I've been thinking a lot about creation stories lately, mostly due to conversations I've had with Mom lately. She teaches fourth grade at a large private school in the metro Atlanta area, and lately they've been talking a lot about evolution vs. creation. Actually, one of her fellow teachers has been devouring information from groups like the Apologetics Press and decided to spearhead an effort to debunk evolution. The middle school and high school chose not to participate in the workshop, but the elementary school kids will be getting a full dose of creationist polemics.
I think this is a pretty bad idea. Mom agrees, but she can't voice her disagreement at school. Several years ago, a few teachers were let go because they believed in evolution, and everyone's been skirting the issue since. There's an eerie silence among the teachers - they must all take their classes to the workshop, but they are obviously unenthused about it. This week, they watched a video preview of the workshop during their teacher workday. Apparently, it was mostly full of anecdotal "evidence" against evolution and unconvincing logical arguments. One of the arguments went something like, "If the creation story is not taken as a literal 6 day event then the reliability of the whole Bible is called into question, allowing room for all kinds of immorality and faithlessness, and Christianity falls to pieces." The speaker on the video went on to link all the things that are wrong with contemporary society with belief in the theory of evolution.
Now, I don't mind someone holding or sharing honest doubts about evolution. I'd probably have a few too, if I actually took some time to study up on it. Biology isn't my area of expertise or interest; my frustration with the apologetics material is more along the lines of theology, biblical interpretation, and Christian discipleship. Is it really beneficial to make such an egregious overstatement about the importance of the literal interpretation of Genesis 1 and 2? Does the truth of the Bible, of the Christian faith really hinge on this? Placing the blame for all the evils of society on the theory of evolution makes about as much sense as using The DaVinci Code as a history textbook. I don't think that the best way to teach people, young or old, to follow Jesus is by loading them up with arguments and strategies for aggressively confronting people who don't believe.
Here's something that I think creationists are right about: the creation story matters. Stories of origin have an impact on how we see the world and our place in it. I think it's important for Christians to continue asserting that God is Creator and that God created human beings, both male and female, in God's image. The way the creation story describes God the Creator matters, too. It is not an option to simply scrap the opening chapters of the Bible (or any part of the Scriptures for that matter!) and accept whatever theory of origins is in vogue for the time being. However, I don't think that a literal interpretation is the only faithful option for Christians. More to come on this topic in the future...
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
05 January 2007
03 January 2007
At the same worship service as mentioned in my previous post, I got to spend a brief moment talking with Ike Reeser. Ike is the children's minister at Northlake, and he's played a special role in my spiritual formation, well beyond my years in the children's ministry. Worship had been, as I've mentioned, refreshing and discouraging all at once. Ike enhanced the refreshment.
Ike asked me the "What's next?" question. Now, sometimes this question functions as a glorified "How are you?" - a sort of polite greeting/conversation starter. But not with Ike. I responded the way I usually do - with uncertainty - and he offered some words that were blessedly reorienting. It was something like, "We worry a lot about discerning God's will for our lives, but maybe it's better to seek God's will for the world and find a way to fit into that."
This is not a landmark statement, of course. I've heard it before, from more than one person. I've repeated it to myself and even heard myself say it to others. But isn't that the way good news is sometimes? You've heard it before, maybe all your life, but somehow repetition is not wearisome, but rather it spurs you on, reaping the fruit of seeds sown long ago. Through the gentle words of a friend, you again hear the summons of God. That is a beautiful thing.
It's as if God gently whispered in my ear, "I love you, child, but you're not at the center of my plans for the world. You can be a participant in my plans - partnership is the way I like to work! But if you want to seek my will, you're going to have to get over yourself." An invitation to stop obsessing over myself: what liberating, welcome news!
Incidentally, that leads me to think about making some "A Few Days After New Year's" Resolutions involving ascetical disciplines...
Ike asked me the "What's next?" question. Now, sometimes this question functions as a glorified "How are you?" - a sort of polite greeting/conversation starter. But not with Ike. I responded the way I usually do - with uncertainty - and he offered some words that were blessedly reorienting. It was something like, "We worry a lot about discerning God's will for our lives, but maybe it's better to seek God's will for the world and find a way to fit into that."
This is not a landmark statement, of course. I've heard it before, from more than one person. I've repeated it to myself and even heard myself say it to others. But isn't that the way good news is sometimes? You've heard it before, maybe all your life, but somehow repetition is not wearisome, but rather it spurs you on, reaping the fruit of seeds sown long ago. Through the gentle words of a friend, you again hear the summons of God. That is a beautiful thing.
It's as if God gently whispered in my ear, "I love you, child, but you're not at the center of my plans for the world. You can be a participant in my plans - partnership is the way I like to work! But if you want to seek my will, you're going to have to get over yourself." An invitation to stop obsessing over myself: what liberating, welcome news!
Incidentally, that leads me to think about making some "A Few Days After New Year's" Resolutions involving ascetical disciplines...
28 June 2006
starry night
Tonight, after bidding my roommate sweet dreams, I drag an old blanket and pillow out to the boat ramp and creat a little pallet for myself under the stars. A cool eastern wind blows full in my face, chasing and snuffing the final glimmers of light on the western horizon. My toes hang off the end of my blanket and meet the rough concrete, the warmth of the day's light still captured in its stony clutches. The contrast of the lingering warmth and the fresh, cool wind is delicious! The longer I lay there, the more stars appear, almost like a re-enactment of the day the Lord beckoned them into existence with his creative "let there be." I listen closely, almost expecting a faint "it is good" to rise with the next gentle breeze. I don't hear it in audible words, but the symphony of crickets, rustling of dry grasses, lapping of water, and my own inexplicable feeling of awe is enough to make it just as real. It's as if all creation gives a constant echoing cry, "It is good indeed!" And I'm all caught up in it, too! Right there, in that moment, I feel like the purest praise, the highest contemplation I could ever offer is to soak in, with all my senses, the goodness of God in that one instant.
As I lay under the stars, my mind eventually wanders to a brief conversation I had at lunch with a cousin of mine. We were discussing world religions, and how they all have something to offer to the bigger picture of reality. My cousin feels certain that if he studies each religion, he'll be able to select the parts that he thinks are closest to the truth. I'm not nearly as confident about my ability to recognize truth when I see it! I'm afraid my "end product" would end up looking very much like "the world the way Kelli wants it to be" rather than as it really is.
We didn't get very far into this discussion before the tide of conversation changed, but it really stuck with me. (One of my habits, for better or for worse, is continuing to hold conversations in my head long after they're concluded.) Eventually, this internal "conversation" merged with another one - one I've been having with the Gospel of John. In the first several chapters (in much of the book really, but I'm just to chapter 6 right now), John takes pains to drive home the special relationship between Jesus and the Father. Jesus is the creative Word present in the beginning, and he has been sent to dwell among humankind. The Word became flesh and pitched his tent among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as the One and Only from the Father, full of grace and truth. ... No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only being in the bosom of the Father made [him] known (1:14, 18). Over and over, John emphasizes the unique role of the One and Only Son as the one who mediates what he has seen at the side of God to the rest of us who are bound by "earth-vision."
Tonight as I sat looking up at the night sky, I wondered what it would be like if that was it - if all I knew of God is what I could gather by staring open-eyed at the world around me. Even in the presence of other reflective folks, I'm not very sure that we could come up with a good idea of what this world is like or what it means to exist at all. Perhaps we could find a little insight into who God is - I think God put it out there in creation to be found by everyone - but it feels to me like trying to describe something that keeps sneaking past the corner of my eye. I know I've seen something, I may even be certain it's there, but it's too slippery to describe fully. Yet, if Jesus is who he says he is, who John clearly believed he is, then God is no longer this shadowy figure in our corner eye. God is revealed in some significant, radical way in the person of Jesus Christ! I know I'm biased, since I've already decided that the Way of Jesus is the only way for me, but I'm re-convinced about the uniqueness of Jesus Christ - worlds apart from the teachings of those who, like me, can only "speak from the earth."
As I lay under the stars, my mind eventually wanders to a brief conversation I had at lunch with a cousin of mine. We were discussing world religions, and how they all have something to offer to the bigger picture of reality. My cousin feels certain that if he studies each religion, he'll be able to select the parts that he thinks are closest to the truth. I'm not nearly as confident about my ability to recognize truth when I see it! I'm afraid my "end product" would end up looking very much like "the world the way Kelli wants it to be" rather than as it really is.
We didn't get very far into this discussion before the tide of conversation changed, but it really stuck with me. (One of my habits, for better or for worse, is continuing to hold conversations in my head long after they're concluded.) Eventually, this internal "conversation" merged with another one - one I've been having with the Gospel of John. In the first several chapters (in much of the book really, but I'm just to chapter 6 right now), John takes pains to drive home the special relationship between Jesus and the Father. Jesus is the creative Word present in the beginning, and he has been sent to dwell among humankind. The Word became flesh and pitched his tent among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as the One and Only from the Father, full of grace and truth. ... No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only being in the bosom of the Father made [him] known (1:14, 18). Over and over, John emphasizes the unique role of the One and Only Son as the one who mediates what he has seen at the side of God to the rest of us who are bound by "earth-vision."
Tonight as I sat looking up at the night sky, I wondered what it would be like if that was it - if all I knew of God is what I could gather by staring open-eyed at the world around me. Even in the presence of other reflective folks, I'm not very sure that we could come up with a good idea of what this world is like or what it means to exist at all. Perhaps we could find a little insight into who God is - I think God put it out there in creation to be found by everyone - but it feels to me like trying to describe something that keeps sneaking past the corner of my eye. I know I've seen something, I may even be certain it's there, but it's too slippery to describe fully. Yet, if Jesus is who he says he is, who John clearly believed he is, then God is no longer this shadowy figure in our corner eye. God is revealed in some significant, radical way in the person of Jesus Christ! I know I'm biased, since I've already decided that the Way of Jesus is the only way for me, but I'm re-convinced about the uniqueness of Jesus Christ - worlds apart from the teachings of those who, like me, can only "speak from the earth."
28 January 2006
Isaiah 40
A sign that you're on a one-way ticket to Nerdland: you chose to spend Friday afternoons chuckling over Hebrew idioms and puzzling over odd ancient word choices with a handful of other like-minded individuals. (Then you blog about it.) But, there are benefits to what might sound like self-torture, especially when you're reading Isaiah 40. Here are some movements and images that I found really poignant this week:
This passage demonstrates the insignificance of all things earthly in comparison to the Lord, whose Word endures forever. The heavens, mountains, seas, forests, the nations and their most powerful rulers - all these can't begin to measure up. Before the majesty of the Lord, these are like grass that whithers away.
Anyone remember that children's song "My God Is So Big"? Well, it sounds a lot like Isaiah's singing his own version here (complete with hand motions). In fact, I keep thinking that it sounds a lot like a string of object lessons that a Sunday school teacher might use. Imagine water cupped in the palm of your hand. It's not much. That's what the seas are like to the Lord. Picture an athlete palming a basketball. In the same way, the Lord "palms" the cosmos - it's merely the span of his hand. Remember the last time you baked and added a third of a cup of something? Well, all the dust of the earth is like a third of a cup to the Lord. (Not even a whole - just a third.) Picture the Rockies and their foothills... now add the Andes, the Himalayas, the Alps, the Appalachians (my favorite)... the Lord weighs the mountains and hills of the earth on scales. The nations are even less - they're like a little bit of dust on the balances, or like a little speck or residue in the bottom of a bucket. The Lord spreads the heavens out like a veil and pitches them like a tent. Ever flown in a plane and watched the horizon stretch out and curve away out of sight? The Lord perches up there on the horizon, and from his lofty vantage point, the peoples of the earth are like grasshoppers. Their mighty rulers are nothing; the Lord blows them away like chaff in a whirlwind.
Over and over, the Lord asks, "To whom will you compare me? What am I like?" In the midst of vivid images demonstrating how incomparable the Lord is, brief interludes display the utter ignorance of humankind in regards to the divine. First comes a reference to the idol makers - they take a chunk of wood, carve it, beat out gold and plate it, and then worship it! How dumb can you get? Even those whom God chose as his people can't seem to get it. Israel looks around and complains that her way is hidden from the Lord and that he overlooks the injustice done to her. Not so, the author counters. The Lord's understanding is unsearchable and nothing escapes his notice.
Maybe you'd expect One whose understanding is unsearchable to be a bit aloof, to say the least. It seesm that Israel might have made the same assumption. Reading parts of this passage makes me think the Lord must be unapproachable. In the middle of a string of passages that are trying to blow your mind with "the Lord's not like this or that" or "my God is bigger than...," there's one passage that says what the Lord is like. It's not what you might expect to find. "Here is our God":
Mighty, unfathomable, sovereign, glorious... the Lord is all those things, but much more. The Lord murmurs, "Comfort," to his exiled people. He sends good news in times of utter despair. He infuses the weak and weary who trust in him with strength. But verse 11, is the one that really speaks to me. It makes me say, "If that's what this Lord is like, then sign me up."
This passage demonstrates the insignificance of all things earthly in comparison to the Lord, whose Word endures forever. The heavens, mountains, seas, forests, the nations and their most powerful rulers - all these can't begin to measure up. Before the majesty of the Lord, these are like grass that whithers away.
Anyone remember that children's song "My God Is So Big"? Well, it sounds a lot like Isaiah's singing his own version here (complete with hand motions). In fact, I keep thinking that it sounds a lot like a string of object lessons that a Sunday school teacher might use. Imagine water cupped in the palm of your hand. It's not much. That's what the seas are like to the Lord. Picture an athlete palming a basketball. In the same way, the Lord "palms" the cosmos - it's merely the span of his hand. Remember the last time you baked and added a third of a cup of something? Well, all the dust of the earth is like a third of a cup to the Lord. (Not even a whole - just a third.) Picture the Rockies and their foothills... now add the Andes, the Himalayas, the Alps, the Appalachians (my favorite)... the Lord weighs the mountains and hills of the earth on scales. The nations are even less - they're like a little bit of dust on the balances, or like a little speck or residue in the bottom of a bucket. The Lord spreads the heavens out like a veil and pitches them like a tent. Ever flown in a plane and watched the horizon stretch out and curve away out of sight? The Lord perches up there on the horizon, and from his lofty vantage point, the peoples of the earth are like grasshoppers. Their mighty rulers are nothing; the Lord blows them away like chaff in a whirlwind.
Over and over, the Lord asks, "To whom will you compare me? What am I like?" In the midst of vivid images demonstrating how incomparable the Lord is, brief interludes display the utter ignorance of humankind in regards to the divine. First comes a reference to the idol makers - they take a chunk of wood, carve it, beat out gold and plate it, and then worship it! How dumb can you get? Even those whom God chose as his people can't seem to get it. Israel looks around and complains that her way is hidden from the Lord and that he overlooks the injustice done to her. Not so, the author counters. The Lord's understanding is unsearchable and nothing escapes his notice.
Maybe you'd expect One whose understanding is unsearchable to be a bit aloof, to say the least. It seesm that Israel might have made the same assumption. Reading parts of this passage makes me think the Lord must be unapproachable. In the middle of a string of passages that are trying to blow your mind with "the Lord's not like this or that" or "my God is bigger than...," there's one passage that says what the Lord is like. It's not what you might expect to find. "Here is our God":
He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have
young. (v. 11)
Mighty, unfathomable, sovereign, glorious... the Lord is all those things, but much more. The Lord murmurs, "Comfort," to his exiled people. He sends good news in times of utter despair. He infuses the weak and weary who trust in him with strength. But verse 11, is the one that really speaks to me. It makes me say, "If that's what this Lord is like, then sign me up."
28 July 2005
Deception
On Wednesday nights we've been watching a series of videos put out by Nooma. If you aren't familiar with Nooma, check out their website: http://www.nooma.com. I've really enjoyed some of their video clips this summer - they're worth checking out. Anyway, tonight we talked about how God doesn't always give us what we want when we want it. A typical youth group subject, I know. Isn't it amazing how it's often those things that we've heard over and over that we most need to hear fresh?
I was supposed to lead the discussion after the video tonight. I was tempted just to do the usual thing: look at the suggested questions, pick a few that I liked, and let the kids break into groups to discuss them. Instead, I decided that I ought to "go the distance" and really spend some time thinking about things. (I'm sure this has happened to others out there: when I teach a class, I usually think I'm the one who leaves the room most changed.)
At first, I was quite prideful. Some of the questions asked about things we think we want or need. I thought to myself, "No, I'm quite happy with everything that I have; there aren't any material things that I want!" (Pat, pat on the back for Kelli.) Yes, I was feeling quite self-satisfied. Truthfully, I was dodging the question at first; then I started to consider what things I pray for most often. I realized that I'm desperate for approval, affirmation, and partnership. I don't want to feel like I'm all alone in this life. I also want people to think that I'm absolutely brilliant, and we all know what a joke that is. Most of my deepest desires center around the perception others have of me, with only lip-service to the One who created me.
I started thinking about the opening chapters of Genesis. Why on earth would two people who live in paradise - where God fulfills their every need and walks with them in the cool of the day - why would they feel like something is lacking? The snake deceives them into believing that God was holding back on them, not giving them something that would enhance their existence. Maybe they hadn't heard God proclaim that his crowning act of creation is, "Very good!" Apparently, it wasn't too hard to convince them that "very good" just wasn't good enough.
Their temptation is mine every day: to buy into the lie that God is holding back something that I think ought to be mine now. I'm just as easily deceived as they were. We live in a culture that thrives on convincing people that they need more and more to make them whole and happy. Even though we should be the last to believe such things, the church is often right there alongside the rest of our culture, chasing after things that are fleeting and calling them "blessings." Let's remind each other that God isn't holding back on us; he's the Giver of every perfect gift and his sense of timing is far superior to ours.
I was supposed to lead the discussion after the video tonight. I was tempted just to do the usual thing: look at the suggested questions, pick a few that I liked, and let the kids break into groups to discuss them. Instead, I decided that I ought to "go the distance" and really spend some time thinking about things. (I'm sure this has happened to others out there: when I teach a class, I usually think I'm the one who leaves the room most changed.)
At first, I was quite prideful. Some of the questions asked about things we think we want or need. I thought to myself, "No, I'm quite happy with everything that I have; there aren't any material things that I want!" (Pat, pat on the back for Kelli.) Yes, I was feeling quite self-satisfied. Truthfully, I was dodging the question at first; then I started to consider what things I pray for most often. I realized that I'm desperate for approval, affirmation, and partnership. I don't want to feel like I'm all alone in this life. I also want people to think that I'm absolutely brilliant, and we all know what a joke that is. Most of my deepest desires center around the perception others have of me, with only lip-service to the One who created me.
I started thinking about the opening chapters of Genesis. Why on earth would two people who live in paradise - where God fulfills their every need and walks with them in the cool of the day - why would they feel like something is lacking? The snake deceives them into believing that God was holding back on them, not giving them something that would enhance their existence. Maybe they hadn't heard God proclaim that his crowning act of creation is, "Very good!" Apparently, it wasn't too hard to convince them that "very good" just wasn't good enough.
Their temptation is mine every day: to buy into the lie that God is holding back something that I think ought to be mine now. I'm just as easily deceived as they were. We live in a culture that thrives on convincing people that they need more and more to make them whole and happy. Even though we should be the last to believe such things, the church is often right there alongside the rest of our culture, chasing after things that are fleeting and calling them "blessings." Let's remind each other that God isn't holding back on us; he's the Giver of every perfect gift and his sense of timing is far superior to ours.
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