hasn't yet made any seriously bad decisions that have produced disastrous results. He's only recently begun to shoulder the burdens of other people's lives and deaths, so he doesn't yet have the pain, fatigue, and loneliness that can accompany leadership, as Jack did.
What's my point here? I'm not sure. But I can identify with both Jack and Sawyer. I can get tired of sin and desire a life of happiness and righteousness (Sawyer), but I can also get burnt out with Christianity: believing certain things and acting in a "happy happy" extroverted manner. Plus, I can easily allow my hurts to paralyze and discourage me, as Jack has done.
I can get out of my funk and become selfless, but there's always the risk that being selfless can put me into another funk.
Ken compares and contrasts Jack and Sawyer. Jack started out as a selfless leader, but he degenerated to become a drunk who's not too eager to help anybody. Sawyer began as a selfish jerk, but now he's a pillar of his community who looks out for the interests of others.
Ken draws from this the lesson that selflessness is a continuing demand:
"It doesn’t matter how noble Jack was, unless he continues to be so. It doesn’t matter how selfish Sawyer was; for today he can make a new start. Virtue is never satisfied with the past, but awaits each new decision. No one can rest on their past deeds as proof of their character or hope, and no one is so far lost that they can’t find their way home."
Ezekiel 18:21-24 has a similar idea: "But if the wicked turn away from all their sins that they have committed and keep all my statutes and do what is lawful and right, they shall surely live; they shall not die. None of the transgressions that they have committed shall be remembered against them; for the righteousness that they have done they shall live...But when the righteous turn away from their righteousness and commit iniquity and do the same abominable things that the wicked do, shall they live? None of the righteous deeds that they have done shall be remembered; for the treachery of which they are guilty and the sin they have committed, they shall die" (NRSV).
What went through my mind was this: How did Jack get to his current state of selfishness? And how did Sawyer evolve to his role as a selfless, responsible leader? To tell you the truth, I can picture myself in both situations!
Let's take Jack. Selfless leaders can easily get burnt out! Jack always felt responsible for others, and that's a heavy burden for anyone to bear. People died because he made some pretty bad decisions, and now he's racked with guilt, which makes him reluctant to help anybody. Add to that the feelings he may have that people did not really appreciate his good deeds. Right now, he seems to be relieved that he doesn't have to make the heavy decisions, but he also resents being treated as a second-class citizen, which occurred when he was made a janitor "based on his capabilities," according to the DHARMA Initiative tests he took. He just wants to drown his pain and feel good, which is why he turned to drugs. Or he wants to wallow in his self-pity. Or he seeks to redeem himself by correcting his mistakes, which is why he brought the survivors back to the island. But he's not willing to make a total dive into a selfless lifestyle, since it is tiring and can often bring pain and rejection!
Sawyer, however, went the other direction. Although he started out as a selfish jerk, he came to have affection for others than himself. He also found personal healing after he killed the guy who was responsible for the death of his father. While he began to think about others than himself three years ago (for him), he was not ready at that time for leadership or a serious relationship that required a lot of giving. As he told Kate on the last episode, "Three years ago, I was no more ready to be your boyfriend than that girl's father" (meaning his daughter Cassandra). But he got a set of responsibilities as the DHARMA Initiative's chief of security, and he eventually settled down with Juliet. Resonsibility kind of grew on him.
The thing is this: Sawyer can easily become like Jack. Sawyer has his set of predictable responsibilities, and he's selfless enough to have a relationship with a woman who loves him. But he hasn't yet made any seriously bad decisions that have produced disastrous results. He's only recently begun to shoulder the burdens of other people's lives and deaths, so he doesn't yet have the pain, fatigue, and loneliness that can accompany leadership, as Jack did.
What's my point here? I'm not sure. But I can identify with both Jack and Sawyer. I can get tired of sin and desire a life of happiness and righteousness (Sawyer), but I can also get burnt out with Christianity: believing certain things and acting in a "happy happy" extroverted manner. Plus, I can easily allow my hurts to paralyze and discourage me, as Jack has done.
I can get out of my funk and become selfless, but there's always the risk that being selfless can put me into another funk.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Invite Sy to Church
I wrote yesterday about lonely, despairing people who go on killing rampages right before taking their own lives (see The Recent Shooting). I thought about a Christian movie review of One Hour Photo (2002).
One Hour Photo is about a photo technician named Sy (played by Robin Williams), who works at SaveMart. He is obsessed with the Yorkin family, whose photos he has developed for years. He has copies of their pictures on the wall of his apartment, where he lives alone with his television set. He has no family, and he's not very good at making friends. He fantasizes about being part of the Yorkin family, which he idealizes.
In one scene, young Jake Yorkin is having a hard time getting to sleep, for he feels sorry for the socially-challenged Sy. Jake and his mom send Sy "good thoughts" so Jake can feel better and go to sleep: basically, they close their eyes and think happy things about Sy. The scene then shifts to Sy in his bleak apartment, watching TV with the same blank expression. Apparently, the "good thoughts" from the Yorkins were not having their effect!
The review on Christian Spotlight on the Movies states the following (see here):
The movie continues to follow Williams' downward spiral until, like all movie mental-cases, he meets with an unhappy end. But does it always have to be this way? Imagine this: What if, upon sensing his pain, instead of sending Sy “good thoughts” (which does nothing for Sy and serves only to make the Yorkins' feel better about themselves) the Yorkins did something that could ultimately save his life… What if they invited him to church? What if they took the time to help him bond with other, similarly wounded people or guided him to a ministry designed to heal his long-buried hurts? If told from a Christian perspective, a story like this could be one of redemption and victory. Instead, the world offers what it always offers: emotional breakdown and despair. That is why it is so important that when those awkward, desperate people cross our paths, we make the effort to introduce them to Jesus. Actually, that goes for trendy, young couples who seem above it all too. (Emphasis mine.)
I kind of blew off this statement the first time that I read it, since going to church hasn't always alleviated my feelings of loneliness! Now, some of it strikes me as reasonable. I don't think the Yorkins should have told Sy that he needed group therapy or asked him if he knew the Lord, since that doesn't appear socially appropriate to me. They only know him on a superficial level, after all! But invite him to church? Why not? I can picture them doing that! "Sy, we were wondering if you'd like to go to church with us sometime." Sounds easy, and Sy would probably eat that up! And, because he'd be going with the Yorkins, he wouldn't feel as isolated during the service.
I'm not trying to impose a legalism by saying Christians should invite their local sales-clerk to church (as if I have the authority to tell anyone to do anything!). But are there reasonable, socially-appropriate ways to reach out to the lonely and build bridges with the socially-challenged?
One Hour Photo is about a photo technician named Sy (played by Robin Williams), who works at SaveMart. He is obsessed with the Yorkin family, whose photos he has developed for years. He has copies of their pictures on the wall of his apartment, where he lives alone with his television set. He has no family, and he's not very good at making friends. He fantasizes about being part of the Yorkin family, which he idealizes.
In one scene, young Jake Yorkin is having a hard time getting to sleep, for he feels sorry for the socially-challenged Sy. Jake and his mom send Sy "good thoughts" so Jake can feel better and go to sleep: basically, they close their eyes and think happy things about Sy. The scene then shifts to Sy in his bleak apartment, watching TV with the same blank expression. Apparently, the "good thoughts" from the Yorkins were not having their effect!
The review on Christian Spotlight on the Movies states the following (see here):
The movie continues to follow Williams' downward spiral until, like all movie mental-cases, he meets with an unhappy end. But does it always have to be this way? Imagine this: What if, upon sensing his pain, instead of sending Sy “good thoughts” (which does nothing for Sy and serves only to make the Yorkins' feel better about themselves) the Yorkins did something that could ultimately save his life… What if they invited him to church? What if they took the time to help him bond with other, similarly wounded people or guided him to a ministry designed to heal his long-buried hurts? If told from a Christian perspective, a story like this could be one of redemption and victory. Instead, the world offers what it always offers: emotional breakdown and despair. That is why it is so important that when those awkward, desperate people cross our paths, we make the effort to introduce them to Jesus. Actually, that goes for trendy, young couples who seem above it all too. (Emphasis mine.)
I kind of blew off this statement the first time that I read it, since going to church hasn't always alleviated my feelings of loneliness! Now, some of it strikes me as reasonable. I don't think the Yorkins should have told Sy that he needed group therapy or asked him if he knew the Lord, since that doesn't appear socially appropriate to me. They only know him on a superficial level, after all! But invite him to church? Why not? I can picture them doing that! "Sy, we were wondering if you'd like to go to church with us sometime." Sounds easy, and Sy would probably eat that up! And, because he'd be going with the Yorkins, he wouldn't feel as isolated during the service.
I'm not trying to impose a legalism by saying Christians should invite their local sales-clerk to church (as if I have the authority to tell anyone to do anything!). But are there reasonable, socially-appropriate ways to reach out to the lonely and build bridges with the socially-challenged?
Friday, April 3, 2009
Obama's New World Order
The AP has an interesting piece today: Analysis: Obama's new world order.
I'm hesitant to admit this on the blogosphere, but I grew up reading right-wing conspiracy theory books. Gary Allen's None Dare Call It Conspiracy. Phyllis Schlafly's A Choice Not an Echo. The writings of ex-Armstrongite David J. Smith. The Left Behind series. And, although I emphatically do NOT associate any of the above names with Nazism, Holocaust revisionism, or support for Hitler's atrocities, another book to add to the list is Adolf Hitler's Mein Kampf. Their premise was that there is an elite that wants to merge America into a one world government, ruled by a socialistic or (according to members of the Nation of Islam) fascistic dictatorship.
There are people I know who believe we are heading toward this goal, which (for them) will culminate in the Antichrist's rule of the world. Right now, we see a lot of emphasis on globalism in the news. Sean Hannity mocks conspiracy theorists as he plays the Twilight Zone theme song, but he and Dick Morris acknowledged that they may have a valid point, now that Obama is allegedly pushing for an international system of economic regulation. Treasury Secretary Geithner said that he was open to the idea of a global currency, before backtracking on the idea. And the AP article above remarks that Obama is moving away from the idea of American exceptionalism, towards greater cooperation with the nations.
Good or bad? There are probably conspiracy theorists who will say that Bush took this country down to set the stage for a coming New World Order. You know what Palpatine did on the Star Wars prequels: creating crises for him to solve so that he could gain power for himself and create a dictatorship? Some believe that this happens in real life, and they view wars, the current economic crisis, and the scare over global warming as coming excuses for a one world government. While Obama talks about peace, conspiracy theorists will say that such talk is often a cover for an attempt to gain power.
Do we have cause to fear? I don't know. We should keep our minds open. On some level, all of the countries of the world are in this together, and we shouldn't be afraid of cooperation. And, while many would consider "American exceptionalism" to be insulting because it implies that America is better than other countries, we should value all nations as exceptional in their own way. Hopefully, our current push towards globalism won't lead to the destruction of nations as nations, but will respect their (and our) sovereignty.
Apocalyptic forecasts do not always pan out. Armstrongites grew up hearing that Germany would unite and become the Beast power, and we thought that was about to happen when the Berlin wall came tumbling down. But it hasn't panned out that way.
Maybe we shouldn't always expect the worse or fear cooperation among countries. But we should also remember that human nature has a selfish, power-hungry dimension, so we should keep on our guard, in some way, shape, and form.
I'm hesitant to admit this on the blogosphere, but I grew up reading right-wing conspiracy theory books. Gary Allen's None Dare Call It Conspiracy. Phyllis Schlafly's A Choice Not an Echo. The writings of ex-Armstrongite David J. Smith. The Left Behind series. And, although I emphatically do NOT associate any of the above names with Nazism, Holocaust revisionism, or support for Hitler's atrocities, another book to add to the list is Adolf Hitler's Mein Kampf. Their premise was that there is an elite that wants to merge America into a one world government, ruled by a socialistic or (according to members of the Nation of Islam) fascistic dictatorship.
There are people I know who believe we are heading toward this goal, which (for them) will culminate in the Antichrist's rule of the world. Right now, we see a lot of emphasis on globalism in the news. Sean Hannity mocks conspiracy theorists as he plays the Twilight Zone theme song, but he and Dick Morris acknowledged that they may have a valid point, now that Obama is allegedly pushing for an international system of economic regulation. Treasury Secretary Geithner said that he was open to the idea of a global currency, before backtracking on the idea. And the AP article above remarks that Obama is moving away from the idea of American exceptionalism, towards greater cooperation with the nations.
Good or bad? There are probably conspiracy theorists who will say that Bush took this country down to set the stage for a coming New World Order. You know what Palpatine did on the Star Wars prequels: creating crises for him to solve so that he could gain power for himself and create a dictatorship? Some believe that this happens in real life, and they view wars, the current economic crisis, and the scare over global warming as coming excuses for a one world government. While Obama talks about peace, conspiracy theorists will say that such talk is often a cover for an attempt to gain power.
Do we have cause to fear? I don't know. We should keep our minds open. On some level, all of the countries of the world are in this together, and we shouldn't be afraid of cooperation. And, while many would consider "American exceptionalism" to be insulting because it implies that America is better than other countries, we should value all nations as exceptional in their own way. Hopefully, our current push towards globalism won't lead to the destruction of nations as nations, but will respect their (and our) sovereignty.
Apocalyptic forecasts do not always pan out. Armstrongites grew up hearing that Germany would unite and become the Beast power, and we thought that was about to happen when the Berlin wall came tumbling down. But it hasn't panned out that way.
Maybe we shouldn't always expect the worse or fear cooperation among countries. But we should also remember that human nature has a selfish, power-hungry dimension, so we should keep on our guard, in some way, shape, and form.
The Recent Shooting
I feel a need to comment on the recent shooting in Binghamton, New York, although I have absolutely no idea what to say. It's all over the news, and I don't want to look insensitive by writing about one of my usual light subjects.
I feel like I hear about this sort of incident all of the time: a disgruntled person goes on a killing spree, then he kills himself. Roughly a decade ago, there were the two teens who did that at their Colorado high school. More recently, there was the man who shot all of those Amish children, as well as the shooting at Virginia Tech. (I just checked out a book on the latter tragedy.)
Why has all of this been happening in my lifetime? Did it occur as much before the 1990's? Are more people depressed at this time in history? I'm not just talking about the present economic crisis, but it seems like everywhere I turn people are on medication for depression. Did people know how to cope better in the "old" days? Maybe there was more community support, whereas nowadays some feel as if the world does not care about them and thus act out in a disastrous manner. I don't know.
At my AA meeting today, two people talked about problems they were facing--legally, economically, socially, etc. One of them was in tears as she told us her dilemma. Another person there told the woman that she was teaching him to come to a meeting whatever he might be experiencing--trial, death of a loved one, etc. I've often thought that it's unfortunate a person has to be an alcoholic to go to AA, a place where people can share and gain hope. Life is hard. It's insecure, as we see with the shooter who's now in the news, who lost his job at IBM. As I was thinking during a fit of insomnia last night, life is downright scary!
I have a hard time hating the shooters, since they often have a lot of pain, and they generally feel bad enough about what they did to kill themselves afterwards. But they have no right to allow their pain to put others in even greater pain, to rob people of their future by taking their lives. That's where love should come in.
I think of the episode of Desperate Housewives, in which Laurie Metcalf is holding the supermarket hostage because her husband cheated on her. Lynette tells her, "We all have pain, but we don't go out shooting people! We deal with it." Good point, but "suck it up, you're on your own" doesn't exactly reassure people. It only reflects our current extreme individualism, under which people don't care for one another.
I'm sure liberal and conservatives will make their respective plugs on the issue of gun control, as they usually do in these sorts of tragedies. Liberals will say the tragedy occurred because guns are so available in the United States, while conservatives will counter that the tragedies usually occur in gun-free zones, where shooters know that no one will pull out a gun and stop them. Society looks for a bandaid solution, whether it be gun control or conceal-and-carry. But there's something sick about where we are right now, and I can't really pinpoint what.
I feel like I hear about this sort of incident all of the time: a disgruntled person goes on a killing spree, then he kills himself. Roughly a decade ago, there were the two teens who did that at their Colorado high school. More recently, there was the man who shot all of those Amish children, as well as the shooting at Virginia Tech. (I just checked out a book on the latter tragedy.)
Why has all of this been happening in my lifetime? Did it occur as much before the 1990's? Are more people depressed at this time in history? I'm not just talking about the present economic crisis, but it seems like everywhere I turn people are on medication for depression. Did people know how to cope better in the "old" days? Maybe there was more community support, whereas nowadays some feel as if the world does not care about them and thus act out in a disastrous manner. I don't know.
At my AA meeting today, two people talked about problems they were facing--legally, economically, socially, etc. One of them was in tears as she told us her dilemma. Another person there told the woman that she was teaching him to come to a meeting whatever he might be experiencing--trial, death of a loved one, etc. I've often thought that it's unfortunate a person has to be an alcoholic to go to AA, a place where people can share and gain hope. Life is hard. It's insecure, as we see with the shooter who's now in the news, who lost his job at IBM. As I was thinking during a fit of insomnia last night, life is downright scary!
I have a hard time hating the shooters, since they often have a lot of pain, and they generally feel bad enough about what they did to kill themselves afterwards. But they have no right to allow their pain to put others in even greater pain, to rob people of their future by taking their lives. That's where love should come in.
I think of the episode of Desperate Housewives, in which Laurie Metcalf is holding the supermarket hostage because her husband cheated on her. Lynette tells her, "We all have pain, but we don't go out shooting people! We deal with it." Good point, but "suck it up, you're on your own" doesn't exactly reassure people. It only reflects our current extreme individualism, under which people don't care for one another.
I'm sure liberal and conservatives will make their respective plugs on the issue of gun control, as they usually do in these sorts of tragedies. Liberals will say the tragedy occurred because guns are so available in the United States, while conservatives will counter that the tragedies usually occur in gun-free zones, where shooters know that no one will pull out a gun and stop them. Society looks for a bandaid solution, whether it be gun control or conceal-and-carry. But there's something sick about where we are right now, and I can't really pinpoint what.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Lost, Determinism, and Free Will
After I watched last night's episode of Lost, I thought about Jonathan Edwards' Freedom of the Will. Essentially, Edwards did not believe in free will. For him, human beings can still make choices, but their choices are determined by their inclinations and desires.
On Lost last night, young Ben Linus is fatally wounded because Sayid had shot him in the previous episode. Because Ben Linus will grow up to be an evil, manipulative twit, some are not too eager to help him. Juliet, Kate, and Sawyer do help him, however, by taking him to the Others. What went through my mind was, "Well, maybe Ben will remember these people caring for him and won't grow up to be such a major you-know-what." But my hope was shot when Richard Alpert (a prominent figure among the Others) said that he will resurrect Ben, but the result will be that Ben will forget what has transpired and will become cold and heartless, the older Ben we've all come to know and love. And so we see reaffirmed a central idea in Lost: you can't change history, for everything happens as it's supposed to happen.
But couldn't Juliet, Kate, and Sawyer have decided to let Ben die, thereby changing history? I guess that's theoretically possible, but who they were as people militated against that. Juliet felt she couldn't allow a child to die, even if he is Ben Linus. Sawyer helped Ben because he loves Juliet. And I'm not sure what Kate's motivation is: maybe she likes Ben's father. In a sense, their choices are determined by their inclinations and desires, which pull them in one direction and not another.
Is the will free? There is a part of me that feels as if my choices flow from who I am--my desires, inclinations, the effect of my past upon me, what I know or don't know, etc. But there are clear areas in which I have free will: I can stay home, or I can go somewhere, and I don't feel I'm determined to go one way or another. On a certain level, my recovery from alcoholism rests on free will, as I resolve that, no matter how bad I may feel or how bad things may get, I will not take that first drink. I'd like to think I have some control over my own destiny.
On Lost last night, young Ben Linus is fatally wounded because Sayid had shot him in the previous episode. Because Ben Linus will grow up to be an evil, manipulative twit, some are not too eager to help him. Juliet, Kate, and Sawyer do help him, however, by taking him to the Others. What went through my mind was, "Well, maybe Ben will remember these people caring for him and won't grow up to be such a major you-know-what." But my hope was shot when Richard Alpert (a prominent figure among the Others) said that he will resurrect Ben, but the result will be that Ben will forget what has transpired and will become cold and heartless, the older Ben we've all come to know and love. And so we see reaffirmed a central idea in Lost: you can't change history, for everything happens as it's supposed to happen.
But couldn't Juliet, Kate, and Sawyer have decided to let Ben die, thereby changing history? I guess that's theoretically possible, but who they were as people militated against that. Juliet felt she couldn't allow a child to die, even if he is Ben Linus. Sawyer helped Ben because he loves Juliet. And I'm not sure what Kate's motivation is: maybe she likes Ben's father. In a sense, their choices are determined by their inclinations and desires, which pull them in one direction and not another.
Is the will free? There is a part of me that feels as if my choices flow from who I am--my desires, inclinations, the effect of my past upon me, what I know or don't know, etc. But there are clear areas in which I have free will: I can stay home, or I can go somewhere, and I don't feel I'm determined to go one way or another. On a certain level, my recovery from alcoholism rests on free will, as I resolve that, no matter how bad I may feel or how bad things may get, I will not take that first drink. I'd like to think I have some control over my own destiny.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Abstinence Teacher, Death Penalty
I'm taking books back to the library tomorrow, so I want to make some last minute comments about them.
1. Source: Tom Perrota, The Abstinence Teacher (New York: St. Martin's Press, 2007). For more information, see Hard-Headed Practical Wisdom.
Ruth is a liberal sex education teacher who hates having to teach her school's abstinence-only program. Tim is a recovering addict who attends the ultra-conservative church that has persecuted Ruth. The two meet when Ruth launches a crusade against Tim because he led his soccer team in prayer.
Ruth finds herself drawn to Tim, not just because of his looks, but also on account of his vulnerability. To her surprise, he doesn't come across as a narrow-minded, judgmental, dogmatic prude, but rather as a humble sinner trying to get a fresh start and stay on the righteous path. Although Tim feels guilty that he did not "witness" to her, in a manner of speaking, he did.
This book is not Christian fiction, although the author says in his intro that he's attended Promise Keeper rallies. He makes fun of abstinence-only sex education and presents gay characters in a positive light. But his Christian conservative characters are likable as well. Not only is there Tim, but there's also Tim's pastor, Pastor Dennis, who cares sincerely for his flock. Ruth usually knew him as an angry voice speaking against her liberalism at school board meetings, but she saw his tender, human side when he came to her door, looking for Tim out of concern.
One character who sticks out in my mind is Jay, whom Pastor Dennis leads to Christ at a wedding reception. Drunken Jay tries to beat up Pastor Dennis for speaking ill of his favorite porn star, but Pastor Dennis confronts him with his need for a Savior. Jay accepts Jesus and immediately feels a sense of peace--as if he is not alone and can make a fresh start at life. But Jay eventually finds that he cannot recover that feeling, and he becomes bored with the path of righteousness. Near the end of the book, he ditches a Promise Keepers-type rally and goes to a strip bar.
That got me thinking: Is the Christian life supposed to be fun? Many people view it as an adventure, in which God uses them to accomplish something significant and enables them to bring goodness to a distressed and sinful world. It gives them meaning in life. While some may "feel" God in the course of their journey, others wonder if he's really there at all. Even a Christian as great as Mother Theresa felt this way! There are times when I feel like I've found my spiritual niche, and then there are times when I feel lost: as if I'm not accomplishing much for God, or God doesn't know my address, or I don't know what I believe, or the certainty and zeal of evangelicals appears foreign to me. Jay experiences this, as (eventually) does Tim, who relapses, ditches the soccer team, gets booted out of the house by his wife, and goes to Ruth's home.
The book is good because of the religious and spiritual questions that it raises. My disappointment was with the end, in which Tim hangs out at Ruth's house. Unfortunately, as with most stories these days, The Abstinence Teacher presents romance as the ultimate solution to life's problems!
2. Thomas Cahill, A Saint on Death Row: The Story of Dominique Green (New York: Random House, 2009).
There is a strong part of me that supports the death penalty. When I watch a movie and see a character who is so callous, so selfish, so brutal and inhumane, I shout at the screen, "Kill him!" I noticed as I looked at the program description for tonight's Lost that Kate will try to save young Ben Linus' life. Ben Linus is a sinister, manipulative worm of a person, and Sayid shot Ben's younger self. "Good thing we won't have to deal with Ben Linus anymore," I thought. So much for that wishful thinking!
In real life, there are indeed evil people, but the issue of capital punishment can be quite messy. There's a criminal justice system that isn't always just and fair, especially to poor minorities. There are prosecutors and defense attorneys who care nothing for the truth and work to suppress it. There are politicians who exploit the deaths of criminals for political gain. There are the innocent people who are executed, the guilty ones who have families and friends who care about them, and the convicts who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, believe it or not, there are the people on death row who have goodness in them.
I didn't exactly find Dominique Green to be a "saint" as I read Thomas Cahill's book, but I still felt sorry for him. Here is a young man who had a wretched childhood, and he was executed when he was much younger than I am. Even the victim's family wanted the state to show him clemency, once it concluded that his trial was grossly unfair. When I acknowledge the humanity of those on death row, I'm reluctant to say "kill them" or to talk about "justice" with detached coldness. I don't like cutting people's lives so short, and I wonder if there's a way to give them a second chance.
At the same time, I'm not sure if Cahill's giving me the full story about Dominique Green's experience (e.g., the denial of his appeals, etc.). I felt the same way when I watched the movie Hurricane, which noted examples of the system denying Hurricane Carter a fair trial and appeals. "Surely not all of the system is racist," I thought to myself. And, sure enough, when I looked on the Internet, I saw that the system made a fairly legitimate case for its actions.
After reading this book, I am not as trigger-happy when I consider the death penalty, but I'm also not prepared to say that America should never use it. When I remember the thugs who killed James Bird, or the callous murder of Matthew Shepherd, I have a desire for justice.
1. Source: Tom Perrota, The Abstinence Teacher (New York: St. Martin's Press, 2007). For more information, see Hard-Headed Practical Wisdom.
Ruth is a liberal sex education teacher who hates having to teach her school's abstinence-only program. Tim is a recovering addict who attends the ultra-conservative church that has persecuted Ruth. The two meet when Ruth launches a crusade against Tim because he led his soccer team in prayer.
Ruth finds herself drawn to Tim, not just because of his looks, but also on account of his vulnerability. To her surprise, he doesn't come across as a narrow-minded, judgmental, dogmatic prude, but rather as a humble sinner trying to get a fresh start and stay on the righteous path. Although Tim feels guilty that he did not "witness" to her, in a manner of speaking, he did.
This book is not Christian fiction, although the author says in his intro that he's attended Promise Keeper rallies. He makes fun of abstinence-only sex education and presents gay characters in a positive light. But his Christian conservative characters are likable as well. Not only is there Tim, but there's also Tim's pastor, Pastor Dennis, who cares sincerely for his flock. Ruth usually knew him as an angry voice speaking against her liberalism at school board meetings, but she saw his tender, human side when he came to her door, looking for Tim out of concern.
One character who sticks out in my mind is Jay, whom Pastor Dennis leads to Christ at a wedding reception. Drunken Jay tries to beat up Pastor Dennis for speaking ill of his favorite porn star, but Pastor Dennis confronts him with his need for a Savior. Jay accepts Jesus and immediately feels a sense of peace--as if he is not alone and can make a fresh start at life. But Jay eventually finds that he cannot recover that feeling, and he becomes bored with the path of righteousness. Near the end of the book, he ditches a Promise Keepers-type rally and goes to a strip bar.
That got me thinking: Is the Christian life supposed to be fun? Many people view it as an adventure, in which God uses them to accomplish something significant and enables them to bring goodness to a distressed and sinful world. It gives them meaning in life. While some may "feel" God in the course of their journey, others wonder if he's really there at all. Even a Christian as great as Mother Theresa felt this way! There are times when I feel like I've found my spiritual niche, and then there are times when I feel lost: as if I'm not accomplishing much for God, or God doesn't know my address, or I don't know what I believe, or the certainty and zeal of evangelicals appears foreign to me. Jay experiences this, as (eventually) does Tim, who relapses, ditches the soccer team, gets booted out of the house by his wife, and goes to Ruth's home.
The book is good because of the religious and spiritual questions that it raises. My disappointment was with the end, in which Tim hangs out at Ruth's house. Unfortunately, as with most stories these days, The Abstinence Teacher presents romance as the ultimate solution to life's problems!
2. Thomas Cahill, A Saint on Death Row: The Story of Dominique Green (New York: Random House, 2009).
There is a strong part of me that supports the death penalty. When I watch a movie and see a character who is so callous, so selfish, so brutal and inhumane, I shout at the screen, "Kill him!" I noticed as I looked at the program description for tonight's Lost that Kate will try to save young Ben Linus' life. Ben Linus is a sinister, manipulative worm of a person, and Sayid shot Ben's younger self. "Good thing we won't have to deal with Ben Linus anymore," I thought. So much for that wishful thinking!
In real life, there are indeed evil people, but the issue of capital punishment can be quite messy. There's a criminal justice system that isn't always just and fair, especially to poor minorities. There are prosecutors and defense attorneys who care nothing for the truth and work to suppress it. There are politicians who exploit the deaths of criminals for political gain. There are the innocent people who are executed, the guilty ones who have families and friends who care about them, and the convicts who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, believe it or not, there are the people on death row who have goodness in them.
I didn't exactly find Dominique Green to be a "saint" as I read Thomas Cahill's book, but I still felt sorry for him. Here is a young man who had a wretched childhood, and he was executed when he was much younger than I am. Even the victim's family wanted the state to show him clemency, once it concluded that his trial was grossly unfair. When I acknowledge the humanity of those on death row, I'm reluctant to say "kill them" or to talk about "justice" with detached coldness. I don't like cutting people's lives so short, and I wonder if there's a way to give them a second chance.
At the same time, I'm not sure if Cahill's giving me the full story about Dominique Green's experience (e.g., the denial of his appeals, etc.). I felt the same way when I watched the movie Hurricane, which noted examples of the system denying Hurricane Carter a fair trial and appeals. "Surely not all of the system is racist," I thought to myself. And, sure enough, when I looked on the Internet, I saw that the system made a fairly legitimate case for its actions.
After reading this book, I am not as trigger-happy when I consider the death penalty, but I'm also not prepared to say that America should never use it. When I remember the thugs who killed James Bird, or the callous murder of Matthew Shepherd, I have a desire for justice.
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