Wednesday, February 25, 2009
autopsy
Proverbs 2 says:
"My son, if you accept my words
and store up my commands within you,
2 turning your ear to wisdom
and applying your heart to understanding,
3 and if you call out for insight
and cry aloud for understanding,
4 and if you look for it as for silver
and search for it as for hidden treasure,
5 then you will understand the fear of the LORD
and find the knowledge of God.
6 For the LORD gives wisdom,
and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding."
I got in a minor car accident last week. I hit my head so I wanted to make sure I didn't have a concussion so I checked myself into the ER. While I was sitting there on the hospital bed, my mind began to wander and I wrote this.
autopsy
hush, now.
we creep along in the dead of night
the moon scowling at our mischief
or perhaps we only imagine
its suspicious disdain
stealthily, secretly
we grasp and pull
your broken body from the tree
carry you deftly
and importantly
away, away
from familiar claws
that we might perform
your autopsy.
she reasons and interprets
with methodical glee
at the moment of your expiration
when you breathed your last
that the confusion and the loss
bellowed deeply from the bowels of hell
as a cry for the scarred and the lost
and the abused
and a rousing wail
against the plastic
and the whitewashed
and the unchanged
i think she's right.
but upon her life
you leave no so much mark
only a philosopher's kiss
hollow and rational
and reasonable
which stales the air
and dwindles passion
silently divorcing
her heart from her head
i watch her
hearken in her own illusion
of you but in part
and never in whole
i see your image
torn asunder
a mass of throbbing, pulsing
flesh and veins and bones
disembodied
in cold calculation
and i find
as i diagnose
her pitiable, blinded state
and mine
that we have quite dissected
the wrong Being.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
asking "why"?
At small group, we’ve been going through (alongside the Book of Job) a book entitled “Disappointment With God” by Philip Yancey, author of “What’s So Amazing About Grace?” and “The Jesus I Never Knew.” The book deals with three main questions: “Is God unfair?” “Is God hidden?” and “Is God silent?”
While we were discussing the chapters last night, I found myself verbally processing out loud and said something that confused everyone, including myself:/ So eventually one of our leaders suggested I email everyone to explain it. While thinking this through, I wrote out this email, which I’ve decided to post here (most of it anyway) for your viewing pleasure—or viewing frustration.:
Basically, what I was trying to say is that at its core, the human tendency to question the actions of God and ask "why?" ultimately boils down to a questioning of His motives and of His nature. Is God motivated by love or are His actions (or inactions) proof of His un-love? Or put it another way: Is God truly all-powerful AND all-loving?
We may ask "why?" to tempt God into explaining in such a manner "Well, if such-and-such didn't happen in your life than this-or-that wouldn't have happened, allowing you to become this or do that."
Just think back on your own life. If you hadn't attended college here or moved to this state, then you would never have met so-and-so or had the opportunity to do whatever and--"oh thanks God, now I get it!" We all long for that epiphany, that moment of clarity and revelation. That was the million possible varieties of answers that I was referring to. The concrete, historical, logical reasons which allow us to connect the dots to explain our circumstances... The answer to "why" is the answer that we think we need to understand everything.
In the instance of Job, let's say God really did explain Himself to Job--thereby explaining Himself to us. He said, "Well, you see, Job you were the center of this debate between Satan and Myself, and I decided to go all in, banking on your ever-faithful response." Even with this answer--the Job could still question God beyond this and say "Well, why?" There can only be one of two answers to this final "why": love or un-love. There really can't be any middle ground here.
And the answer--as the cross testifies--is still unmistakably love. Love because God endorses free will, love because He grants us this "dignity of causation," love because redemption is the heart of God's design for humanity.
This is why I love how Philip Yancey proposes that the question "why?" becomes transformed into "what end?" The question we ask really should not be "why?" because at this point, the millions of questions funnel down to an infinitely simpler question "what end?" The end, as Yancey says, is redemption and Re-creation.
Playing the devil's advocate here (pun intended), let's just posit the opposite motive of God in answering His question. Imagine Him responding this time: "Well, you see, Job you were the center of this debate between Satan and Myself, and I decided to go all in, banking on your ever-faithful response." Again, Job responds, "Why?" God answers simply: "Un-love." We can then imagine this unloving God to say all sorts of things to explain His answer: "Because I'm an all-powerful sadistic God that has no concern for your welfare or soul" or "I have bigger things to worry about" or "Because I could and I felt like it."
Imagine if God admitted to that. To un-love. The debate on the problem of pain ends there. We can now effectively blame all suffering on the inaction of an all-powerful but indifferent God. And of course, like a tyrannical dictator, that kind of God is not worth following.
This is why I believe what Philip calls the theological kryptonite, the question of the problem of pain. To reiterate, the problem of pain is the question of the existence of a God that is both all-powerful and all-loving. The common argument is that "If God has the power to stop bad things from happening, but He chooses not to, then He might be all-powerful, but He's not all-loving. On the other hand, if God does attempt to stop bad things from happening out of love, then He might be all-loving, but He's not all-powerful. If the choice is one or the other, He's a God not worth following. And either way, the all-loving, all-powerful God of the Bible cannot exist."
That is a formidable argument. Is God truly all-powerful and all-loving? Our whole concept of God--His nature, His attributes--proceeds from the answer to that question. I am not going to even attempt an address on that debate because there's no way I could ever completely answer that question, but let me say that ultimately, this is place where all roads of questioning "why" lead. Not to say that once we reach this hub, that it doesn't spin us off into a thousand other directions, but all questions to God of "why" feed through here--an "all roads lead to Rome" type thing.
And yes, Jeanne was right I think.... I'm not proposing that if we truly grasp--as far as limited human beings can--that God is loving, the questions all dissolve. Not at all. After all, as one of you pointed out, Job never did get his answer, as far as we know. As growing, maturing Christians, that's where all of us become entrenched from time to time, as life hits us with seasons of hardship and disappointment. It's natural to ask "why" and to plead for God to provide that epiphany, that moment of understanding so everything would make sense, at least for the time being. And of course it's unbelievably frustrating when He doesn't.
I'm just proposing that every time we ask God "why?", that line of questioning ultimately brings us back to one place and one place alone: asking God if He loves or not, as it relates to any given circumstance.
But as Yancey said in the last chapter, in Christ, the "why" transforms into "what end." And while that might not be enough to satisfy our curiosity, the person of Christ--particularly what He accomplished through suffering--effectively gives us reason, vision and hope enough to eventually move forward through cynicism and doubt and onto an redemptive outlook on life...much like Peggie's ability of "endurance", beyond the ability "to bear things, but to turn them into glory."
Monday, November 5, 2007
killing God?
Okay, so now that the film The Golden Compass is coming out, many film critics, conservative Christians and
Thankfully, The Golden Compass film has eliminated any anti-church, anti-God sentiments and instead portrays the conflict as being merely anti-power-hungry-religion organizations. I can deal with that. I am actually hoping the films do a great job of telling the story of Lyra and Will without all of that atheistic crap that was in the book.
That said, this film is probably doomed to fail, mostly because although it will be fairly innocuous on the big screen (pleasing conservative Christians, while angering devout atheists and Pullman fans), the film will undoubtedly spark interest in the book (angering conservative Christians and pleasing devout atheists and
And all of this would undoubtedly perturb Michael Scott, and his preference for win/win/win scenarios, sans compromise;)
Ultimately, I predict the film version will probably only satisfy two camps of people: 1) people like me, who appreciated the compelling storyline, prose and characters in the books, but found the atheistic element forced and contrived and will be glad to see it go … and 2) people who know nothing about the book and just came into watch the film because the trailer looked interesting.
The element I find most fascinating in the critique of the books is that this idea of “killing God.” I think many people are hearing the idea of a young girl “killing God” and associating it with the film, and immediately label it as unsuitable, heretical, dangerous, etc.
I am more interested in
To take offense at Lyra supposedly “killing God,” one would first have to examine the book and see how God is portrayed in the novels. Is it the Judeo-Christian God, YHWH, Creator, all-powerful, all-loving God that we see in Scripture and in history? Or is it a false God that is merely after power, with no love or regard for humanity?
Having read the entire trilogy, I can say with a definite assurance that the Judeo-Christian, all-loving, all-powerful God is NOT the God portrayed in
My God cannot be killed. And if He were anything less than what He is, He would not be God. If He were mortal, He would not be God.
So tar and feather me if you may, but I have no problem with Lyra killing this “God” who in fact is not God at all, but merely a god. The god Lyra destroys is finite, non-eternal and non-loving. The “God” in
I honestly think
The God I know and worship and serve and believe in looks nothing like this “God” portrayed in
That said, there is a dangerous element to his novels, mainly because the books have been widely read and accepted by children. As a liberal arts major with a penchant for literary critique and analysis, I have the luxury of sitting back and blithely enjoying the trilogy (even if the books’ moral and metaphysical conclusion is a bit self-indulgent and contrived) because I can filter. However, if kids are going to be reading these books, I can see kids mistaking “God” for God, and swallowing
And as far as the “anti-church” sentiment plays through the novels, I believe that the true Church—the remnant—has never been about gaining power and ruining people’s lives through ambition and greed. Historically, that undoubtedly has occurred (Spanish Inquistion, the pre-Reformation Catholic Church with indulgences and simony, the Crusades, etc.) but such an abuse of power is a corruption of the true nature of the Church. Or what my friend David calls the drawing the line between the true Church and the “apparent church.”
This is where I believe
The funny thing about the book is that despite heavy references to Adam and Eve and the Garden and Eden,
But to me, Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross—while it may not conclusively prove the existence of God—it proves at least the converse side of the argument. In other words, the cross proves that merely citing evil and suffering in this world is not a sufficient argument for proving that God does not exist. And more than that, Christ himself entered into our suffering. You can rail against God all you want, but in Christ, He offers us the ultimate picture of sacrificial love as an offensive strike against suffering and evil, and He’s proven His suffiency in doing so.
No other religion claims that God has suffered on behalf of humanity. None. That is one of the most compelling distinctions about the Christian faith from all other religions…You have to deal with the truth of the cross and the mystery of Christ. Period.
If anything, I think
I think this trilogy ultimately represents in our culture today two worldviews at work and what can truly happen when they’re rubbed up against one another.