Self-Importance Strikes Again

The text for my Friday morning bible study this week was 1 Peter 2:13-25. We discussed what it meant to suffer unjustly, turn the other cheek, etc. and had a difficult time identifying examples of what that would look like in practice. As we closed in prayer, the Holy Spirit pointed out to me that 1 Peter 2:18 instructs me to submit myself (as a wage-slave) to my master (employer), and I missed an opportunity to bring Him glory by obeying that instruction.

Wednesday night, someone mentioned in an email thread that I had committed to resolving an issue that night (after work hours). I had not, in fact, agreed to any such thing. My reply was “Err… nobody ever asked if I could do this tonight, but I will arrange to do so. In the future, it would be nice if I were asked before a commitment is made on my behalf so that if I’m completely unavailable for some reason, we can make other arrangements.”

My reply wasn’t so terrible from a human perspective, but this was a clear opportunity for me to put 1 Peter 2:18 into practice, and I blew it. I grumbled, drew attention to the fact that I was not being treated fairly, and essentially whined that I wasn’t being treated justly. This wasn’t a case where work was coming into conflict with family responsibilities, and I didn’t have an internal debate as to whether I should do the work; the only debate was whether I whined about doing it, or just did it, and I made the wrong decision.


Bringing God Glory by Wanting to Bring God Glory

As I thought more about the challenge to be more like Jesus, and considered the practical application of the desire to bring God glory, it was urgently impressed upon me that the key to bringing Him glory is to nurture the desire to bring Him glory. The desire that God in all things may be glorified (1 Peter 4:11) is both a prerequisite for, and the beginning of, doing so.

Jesus said that “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and prove to be my disciples.” (John 15:8). Paul describes the fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5:22-23) and encourages us to increase demonstrate that fruit in order to bring glory and praise to God (Phil 1:11, Galatians 5:16, 2 Peter 1:5-7). My natural state is to desire my own glory; it is only through His grace that I can even desire to bring Him glory. It stands to reason, therefore, that the desire to bring God glory reflects His handiwork in my life, and thus brings glory to Him.

Jesus encouraged us to “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 5:16), but no matter what good works I might perform or good words I might say, if my heart isn’t in the right place, it’s pointless (1 Cor 13). C.S. Lewis, in Christian Reflections, summed it all up “For all our offerings whether of music or martyrdom, are like the intrinsically worthless present of a child, which a father values indeed, but values only for the intention.”


What if I did and said only those things that brought glory to God

As I sat at my desk Thursday afternoon, the thought flashed through my mind, “What if I did and said only those things that brought glory to God?” Not far behind that thought was the disturbing realization that I held reservations about striving towards that goal. At some level, I’m quite double-minded. I want a living, vibrant relationship with God, but I cling to selfish habits and thought patterns. I want His will, especially if it corresponds with my own. I want to bring Him glory, especially if it brings me recognition in the process.

The concepts of bringing God glory and of being wholly dedicated to Him has been the current running through all of my reading and meditation the past while, and seems to have been coming closer and closer to the surface in preparation for this question. This week, it was just blatantly obvious. I read Philippians, where Paul speaks of being poured out in service (Phil 2:17) in order that God may be glorified as (our own and others’) knees bow and tongues confess that Jesus is Lord (Phil 2:11). I contemplated Kirkegaard’s assertion that the purity of heart that allows us to see God is to will one thing, to have undivided loyalties. I read Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline, and was struck by the man who decided to think about God every minute for an entire year. I was reminded of Jesus’ words that we cannot serve two masters and that He always did those things that pleased His father (John 8:29).

Friday morning, James told me (James 4:3) I ask and do not receive because I ask with wrong motives. I’ve been asking for a deeper relationship, clearer vison of Him, and asking Him to fulfill His promise that when I turn the wrong way I’ll hear a voice behind me saying “This is the way.” When I consider my motives, however, I find that, too often, I am more interested in a fortune-teller to ensure I make no poor decisions, blessing upon my own desires, or a shortcut out of an uncomfortable situation than in real growth.

So, the challenge has been presented, the voice has called from behind me to show the way. Am I willing to be separated to Him, to take every thought captive? It is my choice, but it isn’t much of a choice, really. On the one hand, to know the right thing to do and not to do it is sin (James 4:17). On the other, Psalm 45:7, tells us that that to love righteousness and hate wickedness leads to being anointed with the oil of joy.

I’m going to say yes. I’m not sure what that means in practical terms but I know it will be an interesting journey.


Michael Crichton and the religions of environmentalism and intellectualism

My friend Andy pointed out an interesting speech by Michael Crichton today. The full text is available at http://www.crichton-official.com/speeches/speeches_quote05.html.

The core concept of Michael Crichton’s speech is supposedly that Environmentalism is a religion, and that religion is bad. He has some valid and thought-provoking points, but he falls into the very pitfall he identifies as “the greatest challenge facing mankind”; “the challenge of distinguishing reality from fantasy, truth from propaganda.” Mr. Crichton’s rant against religion effectively eclipses his call to return environmental responsibility to the realm of science. Michael Crichton rightly attacks the error of the religion of Environmentalism masquerading as science, but he does his purported cause a disservice by simultaneously attacking all religion. Crichton demonstrates the typical intellectual elitist’s failure to “recognize that their way of thinking is just one of many other possible ways of thinking, which may be equally useful or good.”

Michael Crichton states “…I don’t want to talk anybody out of a belief that Jesus Christ is the son of God who rose from the dead. But the reason I don’t want to talk anybody out of these beliefs is that I know that I can’t talk anybody out of them. These are not facts that can be argued. These are issues of faith.”
This statement that “these are not facts that can be argued” is blatantly false, and presupposes that his truth is the only truth, a failing he ascribes to religion. Either biblical account of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are historical fact, or they are not. Only if you assent to his implied assertion that they are fiction does belief become irrelevant. Crichton’s key grievance against the Environmentalists is their tendency to accept only those facts that support their faith. He takes this a step further, refusing to give opposing evidence the relevance implied in a rebuttal. His statement is equivalent to refusing to discuss Antarctic thaw because, never having seen Antarctica, he assumes that those who believe it exists are doing so based upon faith without a foundation in reality.

Substantial historical, archeological, and anthropological evidence exists for the existence of Jesus of Nazareth, his unjust execution, and his resurrection. The written record of his death and resurrection is internally consistent and is in no cases contradicted by archeological evidence. Contemporary secular authors and historians (Josephus, Tacitus, Pliny the Younger, Lucian, et al) acknowledge his existence and support much of the biblical account of his ministry and murder. The concept that there exists a natural selection of ideas also supports the veracity of the biblical record. Jesus’ disciples were not revolutionary by nature, and, by their own admission, abandoned him in his time of greatest difficulty. Under intense pressure to recant from their cultural, religious, and political leaders, with nothing to gain by falsifying their accounts, why would these early disciples sacrifice everything for a falsehood?

Michael Crichton says that “One of the defining features of religion is that your beliefs are not troubled by facts, because they have nothing to do with facts.” Based upon his disinterest in the factuality of the biblical account of Jesus, perhaps this is indeed a defining feature of his religion, but to categorically state that this is a defining feature of religion in general is intellectually dishonest. There is no canonical list of the defining characteristics of religion, and the definition of religion has been a subject of debate for centuries. Mr. Crichton once again presupposes that his Weltanschauung, and accompanying definitions, should be accepted by all of us. My religion is all about how I react to people, ideas, and information, is quite troubled by facts, and always has been. The physician and historian Luke wrote his account of Jesus so that we could know the exact truth about the things we have been taught (Luke 1:4), not just listen to a bunch of cunningly devised fables. Paul writes to the church in Corinth that if Christ has not been raised from the dead then our faith is in vain (1 Corinthians 15:14). Peter reminds us that we aren’t just following cleverly devised fables; he (and others) were eyewitnesses of the events they describe (2 Peter 1:16)

Michael Crichton goes on to state that “Most of us have had some experience interacting with religious fundamentalists, and we understand that one of the problems with fundamentalists is that they have no perspective on themselves. They never recognize that their way of thinking is just one of many other possible ways of thinking, which may be equally useful or good. On the contrary, they believe their way is the right way, everyone else is wrong; they are in the business of salvation, and they want to help you to see things the right way. They want to help you be saved. They are totally rigid and totally uninterested in opposing points of view. In our modern complex world, fundamentalism is dangerous because of its rigidity and its imperviousness to other ideas.” Once again, Mr. Crichton describes himself more accurately than those of us he intends to malign. His ranting attack on religion reveals his own lack of perspective, rigidity, and closed-mindedness.

Crichton’s statement that “We know from history that religions tend to kill people” is another example of his intellectual dishonesty. What we know from history is that people tend to kill people. We may do it in the name of the religions of nationalism, Islam, Christianity, environmentalism, science, or the worship of the “right to choose”, but those are merely a facade for our underlying selfishness and lust for power.

Crichton finishes his attack on religion masquerading as an attempt to bring reason to environmentalism by vomiting that “Religions think they know it all, but… we are dealing with incredibly complex, evolving systems, and we usually are not certain how best to proceed.” Perhaps Crichton thinks he knows it all, but my faith is based upon acknowledging that I don’t know it all. It is unfortunate that Mr. Crichton abused his platform, prestige, and undeniable talent for creating compelling fiction in this speech. Instead of seizing the opportunity to issue a clear call to bring clarity and intellectual honesty to the debate over environmental responsibility, he chose to stir up more muck. 


Looking at the wind

But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” MT 14:30

Peter was fine walking on the water until he took his eyes off Jesus and started looking at the waves… uhh… wind… Looking at the wind? Hrm…

Peter was no stranger to miracle, and had to be remembering the day (Luke 5) that he’d fished all night and caught nothing, then taken fishing advice from a rabbi-carpenter and hauled in an enormous catch. Peter was no landlubber either; endless nights toiling on the water taught him well that the wind was the source of the waves. He knew exactly how dangerous the storm was, and allowed that knowledge to literally suck him down.

Walking on water is impossible no matter who we are, but it is perhaps more difficult for the experienced sailor than for the recently enlisted. As immature disciples, we often don’t even recognize the impossible nature of the task facing us. As we mature in our own eyes, we develop a tendency to take our eyes off the master and look at the swirling wind. We evaluate the circumstances, our own abilities, whether we really heard His command clearly, whether the timing is right, and what’s next after this step. In doing so, we ensure our own failure by dwelling upon the possibility of defeat rather than upon the instrument of our victory.

Thankfully, our Lord is patient, and reaches out to catch us more often than he allows us to fall and get a mouthful of water. It is unfortunate that we allow our enemy to remind us of the times we choked on saltwater when we should instead be rejoicing in the memory of our walk on the water, however brief it might have been.