All Pomp and Circumstance?

Late on Christmas Eve we watched the Christmas Eve service at the Vatican.  My wife and I were deeply moved by the proceedings and the important message given by Pope Benedict.  During all of this, someone in the room with us asked, "What spiritual benefit is there in any of that.  It's nothing more than pageantry."  I said nothing because I was tired, but more importantly, because it was a rhetorical question.  It was really a criticism--nay, a repudiation--couched in a question.

Now I would like to at least ponder what this person was suggesting.  I will answer the question with another question: What is the spiritual benefit of the banal, austere, drab, and, yes, rote ceremonies typical of so many protestant services?

I do get the person's alleged concern.  In this person's thinking, all the pomp and circumstance of the high church service equals spiritual complacency, ritual, and worship without substance.  And I would quickly agree that to many of those attending St. Peter's that night, all that pageantry was nothing more than just one more bulb to be hung on this year's Christmas tree.  But am I supposed to believe such hypocrisy is avoided by reducing the service to the din of rock music, kiddie recitals, and Silent Night sung in a large auditorium lit only by hundreds of candles held high by the happy attendees?  Sorry, all too many attending that so-called "sincere" service only saw it as seasonal entertainment.

The pomp and circumstance, or the lack thereof have no bearing whatsoever on the spiritual benefit to those attending.  The spiritual benefit comes solely from an emptying of one's self to the splendor, beauty, power, and ineffable love God has shown us through the unexpected, humiliating, and austere incarnation of Himself in a human infant.  Jesus, which means, "God saves," and Christ, which means, "The Anointed One," is the Emmanuel,"God with us."

God didn't display such awesome power for our entertainment.  He came as He did because we are a lost and doomed people.  And even though we didn't deserve it, God has intervened to save us from ourselves.  Because that infant child laying in a manger would grow up and obediently enter death for us by dying on the cross, and then overcome that death by being raised to life, and then ascend to heaven to rule over all from the right hand of God, we no longer have to live in fear of death; we no longer are without hope; we are no longer a marginalized and beaten humanity.  No, all of that is past for us if we simply trust this Jesus for our life, purpose, meaning, and provision.

In the presence of such good news, in the power of such love, shouldn't the question become, "How can any of us fail to fall prostrate before God in total adoration, reverence, awe, and abandonment?"  The venue we find ourselves should have little bearing on our response to our Good, powerful, Creator, God.  Who God is, and what He has accomplished should bowl us over with little provocation from outside stimuli.

Until we come to fully comprehend just how much God loves us, I'm afraid our church services, whether high or low, will tend to devolve to routine.

Having said all that, doesn't God deserve the pomp and circumstance?  Check out the throne room descriptions recorded in the scriptures (e.g., Is. 6:1-8).  They simply aren't low key affairs.  I think the Roman and Eastern Orthodox churches have made a valuable contribution to worship by trying to replicate the ecstasy and beauty of the throne of heaven.  The only caveat I would have to this is the Lord would not have us stay there, but go out into the dark, tormented world and spread the light of His love.  The administration of mercy to the afflicted--regardless of who they might be, or disposition we might find them in--is the kind of pomp and circumstance that will always result in spiritual benefit.

Into

One of the most hopeful and encouraging passages from the Bible--at least it should be--is the oft quoted John 3:16:

"For in this manner God loved the world, that he gave [His] one-and-only-unique son, so that everyone who believes in Him would not perish but would have eternal life."

God has heard our cries of despair, frustration, loss, grief, anger, confusion, and hopelessness.  He has provided the way back to dwelling with Him and Him with us, where our despair is turned to joy, our frustration to contentment, our loss to unending provision, our grief to solace, our anger to joy, our confusion to understanding, and our hopelessness to security.  And the way back is believing in God's Son, Jesus the Christ, whom He sent.

God is ready to deliver us from everything we lament (above) and the root cause of all our lamentations, which is death.  All we must do is accept the gift by believing in His Son.  But what does this mean, exactly?

Here, the Greek language, which was used to originally record the above verse, helps us to answer this question. The Greek preposition translated, in (highlighted in above translation) is actually the Greek preposition,εις. It is perfectly correct to translate this as, "in."  But εις differs from the Greek preposition,εν, which means in, on, or among, in that εν describes a static position, whereas εις means a movement from a position outside of something to a position inside the something; thus, εις is better translated, "into."  So we have, "...who believes into Him would not perish...."

Therefore, the believing--faith--trust--God calls us to is the same He has always required of us: a total surrender of ourselves into Him.  And this is not meant in the Eastern religion sense of becoming absorbed into the One by completely obliterating one's Self.  Quite the contrary,believing into God's Son means to surrender ourselves totally into Him through an unswerving trust He will bring us to being the very Self He created for us to be, as we respond and act in complete conformity with His will.  True believing is dynamic, not static.  This is what St. Paul meant when he wrote,

"...with fear and and trembling, work out fully the salvation of yourselves. For God is the one who effectively works within you both to desire and to work efficiently for the sake of [His] good pleasure."

Faith--believing--trust is not simply assenting to the fact Jesus is whom He claimed to be, as the English preposition, "in," can so easily imply.  Instead, we are to believe dynamically by fully investing all that we are, through both word and deed, into our Creator--who was, and is, and is to come--through His Son, Jesus the Christ.

To dwell together with God is to live life to the fullest forever in genuine rest.  God invites us to His rest because of the faithfulness of His Son, Jesus the Christ. All we must do is accept the invitation by believing into Him.

Hate Thy Neighbor?

A colleague of mine was chatting with me the other day about how he was preparing himself for the annual Christmas party at his neighbor's home.  He wasn't looking forward to it, as I will soon explain. Personally, I would have thought such affairs had long since died out with service station attendants, horse-drawn sleigh rides, barn dances, bomb shelters, and the I Love Lucy Show.  So, I thought to myself, how nice.

It was quite apparent my friend didn't share my sentiment.  He was dreading the event because--according to him--all his neighbors were ________s (the reader should fill in the political party of his/her choice here because I'm not interested in supporting or deprecating either party, either by implication or otherwise).  He went on to say this made them all idiots, and their candidate less than the lowest form of life.  "I hate the guy," he said.  Then he went on to say something I later wished I had had the wherewithal to challenge--hopefully kindly--on the spot.  Unfortunately, I don't do well in confrontational situations, even relatively benign ones, such as the one I'm relating, here.  Generally, I'm the type of person who must go to the quiet of his library to ponder an idea, opinion, comment, and what else that had been launched my way.  Then, after deliberation--sometimes careful, sometimes not so much--I might seek the person out to comment.  Of course, often times I will never see the person again, or the person had been speaking via the TV or some other unapproachable medium; so, I am left with an unresolved debate festering in my craw, like water slowly bubbling up through a clogged drain.

I don't know if I will speak with my colleague about his comment; I find it difficult conversing with him because he tends to be sarcastic and evasive.  However, I know you, dear reader, are open to discussing things with me, even though we might end up disagreeing with each other.

After unleashing his cache of vitriol at his hapless neighbors and their political candidate, my colleague said--I guess as a way of validating his opinion--"You see, I take the matter of right and wrong quite seriously."

In the words of Spock, "Fascinating, Captain."

What I am to understand from his addendum is party X, its candidate, and its supporters stand for what is wrong, and the opposing party Y, which my colleague supports along with its candidate and followers, stands for what is right.

I would like to say two things about this.  First,  I've heard people from the opposing party spew the same degree of hate for my friend's party, and with equal conviction.  Secondly, all the people who play this hate card--regardless of their allegiances--are deluded if they speak of hating someone and being right while also keeping a straight face.

Our Lord, Master, King Jesus the Christ made it very clear one cannot hate another and be in the right. He taught us,

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor’ and ‘hate your enemy. But I say to you, love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you,so that you may be like your Father in heaven, since he causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Even the tax collectors do the same, don’t they? And if you only greet your brothers, what more do you do? Even the Gentiles do the same, don’t they? So then, be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." [NET]

Top line: We are to love everyone because God loves everyone.  If God, who is the only one with the the authority and wisdom, and therefore the right to hate anyone, doesn't hate anyone, then it is the height of arrogance for any of us to believe it is right to hate others--regardless of whom the others might be.

The buck needs to stop with each of us on this issue of hating; we can't look to others to solve the problem. If we pass the buck we will see the world continue to grew more bigoted, more divided, and more disordered.  And the violence that naturally accompanies such chaos will grow ever more virulent and commonplace.

I Must Decrease

In his book The Four Loves, C.S.Lewis talks about the various ways affection can turn bad.  I expanded on his ideas about love in my book, A Final Word on Love.  But here, I'm interested in Lewis' discussion of how some families react when a member excels beyond the confines of what has been the established boundaries of the family. I'm not talking about a black sheep in the negative sense, but one who goes beyond his kin in experience, ideas, education, or interests.  The reaction--better said, the reactionary response--flows from a jealousy that is justified in the minds of the jealous by a belief the so-called errant member has somehow betrayed the family.  The disgruntled members see the black sheep's outside interests as symptomatic of an unrequited love.  In the minds of those who remained unchanged within the family circle, there is only one history, and that history must establish the future, so the history for each new generation remains identical to the last.  If dad was a plumber, all his sons must be plumbers.  If grandma gave red socks to the grandchildren at Christmas time, then the new grandmother must do the same for the new grandchildren, and so on.

Affection kept in its proper place is a good thing.  But the affection that galvanized this family had turned into a demon imprisoning the family in a narrow confinement of a stagnant, fearful existence.  When the black sheep returned, excited to share his discoveries, he met with a cold reception.  With the fires of enthusiasm quickly quenched by the tepid suspicious looks from his loved ones, the black sheep would soon find himself being conveyed to a freezer well stocked with passive aggression, snide remarks, criticisms of anything he experienced, and comparisons to prove how much better it has always been within the family.  All of which done in an attempt to shame the confused black sheep into capitulating and returning to the fold--even to dumb down to the level of denying he ever had a thought not thought by the rest.  Some people it seems are threatened by relatives--especially children--who advance themselves.  And they retaliate by accusing the hapless members of failing to love them.  They might not explicitly say so, but they don't have to.

This pathology is all rather foreign to me because my family of origin always wanted to learn something new.  My octogenarian father once asked if he could borrow my book on nanoparticles because he didn't know anything about them.  So when I witness families terrified of their child's expanding universe--and yes, I do think it is a fear--I'm dumbfounded and saddened.

I have always wanted my children to be better than me, and to pursue their own dreams.  I expressed this desire to some friends once over dinner, and they vilified me for it.  They accused me of burdening my children with an impossible expectation.   They weren't complimenting me, either.  No, they were quite put off by my idea.  Apparently, they saw no way for anyone to exceed beyond the PhD I had obtained.  All I can say is, "I didn't expect a sort of Spanish Inquisition."  After all, how far a person progresses academically is really only a small part of what defines him or her.  Besides, there are all sorts of equally valuable skills and knowledge to be earned outside the Ivy walls.  In any event, my friends were quite mistaken.  My son--who has a master's degree--at thirty years is far more knowledgeable, experienced, and talented than I was at his age with my doctorate.  He may not as yet Piled it higher and Deeper, but he has moved light-years beyond me, for which I am very proud.  And he's gotten there through his own hard work.

What got me to thinking about all this is John the Baptist.  God had called John to prepare the way for the Messiah, Jesus the Christ.  John untiringly did his assigned task, bringing little attention to himself.  Indeed, when given the third degree to find out whom he claimed to be, John said he was nothing more than a mere voice in the wilderness.  People joined John as his disciples, but many would eventually abandon him to follow Jesus.  And John encouraged it because all that mattered to John was exalting Jesus.  In all that John did he communicated, "He must increase and I must decrease."

John loved with God's Love.  Such love is never threatened, never jealous, never competitive, never haughty, never condescending, never shaming, never self-serving, but always striving to see the next person's life shine like a star in the firmament.  And what's really fascinating about this love is, when it's allowed to flow, everyone comes away shining brightly in the sky.

What a better world it would be if everyone lived by the creed, "He must increase and I must decrease."

All the World's a Sandbox

It seems more and more of my friends and acquaintances are feeling bummed these days.  Everyone seems to be hunkering down in self-protection against some unseen, ill-defined, menace.  I am hearing a lot of mumbling about a coming zombie apocalypse in the same breath of fiscal cliffs, lost freedoms, and declining incentives.  A friend recently told me to watch and see if there won't be a glut of people leaving their jobs because it's more lucrative to stay room and sponge off the government.

I found myself praying about all of this fear and pending doom, lamenting about how the world is getting worse.  But I' m not so sure about that.  A more accurate statement is probably America is catching up with the rest of the world.  Until recently, we've had it pretty darn good in this country--at least in my life time.  We've remained largely insulated from the horrors and insecurities common in other parts of the world.  What I have been sensing is not so much the world getting worse, but a slow collapse of the American firewall between me and the rest of the world.  I'm feeling the heat, man.

So what?

Well, first of all, don't feel bad about feeling bad.  We are human beings, not Vulcans (thank the Lord for that).  Secondly, know your limitations, which for all of us are dangerously close to being limitless. Thirdly, know that we are all playing in the same sandbox.  And regardless of whether we might own a truck or a tractor, a bucket and shovel, or nothing, we all deep down want only one thing: to be told by the person digging in the sand next to us that they are glad we are there with them.

Yes, some who perhaps possess more toys than you, or even own a part of the sandbox, might appear oblivious to such a basic need, but trust me, they aren't.  I'm telling you, everyone wants to be able to play in the sandbox and be recognized and appreciated for it--everyone.

The sandbox has perhaps grown a bit more crowded; there's less sand to go around, and the toys have become smaller, more expensive, and more scarce.  It seems like it's no fun to play anymore.  Well, such a perspective is bound to depress anyone, even enough to make them want to give up.  But the perspective is misguided.  The problem is we are focused on the toys and the sandbox instead on what matters the most.

I'm proposing whether we live on Long Island or in a cardboard box in some remote jungle, which is to say we either own a piece of the sandbox and some toys or we dream about them, our contentment will ultimately only rest on one thing: being welcomed as a participant in the play.  In short, we all simply want to love and be loved.  I don't give a rip who we might be or what we might control, none of it matters except to love and be loved.

Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, you're such an idealist--such a hopeless romantic--such a naivete.

If we continue to view life from the perspective of the sandbox and toys within it, we will throw up our hands in despair.  Of course we will!  Because at the end of the day there isn't much any of us on an individual basis can do about the current status of the sandbox or its toys.  We might deny this, but deep down we all know it's true.  Consequently, some of us--perhaps most of us--give up, and the rest of us retaliate.  But these solutions only make matters worse for everybody.

Even though few of us can influence the sandbox or the toys, we can all most definitely affect everyone's basic human need.  On an individual by individual basis, regardless of our estate, disposition, health, or what have you, each of us has it in his or her individual prerogative to help another see his or her value.  All of us, regardless of the resources at hand, can exult another person.  All of us can love another human being.

What would happen if we all did what we all are capable of doing, instead of complaining about what is actually beyond our influence?

By the third century AD, the Roman Empire had become a very nasty place.  Infanticide and abortion were rampant.  Plagues were taking thousands of lives.  Money was so devalued, people resorted to bartering in order to survive.  Wars and violence escalated as people tried to capitalize on the growing destabilization of the empire.  The mighty Roman Dreadnought was listing and rapidly taking on water.

Sound familiar?

Yet in the midst of all that gloom and doom--yes, in spite of it--Christians, who were poor and persecuted, themselves--many to the point of painful death--sought to love their neighbor.  Within the maelstrom of carnage and fear, Christians trusted their true king, Jesus the Christ, and did what He requires, and many people came to see their lives changed.  The Empire around them went from rack to ruin, but many began to feel welcomed and honored again in the sandbox.  To be sure, it was a fleeting phenomenon--fleeting because before long even the church would shift its attention away from the Christ to the sandbox and the toys.

If Jesus is our Lord, Master, King, only turning away from Him will limit us from making a difference, not any other limitation.  Jesus equips us to love those in our home, our neighborhood, our jobs, our schools, or wherever we might be.  Each of us can make a difference in the lives of those next to us.  And if everyone were to love their neighbor, the sandbox would again become a wonderful place to play; there would be the sound of laughter instead of mourning--the fulfillment of dreams instead of bitter hopelessness.

The world will never be a utopia until Jesus returns to consummate His kingdom.  But we would all do better to attend to the matters within our control than to abdicate responsibility or continue to grab all we can for ourselves.  Jesus died on the cross that we might have the power to shine a light in the darkness.  Apprehend His power, and lead that person next to you back to the sandbox.

Keep Those Glasses On

As you may have noticed, I'm having an absolute heyday sifting through the archives of Chemical and Engineering News.  The latter is the official general interest news magazine of the American Chemical Society. C&E News goes back to 1923.  Perusing those back issues, as when reading old newspapers or watching old newsreels, is about as close as one can get to stepping into a time machine.  It's spellbinding to listen to ghosts from the past discuss their world.  The listener never knows what gems he might unearth in the process.

One such gem was written by the famous, prolific writer and scientist, the late Dr. Isaac Asimov.  His paper entitled, "The By-Product of Science Fiction," appeared on page 3882 of the August 13, 1956 edition of C&E News (I was only a little shy of two months old, then).  Dr. Asimov was troubling over the anti-intellectualism rampant in American culture, and how good science fiction served as a stronghold for a much needed respect of intelligence, and a possible model for jump-starting education towards producing the scientists and engineers woefully underrepresented in the general population, yet thoroughly needed to keep America technologically competitive in the world.

Dr. Asimov observed that intellectual pursuits were severely stigmatized, and how the entertainment industry used eyeglasses as a devise in its assault against thinking men and women.  Asimov wrote,

"Glasses in the popular visual arts of today are the symbol of developed intellect (presumably because of the belief on the part of the average man that educated men ruin their eyes through over-indulgence in the pernicious and unhealthy habit of reading). Ordinarily, the hero and heroine in a movie or television play do not wear glasses."

He was right, of course.  I immediately thought of the scene in The Big Sleep where Marlowe goes into a bookshop to get out of the rain and to possibly acquire some information.  He questions the female proprietor, and upon discovering she has a refined sophistication, quickly moves to know her better on a more personal basis, only to insist she first take off her glasses.  She does, lets her hair down, too, and closes up shop for the afternoon.  What transpires next is left to our imagination (an artifice the movie industry would do well to resurrect).

Dr. Asimov provided his own examples of how intelligence, as symbolized by the donning of eye-glasses, was synonymous with being unattractive, boring, and socially suicidal.  He summed up his point this way:

"No, glasses are not literally glasses.  They are merely a symbol, a symbol of intelligence.  The audience is taught two things: a) Evidence of extensive education is a social hindrance and causes unhappiness; b) formal education is unnecessary, can be minimized at will, and the resulting limited intellectual development leads to happiness."

All of which sounds a bit like "ignorance is bliss."  Perhaps it is.  Thinking too much can be depressing; the famous mathematician, Kurt Godel, was found dead, laying in the fetal position.

The stigma of intelligence has, unfortunately, persisted into the present day.  However, it isn't portrayed using eye-glasses so much any more; instead, the media have reincarnated the idea in the stereotypical geek.

Our society has put geeks on display.  Like the freak shows of old, we exhibit our geniuses in cages to gawk at, ridicule, and tease.  At best, we pity their malady; at worst, we despise them for it.  And this happens for the same reason it happened a half-century ago: the belief that intelligence equals dull, uninteresting, and ugly.

I don't know why this is so.  I suspect it is rooted in fear, somehow.  Knowledge and the use of knowledge is power, and people tend to fear power they can't wield themselves.  Alternatively, people might be afraid of what they might discover if they think about anything too intensely, so they avoid it--like turning up the volume on the car radio to drown out the sinister noise coming from the engine compartment.

Sadly, many Christians have bought into anti-intellectualism.  This is a colossal tragedy because our Lord, Master, King, Jesus the Christ is God dwelling with us.  We see God when we see Jesus.  This means we can finally know and understand Truth.  Jesus assures us that He is the only way, the truth and the life.  And He tells us this truth--the Truth--shall set us free.  Among many things, this means we can boldly engage in the myriad thoughts and ideas of this world to reveal truth and dismiss the lies; in short, we can fearlessly be lights shining in a dark world; indeed, that is why we are here.

Therefore, Christians should champion intelligence and the pursuit of knowledge.  Because Jesus the Christ lives and we confess uncompromised allegiance to Him as dwellers in His kingdom, we can confidently and proudly keep those glasses on.

There's Still a Remnant

A powerful, heartwarming, and true redemption story recently passed my desk.  It is actually fairly well known.  In fact, the Christian song writer, Matthew West, wrote a song called, Forgiveness, in honor of the remarkable woman whose story it is (check it out on YouTube).  It just goes to show I need to get out of my library more often.

If you already know the story, stay with me as I briefly review what happened for the rest of my readers who, as I, have been out of the loop.

Renee, a mother of twin daughters lost one of them in a car crash in Florida.  A twenty four year old man named, Eric, was drunk and rammed into the girl's car killing both the girl and her friend. Grimly, it is an all too common fate in this world.  I can't possibly know what it must be like to lose a child.  I try to think of the worst thing that ever happened to me and multiply it by a thousand, but I fear the pain I manage to conjure up falls way short of what Renee must have felt, and still feels.

Eric was arrested, tried, and sentenced to twenty two years.  It would seem all that was left for Renee to do was to pick up the pieces as best she could, and attempt to cope with unfathomable grief she was sure to carry the rest of her life.

But the story didn't end there.  Renee kept the mangled car, put it on a trailer, and carted it around to high schools as a prop for her to use as she lectured on the evils of drinking and driving.

Renee soon realized, though, she was harboring an unforgiving heart; so she began visiting Eric in prison.  She forgave him, and Eric, overwhelmed by such mercy when he couldn't even forgive himself, turned to Christ.  After gaining permission from the authorities, Eric began accompanying Renee on her lecture tours.  No longer was the message only about drunk driving, but a powerful witness to the healing impact of forgiveness.  Eric has since become like a son to Renee and her husband, and a brother to their two other children.  As a final gesture of restoration, Renee petitioned the court to have Eric's sentence reduced to eleven years so he can start his life anew.  I understand Eric is due to be released this month.

Wow!  Renee certainly knows who her King is, and knows what it means to dwell in His kingdom. If you listen to her, you will discover she is quick to deflect the story away from herself to God.  Renee gives God all the glory for this amazing redemption story.

Much can be said, and has been said about forgiveness using Renee's story.  But it is also an excellent illustration of true justice.

Renee could have, as many mothers have done in identical situations, demanded Eric's head on a platter.  And she could have easily validated her request on the basis of justice: an eye for an eye.... And most people would have supported her.  But Renee didn't pursue this natural reaction.  Instead, she clearly stepped back from her emotions long enough to listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit within her teach her something about true justice--that is, the justice of the Kingdom of God.

Think about it.  Eye for an eye, what we call distributive justice--everyone gets their due--doesn't lead to a just state--the right order of things.  If Eric's life had been taken in retribution for the loss of Renee's daughter's life, we would all end up where we started: the chaos--disorder--of death, where guilt and bitterness rule.

However, by extending mercy to Eric as Renee so lovingly did out of loving obedience to Jesus her Lord, King, Master, both her daughter's life and Eric's were redeemed. Renee's mercy snatched life from death, with the result of a movement from injustice to justice.  Placing her grief, anger, hurt, and bitterness at the feet of Jesus the Christ, restored the relationships between the players and God and between the players and players, all to the glory of God.

Of course, Eric might have chosen to reject Renee's outreach of mercy, or exploit it, but such actions would have been his responsibility, alone.  I cannot say if Renee considered this possibility when she first reached out to Eric.  The fact she did reach out to him in mercy, tells me she fully trusted God to bring true and final justice to the situation--regardless of the outcome.  And such trust on her part is not mindless, because true justice can only be administered in a given matter by someone who knows everything--past, present, future--of the circumstances, contexts, and lives involved.  Only God has such perfect insight, so only God can be perfectly just.

I rejoice, and praise God upon hearing accounts of Christians such as Renee; because it is the still, small voice of God telling us in a murky, dark, and noisy world what He told the prophet Elijah in similar circumstances: "I still have a remnant who hasn't bowed to Baal."