Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Original Sin

"Have you ever read b.d. napier's Come Sweet Death?" she asked.

That was my younger sister querying me; I had been a preacher for some half dozen years or so. She always read religious stuff with far greater frequency than I, and always stepped two moves ahead despite the age difference. I mean, besides hard core things, like readings in Hebrew or Greek, she had read all of the Chronicles of Narnia long before this writer even knew why Narnia might have written her chronicles.

"Never heard of the guy," said I.

"You should," said she.

The duly admonished older brother eventually caught up with the little tome in question, a used, somewhat unimposing paperback. And as he read, he recognized turns of phrase and concepts which he, the erstwhile preacher, himself had used from time to time in the writing of sermons. Finally, the now remembered rhythms imposed full force their truth into his consciousness. Indeed, he had read the epic poem years earlier; it left him so affected not only as to forget the source, but even to appropriate its cadences as though originally his own.

Self-deception stands in wonderful relief against the truth.

That's when I realized things real to the deepest me, are not even mine. So, I don't give attributions to self, and certainly not to forgotten others, all the more especially when the ideas seem most original with me. Truly, all attributions belong only to Somebody not deceived.

So I conclude that there is nothing new under the sun. But somebody else likely already said that.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

A Christian Nation

People commonly speak of nations in terms of their apparent religious heritage. Thus, people may speak of Greece as a Christian nation because of the prevalence of Christian Orthodoxy, or of its neighbor, Turkey, as a Muslim nation for equivalent reasons. Or Myanmar as Buddhist. This religious identification ostensibly comes from either the perception that a majority of a nation's citizens adheres to particular religious sensibilities, or perhaps that a nation's foundation documents subscribe explicitly to a specific religion's tenets, Iran an outstanding example of such.

The United States has been perceived as a Christian nation both because the majority of its citizens at least claims to follow some form of Christianity and because much of the political rhetoric makes claims to the fundamental document of Christianity, the Bible. Indeed, much of the myth of America, invoked through the Pilgrims' experience, speaks of this nation "under God" to embody principles and laws that draw from the Ten Commandments. How much more Christian can a nation get than that? (Now, discussion in some quarters lately concerns America's fall from grace, but such discussion only serves to underscore the nation's failure to meet its perceived Christian standard.)

Though we humans may define nations along religious lines, the matter posed here concerns biblical teaching itself: Does the Bible speak of any such nation at all being a Christian nation? The answer resounds, No!

First, the Ten Commandments, for all their commendation, do not stand as a fundamentally Christian document. The biblical witness without intelligent question, rather, shows the Ten Commandments to have root and soul in the formation of the ancient Hebrew nation, Israel, some millenium and a half before Jesus, the founder of the church of Christ, was born.

Second, by witness of the collection of writings usually called the New Testament, Jesus spoke clearly of a people he planned to engender by means of their faith in him as a savior from the ravages of rotten experiences and as the master of their lives. He would earn their respect and devotion through his evidenced deep love for them and his remarkable obedience to God. He planned to foster a people characterized by his teachings, exemplified notably in the so-called Beatitudes.

Third, this was a community without borders. He directed his earliest followers to proclaim his message of good news from where they were to the farthest reaches of the earth, to make followers in every ethnicity/culture/nation.

And indeed, there is a people without geographical boundaries on Earth, without political agenda on Earth, without a capital on Earth, without a ruler on Earth. In this sense only may one find a nation beyond nations, comprised of persons from every nation, every tribe, every cultural group, every language. That "nation" is chosen from some Iranians, from some Israelis, from some Maori, from some Chinese, from some Filipinos, from some Africans, from some Europeans, from some Americans, from some Argentinians, from some Uzbekistanis, from some Tibetans, from some Mexicans, from some Tlingit, from some Koreans, from some etc., ad infinitum, clear to the ends of Earth. These gather, joyfully bound together in a communion belonging to the one who created them and loves them for ever, world without end.

High Tide

A group of older fellows meets at McDonald's for breakfast. Informal, the group is quite regular in its presence, though individuals may ebb and flow with seasons and vagaries of life ... and with the tides, their common ground; they have been, or yet are, fishermen. The group's conversation surges around the state of the economy, opportunities for fishing, politics, the Seahawks, who's had to go Down South for medical issues, and the like.

One morning, sitting at table, coffee cups in hand, waiting for the rest to stream in, two of the fellows chatted.
Then, out of the deep blue, the one says to the other, "You know, I've become completely convinced that the Bible, all of it, is inspired."
The other says, "Really. Have you read the whole Bible?"
The first says, "No. But the whole thing's inspired."
The other says, "Well, I tell you, I've read it and the Old Testament makes all sorts of sense. But the New Testament is a mess. And don't even try to read and understand Revelations. Don't get me started on that."
The first says, "It's still totally inspired."
Carried by that current for a while, they then gravitated to topics of more comfortable depth.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Free Speech

Speech is free to anyone willing to live with its consequences.


Between Yet And Not Yet

Someone noted we live in the "in-between" age: an age that straddles past and future eras. In this "in-between" age we experience elements of a passing age, and we also sense new elements of an age yet to be fully manifest. Perhaps the "in-between" age has always marked human perception of things. Still, I mean an age characterized by a world yet here but in processes of passing away and of yielding reluctantly to a world quite not yet here. An "in-between" age of passing and yielding.

Clearly, movement from past through present to future arises from multiple, internal, inexorable forces of nature (themselves, so it seems, unchanging ... oddly enough). This movement, also clearly, arises from countless human decisions - whether determined or willfully free. But I mean not so much to speak to that "in-between" age, namely, of finding oneself in the midst of nature's processes. Rather, I speak here to an "in-between" age whose movement away from the passing system toward a world not yet here arises by force outside creation's cosmological system, which very force yet sustains the passing system.

This, the age within which I live: Between yet and not yet.

P.S. So, these notes, while open to those who may find them (but how would they? ... and if they did, why stay long enough to muse?), stand much more a mildly narcissistic repository of personal reflections and thinkings while life prevails "in-between", than they do as a soapbox -- though soapboxes aplenty likely will be. Musings in the sections ahead, consequently, may deal with most any notion.

P.P.S. Oh, and, as attributed to Solomon the wise, "there is nothing new under the sun" ... just so, nothing will be original, there yet will be no attributions.