Friday, July 13, 2012
Monday, July 09, 2012
Tale of 2 Scientists on CT
Check out this excellent article on 2 scientists, both believers, pursuing God and truth through their craft, even though one is a theistic evolutionist and one a young-earth creationist. We would all do well to heed their thought that the "war" between the 2 camps is doing much more harm than good, and too often reflects the same "demonization" tactics that exists in today's political world. Godly people disagree on this issue, and that's okay. Let us all keep pursuing God and his truth!
Friday, July 06, 2012
Great conversation about the Bible
Monday, June 18, 2012
Today's reading of the Writings was Ruth 1.1-18. A couple of things struck me about this. The first one was on the lighter side:
"But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you." Ruth 1.16-17 ESV
The 3.5 faithful readers know one of my main pet peeves is around the the misapplication of Bible verses. I just love the irony here. This passage, used often in wedding ceremonies, was really written about someone's relationship with their mother-in-law. Jaw-dropper.
But the heavier topic that jumped off the page to me was that this story has undocumented immigration written all throughout it. Naomi and Elimelech and their 2 sons immigrated illegally into Moab, a traditional enemy of Israel. They did it for the economic reality that they couldn't provide adequately for their family in their own country.
Now I know that the geo-political nation-state of today didn't arise until well into second half of the last millenium (is there a name for that? the "teen-illenium?") so the rules don't translate directly, but this story and others give us a picture of God's view on the treatment of immigrants. We are to care for the alien and stranger among us. We ourselves are "sojourners" in a nation-state to which we are, at best, secondarily citizens of.
How does our treatment of the sojourner among us reflect on the One we claim to follow?
"But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you." Ruth 1.16-17 ESV
The 3.5 faithful readers know one of my main pet peeves is around the the misapplication of Bible verses. I just love the irony here. This passage, used often in wedding ceremonies, was really written about someone's relationship with their mother-in-law. Jaw-dropper.
But the heavier topic that jumped off the page to me was that this story has undocumented immigration written all throughout it. Naomi and Elimelech and their 2 sons immigrated illegally into Moab, a traditional enemy of Israel. They did it for the economic reality that they couldn't provide adequately for their family in their own country.
Now I know that the geo-political nation-state of today didn't arise until well into second half of the last millenium (is there a name for that? the "teen-illenium?") so the rules don't translate directly, but this story and others give us a picture of God's view on the treatment of immigrants. We are to care for the alien and stranger among us. We ourselves are "sojourners" in a nation-state to which we are, at best, secondarily citizens of.
How does our treatment of the sojourner among us reflect on the One we claim to follow?
Are you a zombie?
"Zombies invented the lie that curiosity killed the cat."
You guys know I love Roy Williams, check out last week's Monday Morning Memo here if you want to make sure you're not a zombie.
Have a great week!
You guys know I love Roy Williams, check out last week's Monday Morning Memo here if you want to make sure you're not a zombie.
Have a great week!
Wednesday, May 02, 2012
Deciding to NOT work from a position of power
One of the common factors of USAmericans in general and many mission-minded evangelicals in particular is how we do our gospel work from a position of power and influence. We forget Jesus' teaching that it's the pagans who lead by lording (using power) and that he calls us to put a towel around our waist and wash dirty feet to follow his style.
A friend recently sent me a transcript of an interview between Andy Crouch and Dr. David Zac Niringiye, an African bishop. This is a must read for most USAmericans trying to change the world. May we all go to just be...be with people on the margins, be with the poor, the broken, the alien (documented or not), the prisoners, the sick...just be with them. Not to fix them. Not to heal them. But to be healed ourselves, because God works from the margins, not from the centers of power.
EXPERIENCING LIFE AT THE MARGINS
Interview by Andy Crouch with Dr. David Zac Niringiye | An African bishop tells North American Christians the most helpful gospel-thing they can do.
How can American pastors be leaders if they haven't seen what God is doing elsewhere [in the world]? As a longtime friend and partner of North American Christians, what have you noticed about us?
One of the gravest threats to the North American church is the deception of power—the deception of being at the center. Those at the center tend to think, "The future belongs to us. We are the shapers of tomorrow. The process of gospel transmission, the process of mission—all of it is on our terms, because we are powerful, because we are established. We have a track record of success, after all."
Yet recently the Lord led me to an amazing passage, the encounter between Jesus and Nathaniel in John 1. Nathaniel has decided Jesus is a non-entity. Jesus comes from Nazareth, after all.
Nathaniel's skepticism comes from being in power, being at the center. Those at the center decide that anyone not with us is—not against us—[but] just irrelevant. "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" It doesn't warrant our time. But the Messiah is from Nazareth.
Surprise, Nathaniel!
What's the problem with being at the center?
God very often is working most powerfully far from the center. Jesus is crucified outside Jerusalem—outside—with the very cynical sign over his head, "The King of the Jews." Surprise—he is the King of the Jews. "We had hoped … " say the disappointed disciples on the road to Emmaus, but he did not fulfill our criteria. In Acts, we read that the cross-cultural missionary thrust did not begin in Jerusalem. It began in Antioch, on the periphery, the margins. But Jerusalem is not ready for Antioch! In fact, even when they go to Antioch, it's just to check on what's happening.
I have come to the conclusion that the powerful, those at the center, must begin to realize that the future shape of things does not belong to them. The future shape of things is on the periphery. The future shape of things is not in Jerusalem, but outside. It is Nazareth. It is Antioch.
If you really want to understand the future of Christianity, go and see what is happening in Asia, Africa, Latin America. It's the periphery—but that's where the action is.
But many American churches are already deeply involved in missions overseas.
Of course. Yet it's so difficult to get American Christians, even those who profess to love missions and their brothers and sisters on the periphery, to actually come and see what is happening where we are. This is especially true of those in the positions of greatest power in the church. I have asked a friend, a pastor of a large church that gives half of its money to missions, to come and spend time on the fringes. But he won't. He wants to spend his study leave in Oxford, in Australia. How can American pastors be leaders if they haven't seen what God is doing elsewhere? Every search process for a senior pastor should ask, "Do you have experience in marginal places, economically deprived places, places with HIV/AIDS? Have you gone to be among them?"
What could equip us to be more countercultural, living in a nation that is very much at the center of power?
We need to begin to read the Bible differently. Americans have been preoccupied with the end of the Gospel of Matthew, the Great Commission: "Go and make." I call them go-and-make missionaries. These are the go-and-fix-it people. The go-and-make people are those who act like it's all in our power, and all we have to do is "finish the task." They love that passage! But when read from the center of power, that passage simply reinforces the illusion that it's about us, that we are in charge.
I would like to suggest a new favorite passage, the Great Invitation. It's what we find if we read from the beginning of the Gospels rather than the end. Jesus says, "Come, follow me. I will make you fishers of men." Not "Go and make," but "I will make you." It's all about Jesus. And do you know the last words of Jesus to Peter, in John 21? "Follow me." The last words of Simon Peter's encounter are the same as the first words.
Can we begin to read those passages that trouble us, that don't reinforce our cultural centeredness? Let's go back to Matthew 25 and read it in the church in America, over and over. Who are Jesus' brothers? The weak, the hungry, the immigrant workers, the economic outcasts. Let's read the passage of this woman who pours ointment over Jesus. Let's ask, who is mostly in the company of Jesus? Not bishops and pastors! The bishops and pastors are the ones who suggest he's a lunatic! Who enjoys his company? The ordinary folk, so ordinary that their characterization is simply this: "sinners." Can we begin to point to those passages?
Yet this ability to read different passages, to read the Bible differently, won't happen until people are displaced from their comfort zones. I thank the Lord for deep friendships he has given to me beyond my comfort zone, beyond my culture, beyond my language. Until that happens, we will all be tribal, all of us.
Many of us want those relationships beyond our own tribe, but how does that happen?
It is very simple. Come and be with us, with no agenda other than to be with us. One friend of mine by the name of Mark, a pastor of a large church, amazed me when he came to visit. He came for three weeks, and he said, "All I want is to come and be with you." At first, I didn't believe him.
"Zac," he said, "wherever you go, I want to go. I'm not asking what I can do—I just want to come and be with you." So he came. We went to an HIV/AIDS clinic, and they asked us to pray. I had introduced him as Rev. Dr. So-and-So—I couldn't just be praying and have him be standing there. So I said, "Mark, you start there, laying hands on all these AIDS patients, and I'll start here." I didn't ask him for permission—I just told him to do it, because that's what you do. And he did.
We went to northern Uganda, where the civil war is causing such suffering. And Mark didn't ask, "Is it safe for me?" That amazed me. If it was safe for me, then it would be safe for him. He was not unaware of his power, as a mzungu, and that people would think he has a lot of money.
He asked me, "What should I say? What would be appropriate?"
"Just bring greetings," I said.
And I tell you what. He did just that. He was so humble. Of course, there are leaders who come to Africa, who go to Asia, and they come away the same. In fact, they come away worse, with a greater sense of how they are going to change the whole world! But we lose our legitimacy as Christian leaders in an affluent country like [the U.S.] if we can't use that affluence in order to experience the situation of those on the margins. "God so loved the world"—how dare we say we identify with him in that love if we don't go there, if we don't choose the margins?
What part does racism play in all this?
You never discover how racist you are until you have the opportunity to be a racist. The genocide in Rwanda was a very challenging experience for me. I came to Washington in 1995, and some friends were asking, "What do we do in Rwanda?" They were saying, "What do we do with these Hutus, who are such killers?" As if the Hutus were created killers! "Actually," I said, "I am Hutu." I share an ethnic identity with them, as does most of southwest Uganda.
And until I got to Rwanda, I didn't realize how sympathetic I had been to the Hutu cause. Then it hit me. And I began the journey of being freed from that—freed from that history of sympathy for a cause that was just Hutu. Until the opportunity is given to you to face your own racism, you'll function under its power, under its spell. The only way to lose it is to go.
What do Americans need to understand about the main challenge facing Africa?
Africa's crisis is not poverty; it is not AIDS. Africa's crisis is confidence. What decades of colonialism and missionary enterprise eroded among us is confidence. So a "national leader" from the United States comes—he may have a good-sized congregation, but he knows nothing about Africa!—and we defer to him. We don't even tell him everything we are thinking, out of respect. We Africans must constantly repent of that sense of inferiority.
With its tremendous growth, how is African Christianity countercultural?
With all the growth of the African church, we are still facing the prospect of being a religious minority. It may be that in fifty years' time, Africa will be predominantly Muslim. One hundred years ago, Europe and America decided to take over Africa. They marshaled economic power, manpower; they transported their culture, education, and religion. Now sub-Saharan Africa is culturally Western. And Muslims today are applying the same energies to sub-Saharan Africa.
In Uganda, they are succeeding. Muslims are buying property in Uganda; they are sending their brightest young people to law school. They have established amazing charitable organizations. The mosque in Kampala will be opened soon by Libya's President Qaddafi. It occupies the most central place in the city.
The temptation will be to try to apply power, to try to overcome the incursion of Islam. But that's not the way of the Cross. That's not the way it happens. Remember when Jesus and his disciples were passing through the village in Samaria? For many Christians, the Muslims are like Samaritans—a minority that has left our faith and holds to a different faith. When the Samaritans were not hospitable to Jesus, the disciples said, "Just call fire down and blow these guys up!" Yet it's the Samaritans who listen to the woman who met Jesus at the well. Later in Acts, the same apostles go to the Samaritans.
The situation in America and Africa is not so different. Recently, an American evangelical leader said to me, "In a few years' time, it's going to be very difficult for anyone who wants to be a disciple of Jesus in America." But I said to him, actually, no, it is very difficult now. If you are truly a disciple of Jesus, it is very difficult. The same is true in Africa. When I speak in some countries where Islam is powerful, they shout me down. The Bible says, "When somebody strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek"—but they ask me, "What happens when there are no more cheeks to turn?"
Whether in Africa or America, the Cross is not an easy place to be—it is the symbol of our faith, but we do not love the Cross. "Come down from the Cross" is the cry not just of the Jewish leaders; it's the cry even of us Christians. We want Christ to come down from the Cross. We don't like the Cross.
Posted on July 14, 2006
A friend recently sent me a transcript of an interview between Andy Crouch and Dr. David Zac Niringiye, an African bishop. This is a must read for most USAmericans trying to change the world. May we all go to just be...be with people on the margins, be with the poor, the broken, the alien (documented or not), the prisoners, the sick...just be with them. Not to fix them. Not to heal them. But to be healed ourselves, because God works from the margins, not from the centers of power.
EXPERIENCING LIFE AT THE MARGINS
Interview by Andy Crouch with Dr. David Zac Niringiye | An African bishop tells North American Christians the most helpful gospel-thing they can do.
How can American pastors be leaders if they haven't seen what God is doing elsewhere [in the world]? As a longtime friend and partner of North American Christians, what have you noticed about us?
One of the gravest threats to the North American church is the deception of power—the deception of being at the center. Those at the center tend to think, "The future belongs to us. We are the shapers of tomorrow. The process of gospel transmission, the process of mission—all of it is on our terms, because we are powerful, because we are established. We have a track record of success, after all."
Yet recently the Lord led me to an amazing passage, the encounter between Jesus and Nathaniel in John 1. Nathaniel has decided Jesus is a non-entity. Jesus comes from Nazareth, after all.
Nathaniel's skepticism comes from being in power, being at the center. Those at the center decide that anyone not with us is—not against us—[but] just irrelevant. "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" It doesn't warrant our time. But the Messiah is from Nazareth.
Surprise, Nathaniel!
What's the problem with being at the center?
God very often is working most powerfully far from the center. Jesus is crucified outside Jerusalem—outside—with the very cynical sign over his head, "The King of the Jews." Surprise—he is the King of the Jews. "We had hoped … " say the disappointed disciples on the road to Emmaus, but he did not fulfill our criteria. In Acts, we read that the cross-cultural missionary thrust did not begin in Jerusalem. It began in Antioch, on the periphery, the margins. But Jerusalem is not ready for Antioch! In fact, even when they go to Antioch, it's just to check on what's happening.
I have come to the conclusion that the powerful, those at the center, must begin to realize that the future shape of things does not belong to them. The future shape of things is on the periphery. The future shape of things is not in Jerusalem, but outside. It is Nazareth. It is Antioch.
If you really want to understand the future of Christianity, go and see what is happening in Asia, Africa, Latin America. It's the periphery—but that's where the action is.
But many American churches are already deeply involved in missions overseas.
Of course. Yet it's so difficult to get American Christians, even those who profess to love missions and their brothers and sisters on the periphery, to actually come and see what is happening where we are. This is especially true of those in the positions of greatest power in the church. I have asked a friend, a pastor of a large church that gives half of its money to missions, to come and spend time on the fringes. But he won't. He wants to spend his study leave in Oxford, in Australia. How can American pastors be leaders if they haven't seen what God is doing elsewhere? Every search process for a senior pastor should ask, "Do you have experience in marginal places, economically deprived places, places with HIV/AIDS? Have you gone to be among them?"
What could equip us to be more countercultural, living in a nation that is very much at the center of power?
We need to begin to read the Bible differently. Americans have been preoccupied with the end of the Gospel of Matthew, the Great Commission: "Go and make." I call them go-and-make missionaries. These are the go-and-fix-it people. The go-and-make people are those who act like it's all in our power, and all we have to do is "finish the task." They love that passage! But when read from the center of power, that passage simply reinforces the illusion that it's about us, that we are in charge.
I would like to suggest a new favorite passage, the Great Invitation. It's what we find if we read from the beginning of the Gospels rather than the end. Jesus says, "Come, follow me. I will make you fishers of men." Not "Go and make," but "I will make you." It's all about Jesus. And do you know the last words of Jesus to Peter, in John 21? "Follow me." The last words of Simon Peter's encounter are the same as the first words.
Can we begin to read those passages that trouble us, that don't reinforce our cultural centeredness? Let's go back to Matthew 25 and read it in the church in America, over and over. Who are Jesus' brothers? The weak, the hungry, the immigrant workers, the economic outcasts. Let's read the passage of this woman who pours ointment over Jesus. Let's ask, who is mostly in the company of Jesus? Not bishops and pastors! The bishops and pastors are the ones who suggest he's a lunatic! Who enjoys his company? The ordinary folk, so ordinary that their characterization is simply this: "sinners." Can we begin to point to those passages?
Yet this ability to read different passages, to read the Bible differently, won't happen until people are displaced from their comfort zones. I thank the Lord for deep friendships he has given to me beyond my comfort zone, beyond my culture, beyond my language. Until that happens, we will all be tribal, all of us.
Many of us want those relationships beyond our own tribe, but how does that happen?
It is very simple. Come and be with us, with no agenda other than to be with us. One friend of mine by the name of Mark, a pastor of a large church, amazed me when he came to visit. He came for three weeks, and he said, "All I want is to come and be with you." At first, I didn't believe him.
"Zac," he said, "wherever you go, I want to go. I'm not asking what I can do—I just want to come and be with you." So he came. We went to an HIV/AIDS clinic, and they asked us to pray. I had introduced him as Rev. Dr. So-and-So—I couldn't just be praying and have him be standing there. So I said, "Mark, you start there, laying hands on all these AIDS patients, and I'll start here." I didn't ask him for permission—I just told him to do it, because that's what you do. And he did.
We went to northern Uganda, where the civil war is causing such suffering. And Mark didn't ask, "Is it safe for me?" That amazed me. If it was safe for me, then it would be safe for him. He was not unaware of his power, as a mzungu, and that people would think he has a lot of money.
He asked me, "What should I say? What would be appropriate?"
"Just bring greetings," I said.
And I tell you what. He did just that. He was so humble. Of course, there are leaders who come to Africa, who go to Asia, and they come away the same. In fact, they come away worse, with a greater sense of how they are going to change the whole world! But we lose our legitimacy as Christian leaders in an affluent country like [the U.S.] if we can't use that affluence in order to experience the situation of those on the margins. "God so loved the world"—how dare we say we identify with him in that love if we don't go there, if we don't choose the margins?
What part does racism play in all this?
You never discover how racist you are until you have the opportunity to be a racist. The genocide in Rwanda was a very challenging experience for me. I came to Washington in 1995, and some friends were asking, "What do we do in Rwanda?" They were saying, "What do we do with these Hutus, who are such killers?" As if the Hutus were created killers! "Actually," I said, "I am Hutu." I share an ethnic identity with them, as does most of southwest Uganda.
And until I got to Rwanda, I didn't realize how sympathetic I had been to the Hutu cause. Then it hit me. And I began the journey of being freed from that—freed from that history of sympathy for a cause that was just Hutu. Until the opportunity is given to you to face your own racism, you'll function under its power, under its spell. The only way to lose it is to go.
What do Americans need to understand about the main challenge facing Africa?
Africa's crisis is not poverty; it is not AIDS. Africa's crisis is confidence. What decades of colonialism and missionary enterprise eroded among us is confidence. So a "national leader" from the United States comes—he may have a good-sized congregation, but he knows nothing about Africa!—and we defer to him. We don't even tell him everything we are thinking, out of respect. We Africans must constantly repent of that sense of inferiority.
With its tremendous growth, how is African Christianity countercultural?
With all the growth of the African church, we are still facing the prospect of being a religious minority. It may be that in fifty years' time, Africa will be predominantly Muslim. One hundred years ago, Europe and America decided to take over Africa. They marshaled economic power, manpower; they transported their culture, education, and religion. Now sub-Saharan Africa is culturally Western. And Muslims today are applying the same energies to sub-Saharan Africa.
In Uganda, they are succeeding. Muslims are buying property in Uganda; they are sending their brightest young people to law school. They have established amazing charitable organizations. The mosque in Kampala will be opened soon by Libya's President Qaddafi. It occupies the most central place in the city.
The temptation will be to try to apply power, to try to overcome the incursion of Islam. But that's not the way of the Cross. That's not the way it happens. Remember when Jesus and his disciples were passing through the village in Samaria? For many Christians, the Muslims are like Samaritans—a minority that has left our faith and holds to a different faith. When the Samaritans were not hospitable to Jesus, the disciples said, "Just call fire down and blow these guys up!" Yet it's the Samaritans who listen to the woman who met Jesus at the well. Later in Acts, the same apostles go to the Samaritans.
The situation in America and Africa is not so different. Recently, an American evangelical leader said to me, "In a few years' time, it's going to be very difficult for anyone who wants to be a disciple of Jesus in America." But I said to him, actually, no, it is very difficult now. If you are truly a disciple of Jesus, it is very difficult. The same is true in Africa. When I speak in some countries where Islam is powerful, they shout me down. The Bible says, "When somebody strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek"—but they ask me, "What happens when there are no more cheeks to turn?"
Whether in Africa or America, the Cross is not an easy place to be—it is the symbol of our faith, but we do not love the Cross. "Come down from the Cross" is the cry not just of the Jewish leaders; it's the cry even of us Christians. We want Christ to come down from the Cross. We don't like the Cross.
Posted on July 14, 2006
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Book Review: Founding Faith by Steven Waldman
Okay, so any book that is endorsed on the back by both Jim Wallis and Bill Bennett gets my immediate respect. It's pretty tough to write a book that pleases both sides of the political aisle, especially when that book is about the sometimes mythical "founding fathers" of the United States of America. They are our gods on Mt. Olympus, invoked by political and religious leaders on multiple sides of virtually every issue at the forefront (or even middlefront) of society in the US.
I found this book at Half Price Bookstores, originally written in 2008, and I was sad that I hadn't seen it before. Let's just get this out of the way early--I give this book my coveted 5 bellybutton rating. It is a must-read for anyone who wants to see a balanced and historically accurate (not to mention relevant) rendering of some of our favorite founders, like Ben Franklin, George Washington, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson.
Here's the premise of the book, stated well in the last sentence of the introduction:
The Founding Faith, then, was not Christianity, and it was not secularism. It was religious liberty--a revolutionary formula for promoting faith by leaving it alone.
Waldman does a fantastic job quoting fully from the founders, and works to outline the meanings of their writings within their context, not pulling out quotes to justify something in our context. The book is full of quotable stuff (my favorite may be this jewel from Franklin: "Our frontier people call themselves Christians! They [the Indians] would have been safer, if they had submitted to the Turks."
It's a great book, and I hope you'll find it and read it. If you live in North Texas and want my copy, just let me know and it's yours. Without giving too much away, I'm just going to share Waldman's fallacies from his last chapter, entitled "They Were Right."
Liberal Fallacy #1: Most Founding Fathers were Deists or secular.
Conservative Fallacy #1: Most Founding Fathers were serious Christians.
Liberal Fallacy #2: The Constitution demanded strict separation of church and state throughout the land.
Conservative Fallacy #2: Separation of church and state is a twentieth-century invention of the courts.
Liberal Fallacy #3: Separation of church and state was designed mostly to protect religious minorities.
Conservative Fallacy #3: Advocates of separation are anti-religion.
Common Fallacy #4: The Founders had figured this all out.
Waldman goes to great lengths to point out all of these fallacies. So the 3.5 faithful readers of this blog know why I like it so much: it works to be in a middle ground, accurately reflecting the information available, as opposed to demonizing an opponent and painting him/her into an extreme position by only quoting the favorable founders' stuff, often plucked out of context.
Great read. OOOOO 5 bellybuttons in the Phatter than O book club.
I found this book at Half Price Bookstores, originally written in 2008, and I was sad that I hadn't seen it before. Let's just get this out of the way early--I give this book my coveted 5 bellybutton rating. It is a must-read for anyone who wants to see a balanced and historically accurate (not to mention relevant) rendering of some of our favorite founders, like Ben Franklin, George Washington, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson.
Here's the premise of the book, stated well in the last sentence of the introduction:
The Founding Faith, then, was not Christianity, and it was not secularism. It was religious liberty--a revolutionary formula for promoting faith by leaving it alone.
Waldman does a fantastic job quoting fully from the founders, and works to outline the meanings of their writings within their context, not pulling out quotes to justify something in our context. The book is full of quotable stuff (my favorite may be this jewel from Franklin: "Our frontier people call themselves Christians! They [the Indians] would have been safer, if they had submitted to the Turks."
It's a great book, and I hope you'll find it and read it. If you live in North Texas and want my copy, just let me know and it's yours. Without giving too much away, I'm just going to share Waldman's fallacies from his last chapter, entitled "They Were Right."
Liberal Fallacy #1: Most Founding Fathers were Deists or secular.
Conservative Fallacy #1: Most Founding Fathers were serious Christians.
Liberal Fallacy #2: The Constitution demanded strict separation of church and state throughout the land.
Conservative Fallacy #2: Separation of church and state is a twentieth-century invention of the courts.
Liberal Fallacy #3: Separation of church and state was designed mostly to protect religious minorities.
Conservative Fallacy #3: Advocates of separation are anti-religion.
Common Fallacy #4: The Founders had figured this all out.
Waldman goes to great lengths to point out all of these fallacies. So the 3.5 faithful readers of this blog know why I like it so much: it works to be in a middle ground, accurately reflecting the information available, as opposed to demonizing an opponent and painting him/her into an extreme position by only quoting the favorable founders' stuff, often plucked out of context.
Great read. OOOOO 5 bellybuttons in the Phatter than O book club.
Sunday, February 05, 2012
I am not mine
"We must completely forget ourselves, so that we regard ourselves as an object which has been sold and over which we no longer have any rights." Jean-Pierre de Caussade
I have found this to be vital to my living at shalom in this world, that I am a slave to God. There is no part of my life for which I am the master. I am not in control. When I demand my rights before God, I am placing myself above him. I am declaring my divinity, at least in regards to my own life. But when I give up all rights before him, he is my advocate. I no longer have anything to worry about but remaining close to him.
I have found this to be vital to my living at shalom in this world, that I am a slave to God. There is no part of my life for which I am the master. I am not in control. When I demand my rights before God, I am placing myself above him. I am declaring my divinity, at least in regards to my own life. But when I give up all rights before him, he is my advocate. I no longer have anything to worry about but remaining close to him.
Friday, February 03, 2012
The Pet Peeve Summary, or why you dropping off your kid in the driveway of the house across the street from the school makes me mad
The 3.5 faithful readers know that I've published rants in the past about my pet peeves. Now I don't have many (there's probably less than 10; I was going to link to old posts, but frankly I'm being too lazy right now), but the ones that tick me off, REALLY tick me off.
But last week as I dropped my daughter off at school, and once again watched a number of parents who think that the rules of the drop-off just don't apply to them (endangering their own children and others!), it hit me.
American exceptionalism has come home to roost in the soul of individuals. And it's called entitlement.
Entitlement has become a bad word in conservative circles, as it refers to the excesses around "safety net" programs of federal assistance, meant to help those in financial crises not fall through the cracks, but have a net that protects them from free fall. These programs do a lot of good, but for some have become places of entitlement, where with everything from food stamps to social security we believe that we are guaranteed certain benefits. We manipulate the system as much as possible for our own profit. By no means do I think that this is the majority of people in these programs, nor do I necessarily think that this means the program is bad, but there's ample evidence of people who game the system.
But the type of entitlement I'm referring to here is actually something different, and while it's more subtle, it's far more insidious to our overall well-being. It's an entitlement that doesn't try to game the system, but an entitlement that says "the system doesn't apply to me, at least in these circumstances." It is a sense of individual exceptionalism that says "I don't have to follow these rules," because I'm too important, too much in a hurry, or my kid is more important than yours, or my car is more expensive than yours, etc. etc.
After all, we deserve the best, right?
Yes, this sense of entitlement is much more prevalent than the usually-discussed-by-conservatives kind. And quite frankly I see it as even more common in those who have been successful in life at one level or another.
But I think that the teachings of Jesus, when they take root in us, will destroy this sense of individual exceptionalism. When we have the mind of Christ, we begin to think of "others as more important than ourselves." We learn to serve those around us, learn to be last instead of first, and see ourselves as stewards of God's resources, not owners of our own.
So here's my ultimate pet peeve (and there's no way around the fact that I'm all too guilty of this myself), people who ignore the system because of a sense of personal exceptionalism and entitlement.
Maybe with this I can just cut my pet peeves down to 1...
But last week as I dropped my daughter off at school, and once again watched a number of parents who think that the rules of the drop-off just don't apply to them (endangering their own children and others!), it hit me.
American exceptionalism has come home to roost in the soul of individuals. And it's called entitlement.
Entitlement has become a bad word in conservative circles, as it refers to the excesses around "safety net" programs of federal assistance, meant to help those in financial crises not fall through the cracks, but have a net that protects them from free fall. These programs do a lot of good, but for some have become places of entitlement, where with everything from food stamps to social security we believe that we are guaranteed certain benefits. We manipulate the system as much as possible for our own profit. By no means do I think that this is the majority of people in these programs, nor do I necessarily think that this means the program is bad, but there's ample evidence of people who game the system.
But the type of entitlement I'm referring to here is actually something different, and while it's more subtle, it's far more insidious to our overall well-being. It's an entitlement that doesn't try to game the system, but an entitlement that says "the system doesn't apply to me, at least in these circumstances." It is a sense of individual exceptionalism that says "I don't have to follow these rules," because I'm too important, too much in a hurry, or my kid is more important than yours, or my car is more expensive than yours, etc. etc.
After all, we deserve the best, right?
Yes, this sense of entitlement is much more prevalent than the usually-discussed-by-conservatives kind. And quite frankly I see it as even more common in those who have been successful in life at one level or another.
But I think that the teachings of Jesus, when they take root in us, will destroy this sense of individual exceptionalism. When we have the mind of Christ, we begin to think of "others as more important than ourselves." We learn to serve those around us, learn to be last instead of first, and see ourselves as stewards of God's resources, not owners of our own.
So here's my ultimate pet peeve (and there's no way around the fact that I'm all too guilty of this myself), people who ignore the system because of a sense of personal exceptionalism and entitlement.
Maybe with this I can just cut my pet peeves down to 1...
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