What the Bleep do we Know?

A friend of mine recommended that I check out the film documentary, What the Bleep do we Know? I haven't been brave enough to check it out yet since documentaries are generally about as appealing to me as root canal sans novicane!

However, in the movie, much is made about belief and its power to provoke change. One of the most intriguing portions of the movie dealt with a study performed by a Japanese scientist named Dr. Emoto, who blessed water with various blessings, then took microscopic photographs, and found different formations at a micro level that looked similar to snowflakes. The argument here is that our beliefs do actually impact the world around us, and that if we only believe in something strong enough, we will in fact have the capability of influencing the world.

Is this true? If we believe in something strong enough, does that belief have the power to influence culture? It was my Tae Kwon Do instructor who was fond of saying, "Whether I think I can or whether I think I can't, I'm right." Thoughts?

you're in--you're out

Something about our human condition makes us want to be a part of an exclusive group. Not just any group, but an exclusive group, one that not everyone can get into, one that's reserved for just the right people who fit in. It happens with children, with youth and with adults. The problem is, there are always some people who don't get included, who don't get chosen at recess, who don't get asked to dance, who get black-balled, cold-shouldered, and voted off the island.

How do we connect people people with a God who makes exlusive claims like, "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me?" Are we not adding to the "exclusivity" club? Can we lift up one claim without putting down the others?

Absolutely Not!

This week I was introduced to the story of a young man named William. Raised in a Christian home that was deeply reflective and intellectually stimulating, with parents who had academic and pastoral ministries, William had become deeply alienated with the Christian faith during his university years. Now, while in law school, he states, “I’ve decided that I am a theist. I’ve concluded that autonomy is not all it’s cracked up to be. I no longer believe that I am totally in control of my life. There is a higher power—God—with whom I must be in relation.” Unfortunately, he followed up that statement with “This doesn’t mean that I’m reading the Bible on any regular basis, though.” The reason given by William for his lack of desire to study the Bible—every time he opened it, he bumped up against the absolute. To quote him again, “Actually, it’s more that the absolute punches me in the face whenever I read this book.”

What is our response to the absolute statements made by God and the Scriptures? Does that help or hinder us as we navigate the troubled waters of faith? For me personally, I can’t imagine being on any journey without knowing where true North was at all times. Neither can I imagine navigating this journey of faith without some absolute directives by God.  

: stormy waters

It’s official. It’s a hit. The movie adaptation of C.S. Lewis’s classic tale The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe has received nearly universal praise from both movie goers and professional movie critics alike. What most people do not recognize is the time and circumstances of his life while writing his classic children’s tale. George Sayer, Lewis’s biographer, explains:”[Lewis] would have to leave his writing to care for his terminally ill lady friend Janie Moore. She would call him often to care for her needs even though there were a maid and a nurse in the house. Added to that challenge was his brother’s alcoholism and crushing financial obligations.”

In the midst of those circumstances, Lewis writes what Sayer calls, “books full of laughter that breathes forth joy.” He goes on to suggest that the brilliance of the Narnia series was not achieved in spite of being written under such stress, but because it was written in a situation of human suffering.

That raises an interesting question for our faith journey: What role does suffering play in deepening and/or dividing us from faith. Is it possible that a life with no difficulty can result in us being overly comfortable, complacent and/or apathetic in our faith?

: Have a Hypocritical Holiday

A friend of mine sent me an email today humorously bemoaning the fact that he could no longer say “Merry Christmas” around his office and co-workers. It is not politically correct to say “Christmas” or even “Happy Holidays” anymore. “Holidays” has its etymology in “holiness” and therefore can not be said. He had to settle for “Happy December” or “Happy Winter.”

The Catholic League and the extreme religious right have been up in arms this year about the extent of the political correctness this holiday (oops, winter) season. Even some Evangelicals have fallen into this trap. Isn’t it hypocritical to bemoan the commercialization of Christmas while we accede to the commercialization in just about every other area of our lives?"

: Doubters Anonymous

It’s an age old question and an even older frustration. It is expressed like this: “Do you ever wonder why it seems that bad folks win and good folks finish second (at best)? It was expressed in recent posts to this blog in terms like this: “Does it really pay to pursue God if we have doubts about eternal life and reward?” I’ve heard it said this way as well: “Wouldn’t the reign of God fare better if there were clearer demarcations in the benefits between those with faith and those without it?

We’ve probably all experienced the Bible-Billy response— “We just need to trust God about these things,”— to which we often feel like responding, “Oh blow it out your ear. I’m not certain that God gives a rip about us.” I want to suggest that the best we may have to offer at times in our journey is to cling to a faith-based doubt.

Hello, my name is David and I’m a doubter. Anyone with thoughts about what it means to be a faith-based doubter? Is it compatible with true Christ-followership?

: walking the gangplank

Every journey—including the journey upon which we BSSers have embarked—begins with initiative, lots of risk, and a leap of some kind. Consider early water transport. Boats were made of bundles of reeds, logs that were lashed together, animal skins stretched across timbers, even large pot-like structures. Regardless of what material the ship is made of, you can’t “board” any ship without taking risks—either a jump from land to ship across an expanse of water, or gingerly negotiating some sort of narrow ramp known as a gangplank.

It was Martin Luther who said of faith, “the person who doesn’t have faith is like someone who has to cross the sea, but is so frightened that he does not trust the ship. And so he stays where he is, and is never saved, because he will not get on board and cross over.” The test of faith is getting on board. Once we are aboard, our authentic pursuit of the Creator, our honest intellectual investigation of this Intelligent Designer will be rewarded. God says: “If you look for me in earnest, you will find me when you seek me.” Jeremiah 29:13
Are you on board?