Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Charlie Daniels: Failed Messiah?
A couple weeks ago, my summer officially began. It was the inaugural concert of the summer concert series at the Magic Springs amusement park in Hot Springs. My $49.99 season pass gets me into all the concerts all summer. An extra 5 bucks a show in March reserved me seats on the 3rd row, middle aisle. The season kicked off in style with the Charlie Daniels Band. Admittedly, Magic Springs has become the last stop before assisted living for many old school classic rock and R&B bands. But that didn't stop the CDB from bringing it to thousands of unappreciative season passholders. I'm well aware of the politically insane, often right-wing, lyrics of many Charlie Daniel's songs. I grew up listening to "The South's Gonna Do it Again" and hearing Charlie condemn the Russians to hell in "In America." Much of my early theology was quite consistent with and fueled by "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." That Saturday night I decided before my rollercoastered behind ever sat down that I was going to put all my academic and progressive scruples on hold for 90 minutes. I was going to join in and celebrate my Southern heritage in a true redneck fashion and hoop and holler you haven't seen since Brown vs. Board of Education. The band was hot, and Charlie did his part from the opening song in which he broke his fiddle bow, to the much-anticipated "Devil" solo before he lays the golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet. Charlie did seem to tame his message a bit, though, I guess for the benefit of the kids in the audience, or those fans now on medicare. He struggled to tone his swear words down and he did change "Russians" to "enemies" in his condemnation of America's foes. Still, he presented proudly his pride in being a misunderstood Redneck and offered a justice system for drug dealers based on hanging rather than trial by peers. The music was great and I was fully caught up in the show. The surprise came when I realized that I was not struggling to keep up with the redneck crowd as I had anticipated, I was leading the charge alone. Very few cheers and "hell yeahs!" were uttered by the crowd when Charlie presented his gospel. This concert crowd differed immensely from the same Charlie Daniels crowd you would have experienced in Arkansas 30 years ago. Most of these people just didn't get excited about Dixie, God, America, and rednecks. It was almost as if a culture was dying before my eyes. I had the same feeling when my grandmother died last year and I hailed her as the "Last Southern Lady" in my eulogy. Southern rock, fiddles, family, and bearded obesity, just don't play out like they used to, despite the fact that Charlie Daniels sounds as good as ever. Near the end of the concert, Charlie sat down on a stool with his acoustic guitar and unapologetically professed his belief in Jesus and his love of gospel music. He said he always played one gospel song in all his shows. He then went into a powerful and emotive version of "How Great Thou Art" reminding everyone of just what a great voice he has. His gospel song was interrupted however, by at least 2 statements hurled from the crowd to the stage. One guy a few rows back yelled, "Don't get religious on us! Pick something else!." Not what I expected from a Magic Springs crowd at a CDB concert. Another voice quickly countered, however. The slightly innebriated woman in her 60's sitting next to me shouted, "Give 'em your testimony! Charlie Daniels you are our saviour!" Suddenly, I realized in that moment where we stand culturally and theologically in Arkansas in 2009. The frustrated failure of Charlie Daniel's religion making it's last stand against a post-modern skepticism. I wish the battle for our religious soul was a simple as a fiddle showdown in Georgia. We may be at the end of the era of the Southern religious simplicity of the Charlie Daniels Band, but I'm gonna take my hat off as he leaves the stage.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Dunk the Chaplain for Cereal's Sakes!
June marks the month of our annual VA hospital cereal drive. The goal is 15,000 boxes of cereal donated for children in our community. We are most of the way there. Over 2000 dollars was raised just this past Friday via our dunking booth at the Little Rock and North Little Rock campuses. A huge success, yours truly can't claim any credit for the dunking booth's windfall. Always eager to take one for the team, I volunteered to represent the chaplains for a 15 minute shift atop the homemade dunking booth. This was the first year the chaplain's department would get to mount the booth. We were excited. We broke into the priest's closet and got a candle-snuffing brass scepter and a baptismal robe. My boss coughed up a clerical collar. I dressed in black and was ready to go. I was ready to taunt my fellow employees in King James English while watching them delight in taking out their frustrations on a minister in a dunking booth, all for a good cause. Such was not the case. After jettisoning my robe in order to keep from drowning, I sat lonely and embarrassed for 10 long minutes of silent dunklessness. The administrator before me? Dunked more than a dozen times rapid fire. When the clergy took the stage, however, the dunking ceased. My prophetic calls to "Dunk Thy Neighbor!" fell on deaf ears. One lady paid her money walked up and then immediately sat down when she saw who was up for dunking. "Aw, Naw, I ain't gonna dunk him, I'll just wait." "That just wouldn't seem right," another said, as my fellow volunteers tried to feverishly prime the pump by dunking me. I shouted to the lady, "Aw, C'mon, I know you've been done wrong by a minister at some point in your life!" To no avail. After towelling off my embarrassment, I realized a painful truth. People talk smack about ministers all the time. They often gossip about them, vote them out of their churches, and blame them for causing them to leave the church. But when the get a chance to get even publicly, they balk. Is there still a healthy respect for clergy despite all the scandals and abuse that ministers have been involved in for millenia? Or do people not want to make public their realization that ministers are humans too and worthy of a good dunking. Are they taking ministers too seriously? Or are they taking themselves too seriously? I remember a family member chastizing his wife in a hospital room several years ago. She said "damn!" and was quickly rebuked. "Can't you see this is a man of the cloth!", her husband retorted. He then tried to make an appeal for her to give up her chair for me. I felt a bit ridiculous, much the same as i did when the dunking booth screeched to a halt and they unloaded me 5 minutes before my shift was up. I felt like a bad stripper who cleared out the bar in one routine. I wanted to make a final plea for all ministers before leaving the dunking booth. "Stop treating us with kid gloves and stop hiding behind our supposed moral superiority." We Baptists call it the "priesthood of all believers." The VA cereal drive calls it, "Go ahead and dunk the chaplain for cereal's sakes!"
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
You can always turn your ass around. (part 4)
Balaam blew it. He disobeyed God. He went in a direction that the shouldn’t have. He couldn’t even see the angel God sent. And then he beat the donkey who was trying to save his life. Fortunately, the story doesn’t end here. Here’s the final verse of the passage quoted earlier from Numbers: “Balaam said to the angel of the LORD, "I have sinned, for I did not know that you were standing in the way against me. Now then, if it is displeasing to you, I will turn back.” (22:34)
Balaam comes face to face with his predicament. He has sufficiently become humbled by an invisible angel with a sword and a talking donkey. His “sin is ever before him” as David says in Psalm 53. Balaam doesn’t go the way of some Biblical characters when confronted with their mistakes. Saul continued in his rebellion and the Lord’s spirit left him. Peter avoided Jesus until the risen Christ busted him out on his denial. Judas Iscariot hung himself. Balaam simply admitted his mistake and asked if it was okay if he repented and turned back. The final lesson of the Balaam/donkey story is that we can always turn our ass around. Turning back doesn’t undo the stupid things we do. It doesn’t mean we are instantly back in the place where we were when we first headed down the wrong path. It doesn’t save us the shame that we face by admitting we were wrong. It doesn’t save us the pain of remembering the days or years we wasted as we head back the right direction. But it does mean that we follow a God of 7th chances. Three angels appearances and three donkey beatings, and yet God doesn’t give up on Balaam. And doesn’t give up on you and me. We may suck but we can change. The book is not finished yet. God can shake your etch-a-sketch clean and you can draw again with a clean slate. This is the good news. There is hope, there is forgiveness, there is a new day. Even if it takes a divine donkey to get us there.
Balaam comes face to face with his predicament. He has sufficiently become humbled by an invisible angel with a sword and a talking donkey. His “sin is ever before him” as David says in Psalm 53. Balaam doesn’t go the way of some Biblical characters when confronted with their mistakes. Saul continued in his rebellion and the Lord’s spirit left him. Peter avoided Jesus until the risen Christ busted him out on his denial. Judas Iscariot hung himself. Balaam simply admitted his mistake and asked if it was okay if he repented and turned back. The final lesson of the Balaam/donkey story is that we can always turn our ass around. Turning back doesn’t undo the stupid things we do. It doesn’t mean we are instantly back in the place where we were when we first headed down the wrong path. It doesn’t save us the shame that we face by admitting we were wrong. It doesn’t save us the pain of remembering the days or years we wasted as we head back the right direction. But it does mean that we follow a God of 7th chances. Three angels appearances and three donkey beatings, and yet God doesn’t give up on Balaam. And doesn’t give up on you and me. We may suck but we can change. The book is not finished yet. God can shake your etch-a-sketch clean and you can draw again with a clean slate. This is the good news. There is hope, there is forgiveness, there is a new day. Even if it takes a divine donkey to get us there.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Don’t beat the Donkey. (part 3)
Balaam’s donkey sees the angel in the road with his sword drawn and wisely detours into a nearby field. Balaam is clueless as to the reason for donkey disobedience and whips him like a redheaded stepchild. The donkey falls in line and again runs into the angel in a narrow path where he is forced to squeeze up against a wall to avoid the angel. Unfortunately, Balaam’s foot gets trapped between the donkey and the wall. Balaam goes for round two of the donkey whacking. Both the angel and the donkey are persistent, however. The angel appears the third time in such a way that there’s no way the donkey can get around him. At this point, the donkey simply lays down under Balaam and incurs Balaam’s final PETA infraction, a third beating. Mr. Ed has had enough at this point and basically exclaims, “What did I ever do to you to deserve this triple crown of ass-whooping?” The donkey’s question is legitimate. Without realizing it, Balaam was whipping the messenger. The donkey is unaware of Balaam’s angelic blindness and thinks she is just doing her job. Here’s an aside. Ironic that God was able to “open the mouth” of a female donkey and speak prophetically through her in circa 1500 BCE, but God still struggles with being able to speak through a female person in most religious circles 3500 years later. hmm. At any rate, Balaam beats the donkey that is only guilty of trying to help him. We all do our share of donkey beating when we are faced with news we don’t really want to hear. God often uses asses to get our attention and we resent it. It’s the honest comment of an ex. It’s the co-worker or sibling who rats on us. It’s the painful truth that Kim Yazza wanted to break up with me in the 8th grade but got her friend Scotty to call me and tell me during an episode of Hee-Haw in 1978. Whatever the bad news, it’s usually not the fault of the messenger. We must not get in the habit of beating our donkeys. Sometimes they are the only people in our lives who will tell us the truth. As soon as we respond to criticism and bad news by flashing our defensive, insecure colors, we begin to silence our critics and the truth starts to disappear from our office, home, and soul. Our donkeys all get tired of getting beaten. They eventually lay down and we’re alone on our path to destruction.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Special Edition: MLK's Deadday
"Early morning, April 4, shot rings out in a Memphis sky...'Free at Last!' they took your life, they could not take your Pride!"
Bono got the time of day wrong, it was in the evening, but he captured the power of that fateful day at the Lorraine Motel in 1968. Interestingly, our country is pretty good about remembering the birthday of many of our American heroes. A few have even dotted the calenders of January and February as national holidays. Not much is said, however, about the significance of the day they died, with the exception of JFK. Few of us remember, for example, that is was April 15 that Lincoln died, the morning after he took a bullet in Ford's theater. Probably one of the most significant days in our nation's history was April 12 when our country mourned the death of 4 term president Franklin D Roosevelt. Most of us remember vividly the death of Ronald Reagan and the televised funerals that filled our cable stations. It's doubtful, however, that June 5 will ever have even a footnote on our pocket calenders. The same is true with Martin Luther King, Jr. Debate went on for decades in Congress before Reagan pulled the trigger on making a national holiday for Martin Luther King.
I had a friend in Thailand many years ago who laughed at her own butchering of the English language on an almost daily basis. Being very familiar with the term "Birthday" and its wide use and importance to Americans, she jokingly tried to draw attention to the significance of the day one of her friend's died. Her face broke into a wide smile as the began to translate to English using the self-created crass term "Deadday." The truth is that those of us who have lost loved ones in the past know that the most painful days fall on the anniversaries of the day they died, not the day they were born. It is the deaddays that stick out most in our minds and carry the greatest weight of meaning and emotion.
And so it is with Martin Luther King's death. It may have been difficult to get our nation to recognize the great civil rights leader's birthday, but imagine how difficult it would have been to set aside a day to honor the anniversary of the evening we took him out. MLK's birth represents the coming of age of a nation who realized it was time to clean house, swallow the pride of admitting our own mistakes, and forge a new era for all people. His death stands as a reminder that the stakes are high. That we'll never all get there. That the cost of change is paid in blood. And that the impact of our lives cannot be stopped by a 38 mm bullet. It is also a reminder that we are pretty good about killing off those who make the greatest difference in our nation. Lincoln, JFK, RFK, and MLK to name a few. There was another who understood the meaning of Bono's lyrics in "Pride." The death of MLK and the coming of Easter remind us that Jesus wasn't just giving us a sound byte when he said, "take up your cross, and follow me." The pain of remembering Martin Luther King's, Jesus', or our own family member's deaddays is real. But it comes with the hope of knowing that the bullet, the nail, the cancer, the heart-attack, and the car wreck, don't get the last word. The gospel, the fight for equal rights, the love of a mother, brother, or wife who's gone, lives on. Just wait.
Bono got the time of day wrong, it was in the evening, but he captured the power of that fateful day at the Lorraine Motel in 1968. Interestingly, our country is pretty good about remembering the birthday of many of our American heroes. A few have even dotted the calenders of January and February as national holidays. Not much is said, however, about the significance of the day they died, with the exception of JFK. Few of us remember, for example, that is was April 15 that Lincoln died, the morning after he took a bullet in Ford's theater. Probably one of the most significant days in our nation's history was April 12 when our country mourned the death of 4 term president Franklin D Roosevelt. Most of us remember vividly the death of Ronald Reagan and the televised funerals that filled our cable stations. It's doubtful, however, that June 5 will ever have even a footnote on our pocket calenders. The same is true with Martin Luther King, Jr. Debate went on for decades in Congress before Reagan pulled the trigger on making a national holiday for Martin Luther King.
I had a friend in Thailand many years ago who laughed at her own butchering of the English language on an almost daily basis. Being very familiar with the term "Birthday" and its wide use and importance to Americans, she jokingly tried to draw attention to the significance of the day one of her friend's died. Her face broke into a wide smile as the began to translate to English using the self-created crass term "Deadday." The truth is that those of us who have lost loved ones in the past know that the most painful days fall on the anniversaries of the day they died, not the day they were born. It is the deaddays that stick out most in our minds and carry the greatest weight of meaning and emotion.
And so it is with Martin Luther King's death. It may have been difficult to get our nation to recognize the great civil rights leader's birthday, but imagine how difficult it would have been to set aside a day to honor the anniversary of the evening we took him out. MLK's birth represents the coming of age of a nation who realized it was time to clean house, swallow the pride of admitting our own mistakes, and forge a new era for all people. His death stands as a reminder that the stakes are high. That we'll never all get there. That the cost of change is paid in blood. And that the impact of our lives cannot be stopped by a 38 mm bullet. It is also a reminder that we are pretty good about killing off those who make the greatest difference in our nation. Lincoln, JFK, RFK, and MLK to name a few. There was another who understood the meaning of Bono's lyrics in "Pride." The death of MLK and the coming of Easter remind us that Jesus wasn't just giving us a sound byte when he said, "take up your cross, and follow me." The pain of remembering Martin Luther King's, Jesus', or our own family member's deaddays is real. But it comes with the hope of knowing that the bullet, the nail, the cancer, the heart-attack, and the car wreck, don't get the last word. The gospel, the fight for equal rights, the love of a mother, brother, or wife who's gone, lives on. Just wait.
God thinks outside the Balaam. (part 2)
God’s first attempt to get Balaam’s attention was to send an angel in his path. This divine portent was not enough, however, and a more practical approach was needed. So God enlisted the help of the donkey. While Balaam the prophet was blind to the obvious presence of a sword-drawn angel standing in front of him, his donkey could see it quite clearly and wisely avoided the angelic showdown. There are many among the faithful in the church who are the logical ones to perceive a divine truth. But such is not always the case. Last Sunday I experienced a horribly sad situation in which a local Spanish-speaking family woke to find their 10 month-old not breathing. The baby girl was dead on arrival at the hospital, apparently the result of several serious, chronic, illnesses the baby had gone through since birth. I arrived at the hospital and found the two sobbing parents on either side of their baby, holding her life-less hands. The family’s sorrow was compounded by the fact they spoke no English, had little extended family here, and had no financial resources to deal with the prospect of a funeral and burial for their child. They turned to the chaplain for help. I in turn took the next seemingly logical step and began to contact local churches with ministries to the Hispanic communities. My desire was for the family to have someone who spoke their language, could provide them with emotional support and assist them financially or logistically with funeral arrangements. Unfortunately, the baby picked a bad time to die. It was straight up 11 a.m on Sunday morning. I guess everyone was too preoccupied with worshipping God to deal with this couple’s untimely problem. 5 phone calls to churches and 4 ministerial voicemails later, I finally closed my cell phone. The minutes passed as now the family was alone, waiting for help, the baby having been taken to the coroner. The minutes turned to hours without a single returned phone call from the “emergency-line” voicemails. I finally abandoned my divine plan to begin with the church, realizing that none of my fellow Christian travelers could see the angel standing in front of them in the road. I opened up the yellow-pages and called the first funeral home I could find. The funeral director called me back in minutes, ready to make arrangements to pick up the baby’s body and offered funeral service for free.. He also offered to contact a cemetery that provides free burial space for families in need and agreed to coordinate the entire process. The family was relieved and finally able to go home. The church answering machines remained full. The donkey could see what the prophets could not.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
“God speaks through Balaam’s Ass” (part 1)
The book of Numbers lands as the 4th book in the Hebrew canon, right after Leviticus. While Leviticus is most known for its detailed and often comical requirements for ceremonial purity, Numbers is best known for nothing. Nothing, that is, until the fascinating narraitive of the prophet Balaam and his stubborn, talking donkey. This is provocative tale of spiritual blindness, donkey abuse, and repentence. A close examination of this text will reveal several truths that will aid us in the quest for the porpoise-driven life.
The Angel and Balaam Numbers 22
22But God was angry because he was going, and the angel of the LORD took his stand in the way as an adversary against him. Now he was riding on his donkey and his two servants were with him. 23When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD standing in the way with his drawn sword in his hand, the donkey turned off from the way and went into the field; but Balaam struck the donkey to turn her back into the way. 24Then the angel of the LORD stood in a narrow path of the vineyards, with a wall on this side and a wall on that side. 25When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD, she pressed herself to the wall and pressed Balaam's foot against the wall, so he struck her again. 26The angel of the LORD went further, and stood in a narrow place where there was no way to turn to the right hand or the left. 27When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD, she lay down under Balaam; so Balaam was angry and struck the donkey with his stick. 28And the LORD opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, "What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?" 29Then Balaam said to the donkey, "Because you have made a mockery of me! If there had been a sword in my hand, I would have killed you by now." 30The donkey said to Balaam, "Am I not your donkey on which you have ridden all your life to this day? Have I ever been accustomed to do so to you?" And he said, "No." 31Then the LORD opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw )the angel of the LORD standing in the way with his drawn sword in his hand; and he bowed all the way to the ground. 32The angel of the LORD said to him, "Why have you struck your donkey these three times? Behold, I have come out as an adversary, because your way was (V)contrary to me. 33"But the donkey saw me and turned aside from me these three times. If she had not turned aside from me, I would surely have killed you just now, and let her live." 34Balaam said to the angel of the LORD, "I have sinned, for I did not know that you were standing in the way against me. Now then, if it is displeasing to you, I will turn back."
This story is important theologically for a number of reasons besides being a forerunner of the popular CBS sitcom, “Mr. Ed” (1961). Let us elucidate some of its sublime truths.
1. The wrong path can lead to blindness.
Balaam is not the only Biblical character to experience vision problems on the road. The pre-apostle Saul was on the way to Damascus to take out a few Christians when he was “blinded by the light” (Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, 1977). His trip down the wrong road led to a bout with temporary blindness, an epic conversion experience and a name change to “Paul” or “the apostle formerly known as Saul.” Balaam too is on the wrong road and is clearly headed somewhere that God didn’t want him to go. Would that I had a bowl of GrapeNuts for every wrong road I’ve gotten on, whether it be the blind following of map quest, or the entrance ramp to a bad marital highway. Balaam is in a similar sedan, without his spiritual GPS.
Several attempts were made to stop Balaam’s journey and send him another way. The primary divine tactic was one used often in Scripture, the sending of an angel. We find countless angels in the sacred writings of many religions and they play a prominent role in both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. In this case the angel is placed smack in the middle of the Balaam’s road. Sometimes divine warnings come like flashing blue lights on the interstate. Others appear right in the median of our “highway to hell”(AC/DC, 1978). More often though, we’re so used to driving the road leading to nowhere that our minds are numbed to the green and brown markers lining the access roads. We all have taken many a turn that puts us on a road that is clearly nowhere near the ultimate desired destination. Much like Bruce Springsteen in “Hungry Heart” (1983), “we take a wrong turn and we just keep going.” Once on this Balaam road of destruction, we find it more and more difficult to see the truth. Balaam’s angel was right in front of him. Unfortunately, Balaam’s pre-occupation with his own agenda blinded him to the appearance of the angel standing on the double-yellow line of his cart path. The warning sign was there, he just couldn’t see it.. Fortunately, unbeknownced to Balaam, God had sent along a seeing eye donkey.
The Angel and Balaam Numbers 22
22But God was angry because he was going, and the angel of the LORD took his stand in the way as an adversary against him. Now he was riding on his donkey and his two servants were with him. 23When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD standing in the way with his drawn sword in his hand, the donkey turned off from the way and went into the field; but Balaam struck the donkey to turn her back into the way. 24Then the angel of the LORD stood in a narrow path of the vineyards, with a wall on this side and a wall on that side. 25When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD, she pressed herself to the wall and pressed Balaam's foot against the wall, so he struck her again. 26The angel of the LORD went further, and stood in a narrow place where there was no way to turn to the right hand or the left. 27When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD, she lay down under Balaam; so Balaam was angry and struck the donkey with his stick. 28And the LORD opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, "What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?" 29Then Balaam said to the donkey, "Because you have made a mockery of me! If there had been a sword in my hand, I would have killed you by now." 30The donkey said to Balaam, "Am I not your donkey on which you have ridden all your life to this day? Have I ever been accustomed to do so to you?" And he said, "No." 31Then the LORD opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw )the angel of the LORD standing in the way with his drawn sword in his hand; and he bowed all the way to the ground. 32The angel of the LORD said to him, "Why have you struck your donkey these three times? Behold, I have come out as an adversary, because your way was (V)contrary to me. 33"But the donkey saw me and turned aside from me these three times. If she had not turned aside from me, I would surely have killed you just now, and let her live." 34Balaam said to the angel of the LORD, "I have sinned, for I did not know that you were standing in the way against me. Now then, if it is displeasing to you, I will turn back."
This story is important theologically for a number of reasons besides being a forerunner of the popular CBS sitcom, “Mr. Ed” (1961). Let us elucidate some of its sublime truths.
1. The wrong path can lead to blindness.
Balaam is not the only Biblical character to experience vision problems on the road. The pre-apostle Saul was on the way to Damascus to take out a few Christians when he was “blinded by the light” (Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, 1977). His trip down the wrong road led to a bout with temporary blindness, an epic conversion experience and a name change to “Paul” or “the apostle formerly known as Saul.” Balaam too is on the wrong road and is clearly headed somewhere that God didn’t want him to go. Would that I had a bowl of GrapeNuts for every wrong road I’ve gotten on, whether it be the blind following of map quest, or the entrance ramp to a bad marital highway. Balaam is in a similar sedan, without his spiritual GPS.
Several attempts were made to stop Balaam’s journey and send him another way. The primary divine tactic was one used often in Scripture, the sending of an angel. We find countless angels in the sacred writings of many religions and they play a prominent role in both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. In this case the angel is placed smack in the middle of the Balaam’s road. Sometimes divine warnings come like flashing blue lights on the interstate. Others appear right in the median of our “highway to hell”(AC/DC, 1978). More often though, we’re so used to driving the road leading to nowhere that our minds are numbed to the green and brown markers lining the access roads. We all have taken many a turn that puts us on a road that is clearly nowhere near the ultimate desired destination. Much like Bruce Springsteen in “Hungry Heart” (1983), “we take a wrong turn and we just keep going.” Once on this Balaam road of destruction, we find it more and more difficult to see the truth. Balaam’s angel was right in front of him. Unfortunately, Balaam’s pre-occupation with his own agenda blinded him to the appearance of the angel standing on the double-yellow line of his cart path. The warning sign was there, he just couldn’t see it.. Fortunately, unbeknownced to Balaam, God had sent along a seeing eye donkey.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
God and Animals: Mammal as Metaphor
God and Animals: Mammal as Metaphor
Before considering the nature of Jesus in the development of porpoise-driven theology, let us begin by dispelling some likely criticism that this paradigm will receive. How dare I compare God and the Christian life to common animals? Is this not sacrelige? No, I say, far from it. I am not the first to use animals in such a way as to represent divine truths. I’m simply standing on the shoulders of the Biblical writers and the authors of many other sacred texts. The use of all kinds of animals play a crucial role in the messages of both the Hebrew and Chrisitian Scriptures. We only make it to chapter 3 of Genesis before a talking serpent appears, representing Satan and the personification of evil and temptation, or rather the reptilification of evil. The account of Noah in Genesis also highlights the importance of animals in the Biblical text. Noah crams a boat-load of them onto his gopher-wooded dinghy, granting them entrance ahead of his own neighbors and in-laws. We then encounter references to ravens and doves which appear in divine roles throughout the Biblical text, the most significant symbol being the Holy Spirit descending “as a dove” at Jesus’ baptism (Mark 1:10).
God is not confined to just birds and reptiles in herm’s revelation of divine truth. The Bible is loaded with mammalian metaphors. Most importantly you have the “lion of Judah,” and the “lamb of God” who takes away the sin of the world. More incidentally, you have the two angry she-bears that come out of the woods and eat the children who were taunting Elisha for his baldness (II Kings 2:24), and the camel trying to walk through the eye of a needle, symbolizing how difficult it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 19:24). The pharisees and scribes are called “dogs” and a “brood of vipers.” More positive uses for divine animal metaphors accompany Jesus’ teaching as well. In a rare female metaphor for the divine, Jesus’s sadness and compassion for Israel is summed up in his saying that he was like a hen:
Luke 13:34 (NAS)
34"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not have it!"
Animals play a particularly significant role in the depiction of Jesus near the end of his life. He symbolically rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, referencing both an Elijah prophecy and a symbol of humility. Most significantly, Jesus is led away to be crucified as a silent sheep and as a lamb being “led to the slaughter”(Isaiah 53). Jesus is most frequently portrayed ironically as either a lion or a lamb. These seemingly contradictory metaphors highlight both the strength and majesty of Jesus symbolized by the lion, and the innocence and vulnerability of Jesus, depicted by the “lamb”. Sheep play a prominent role in Jesus description of his disciples and us as well. He speaks of the 99 sheep and the one that went astray (Matthew 18:12). If we are the sheep, then Jesus becomes the shepherd. “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep…. My sheep hear my voice…” (John 10:11,27) While Jesus is described as a lamb largely due to his innocence and his sacrificial role, the use of “sheep” to describe the church and humanity is most likely a result of the fact that sheep are considered to be dumb asses. Speaking of asses, one animal story plays an important role in the interests of small children and adults as well. Upon this morsel we shall nibble tomorrow.
Before considering the nature of Jesus in the development of porpoise-driven theology, let us begin by dispelling some likely criticism that this paradigm will receive. How dare I compare God and the Christian life to common animals? Is this not sacrelige? No, I say, far from it. I am not the first to use animals in such a way as to represent divine truths. I’m simply standing on the shoulders of the Biblical writers and the authors of many other sacred texts. The use of all kinds of animals play a crucial role in the messages of both the Hebrew and Chrisitian Scriptures. We only make it to chapter 3 of Genesis before a talking serpent appears, representing Satan and the personification of evil and temptation, or rather the reptilification of evil. The account of Noah in Genesis also highlights the importance of animals in the Biblical text. Noah crams a boat-load of them onto his gopher-wooded dinghy, granting them entrance ahead of his own neighbors and in-laws. We then encounter references to ravens and doves which appear in divine roles throughout the Biblical text, the most significant symbol being the Holy Spirit descending “as a dove” at Jesus’ baptism (Mark 1:10).
God is not confined to just birds and reptiles in herm’s revelation of divine truth. The Bible is loaded with mammalian metaphors. Most importantly you have the “lion of Judah,” and the “lamb of God” who takes away the sin of the world. More incidentally, you have the two angry she-bears that come out of the woods and eat the children who were taunting Elisha for his baldness (II Kings 2:24), and the camel trying to walk through the eye of a needle, symbolizing how difficult it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 19:24). The pharisees and scribes are called “dogs” and a “brood of vipers.” More positive uses for divine animal metaphors accompany Jesus’ teaching as well. In a rare female metaphor for the divine, Jesus’s sadness and compassion for Israel is summed up in his saying that he was like a hen:
Luke 13:34 (NAS)
34"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not have it!"
Animals play a particularly significant role in the depiction of Jesus near the end of his life. He symbolically rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, referencing both an Elijah prophecy and a symbol of humility. Most significantly, Jesus is led away to be crucified as a silent sheep and as a lamb being “led to the slaughter”(Isaiah 53). Jesus is most frequently portrayed ironically as either a lion or a lamb. These seemingly contradictory metaphors highlight both the strength and majesty of Jesus symbolized by the lion, and the innocence and vulnerability of Jesus, depicted by the “lamb”. Sheep play a prominent role in Jesus description of his disciples and us as well. He speaks of the 99 sheep and the one that went astray (Matthew 18:12). If we are the sheep, then Jesus becomes the shepherd. “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep…. My sheep hear my voice…” (John 10:11,27) While Jesus is described as a lamb largely due to his innocence and his sacrificial role, the use of “sheep” to describe the church and humanity is most likely a result of the fact that sheep are considered to be dumb asses. Speaking of asses, one animal story plays an important role in the interests of small children and adults as well. Upon this morsel we shall nibble tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
From Olympic Bongs to Free Corn Flakes
From Olympic Bongs to Free Corn Flakes: All Things Work Together for Good..
We have discussed the fact that some bad things just happen for no good reason. But as people of faith, we cannot stop there. We must not concede that evil always has the last word. Many truly bad things can be used to bring about truly good things. First of all, this could include some things that we “perceive” as bad at the time which are, in the end, good things. Several types of events come to mind. Cindy’s trip to the doctor for bronchitis leads to an x-ray that reveals an unexpected, but treatable cancer. Stan’s job loss leads to the opportunity of a job in a career that he always kind of wanted to do anyway but he hated to risk his stability. The situations could be more extreme. A wealthy couple’s new home burns to the ground, forcing them to rely on each other and discover what’s really important to their family. A painful infidelity leads a rock singer to the woman he always should have been with in the first place. (cf. Chicago’s 1988 mild hit, “If she would have been faithful” off Chicago XVIII). In all of these cases, something that was truly perceived as bad, later can be seen as a blessing. It is not fair for us to say that these events weren’t really bad, at least at the time. All of these events were bad in and of themselves, especially something as tragic as the loss of a home or infidelity of a partner. But seen in a broader context over time, these events are not seen as being as bad as they once seemed. We might call these experiences, “Not so sucky after-all events.”
There are other events which remain as bad as they ever were, but God somehow brings good out of them, often ironically, and sometimes humorously. The most recent example I’ve encountered of this occurred recently in the midst of the Michael Phelps’ bong photo debacle. Here we have an 8 time gold medal winning Olympic American hero. The good kid who hits the big time and makes his country and momma proud. Proud, that is, until he hits something else besides the big time. What makes things worse is Michael fails to notice his buddy over his shoulder with his camera phone trained on his pot-bong whilst he takes that hit. Granted the event was not intended to cause an uproar in his life, but a few months later it wreaks havoc on a truly Fox-Network-free American idol. Michael comes clean, apologizes, and accepts many forms of societal punishment for his mistake. One of the most financially painful punishments is the loss of some lucrative sponsors. Kellogg’s is in a dilemma. Here we are, the promoter of wholesome cereals.. And now we just produced a butt-load of Corn Flakes with a stoner on the box! What to do with all these Phelps-faced corn flakes? Ironically, corn flakes make a pretty good munchy so any Kellogg’s action against hashish is a bit self-defeating. Still, the brass at Kellogg’s decide to drop the Phelps sponsorship. No official action was taken with the cereal boxes that bore Phelp’s post-bong, pre-mug shot. However, the San Francisco food pantry experienced a miracle. 3800 pounds of Kellogg’s cereal randomly showed up on their doorstep, all with Michael Phelps’ awkward grin on the boxes. Cereal is very difficult to get donated, apparently, and the cereal has flown off the food pantry shelves faster than Phelps’ swam the 100 meter breast stroke. The result is that a an American sports tragedy becomes tasty corn flakes for thousands of San Francisco’s poor.
It seems to me to hold true that if Jesus can feed the 5,000 with 2 loaves of bread and some crappie, then God can feed 5,000 with a digital photo of a sports hero taking a bong hit. This is not just divine providence. This is divine poetry. It is not only God having fun, but God simply taking something bad and making something good out of it. This is God doing what herm does best, take the broken tragedies of our lives and make something beautiful out of them. It is the speech-impeded fugitive, Moses, leading his people out of Egypt. It is the coniving, momma’s boy, Jacob, fathering the 12 tribes of Israel. It is the murderous David who can’t keep his rocket in his pocket becoming a “man after God’s own heart.” And it is the folly of the cross on which a murdered homeless man becomes the savior of the world.
Romans 8:28 is a powerful verse that has been wielded in many a bad situations. “…God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.” This verse is often turned to as a quick fix for any concern that may arise as to why something bad has happened, usually in someone else’s life. But the wording is important here. It doesn’t say God causes all bad things to happen or even that God causes anything specific to happen. It says that God causes all things “to work together for good....” This means that although life sucks, God is able to do something beautiful with our screwed up world. It means God is in in the business of recycling our discarded trash, dislodging the shrapnel of our bad decisions, restoring the softness to our dried up Play-doh lives so we can try again. It means God can and does take that which is meant for evil and turn it to good. This is what it means to turn discarded champions into real Corn Flake heroes and turn the murder of the Son of God into the ultimate symbol of love and hope. ( save this for next chapter?) And this leads to the central tenet of the Christian faith, God’s work in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
We have discussed the fact that some bad things just happen for no good reason. But as people of faith, we cannot stop there. We must not concede that evil always has the last word. Many truly bad things can be used to bring about truly good things. First of all, this could include some things that we “perceive” as bad at the time which are, in the end, good things. Several types of events come to mind. Cindy’s trip to the doctor for bronchitis leads to an x-ray that reveals an unexpected, but treatable cancer. Stan’s job loss leads to the opportunity of a job in a career that he always kind of wanted to do anyway but he hated to risk his stability. The situations could be more extreme. A wealthy couple’s new home burns to the ground, forcing them to rely on each other and discover what’s really important to their family. A painful infidelity leads a rock singer to the woman he always should have been with in the first place. (cf. Chicago’s 1988 mild hit, “If she would have been faithful” off Chicago XVIII). In all of these cases, something that was truly perceived as bad, later can be seen as a blessing. It is not fair for us to say that these events weren’t really bad, at least at the time. All of these events were bad in and of themselves, especially something as tragic as the loss of a home or infidelity of a partner. But seen in a broader context over time, these events are not seen as being as bad as they once seemed. We might call these experiences, “Not so sucky after-all events.”
There are other events which remain as bad as they ever were, but God somehow brings good out of them, often ironically, and sometimes humorously. The most recent example I’ve encountered of this occurred recently in the midst of the Michael Phelps’ bong photo debacle. Here we have an 8 time gold medal winning Olympic American hero. The good kid who hits the big time and makes his country and momma proud. Proud, that is, until he hits something else besides the big time. What makes things worse is Michael fails to notice his buddy over his shoulder with his camera phone trained on his pot-bong whilst he takes that hit. Granted the event was not intended to cause an uproar in his life, but a few months later it wreaks havoc on a truly Fox-Network-free American idol. Michael comes clean, apologizes, and accepts many forms of societal punishment for his mistake. One of the most financially painful punishments is the loss of some lucrative sponsors. Kellogg’s is in a dilemma. Here we are, the promoter of wholesome cereals.. And now we just produced a butt-load of Corn Flakes with a stoner on the box! What to do with all these Phelps-faced corn flakes? Ironically, corn flakes make a pretty good munchy so any Kellogg’s action against hashish is a bit self-defeating. Still, the brass at Kellogg’s decide to drop the Phelps sponsorship. No official action was taken with the cereal boxes that bore Phelp’s post-bong, pre-mug shot. However, the San Francisco food pantry experienced a miracle. 3800 pounds of Kellogg’s cereal randomly showed up on their doorstep, all with Michael Phelps’ awkward grin on the boxes. Cereal is very difficult to get donated, apparently, and the cereal has flown off the food pantry shelves faster than Phelps’ swam the 100 meter breast stroke. The result is that a an American sports tragedy becomes tasty corn flakes for thousands of San Francisco’s poor.
It seems to me to hold true that if Jesus can feed the 5,000 with 2 loaves of bread and some crappie, then God can feed 5,000 with a digital photo of a sports hero taking a bong hit. This is not just divine providence. This is divine poetry. It is not only God having fun, but God simply taking something bad and making something good out of it. This is God doing what herm does best, take the broken tragedies of our lives and make something beautiful out of them. It is the speech-impeded fugitive, Moses, leading his people out of Egypt. It is the coniving, momma’s boy, Jacob, fathering the 12 tribes of Israel. It is the murderous David who can’t keep his rocket in his pocket becoming a “man after God’s own heart.” And it is the folly of the cross on which a murdered homeless man becomes the savior of the world.
Romans 8:28 is a powerful verse that has been wielded in many a bad situations. “…God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.” This verse is often turned to as a quick fix for any concern that may arise as to why something bad has happened, usually in someone else’s life. But the wording is important here. It doesn’t say God causes all bad things to happen or even that God causes anything specific to happen. It says that God causes all things “to work together for good....” This means that although life sucks, God is able to do something beautiful with our screwed up world. It means God is in in the business of recycling our discarded trash, dislodging the shrapnel of our bad decisions, restoring the softness to our dried up Play-doh lives so we can try again. It means God can and does take that which is meant for evil and turn it to good. This is what it means to turn discarded champions into real Corn Flake heroes and turn the murder of the Son of God into the ultimate symbol of love and hope. ( save this for next chapter?) And this leads to the central tenet of the Christian faith, God’s work in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
There's Not a Reason for Everything
“There’s not a reason for everything.”
One key to learning to live the porpoise driven life is realizing that there’s not a reason for everything. A few days after starting to write this opus, I was struck by a breaking news story in the background of my living room. After spending a the requisite 4 minutes finding a sofa cushion to house my bowl of grape nuts and locating the remote in the ass crack of my recliner, I honed in on the news story. Dolphins had just made an evolutionary leap. A dolphin in Orlando had just developed the ability to blow bubbles. The video footage was impressive. With his mouth, the dolphin had created a large ring-like bubble and was bouncing it to and fro with his bill, beak, mouth, whatever. The dolphin swam its way keeping the bubble bouncing in front of him like David Beckham with a Voit on his way to earning his 10 million dollar contract with another goal. Soon, however, the bubble burst, to both the frustration and delight of the dolphin. The news’ story continued by declaring that, surprisingly, all the other dolphins in the tank picked up on the trick and soon were producing and playing with their own bubbles. Soon, the tank became a bubble bath with more bubble’s being blown than in a 7th grade science classroom with no teacher and a case of Bubblicious. Of course, the questions and commentary from the dolphin community began to explode. Why did they do this? How did they develop bubble making ability? What does it all mean? Surely this is an evolutionary breakthrough of some kind. I’m no biologist, but I think even Chuck Darwin would be hard pressed to prove that bubble blowing was somehow a necessary step in the dolphin quest for survival of the fittest. The truth is who knows why the dolphin bubbling and who cares? Odds are there are that is no reason why the dolphins started blowing bubbles except maybe the reason that one of them simply realized that he could. This should just be a great opportunity for marine biologists to stop taking themselves seriously, pull up a Sea World lawn chair, and enjoy the show.
Accepting some things as happening without reason is easy for us. No reason needed for why there are Braille letters on drive-thru ATM machines, or why we park in a drive way and drive on a parkway. The problem comes when something catastrophic happens in our lives. Then we soon begin to tell ourselves that there must be some reason for it. How could anything this bad happen for no good reason? As a chaplain, I’ve logged many hospital hallway miles and been with hundreds of families at the time of death of a spouse, father, or child. Many of these deaths are sudden, tragic, and sometimes even medically unexplainable. Hardly a death goes by that someone doesn’t search for the reason that something like this happens. Some are what we call “good deaths” where the patient has been sick forever and now the reason for the death is clear to the family. “God didn’t want him to suffer anymore.” “Now, he’s in a better place.” Other situations don’t present the family or the staff with such easy answers. A teenager is brain dead from a car wreck. A young father of three has an aneurism. Other tragedies raise the reason question every day. A house burns down. A retirement fund disappears. A family dissolves. These events sooner or later send us scrambling for answers as to why. Surely, there must be a reason? We say we don’t know it yet and may never know it, but God has a reason for all this bad stuff. The truth is there may not be a good reason. Or if there is, you and I are probably not going to know it for years. It is a scary proposition to think of the possibility of random, inexplicable, bad events happening to us or someone we love for no good reason. But this is exactly the world we bargained for when we attached ourselves to that uterine wall. The universe is full of beauty, life, and harmony. But it is also full of randomness, accidents, and uncertainty.
Two major natural tragedies took their toll on our souls this decade. The first happened on December 26, 2004. Suddenly the earth’s crust under the Indian Ocean couldn’t take it any more and went on a killing spree. The second largest earthquake ever measured pushed its way into the ocean around it and the result was a wave of tsunami that ultimately claimed the lives of 225,000 people in Southeast Asia. Having spent a formative year and a half in Thailand doing volunteer mission work and teaching, I was particularly troubled by this heinous act of Mother Nature. Not long after the tragedy struck, well-meaning religious people felt the need to either find deeper meaning in this nightmare or cover God’s butt for sleeping on the job. Various theological justifications emerged. They ran the gamut from God’s punishment of Indonesia for having the largest Muslim population in the world, to this being a clear sign that God was fed up with all of us. Now he is finally beginning to destroy the global house of cards he created 4000 years ago. The mounting death tolls, the destruction of villages, the orphaned children, all began to create a tsunami of its own in my own soul. I could quickly fend off the moralistic explanations of many of my fellow Christians, but I couldn’t muster up any better reasons. There is no comfortable position when something like this happens. The liberal is just as bankrupt as the conservative. There’s no easy answer or clever song that can get us out of this one. John Lennon and Toby Keith find themselves floating in the same silent boat in this tsunami of meaninglessness. The best we can do as people of faith is to admit that we are forced to decide between or reconcile three very unpleasant truths.
God lost his cool and exercised his capricious judgment by drowning hundreds of thousands of people just because they were near the water, while I got to sleep in my safe, dry home, and enjoy the holidays with my family.
God didn’t do it, but “allowed” it to happen. That is, God was sitting on his hands, couldn’t get to the remote fast enough, or just didn’t give an Asian rat’s fanny.
God is in fact not in control of natural stuff like this. It just happens and he experiences the consequences too and grieves just as we do.
You won’t find in this Sunday’s Joel Osteen sermon, but sometimes we have to choose which truth is the least appalling to us: A God who is sometimes angry and unfair, a God who doesn’t care enough to intervene, or a God who is powerless to stop some bad stuff that just happens. The truth probably lies in some dynamic combination of these options Admittedly, none of these theological positions is very easy to sleep with, but unless we are prepared to defend one of these views in the face of major tragedies that happen to those around us every day, we better keep our mouths shut.
Hurricane Katrina rolled into our coast in 2005 providing the U.S. with our own domestic tsunami. However, enough has been said about Katrina and I don’t have time to cut myself today, so let’s move on to something a little lighter and happier.. Let me close this chapter by saying that while there is not a reason for everything bad that happens, there is a reason for why many things happen and learning to wait and learn that lesson is a huge part of learning to live life well. Meanwhile, don’t forget to mindlessly enjoy your dolphin bubbles.
One key to learning to live the porpoise driven life is realizing that there’s not a reason for everything. A few days after starting to write this opus, I was struck by a breaking news story in the background of my living room. After spending a the requisite 4 minutes finding a sofa cushion to house my bowl of grape nuts and locating the remote in the ass crack of my recliner, I honed in on the news story. Dolphins had just made an evolutionary leap. A dolphin in Orlando had just developed the ability to blow bubbles. The video footage was impressive. With his mouth, the dolphin had created a large ring-like bubble and was bouncing it to and fro with his bill, beak, mouth, whatever. The dolphin swam its way keeping the bubble bouncing in front of him like David Beckham with a Voit on his way to earning his 10 million dollar contract with another goal. Soon, however, the bubble burst, to both the frustration and delight of the dolphin. The news’ story continued by declaring that, surprisingly, all the other dolphins in the tank picked up on the trick and soon were producing and playing with their own bubbles. Soon, the tank became a bubble bath with more bubble’s being blown than in a 7th grade science classroom with no teacher and a case of Bubblicious. Of course, the questions and commentary from the dolphin community began to explode. Why did they do this? How did they develop bubble making ability? What does it all mean? Surely this is an evolutionary breakthrough of some kind. I’m no biologist, but I think even Chuck Darwin would be hard pressed to prove that bubble blowing was somehow a necessary step in the dolphin quest for survival of the fittest. The truth is who knows why the dolphin bubbling and who cares? Odds are there are that is no reason why the dolphins started blowing bubbles except maybe the reason that one of them simply realized that he could. This should just be a great opportunity for marine biologists to stop taking themselves seriously, pull up a Sea World lawn chair, and enjoy the show.
Accepting some things as happening without reason is easy for us. No reason needed for why there are Braille letters on drive-thru ATM machines, or why we park in a drive way and drive on a parkway. The problem comes when something catastrophic happens in our lives. Then we soon begin to tell ourselves that there must be some reason for it. How could anything this bad happen for no good reason? As a chaplain, I’ve logged many hospital hallway miles and been with hundreds of families at the time of death of a spouse, father, or child. Many of these deaths are sudden, tragic, and sometimes even medically unexplainable. Hardly a death goes by that someone doesn’t search for the reason that something like this happens. Some are what we call “good deaths” where the patient has been sick forever and now the reason for the death is clear to the family. “God didn’t want him to suffer anymore.” “Now, he’s in a better place.” Other situations don’t present the family or the staff with such easy answers. A teenager is brain dead from a car wreck. A young father of three has an aneurism. Other tragedies raise the reason question every day. A house burns down. A retirement fund disappears. A family dissolves. These events sooner or later send us scrambling for answers as to why. Surely, there must be a reason? We say we don’t know it yet and may never know it, but God has a reason for all this bad stuff. The truth is there may not be a good reason. Or if there is, you and I are probably not going to know it for years. It is a scary proposition to think of the possibility of random, inexplicable, bad events happening to us or someone we love for no good reason. But this is exactly the world we bargained for when we attached ourselves to that uterine wall. The universe is full of beauty, life, and harmony. But it is also full of randomness, accidents, and uncertainty.
Two major natural tragedies took their toll on our souls this decade. The first happened on December 26, 2004. Suddenly the earth’s crust under the Indian Ocean couldn’t take it any more and went on a killing spree. The second largest earthquake ever measured pushed its way into the ocean around it and the result was a wave of tsunami that ultimately claimed the lives of 225,000 people in Southeast Asia. Having spent a formative year and a half in Thailand doing volunteer mission work and teaching, I was particularly troubled by this heinous act of Mother Nature. Not long after the tragedy struck, well-meaning religious people felt the need to either find deeper meaning in this nightmare or cover God’s butt for sleeping on the job. Various theological justifications emerged. They ran the gamut from God’s punishment of Indonesia for having the largest Muslim population in the world, to this being a clear sign that God was fed up with all of us. Now he is finally beginning to destroy the global house of cards he created 4000 years ago. The mounting death tolls, the destruction of villages, the orphaned children, all began to create a tsunami of its own in my own soul. I could quickly fend off the moralistic explanations of many of my fellow Christians, but I couldn’t muster up any better reasons. There is no comfortable position when something like this happens. The liberal is just as bankrupt as the conservative. There’s no easy answer or clever song that can get us out of this one. John Lennon and Toby Keith find themselves floating in the same silent boat in this tsunami of meaninglessness. The best we can do as people of faith is to admit that we are forced to decide between or reconcile three very unpleasant truths.
God lost his cool and exercised his capricious judgment by drowning hundreds of thousands of people just because they were near the water, while I got to sleep in my safe, dry home, and enjoy the holidays with my family.
God didn’t do it, but “allowed” it to happen. That is, God was sitting on his hands, couldn’t get to the remote fast enough, or just didn’t give an Asian rat’s fanny.
God is in fact not in control of natural stuff like this. It just happens and he experiences the consequences too and grieves just as we do.
You won’t find in this Sunday’s Joel Osteen sermon, but sometimes we have to choose which truth is the least appalling to us: A God who is sometimes angry and unfair, a God who doesn’t care enough to intervene, or a God who is powerless to stop some bad stuff that just happens. The truth probably lies in some dynamic combination of these options Admittedly, none of these theological positions is very easy to sleep with, but unless we are prepared to defend one of these views in the face of major tragedies that happen to those around us every day, we better keep our mouths shut.
Hurricane Katrina rolled into our coast in 2005 providing the U.S. with our own domestic tsunami. However, enough has been said about Katrina and I don’t have time to cut myself today, so let’s move on to something a little lighter and happier.. Let me close this chapter by saying that while there is not a reason for everything bad that happens, there is a reason for why many things happen and learning to wait and learn that lesson is a huge part of learning to live life well. Meanwhile, don’t forget to mindlessly enjoy your dolphin bubbles.
Intro to Porpoise Driven Life
Rick Warren’s Purpose-Driven Life delighted and inspired millions of readers who needed to know that their life has purpose and wanted to know the steps to achieving that life. What about the rest of us? What about those of us who have long-since abandoned the quest for our lofty “purpose” and are just trying to survive the capricious, stormy, winds, that are banging against our double-wides every day? Some may have the luxury of waking every day to the esoteric question of how can I best fulfill my divine destiny?. I wake up wondering if I can find my glute with both hands on the way to raising the toilet lid for the 4th time since I went to sleep the night before.
Standing in front of the porcelain, ultimate questions flood my mind. Where is God in my day today? Uh,oh. I wonder if they pulled my car payment a day early since tomorrow is Saturday? How can I fulfill my earthly purpose? Crap, did I forget to take the garbage down. What areas of growth do I have as a parent today? Oh no, where can I scrounge two bucks for Jenna’s school lunch? And so the day continues with its probing questions: Why did I agree to be in charge of that? What is the best way to not take this call? Where’s my pager, keys, glasses, daytimer, and car? And so it goes, or at least so it went….. until that fateful day in October.
I was on sabbatical from my job as a hospital chaplain. I had just worked about 60 hours a week for a month, watching people die, fight, cry, and swear at the chaplain’s inability to assuage their medical needs. “What good are you to me!” exclaimed one angry vet to the sheepish chaplain who couldn’t produce a piece of dentyne to ease his palat. Realizing that I was quickly becoming “no good to anyone” I booked a cheap Southwest ticket to Tampa, haggled over a 17 dollar rental car promotion and checked into a “tier 1” motel room on my hotel rewards account. The next day I braved the oncoming rain to make it out to the pier for a guaranteed “dolphin sighting” boat cruise. With the storm headed in, all of the dolphin entrepreneurs were shutting down early. “No way you’re going to be able to make it out there today,” said one old crusty sailor as he finished tying up his boat for the night. But soon I was atop the lone cutter, brave enough to take the die-hard group of dolphin hunters for one more ride. We were told that we were “guaranteed” to see dolphins or promised another miserable wet ride for free where we might not see dolphins again. It’s kind of like those dating websites where losers are promised that if they don’t find a mate in 6 months, they are guaranteed another 6 months of humiliation for free. For a while the sea was silent as the waves crashed against our boat and the water sprayed us like a small child being hosed down after being caught playing GI Joes in a neighbor’s garden. But just as the Captain’s scripted nautical jokes began to run ashore, a huge-arse dolphin jumped in front of me. “Shit!” I exclaimed as my 100 kilos fell backward into the personal space of the parents of a small-child. So much for a family-friendly boat cruise. My excitement at my 17 dollar investment began to soar as the dolphin-quest took me places that I haven’t been since my surprise 9th grade birthday party. Suddenly I realized I was enthralled by the dolphins jumping willy-nilly in our wake. I felt like Doc when the flux capacitor first gave flight to the De’lorean in Back to the Future 1. I was more excited than the kids on the boat, the retirees, and the Captain Kangaroo who was dependent on the mammals for his semi-livelihood. The jovial, aquatic, creatures were appearing and disappearing at will, leaping and turning in the air, screaming and silent as they played their land mammal fools like a Charlie Daniels’ fiddle. They were not seeking their purpose in life. They weren’t dependent on formulas and effort for their salvation. No calendars, blackberries, wide screens, or Facebook events. Their spirituality was simple. They were happy and in control of their surroundings. The Porpoise Driven Life was born.
Standing in front of the porcelain, ultimate questions flood my mind. Where is God in my day today? Uh,oh. I wonder if they pulled my car payment a day early since tomorrow is Saturday? How can I fulfill my earthly purpose? Crap, did I forget to take the garbage down. What areas of growth do I have as a parent today? Oh no, where can I scrounge two bucks for Jenna’s school lunch? And so the day continues with its probing questions: Why did I agree to be in charge of that? What is the best way to not take this call? Where’s my pager, keys, glasses, daytimer, and car? And so it goes, or at least so it went….. until that fateful day in October.
I was on sabbatical from my job as a hospital chaplain. I had just worked about 60 hours a week for a month, watching people die, fight, cry, and swear at the chaplain’s inability to assuage their medical needs. “What good are you to me!” exclaimed one angry vet to the sheepish chaplain who couldn’t produce a piece of dentyne to ease his palat. Realizing that I was quickly becoming “no good to anyone” I booked a cheap Southwest ticket to Tampa, haggled over a 17 dollar rental car promotion and checked into a “tier 1” motel room on my hotel rewards account. The next day I braved the oncoming rain to make it out to the pier for a guaranteed “dolphin sighting” boat cruise. With the storm headed in, all of the dolphin entrepreneurs were shutting down early. “No way you’re going to be able to make it out there today,” said one old crusty sailor as he finished tying up his boat for the night. But soon I was atop the lone cutter, brave enough to take the die-hard group of dolphin hunters for one more ride. We were told that we were “guaranteed” to see dolphins or promised another miserable wet ride for free where we might not see dolphins again. It’s kind of like those dating websites where losers are promised that if they don’t find a mate in 6 months, they are guaranteed another 6 months of humiliation for free. For a while the sea was silent as the waves crashed against our boat and the water sprayed us like a small child being hosed down after being caught playing GI Joes in a neighbor’s garden. But just as the Captain’s scripted nautical jokes began to run ashore, a huge-arse dolphin jumped in front of me. “Shit!” I exclaimed as my 100 kilos fell backward into the personal space of the parents of a small-child. So much for a family-friendly boat cruise. My excitement at my 17 dollar investment began to soar as the dolphin-quest took me places that I haven’t been since my surprise 9th grade birthday party. Suddenly I realized I was enthralled by the dolphins jumping willy-nilly in our wake. I felt like Doc when the flux capacitor first gave flight to the De’lorean in Back to the Future 1. I was more excited than the kids on the boat, the retirees, and the Captain Kangaroo who was dependent on the mammals for his semi-livelihood. The jovial, aquatic, creatures were appearing and disappearing at will, leaping and turning in the air, screaming and silent as they played their land mammal fools like a Charlie Daniels’ fiddle. They were not seeking their purpose in life. They weren’t dependent on formulas and effort for their salvation. No calendars, blackberries, wide screens, or Facebook events. Their spirituality was simple. They were happy and in control of their surroundings. The Porpoise Driven Life was born.
What in Sea World am I Here For?
Part 1: What in Sea World am I here for?
The quest for the meaning of life has plagued humanity since the dawn of civilization. Wait a minute…no it hasn’t. 98.3 percent of the people who have ever lived never seriously questioned the meaning of life and I doubt if any one who has made it to page 3 of this book lost sleep over this question last night. The truth is that the proto-type of modern man was probably much more interested in how to dislodge the sliver of turkey drumstick from his molars than worrying about why he was here. And so it has been with humanity as we have it recorded in history. Very few of the Biblical characters ever discussed such lofty questions. None of the founders of the 3 major monotheistic religions ever discoursed on the subject. God calls Abraham from his home in UR, commanding him to haul all his family and stuff across the border. No record of Abraham asking why. In fact he makes it all the way to Egypt before we hear him speak, and then it is only to make sure he can pass his wife off as his sister so that Pharaoh will do her instead of killing him. The prophet Mohammed didn’t spend much time doodling on his philosophical Sudoku about the meaning of life. He was busy converting the entire Arabian Peninsula to Islam before his death. Jesus steered cleared of idle speculation about our purpose in life, saying only that he had come that they “may have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10 NAS ) When Jesus wasn’t trying to keep from getting pushed off a cliff or busy breaking up fights on the disciples’ short bus, he was way more concerned about how we live than why we live. Buddha didn’t raise the question of the origin and purpose of life at all. He compared life to getting shot with an arrow. You don’t have time to know or care who shot the arrow or why, you just got to figure out how to get it out. (cite reference) Even the great renaissance athlete and philosopher of the late ‘80’s, Bo Jackson, offered but one kernel of truth, “just do it.”
Only the writer of Ecclesiastes let himself get hung up on the question of the meaning of life. And, maybe not so ironically, he was the wealthiest of all of the bunch and had plenty of time to think about such questions. Unfortunately, his conclusion was less inspiring than a half hour of Nancy Grace: “I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after the wind.” (1: 14, NAS)
Homer, not Simpson, tackled this question sometime in the midst of charting two of his novels on the NY Times best-seller list, The Iliad and The Odyssey. Here is his happy synopsis of the meaning of life:
Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead. Homer, 9th Century BC
Maybe we can learn from these and other great minds who devoted their lives to the quest for why we are here. Here’s the lesson, don’t think about it. If you do, you’re liable to end up more depressed than a Blockbuster shareholder on the eve of Netflix. I’m open-minded, inquisitive, and not afraid of the truth. But there are certain questions that are better off not asked. “When are you due?” “Did you not get my text?” “Is this my hair on this Whopper?” “W exactly is there a 13 dollar Ticketmaster convenience fee So it is with most “why” questions Usually, when the “why” question comes up in our daily lives, it’s not a good sign. “Why” did I pay 9.25 to see this movie? ? “Why” did we get up at 4 o’clock to stand in line for this Wal-mart Black Friday sale? “Why” exactly is there a 13 dollar Ticketmaster convenience fee? An “why” did I buy this 60 dollar Gordon Lightfoot ticket anyway? As long as life is good, rarely do ultimate questions of life’s meaning arise. And maybe that’s a good thing. As soon as we stop and obsess about the why’s of our existence, our soul slips into neutral, and we stop experiencing life.
And so it is with the porpoise driven life. The perma-smile on a dolphin’s face is not the result of a benevolent obsession to make small humans happy, nor is it the sadistic smile of countless Jokers in 5 decades of Batman. The dolphin’s smile is a result of the fact that the dolphin is wise. He is wise enough to never stop and think about why his aquatic ass is trapped in a 10,000 gallon tank for the rest of his life while his intelligence is exploited by underpaid 16 year-olds. The unreflected life can be a beautiful life, or at least let’s wait until the credits start to roll.
The quest for the meaning of life has plagued humanity since the dawn of civilization. Wait a minute…no it hasn’t. 98.3 percent of the people who have ever lived never seriously questioned the meaning of life and I doubt if any one who has made it to page 3 of this book lost sleep over this question last night. The truth is that the proto-type of modern man was probably much more interested in how to dislodge the sliver of turkey drumstick from his molars than worrying about why he was here. And so it has been with humanity as we have it recorded in history. Very few of the Biblical characters ever discussed such lofty questions. None of the founders of the 3 major monotheistic religions ever discoursed on the subject. God calls Abraham from his home in UR, commanding him to haul all his family and stuff across the border. No record of Abraham asking why. In fact he makes it all the way to Egypt before we hear him speak, and then it is only to make sure he can pass his wife off as his sister so that Pharaoh will do her instead of killing him. The prophet Mohammed didn’t spend much time doodling on his philosophical Sudoku about the meaning of life. He was busy converting the entire Arabian Peninsula to Islam before his death. Jesus steered cleared of idle speculation about our purpose in life, saying only that he had come that they “may have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10 NAS ) When Jesus wasn’t trying to keep from getting pushed off a cliff or busy breaking up fights on the disciples’ short bus, he was way more concerned about how we live than why we live. Buddha didn’t raise the question of the origin and purpose of life at all. He compared life to getting shot with an arrow. You don’t have time to know or care who shot the arrow or why, you just got to figure out how to get it out. (cite reference) Even the great renaissance athlete and philosopher of the late ‘80’s, Bo Jackson, offered but one kernel of truth, “just do it.”
Only the writer of Ecclesiastes let himself get hung up on the question of the meaning of life. And, maybe not so ironically, he was the wealthiest of all of the bunch and had plenty of time to think about such questions. Unfortunately, his conclusion was less inspiring than a half hour of Nancy Grace: “I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after the wind.” (1: 14, NAS)
Homer, not Simpson, tackled this question sometime in the midst of charting two of his novels on the NY Times best-seller list, The Iliad and The Odyssey. Here is his happy synopsis of the meaning of life:
Insignificant mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again fade away and are dead. Homer, 9th Century BC
Maybe we can learn from these and other great minds who devoted their lives to the quest for why we are here. Here’s the lesson, don’t think about it. If you do, you’re liable to end up more depressed than a Blockbuster shareholder on the eve of Netflix. I’m open-minded, inquisitive, and not afraid of the truth. But there are certain questions that are better off not asked. “When are you due?” “Did you not get my text?” “Is this my hair on this Whopper?” “W exactly is there a 13 dollar Ticketmaster convenience fee So it is with most “why” questions Usually, when the “why” question comes up in our daily lives, it’s not a good sign. “Why” did I pay 9.25 to see this movie? ? “Why” did we get up at 4 o’clock to stand in line for this Wal-mart Black Friday sale? “Why” exactly is there a 13 dollar Ticketmaster convenience fee? An “why” did I buy this 60 dollar Gordon Lightfoot ticket anyway? As long as life is good, rarely do ultimate questions of life’s meaning arise. And maybe that’s a good thing. As soon as we stop and obsess about the why’s of our existence, our soul slips into neutral, and we stop experiencing life.
And so it is with the porpoise driven life. The perma-smile on a dolphin’s face is not the result of a benevolent obsession to make small humans happy, nor is it the sadistic smile of countless Jokers in 5 decades of Batman. The dolphin’s smile is a result of the fact that the dolphin is wise. He is wise enough to never stop and think about why his aquatic ass is trapped in a 10,000 gallon tank for the rest of his life while his intelligence is exploited by underpaid 16 year-olds. The unreflected life can be a beautiful life, or at least let’s wait until the credits start to roll.
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