March 30, 2011

Editor’s note. This post is in part an experiment. It was written from my phone and therefore may include (more) typos and grammar errors (than usual).

I have been thinking recently about perspective. It is one of those fantastic human things that skews and changes everything. It defines who we are, what we believe, even the choices we make.

Perspective is that which allows two humans with the same fact come to two different conclusions about what those facts mean.

Take the photo of the drink for instance.  Ski is a drink that many people in the U.S have never heard of. It is made with real lemon and orange juice, and in would describe it as perhaps a cross between Fresca and Mountain Dew with no nasty aftertaste.

Ski is my absolute favorite drink in the world. But when I have new people try this sweet ambrosia I always receive one of two reactions.

1) I love it. (This is the correct reaction, naturally)

2) It tastes like Mr. Clean!

And I kid you, the second reaction is always said word for word with no prompting from me. Mr. Clean is always the one mentioned.

This always leaves me wanting to ask a question, naturally. Namely, how do they know what Mr. Clean tastes like?

I’m always told things like scent, guess work, and imagination. To date no one has admitted to giving Mr. Clean a taste test.

Presented with as many facts as can be, a decision is made based in the end on preference.

This leads me over to questions I get asked alot.  Do I believe in a young earth or old earth? What about evolution?  (more on the the answer to those questions later)

Typically if the answer I give isn’t satisfactory I’m asked the usual follow up questions. How oh how can I not come to the “obvious” conclusion based on the facts?

As humans we put precedence on some facts while ignoring others. As humans we draw conclusions.  Sometimes these conclusions are really undeniable. But more often than not there is no way we can absolutely be 100% certain. We could be wrong.

So the answer to the question of how I can come to a different conclusion is really quite simple.

If we disagree it’s because I have a Mr. Clean perspective.

March 23, 2011

Over at Wesdraws.com there’s another interesting conversation happening. (It seems as though Wes is determined to keep me updating by compelling me to answer his questions!)

Recently, Dan Haseltin of Jars of Clay fame wrote an article discussing whether or not offensive art can be Christian. It’s really an interesting read and you should check it out here.

This article led Wes to ask a slightly different question: Should Christianity art offend?

It’s probably one of the largest discussions I’ve seen at the site, having over 70 responses as of this writing. The topics have ranged from what is offensive, to the question of why nudity is wrong and violence is ok, and the point of ‘showing it all’, being “real” or just “trying to be cool”.

It’s clearly a heated topic with a variety of opinions, and it really got me thinking.

Should Christian Art offend? Should Christian anything offend? Are we allowed to be offensive, or are we called to be perfect paragons of light, shining only peace and love while never skating on the edge of unruliness or offensiveness?

As always, when faced with such questions, I feel compelled to turn to the Word and the Man that I believe in. The Man who IS the Word in fact. Jesus.

And so I have to ask, was Jesus ever offensive? And you know what? I think He was. Several occasions come to mind where I believe He most likely offended people. I remember reading when Jesus called people hypocrites, Herod a fox, and even when He turned down a disciple for not giving up everything immediately to follow Him.

But one occasion especially comes to mind: Matthew 21. Let me quote the verses for you.

12 Jesus entered the Temple and began to drive out all the people buying and selling animals for sacrifice. He knocked over the tables of the money changers and the chairs of those selling doves. 13 He said to them, “The Scriptures declare, ‘My Temple will be called a house of prayer,’ but you have turned it into a den of thieves!”

Whoah. Jesus walked into a temple and kicked people out. He turned over their tables and chairs. He called them little more than a den of thieves. And these were the guys working in the Temple! That would be akin to me walking into my church, knocking over the Secretary’s desk and then kicking her out.

I’m pretty sure the money changers were offended. But Jesus had a very real point to make that day. (And it’s a good one, but I’ll save that for another post)

These people were doing something very wrong, and doing so in the Temple no less. And Jesus was going to say the truth, no matter how forcefully it needed to be said, no matter how offensive it might come to those who needed to hear it.

Jesus wasn’t going to let the fear of offense dilute the power of truth. And we shouldn’t either as Christians.

There is a fine line to walk. Jesus didn’t turn over those tables and chairs for the sake of the point. He turned over the tables and chairs as He made the point. He didn’t offend to tell the truth. He told the truth even if it offended. And there’s a large difference.

Allow me to put it this way. Imagine you know two people for ten years. One who cursed and swore every other word of every sentence. And one who never once uttered an expletive. If on the tenth anniversary of meeting these two individuals both spoke an expletive would you react to the first? Would you react to the second?

I would hazard a guess that to the first it would be business as usual. But to the second you might do a spit take. Because it was so out of character and place it took you by surprise.

When it comes to offense we must ask ourselves why we are doing what we are doing. To glorify God first? Or to grab attention in the hopes that it might eventually glorify God.

If you offend for the sake of offending just to elevate your message, you only dilute it.

But if you dilute your message for the sake of not offending you have done equal harm to your words.

Should Christian Art (or anything) offend? Yes if necessary. Just not by default. Not as a go to tool. But should it avoid offending at all costs? No. Christianity is about God first and the world second. Not the other way around. It is better to offend with truth than to make peace with a lie.

March 16, 2011

Over at Wesdraws, Wes posed a few very interesting questions in his latest post.

He asked:

“Do you think there is a difference between a “believer” and a “disciple”?

If so, what differentiates the two?

Which is more important?”

I read through the answers, all very well stated and clearly explained. But I found myself disagreeing with them to a small extent.

What most commenters said was basically, “Yes, there is a difference. (Although maybe there shouldn’t be) Believing is something anyone can do, but discipleship is growing/learning/etc. therefore it is better.”

But it’s not. Not necessarily. I’d like to take a look at a few verses of the Bible before getting into more of my answer. Because I do believe there is a difference between a disciple and a believer.

John 6:

53 So Jesus said again, “I tell you the truth, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you cannot have eternal life within you. 54 But anyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise that person at the last day. 55 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 56 Anyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him. 57 I live because of the living Father who sent me; in the same way, anyone who feeds on me will live because of me. 58 I am the true bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will not die as your ancestors did (even though they ate the manna) but will live forever.”
59 He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum.
60 Many of his disciples said, “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?”
61 Jesus was aware that his disciples were complaining, so he said to them, “Does this offend you? 62 Then what will you think if you see the Son of Man ascend to heaven again? 63 The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life. 64 But some of you do not believe me.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning which ones didn’t believe, and he knew who would betray him.) 65Then he said, “That is why I said that people can’t come to me unless the Father gives them to me.”
66 At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him.

Now I want to point out something here. There are many people that Jesus is talking to. But a few of them are actually disciples. They are referred to specifically as that. In fact, the text goes so far as to say he said to THEM (the disciples).

A disciple is someone who is learning. Whether it be teaching, methods, philosophy, or something else. They are a learner. These people followed after Jesus because he had something interesting to say, something they may not have heard before, and they wanted to learn from Him.

But what Jesus decided to say and teach that day was very difficult to understand and even more difficult to accept. Many of the disciples did not understand. But even more than that, the text tells us they did not BELIEVE Jesus’ words. So they left him. Turned away from him.

My point today is that discipleship is great. It’s important. Very important. Some of the commenters at wesdraws pointed out Paul’s writing that mentions even demons believe in Jesus. That we strive for more.

But to the opposite point, anyone can learn. Anyone can listen. But without belief, and therefore application of that belief, you can walk away from Jesus having truly gained nothing.

Many people stood before Jesus one day and heard his words. They were disciples of Christ But they walked away from him because in the end they weren’t believers of Christ. How much did their learning do?

So to answer Wes’ questions:

There is a difference between a believer and a disciple.

A disciple is someone who strives to learn from another.
A believer is someone who puts their faith in another.

But neither is more important than the other.

In fact, each is broken without the other.

A believer who does not learn and grow is stagnant.
A learner who does not believe is lost.

March 14, 2011

This is a short article I think, one born from a conversation I was having earlier.

You see, they were talking of some people out there who claim the Christian name but don’t live up to it. These people apparently say the current tragedy in Japan is some sort of divine punishment from God. And this friend were talking about how bad this makes Christians look to others.

And I agree in principle. But in loudly complaining about these people in many ways my friend only served to draw more attention to them. And they clearly don’t deserve it.

The problem for my friend is they know people who only see the ugly side of Christianity.

But it’s good to know these sorts of people. In fact, that brings me to the main point of this post. You see, I think every Christian should have at least one (if not many) atheist friend(s).

I had a co-worker at one point who was atheist. I still remember the first day it really came out. That he was absolutely completely convinced that there is no God. And that I was absolutely convinced there is. The best description for this occasion would be two cats meeting for the very first time. Our backs arched, we circled, each ready to claw the other, waiting to see who would strike first.

I don’t remember who struck first, but I do remember there was a lot of back and forth for nearly an hour.

But the first day wasn’t our best day for argument and debate. It was merely a beginning. Because we were co-workers and we did have to speak to each other often. So we had to see each other as more than just that Atheist/Christian guy. We saw our strengths, weaknesses, likes, and dislikes. And we found we had many things in common. In fact, outside of our spiritual beliefs we were more alike than unalike.

My co-worker challenged me everyday. On what I believed, why I believed, how I believed. And I too challenged him. He sometimes told me that I was the first real Christian he had ever met. This was both heart-warming and heart-breaking. After all he had been in church as a younger man. For me to be the first is a sad fact.

And while I had known that Atheists can be and are good people, there is always the prejudice… the temptation to believe that they aren’t really. That they’re different from Christians somehow. Less moral.

And while it was true that my co-worker and I disagreed on certain points of morality I can say with a strong confidence that he is a good good man. One I am glad to call friend.

We are no longer co-workers, and we don’t communicate as much as we did before. And I can’t say that he became a Christian because of me. But I think I can say he knows more of what a real Christian is because of what God did in my life and in his.

And while he could never convince me that God isn’t real, he taught me many things through his actions and words. He challenged me to look at my spirituality, my beliefs, in new ways that I might never have done on my own.

Every Christian should have at least one Atheist friend. And the other way around too. Through such relationships we can challenge our preconceptions. And our faith can grow.