The cold, misty rain
gives way to blue skies,
and then again to change,
to snow or heat or floods from storms.
And then we look outside.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
The Jesus Test
The e-mail set me off. Maybe I already was in one of "those moods" and only needed a little spark on my fuel-soaked last nerve. Normally, I breeze right through these e-mails, hitting delete. They usually come from well-meaning folks, often from friends and not people I want to totally screen from my e-mail box with some sort of "rule." I don't read them and I don't respond to them.
Not so this one. After scrolling through all the addresses that got this e-mail, I came to a series of photos of Jesus. Nothing wrong with photos of Jesus. I like Jesus. Then I got to the bottom, where there was a "Jesus Test." It was pass/fail, it said. Send the e-mail to 10 people and I pass. Don't send it, and I fail. "This is the simplest test," it concluded. "If you Love God, and are not ashamed of all the marvelous things he has done for you, send this to ten people."
And here I thought I'd passed the "Jesus test" when I had that personal conversation with Him several years ago. He said to me, "Stephen, without Me, you fail. With me, you pass." And I said, "I'm with You, Bro!" (that's the short version)
Now I find out there's another test. Dang it all. How did I miss the test?
The appropriate thing, of course, was to hit delete and go back to work. But I'm weak. That's why I need Jesus in the first place. I tend to offend. And I probably did with my response to the e-mail sender:
"I appreciate the sentiment," I wrote, "but I reject the suggestion that I somehow love Jesus less if I don’t send this to other people. I’m not ashamed of Him, but I’m not sending it to anyone. Hopefully, everyone I know already knows that I’m not ashamed of Jesus. How about this: If you aren’t ashamed of Him, go sit with 10 non-believers and tell them about your personal relationship with Christ."
How's that for overly blunt? Just me spreading a little Christmas cheer, right?
In retrospect, I wish I'd sent nothing or that I'd sent something gentle (not that Jesus was always gentle, but, hey, I know Jesus and I'm not Him). I can be a real SOB. But I stand by my point, which is why I feel the need to spend my lunch hour both admonishing myself and sharing that point here: Our test is pass/fail, all right, but it has nothing to do with forwarding an e-mail. It has to do with saying, "I'm with You, Bro" or rejecting His help. If we really accepted His help, others should see it in the "fruit" of our lives. So while that wasn't the intent of the e-mail, that's the reminder I got from it: To bear more fruit and less spam.
Not so this one. After scrolling through all the addresses that got this e-mail, I came to a series of photos of Jesus. Nothing wrong with photos of Jesus. I like Jesus. Then I got to the bottom, where there was a "Jesus Test." It was pass/fail, it said. Send the e-mail to 10 people and I pass. Don't send it, and I fail. "This is the simplest test," it concluded. "If you Love God, and are not ashamed of all the marvelous things he has done for you, send this to ten people."
And here I thought I'd passed the "Jesus test" when I had that personal conversation with Him several years ago. He said to me, "Stephen, without Me, you fail. With me, you pass." And I said, "I'm with You, Bro!" (that's the short version)
Now I find out there's another test. Dang it all. How did I miss the test?
The appropriate thing, of course, was to hit delete and go back to work. But I'm weak. That's why I need Jesus in the first place. I tend to offend. And I probably did with my response to the e-mail sender:
"I appreciate the sentiment," I wrote, "but I reject the suggestion that I somehow love Jesus less if I don’t send this to other people. I’m not ashamed of Him, but I’m not sending it to anyone. Hopefully, everyone I know already knows that I’m not ashamed of Jesus. How about this: If you aren’t ashamed of Him, go sit with 10 non-believers and tell them about your personal relationship with Christ."
How's that for overly blunt? Just me spreading a little Christmas cheer, right?
In retrospect, I wish I'd sent nothing or that I'd sent something gentle (not that Jesus was always gentle, but, hey, I know Jesus and I'm not Him). I can be a real SOB. But I stand by my point, which is why I feel the need to spend my lunch hour both admonishing myself and sharing that point here: Our test is pass/fail, all right, but it has nothing to do with forwarding an e-mail. It has to do with saying, "I'm with You, Bro" or rejecting His help. If we really accepted His help, others should see it in the "fruit" of our lives. So while that wasn't the intent of the e-mail, that's the reminder I got from it: To bear more fruit and less spam.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Bat Wisdom
Batman: "Nobody wants war."
Robin: "Gee, Batman. Belgravia's such a small country. We'd beat them in a few hours."
Batman: "Yes, and then we'd have to support them for years."
Robin: "Gee, Batman. Belgravia's such a small country. We'd beat them in a few hours."
Batman: "Yes, and then we'd have to support them for years."
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Evangelicals and Elections: A Measured Response
11/6/08
By Stephen Caldwell
American evangelicals who insist on collectively wringing their hands and gnashing their teeth now that Barack Obama’s earned the title of president-elect need to pause and collectively take in this advice: Stop it. Just stop.
There were many reasons to oppose Obama’s candidacy, but there also are reasons to embrace the new reality – both the reality of the short-term positives that might come from it and the reality of the bigger vision we, as evangelicals, hold in common.
The idea that this turn in history represents the “beginning of the end” is true, but no more true than any other day between now and “the end” – which we, as evangelicals, really see as the beginning anyway.
I speak this truth as one of you.
While I’ve never been issued a card or learned any secret handshake, it’s fair to put me in the bucket commonly known as “evangelical.” Nevermind that I prefer no particular label or that, if forced to pick, it would be, rather simply, “follower of Jesus.”
In a nation that’s compelled to label its residents, however, I don’t shy away from the evangelical tag. My issue with the label isn’t with the defined notion of it, but with the perceived notion of it over the last 20 or so years. The group becomes defined by its actions, or, as its supreme leader once put it, the fruit that it bears. And, frankly, we bear some pretty rotten fruit from time to time (not unlike everyone else).
The evangelical movement has a long, mostly positive history, and much of it includes almost nothing to do with politics (even thought many wonderful politicians, in fact, have been evangelicals). And there were glorious decades when “evangelical” wasn’t considered a voting block. Presidents, if you can imagine it, were elected without exit polling that showed how the “white evangelicals” voted in Ohio.
Back then, the evangelical movement focused more on allowing God to work through its people so that He might add to the “elect” rather than on waging battles to elect certain candidates or creating a political power base.
Now I’m told to “vote God” or “vote the Bible” or “vote Jesus,” as if any mortal might know what the heck that means. Well, for one thing it means asking more than any candidate could live up to. We elect men and women, none of whom are perfect and, therefore, all of whom are sure to disappoint. So while we can carefully consider their policies and their character and their leadership skills and how all those things fit with current challenges and with our values and beliefs, in the end we’re called to something higher, that is to love God and to love others regardless of the politics of the day.
In a practical way, that might suggest that we love President-elect Obama even if we voted for John McCain, and that one way to do that is to stop sending e-mails to everyone in the address book suggesting that Obama is Hitler or spreading some other lie or half-truth.
It suggests that we pray for our leader, whoever it is, just as we pray for our closest friends and our most pressing enemies. (See 1 Peter 2:13, Romans13:1-4, 1 Timothy 12:2, among others.)
It suggests that we remind ourselves that being Christian or evangelical doesn’t mean automatically voting for the person with an “R” next to his or her name. I know people who love and follow Jesus with far greater abandon than myself – people I consider heroes of the faith – who voted for Obama. Guess what? I’m convinced they aren’t going to hell.
Indeed, perhaps the most positive outcome from the election is that we, as evangelicals, can go back to being evangelicals and not a voting block. We can rebuild our “brand,” as the friend of a friend put it.
“I believe that the president elect will restore the good name of evangelical Christians by reminding them that spiritual victories in this world are not achieved though mighty armies, mighty political leaders or the mighty dollar, but by the saving grace of the Carpenter from Nazareth,” this friend of a friend wrote in a post-election day e-mail. “That the proper role of His church is to share through love and service the true Hope of the world who resides not in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue but in each and every human heart.”
To that, perhaps, we could offer a collective and heartfelt, “Amen.”
-- end --
By Stephen Caldwell
American evangelicals who insist on collectively wringing their hands and gnashing their teeth now that Barack Obama’s earned the title of president-elect need to pause and collectively take in this advice: Stop it. Just stop.
There were many reasons to oppose Obama’s candidacy, but there also are reasons to embrace the new reality – both the reality of the short-term positives that might come from it and the reality of the bigger vision we, as evangelicals, hold in common.
The idea that this turn in history represents the “beginning of the end” is true, but no more true than any other day between now and “the end” – which we, as evangelicals, really see as the beginning anyway.
I speak this truth as one of you.
While I’ve never been issued a card or learned any secret handshake, it’s fair to put me in the bucket commonly known as “evangelical.” Nevermind that I prefer no particular label or that, if forced to pick, it would be, rather simply, “follower of Jesus.”
In a nation that’s compelled to label its residents, however, I don’t shy away from the evangelical tag. My issue with the label isn’t with the defined notion of it, but with the perceived notion of it over the last 20 or so years. The group becomes defined by its actions, or, as its supreme leader once put it, the fruit that it bears. And, frankly, we bear some pretty rotten fruit from time to time (not unlike everyone else).
The evangelical movement has a long, mostly positive history, and much of it includes almost nothing to do with politics (even thought many wonderful politicians, in fact, have been evangelicals). And there were glorious decades when “evangelical” wasn’t considered a voting block. Presidents, if you can imagine it, were elected without exit polling that showed how the “white evangelicals” voted in Ohio.
Back then, the evangelical movement focused more on allowing God to work through its people so that He might add to the “elect” rather than on waging battles to elect certain candidates or creating a political power base.
Now I’m told to “vote God” or “vote the Bible” or “vote Jesus,” as if any mortal might know what the heck that means. Well, for one thing it means asking more than any candidate could live up to. We elect men and women, none of whom are perfect and, therefore, all of whom are sure to disappoint. So while we can carefully consider their policies and their character and their leadership skills and how all those things fit with current challenges and with our values and beliefs, in the end we’re called to something higher, that is to love God and to love others regardless of the politics of the day.
In a practical way, that might suggest that we love President-elect Obama even if we voted for John McCain, and that one way to do that is to stop sending e-mails to everyone in the address book suggesting that Obama is Hitler or spreading some other lie or half-truth.
It suggests that we pray for our leader, whoever it is, just as we pray for our closest friends and our most pressing enemies. (See 1 Peter 2:13, Romans13:1-4, 1 Timothy 12:2, among others.)
It suggests that we remind ourselves that being Christian or evangelical doesn’t mean automatically voting for the person with an “R” next to his or her name. I know people who love and follow Jesus with far greater abandon than myself – people I consider heroes of the faith – who voted for Obama. Guess what? I’m convinced they aren’t going to hell.
Indeed, perhaps the most positive outcome from the election is that we, as evangelicals, can go back to being evangelicals and not a voting block. We can rebuild our “brand,” as the friend of a friend put it.
“I believe that the president elect will restore the good name of evangelical Christians by reminding them that spiritual victories in this world are not achieved though mighty armies, mighty political leaders or the mighty dollar, but by the saving grace of the Carpenter from Nazareth,” this friend of a friend wrote in a post-election day e-mail. “That the proper role of His church is to share through love and service the true Hope of the world who resides not in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue but in each and every human heart.”
To that, perhaps, we could offer a collective and heartfelt, “Amen.”
-- end --
Monday, November 03, 2008
The Jesus Ballot
The other day I told a friend, without giving it much thought at all, that I didn't think Jesus would vote. His immediate reaction was that of course Jesus would vote. Now, having given it some thought, I'm still not sure. My initial reasoning was that Jesus seemed fine leaving the affairs of government to mankind. Render unto Caesar, and all that. Then again, Jesus never side-stepped a debate. So then I wondered about the vote Jesus would cast, if He were, in fact, inclined to vote. Would He vote for the most godly candidate? The candidate with the most pure heart? The candidate with the best ideas about governing? The candidate most likely to protect life? The environment? The poor? Or, having divine foresight, would he simply vote for the person He knew would win (who, in fact, might be nothing like Jesus)? Ultimately, of course, the question has about as much merit as asking what Jesus would drive (assuming He'd drive, my guess is a white horse) or even what Jesus would do (WWJD) in any particular situation. The bigger and far better question seems this: What would Jesus have me do to bring glory to His name?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Second Half
Since I left my post at the newspaper at the beginning of this year, I've spent plenty of time sitting around in my PJs watching SportsCenter. But I've worked a little, too! Actually, I've been working on all sorts of interesting projects, including two different books. One of those is about to be released. It's a coffee table book geared toward people who are interested living with significance for others, especially in the second half of life. We have 25 feature-type stories with some great art work. My friends at Doxa Total Design did the design. I helped the author, Lloyd Reeb, with the writing. It was a ton of fun to learn the stories of these people, and I only regret I couldn't share more of what they taught me.
Here's a link to more information. It includes two sample chapters:
The Second Half
I'll tell you front-up that I won't make any more or any less money if you buy the book, but I would like for you to check it out. You might want to buy it/read it, you might want to buy it for a friend, or you might just enjoy the sample chapters as a way of seeing something I've contributed to over the last six or eight months. If nothing else, it's proof that I've missed a few SportsCenters.
Here's a link to more information. It includes two sample chapters:
The Second Half
I'll tell you front-up that I won't make any more or any less money if you buy the book, but I would like for you to check it out. You might want to buy it/read it, you might want to buy it for a friend, or you might just enjoy the sample chapters as a way of seeing something I've contributed to over the last six or eight months. If nothing else, it's proof that I've missed a few SportsCenters.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Grizz
She limped across the floor, hurting, it seemed, from some injury to her leg or her paw, perhaps from some jaunt across the yard in pursuit of a squirrel or a bird. Give it time, we were told, and we did. We gave it time, but it only got worse, until, this time, the vet took x-rays and found within her bones those cells that weren't behaving normally.
They call it cancer.
We have four children, mostly grown now, ages 17 to 27, and we've always had pets. Two, Maddie the collie and King Tut the cat, no longer are around. They died of illness related to old age, and we grieved their passing but saw it coming.
Grizzly is no pup, but she never lacked for energy or zest for life. I wrote about her once or twice in The Dad Zone column and even let her write about herself in a guest column. thedadzone She greeted us with great enthusiasm, protected our territory with zeal and made for a great jogging partner. All of this was true until two weeks ago.
So this is different, this dealing with the unexpected news that life so vibrant so soon will end. This walking in the door and seeing her on doggie bed, not bouncing in front of me we some toy in her mouth as a greeting gift.
Sad? The English language falls short with that description.
The dow is down and politics bring little that encourages the heart. But there is hope even in the darkest of times. All this other ground, as the song so aptly puts it, is sinking ground. It's not the solid rock on which we are invited to stand.
Grizzly will stay with us a few more days, perhaps weeks, and then we'll say goodbye, keeping only the memories of a dog rescued from an apartment complex trash bin, a mixed breed pup that always seemed to know every day was a gift.
Yes, there's a lesson in that, and we take our lessons on life from wherever God presents them.
They call it cancer.
We have four children, mostly grown now, ages 17 to 27, and we've always had pets. Two, Maddie the collie and King Tut the cat, no longer are around. They died of illness related to old age, and we grieved their passing but saw it coming.
Grizzly is no pup, but she never lacked for energy or zest for life. I wrote about her once or twice in The Dad Zone column and even let her write about herself in a guest column. thedadzone She greeted us with great enthusiasm, protected our territory with zeal and made for a great jogging partner. All of this was true until two weeks ago.
So this is different, this dealing with the unexpected news that life so vibrant so soon will end. This walking in the door and seeing her on doggie bed, not bouncing in front of me we some toy in her mouth as a greeting gift.
Sad? The English language falls short with that description.
The dow is down and politics bring little that encourages the heart. But there is hope even in the darkest of times. All this other ground, as the song so aptly puts it, is sinking ground. It's not the solid rock on which we are invited to stand.
Grizzly will stay with us a few more days, perhaps weeks, and then we'll say goodbye, keeping only the memories of a dog rescued from an apartment complex trash bin, a mixed breed pup that always seemed to know every day was a gift.
Yes, there's a lesson in that, and we take our lessons on life from wherever God presents them.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Travel log
Random thoughts after a trip to North Carolina...
+ One of my favorite parts of a trip is to listen when the flight attendant announces the connecting gates. As she reads the list -- San Diego, Gate C22; Orlando, Gate B 15 ...-- I enjoy memories of trips to the places I've been, wonder about the places I've never visited and marvel at how a group that's often as small as 30-50 folks can scatter in so many different directions.
+ What's better than spending a few days with family who live halfway across the country? Not much, really.
+ Airports need more electrical outlets.
+ Quote from Timothy Keller's The Reason for God, which I read on the trip: "The fact that Jesus had to die for me humbled me out of my pride. The fact that Jesus was glad to die for me assured me out of my fear."
+ One of my favorite parts of a trip is to listen when the flight attendant announces the connecting gates. As she reads the list -- San Diego, Gate C22; Orlando, Gate B 15 ...-- I enjoy memories of trips to the places I've been, wonder about the places I've never visited and marvel at how a group that's often as small as 30-50 folks can scatter in so many different directions.
+ What's better than spending a few days with family who live halfway across the country? Not much, really.
+ Airports need more electrical outlets.
+ Quote from Timothy Keller's The Reason for God, which I read on the trip: "The fact that Jesus had to die for me humbled me out of my pride. The fact that Jesus was glad to die for me assured me out of my fear."
Sunday, August 31, 2008
"perfect" parents
Here's a quote for parents during those inevitable times when we feel like failures because our efforts to raise perfect children somehow came up short: "And what if we could have been the perfect parents? The creation story brings a fascinating dimension to this. Adam and Eve had the perfect father and lived in the perfect environment, but they chose a way their father didn't want them to go." - Rob Parsons in Bringing Home the Prodigals
Sure, we make mistakes as parents and we must take responsibility for them and try to parent better. That's tough enough without the weight of false guilt. Sometimes we must recognize that our children have free will, too, and sometimes they make poor choices. When that happens, can we love them like God loves us?
Sure, we make mistakes as parents and we must take responsibility for them and try to parent better. That's tough enough without the weight of false guilt. Sometimes we must recognize that our children have free will, too, and sometimes they make poor choices. When that happens, can we love them like God loves us?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Java Junk
I don't understand coffee. Well, I understand that it comes from this bean that's ground up and the used to flavor hot water and bring the near-dead to near-life. But it's the mixing of the water and the grind that always gets me. I never know how much water to mix with how much ground up bean. So I wing it. And since no two cups of coffee ever taste the same anyway, it usually works out OK.
I noticed this morning that the directions on a new bag of coffee explained the complicated formula, and this made me happy. But I also noticed that it told me how much coffee to use for "6 ounces" of water. Now, I don't know about you, but I usually drink my coffee by the cup(s). So now I had to do math, which is hard enough when I'm near-life and darn-near impossible when I'm near-dead. On the positive side, I had a measuring device for the coffee that actually told me it held "1 tbsp" (as opposed to the ones we have that just say "coffee scoop"). Still, I stood semi-frozen by the math. So, of course, I winged it. I dumped about 10 scoops of coffee into the filter, poured in enough water to make me two or three cups of coffee and turned on the machine. Magically, it worked out OK. Since no one else was drinking my brew on this particular morning, I didn't have to worry about pleasing anyone but myself. And within 30 minutes I was near-life and ready to start the day.
I noticed this morning that the directions on a new bag of coffee explained the complicated formula, and this made me happy. But I also noticed that it told me how much coffee to use for "6 ounces" of water. Now, I don't know about you, but I usually drink my coffee by the cup(s). So now I had to do math, which is hard enough when I'm near-life and darn-near impossible when I'm near-dead. On the positive side, I had a measuring device for the coffee that actually told me it held "1 tbsp" (as opposed to the ones we have that just say "coffee scoop"). Still, I stood semi-frozen by the math. So, of course, I winged it. I dumped about 10 scoops of coffee into the filter, poured in enough water to make me two or three cups of coffee and turned on the machine. Magically, it worked out OK. Since no one else was drinking my brew on this particular morning, I didn't have to worry about pleasing anyone but myself. And within 30 minutes I was near-life and ready to start the day.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Mental Olympics
Random thoughts about The Games ...
+ If you walk in the house and your son-in-law is watching water polo on television, you know the Olympics are going on.
+ Why do men's beach volleyball players dress somewhat like athletes and women's beach volleyball players dress like they're prepping for an Sports Illustrated swimsuit photo shoot?
+ Have the Olympics gotten you all worked up about the plight of Tibet? Check out www.admg.net and www.truetibetan.com.
+ Don't know about you, but I pumped my fist when the American relay team beat the smack-talking French by a finger in the 400 meter freestyle.
+ If you walk in the house and your son-in-law is watching water polo on television, you know the Olympics are going on.
+ Why do men's beach volleyball players dress somewhat like athletes and women's beach volleyball players dress like they're prepping for an Sports Illustrated swimsuit photo shoot?
+ Have the Olympics gotten you all worked up about the plight of Tibet? Check out www.admg.net and www.truetibetan.com.
+ Don't know about you, but I pumped my fist when the American relay team beat the smack-talking French by a finger in the 400 meter freestyle.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Pet Peeves
I try to keep my pet peeves on a short leash. Most of them aren’t housebroken, and they don’t always play well with others.
Peeve: Meaning something that is particularly irritating or annoying. It comes from the 14th Century word “peevish,” meaning “ornery or ill-tempered.”
You can see why they don’t make great pets.
Mine often involve the English language, which probably makes no sense considering how often I mistreat that fine lady.
Regardless, here are two that stand at the front door and bark all day: 1.) People who write/say unconscious when they mean subconscious. 2.) People who put their sentence-ending punctuation marks on the outside of their quotation marks. And, while I’m at it, Microsoft Word when it tells me to use “that” or “whom” when the appropriate word to use is “who.”
Whom knows what lurked in the unconscious minds of the designers when they created the program defining the usage of “who”.
Peeve: Meaning something that is particularly irritating or annoying. It comes from the 14th Century word “peevish,” meaning “ornery or ill-tempered.”
You can see why they don’t make great pets.
Mine often involve the English language, which probably makes no sense considering how often I mistreat that fine lady.
Regardless, here are two that stand at the front door and bark all day: 1.) People who write/say unconscious when they mean subconscious. 2.) People who put their sentence-ending punctuation marks on the outside of their quotation marks. And, while I’m at it, Microsoft Word when it tells me to use “that” or “whom” when the appropriate word to use is “who.”
Whom knows what lurked in the unconscious minds of the designers when they created the program defining the usage of “who”.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Rice girl
My oldest sister almost made me cry. Well, surely she made me cry during our wayback growing up days. But she almost made me cry this week. She's coming upon her 25th wedding anniversary, so she took that occasion to have her wedding photos saved to a disc. In the process, she came across some photos of the little girl who couldn't get enough of handing out rice bags to guests. No matter how many rice bags you had, she'd gladly give you another just so long as you would take it. The little rice girl's all grown up -- almost 27, but still her daddy's little girl.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Marching of Time
Life marches on. Sometimes we're the tassel in the cap, dancing in the breeze. Sometimes we're the insole of the tuba player's shoe.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Missed Opportunities
By Stephen Caldwell
7/17/08
The footprint held its place
In the sands of time,
Patiently awaiting its demise,
And peering toward the coming tide
Nearby, the shell,
No small one, this
A treasure for its size and purity
Hiding quietly in the soft, wet beach
The other shells,
Dozens and more,
They wash further in,
Some break or crack,
While others stay whole
And make their way
From sand, to hand, to pocket, to bowl
They have their beauty,
Their story to tell,
And, while small, they tell it well
Along with all the others in the bowl
The bigger shell could be that bowl,
Wide at the mouth
And deep, deep, deep
Like the ocean that spit it onto its beach
And there it rests,
Catching its breath,
Its humpback sticking up
Just inches from the footprint
They say nothing,
The footprint and the shell
Time approaches with the swell
And then it comes
And then they’re gone
Friday, June 20, 2008
Endings and beginnings
After more than nine years of writing The Dad Zone for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, the print version of the column fades into the recycling bin as of Wednesday, June 25. The question becomes, what now of The Dad Zone?
This blog site's been around for a few years, but it's gotten little use. That may change. Right now, I'm in the "contemplation" stage. To blog or not to blog? Would anybody read it? Can I make money with it? Does it make any difference?
So, I shall commit these questions to prayer and move forward with an occasional posting here until it becomes clear that I should either expand this into a regular offering or drop it altogether.
This blog site's been around for a few years, but it's gotten little use. That may change. Right now, I'm in the "contemplation" stage. To blog or not to blog? Would anybody read it? Can I make money with it? Does it make any difference?
So, I shall commit these questions to prayer and move forward with an occasional posting here until it becomes clear that I should either expand this into a regular offering or drop it altogether.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
A Parting Thought
Quick story: Jesus was somewhere near Caesarea Philippi, a popular city of his time about 25 miles north of the Sea of Galilee and at the base of Mt. Hermon. He was just hanging out with his boys when he asked them, in essence, what folks were calling him. They threw out a few answers. Mostly, it seemed, people said he was a new version of one of the Tanakh prophets. "But what about you?" Jesus asked them. "Who do you say I am?"
If you've never made a serious effort at answering that question, my parting prayer for you is that, beginning today, you'll do so. Whatever answer you come up with, at least you'll own it. It won't be your parents' answer or the culture's answer or your 11th grade teacher's answer or my answer. It will be yours.
C.S. Lewis believed there were three possible conclusions: Jesus was a fraud, he was a lunatic or he was, as he claimed, God in human form. There’s also the choice of dismissing the question. But even if we ignore the question, to paraphrase Neil Peart, we've no doubt made a choice.
I'll leave Lewis with the final words:
"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: 'I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept His claim to be God.' That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic -- on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg -- or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” – Mere Christianity, pages 40-41.
If you've never made a serious effort at answering that question, my parting prayer for you is that, beginning today, you'll do so. Whatever answer you come up with, at least you'll own it. It won't be your parents' answer or the culture's answer or your 11th grade teacher's answer or my answer. It will be yours.
C.S. Lewis believed there were three possible conclusions: Jesus was a fraud, he was a lunatic or he was, as he claimed, God in human form. There’s also the choice of dismissing the question. But even if we ignore the question, to paraphrase Neil Peart, we've no doubt made a choice.
I'll leave Lewis with the final words:
"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: 'I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept His claim to be God.' That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic -- on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg -- or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” – Mere Christianity, pages 40-41.
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