The "Something" Out There is Personal

Michio Kaku offers an interesting take on transcendence and whether or not God exists.

Interestingly enough, this famous physicist ends up basically where I left this blog yesterday.  There is a transcendent reality, but it isn't personal.

I would like to argue that this transcendent reality is indeed a personal reality, and I would like to start with a common parable--one which I have used in my sermons a couple of times--the parable of the blind men and the elephant.

This parable is about a group of blind men who stumble upon an elephant in their path.  They strive to see the elephant.  Each touches a different part of the elephant, and then they argue about the nature of that elephant.  One argues the elephant is like a spear--he touched the tusk.  One argues the elephant is like a hose--he touched the trunk.  One argues the elephant is like a wall--he touched the torso.  One argues the elephant is like a rope--he touched the tail.  One argues the elephant is like a tree trunk--he touched the leg.  And so on and so forth.  Each believed his piece of the elephant constituted the entire reality of the elephant, but they were all wrong.  In one way, they were all right, but in another, they were all wrong.

Folks like to use this analogy/parable and apply it to religions.  Most religions worship a transcendent reality, but how does one know what that reality is like?  The parable suggests no one really knows for sure--all are blind and only "see" one part.  None has the big picture.

This might be an interesting argument to talk about the nature of religions except for one small problem--the parable doesn't work unless someone knows what the whole elephant looks like to begin with.  Only an outsider who knows what the whole elephant looks like can say, "All the guys were right, and all the guys were wrong."  Therefore, if you want to use this parable to talk about religion--and how religion views God, then you either have to admit you are blind (and only have a limited knowledge of God yourself) or that you somehow see the entire elephant.  At this point, you've actually backed yourself into the proverbial corner.

Unless there is someone who has actually seen the nature of God.  Unless there is someone who has encountered the transcendence and become immanent.

Christianity is the only religion which professes such a thing to have happened.  Christianity is the only religion which claims the transcendent reality of God took on flesh and lived among us.  Christianity is the only religion which claims we don't have to work our way up to God, but God worked His way down to us.

If we as humankind are striving to work our way up to a transcendent reality, we will never make it. We will never know what kind of transcendence is out there.  It is an impossibility.  But, if that transcendent reality has made itself known...that changes everything.

Christianity claims Jesus came to reveal the true nature of God--being fully God and fully human, and this claim grounds itself in the writings of Scripture.  Jesus claimed to be God and to know God.

The claim was radical--absolutely radical--especially given the Jewish culture to which Jesus entered into. It would have done more than raise eyebrows.  It would have been cause to see Jesus as insane, dangerous, blasphemous, even evil.  We see hints of this throughout the gospel stories.

Which brings me to the crux of the argument--if the transcendent indeed became immanent in Jesus, then the stories about Jesus must be reliable.  Are they?

Another blog topic.

Why I Think There's Something Out There

Luc Ferry in his book A Brief History of Thought offers a scathing criticism of materialists and those who follow the philosopher Nietzsche's lead by saying there is no such thing as transcendence.  In a nutshell, Ferry calls them hypocrites.  No one lives as if there are no universal rules.  No one lives as if there is no transcendence.  Everyone has some sort of belief in the common good.  Everyone.

Ferry is no intellectual light weight, and his criticisms go beyond just this one.  I encourage folks to read this tome of Ferry's even though he does not cross into belief in God.  Though he finds the Christian narrative very, very appealing, Ferry wants to work out his own salvation.  This is his choice.

Yet, his argument about transcendence is very important I think.  Everyone lives as if there is a transcendent reality.  Everyone lives asking, "What should I do?"  Everyone lives as if there is a frame of ethics which supersede individuals, cultures, and nations.  C.S. Lewis did some fascinating research finding that nearly every civilized culture has some form of the Golden Rule within it.  Why?

Lewis makes his case in this fashion: if there is such a thing as natural law--a higher morality, then there must be a law giver.  Hence God exists.  While a powerful argument, it is not absolute.  Folks can argue, and they do that the discovery of such laws might be humankind's evolution and discovery of what is needed for a fully functional human society.  Evolution has produced the Golden Rule; it is not given by God.

The criticism is duly noted, but this does not make the Golden Rule transcendent.  In fact, it lessens the universality of the rule.  For if evolution decreed that the Golden Rule is necessary for civilization now, evolution could easily lead us to disperse the Golden Rule if it gets in the way of the survival of the species or our own personal survival.  After all, evolution is governed not by any transcendence which tells us what we should do, but it is governed by natural selection and genetic mutation.  The Golden Rule is necessary for survival now, but what if it becomes a hindrance in the future?  Evolution would say, discard it!!!

Those who believe in transcendence would not discard the rule so easily.  In fact, they would continue to hold onto it despite any pressure to discard it because it is a universal law.  And if Ferry is correct, even evolutionists who are convinced the Golden Rule came about by evolution would continue to hold onto it even if evolution tries to pull us away from it.  (I personally believe this is already the case, for in evolution, the weakest members of any species--sans humankind--are dispatched by nature rather quickly.  Only human beings care for their physically and mentally ill.  Only humans disrupt the natural process in this manner--including many evolutionists.)

The question in my book is: can someone claim there is no transcendence and then act as if there is?  This kind of life, in my opinion, would eventually lead to a mental break down.  There is just no integrity in it.  Perhaps this is why Nietzsche went insane when he saw a man beating a poor horse.  Perhaps he felt compassion for this animal, and yet he had absolutely nothing to fall back upon to say why this abuse was wrong.  One cannot have one's cake and eat it too.

Ferry argues in his book there is indeed transcendence although his argument and mine diverge at this point.  If you would like to read his, I again encourage you to read his thoughts.  Mine is a little less philosophical at this point and a little more realistic.  If everyone acts as if there is transcendence and has acted as if there is transcendence, then there is transcendence.  It's not scientifically air tight.  It's not measurable.  It just is.  Kind of like love.  It just is.

But how do we know that this transcendence is God?  How do we know this transcendence is personal?

Well, today's blog is long enough.  Perhaps tomorrow.

Is There Something Out There?

In a conversation with a congregation member this past Sunday, I invoked the name of Isaac Asimov.  My congregation member and I were discussing the relationship between science and faith and how there is quite a bit of arrogance on the part of both "sides" as they promote their particular points of view.

The reality, my congregation member pointed out, is "everyone has faith in something that cannot be proved."

For those who base their thought process in science, the idea everyone bases their thought processes in faith is abhorrent!  "Science is not about faith!!" they decry.  And then, in the name of science, they proclaim, "There is no evidence for God."  Their conclusion is logical.  However, I will argue, their conclusion stems from premises which are indeed faith based.  Isaac Asimov is helpful here.

Asimov, of course, was a brilliant author, biochemist and philosopher.  If you read his works, you will see that he has an incredible ability to remain logically consistent as he conveys philosophical and scientific truth.  His short stories weave these truths throughout and (hopefully) help the reader better to understand them.  In the short story "Reason" from I, Robot, the following dialogue is found as the two human characters try to deal with a "rogue" robot:

"Then, for the love of Jupiter, we've got to do something." Donovan was half in tears.  "He doesn't believe us, or the books, or his eyes."

"No," said Powell bitterly, "he's a reasoning robot--damn it.  He believes only reason, and there's one trouble with that--" his voice trailed away.

"What's that?" prompted Donovan.

"You can prove anything you want by coldly logical reason--if you pick the proper postulates.  We have ours and Cutie has his."

"Then let's get at those postulates in a hurry.  The storm's due tomorrow."

Powell signed wearily.  "That's where everything falls down.  Postulates are based on assumption and adhered to by faith.  Nothing in the Universe can shake them.  I'm going to bed."

(If one desires to deeply understand why Asimov places this in his stories, one can study and read up on Goedel's proof.)

The scientist may decry, "I have no postulates.  I have no assumptions.  I base everything upon what I can see and measure."

But what assumptions are built into the statement, "I base everything upon what I can see and measure?"

Just this: you are confined to the natural world.  You are confined to only the things you can see and measure.  Nothing more.  Using science, one cannot answer the question, "Is there anything beyond the physical universe?"  Based upon a method which requires measurement, duplication, reason, logic, and observation, one cannot come up with any absolute conclusion for what may lie beyond what can be measured, duplicated, reasoned, and observed.  One is limited.  The only thing one can do is look at the evidence provided within the physical universe and deduce whether or not something may or may not be beyond it.  One cannot arrive at any definite conclusion--at least based upon the assumptions.

If one recognizes this, then one easily sees that the statement, "God does not exist," is actually a statement of faith.  It is not a statement of science.  It is not a statement of fact.  It is not a statement of pure reason.  It is a statement based upon what one tries to deduce from looking at the evidence in the natural world and extrapolating to that which is beyond the boundaries of the natural universe. 

One may ask, "Well, what is the problem with that?"

From Richard Dawkins' book, The God Delusion:

"The human brain runs first class simulation software.  Our eyes don't present to our brains a faithful photograph of what is out there, or an accurate movie about what is going on in time.  Our brains construct [emphasis mine] a continuously updated model: updated by coded pulses chattering along the optic nerve, but constructed nevertheless."

Think about that statement long and hard.  If one's assumption is "There is nothing beyond our physical universe," then one's simulation software is set to interpret any data which comes in as supporting the assumption. 

On the other hand, if one's assumption is, "There is something beyond our physical universe," then one's simulation software is set to interpret the same data as supporting this assumption.

This is why believers and non-believers can look at the exact same evidence and come up with vastly different conclusions.  It has nothing to do with the quality of the evidence.  The evidence might be just fine--for both!!  However, it has everything to do with the assumptions governing the logic!

The cold, hard fact is that we do not know what lies beyond the bounds of our physical universe.  We will actually never know.  (Asimov is helpful here too, but I won't go there right now.)  By a statement of faith we can either say, "There is something out there." or "There is nothing out there."  Neither of these statements can be proved. They are both statements of faith.   We would do well to recognize this.

It might just help to tone down the rhetoric and settle a few court battles along the way.

At least I can dream, right?

Resting While Burdened: Sermon On "Take My Yoke"

    Have you ever noticed that we as human beings seem to be caught in a constant struggle between freedom and being burdened?  Perhaps you have.  Perhaps you’ve never thought of it in such a fashion.  Let me try to explain.

    First the freedom part.  Perhaps this is easiest to explain since we have just come through the Fourth of July holiday and our nation celebrated its independence.  There is something about the human spirit which does not like to be contained.  It does not like to be told what to do.  It does not like to have any sort of burden placed upon it.  As Elsa from the movie Frozen sings in the song “Let it Go”, “No right, no wrong.  No rules for me.  I’m free.”  We long for such freedom. 

    People who work cannot wait to be free from the responsibility of their job.  There are more than a few who are workin’ for the weekend as Loverboy once sang.  Most modern music that you hear today is all about finding a party–escaping reality–finding freedom from the daily grind.  We long for those times of vacation.  We count down the years until retirement.  We gripe about government intrusion into our lives.  We quip to others who would impose their values upon us, “What works for you, works for you, but don’t tell me how to live my life!”  We want to set our own agendas.  We want to call our own shots.  We want to have complete freedom to do so.

    And if we find ourselves overburdened.  If we find ourselves with too many rules and regulations.  If we find ourselves constrained as if someone kept pushing down on us, eventually, we will snap.  It’s like a pressure cooker.  If the pressure keeps building and building and building with no release, something bad will eventually happen.  We will fight for freedom.  Historically, this has taken place over and over and over again.  There is a part of human nature that longs for freedom.

    But here is an interesting twist to this phenomenon of freedom.  We do not want complete freedom for anyone and everyone.  We want some sort of system of rules that govern us as well.  Why?  Think about it a moment.  Even those in our culture now who believe in relativism–the idea there are no universal truths say something interesting, “Believe whatever you want to believe and do whatever you want to do–as long as you don’t hurt anyone else.”  Do you see the qualifier?  Relativists don’t believe in true relativism.  They don’t believe anything goes.  Because we know what happens when anything goes.  We know what it is like when there are no rules.  We’ve seen this happen historically over and over and over again.  When there are no rules, the strongest take over.  The strongest surge to power and authority, and they prey upon the weak; they prey upon those who do not give obedience to them; they prey upon those whom they do not like.  Various factions arise centered upon the powerful, and open warfare reigns.  Many, many innocent people get hurt.  Anarchy is not a beautiful thing. 

    We know this.  We know this deep at the bottom of our souls.  Somehow it is built into us–the need for freedom and the need for rule.  We keep swinging back and forth back and forth along this pendulum in society and in our individual lives.

    At this point, you might raise a question: Pastor, I see how this happens in society.  I see how this happens historically, but what do you mean by saying this happens in our individual lives?  Are you talking about working and wanting to be free from work like you spoke about earlier, or is it something else?

    Let me expand this point a little.  In each and every one of us, there is a desire to be free.  We don’t like having a whole lot of responsibility.  We want to enjoy living our lives in a carefree manner.  We want to be at peace.  We want to be at rest.  And being at rest means being at a place of fulfillment–a place of peace–a place of joy.  We want to be unburdened so that we can rest, and so we think about all those things that burden us.  What are the burdens in our lives?

    •    Work.
    •    School.
    •    Family.
    •    Housework.
    •    Social responsibilities including church.

    These are some of the ones we immediately think about.  The obligations we feel toward these things give us a sense of burden.  They seemingly weigh us down, and so we look to cut them off.  They do not seem to give us a sense of peace, and so we look to something else.

    •    Vacation time.
    •    Sports.
    •    Partying.
    •    Music.
    •    Television.
    •    Drinking.
    •    Sex.

    And the list could go on and on.  We believe that such things give us freedom, but you know what actually happens?  Do you know what truly happens when you start looking to all of these things for freedom?  Do you know what they start doing to you?  They begin to demand your time and energy.  They begin to demand your allegiance.  They begin to demand your heart and soul.  The things which once gave you some sense of pleasure and peace now begin to dominate your time.  They begin to consume your thoughts.  You become a slave to them.  It’s easy to see this in the lives of others.  It’s easy to see this in the alcoholic who is a slave to the alcohol.  It’s easy to see this in the pastor who devotes all his time to the church.  It’s easy to see this in the person who sits, chomping at the bit to leave work as soon as the clock hits 5 so that she can get home to watch her favorite shows.  It’s easy to see this in the person who cranks the radio up as loudly as possible without regard to what anyone else thinks.  It’s easy to see this in the person who doesn’t miss a single baseball practice or game while skipping work and other social obligations.

    The reality is, when we think we are escaping from one thing, we simply replace it with another.  Whenever we think we are free from one particular aspect in life, we are simply trading it for something else.  Never are we truly free.  We are always bound.  We are always in a constant sense of rebellion because of this.  We are always have a constant sense of unease.  We are never at rest.  We are never at peace.  We are never fulfilled.  Why? 

    It’s because we keep burdening ourselves with the wrong burdens. We keep burdening ourselves with those things which will always put demands upon us without truly giving us freedom.  So what is the answer?  Is it possible to be at rest and still be burdened at the same time?  Is it possible to be free and still have rules? 

    The answer Christianity gives is yes.  Listen to Jesus’ words from our Gospel lesson once again, “28 ‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

    How can Jesus say this?  How can Jesus say that if we take His yoke upon us–being burdened–we will be at rest?  This seems like a contradiction in terms, but it’s not.  Not at all.  In fact, when you think it through, it makes perfect sense.

    You have to remember where it all begins, though.  You have to remember that it all begins with the gospel.  You know the gospel: for God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son not to condemn the world but so that the world may be saved through Him.  And this was done not by any work you or I did.  This reconciliation was carried out by Jesus and Jesus alone–not because we were loveable or good or holy, but precisely because we were not good; we were not lovable; we were not holy.  Jesus died for us when we were still sinners.

    Think about that for just a moment.  Jesus died for you when you were still broken–when you were still breaking God’s commandments–when you were not loving your neighbor as yourself.  You were still in the midst of your sin–your disobedience, and God died for you anyway.  In just about every case in this world, if you are disobedient; if you are not following the rules, you get punished.  You do not receive a reward.  Yet, when you were not following God, He took on flesh and died for you to give you eternal life.  This is an amazing act of love–an act that is beyond comprehension–an act that many would deem foolish.  Why say that?

    Because, if you are a parent, you know doggone why it’s foolish.  If your children are misbehaving and you give them cookies, they will just keep misbehaving.  They won’t change their ways.  You’ve got to punish them to make them get in line!  But what if their behavior led to them being arrested and convicted and sentenced to death.  As a parent, what would you do?  Would you gladly take your child’s place and suffer their punishment?  Would you die so that they might live?  And if upon seeing your love for them, what do you think your children would do?  If your loving parent stepped in and died for you when you deserved death, how would you respond?  Would you keep doing the things you had always done, or would you be profoundly changed by their love?  You would, of course, be free to continue in the path you had always walked.  You could still do the destructive things you had done before.  You could still rebel against all the rules and regulations.  You would be free to do so.  Your parents had kept you from the punishment.  But at great cost.  Would you let their sacrifice go for naught?

    I hope not.  I hope that having such love shown to you would radically transform your life.  I hope it would completely change the way you operated as you realized the extent of what it cost your parents to step in and save you from your disobedience.  Not because of guilt or obligation but because of thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving for your undeserved life at their expense.  It would seem like foolishness to some, but to a parent, it would be worth it. 

    If what Jesus did for us on the cross is anything like a parent willing to die for his or her child–and I think it is–then we too can be transformed by that kind of love.  We too can be transformed by that kind of good news.  We know we are free because of what Christ did for us, but at the same time, we freely choose to be obedient to Him.  We freely choose to take His yoke upon us.  We freely say, “I will follow you and your commands, Jesus because of what you have done for me.”  At one and the same time we are obedient and we are free.  At one and the same time we are burdened and at rest.  We are no longer bound by all the things that once put demands upon us in this world.  We have freely turned to another yoke–the yoke of Jesus–the only burden that can bring us rest.  Amen.

Back to My Roots

This afternoon (July 2), I listened to that small voice inside which said, "This afternoon is family time."  Office work would wait.  Holy family time was needed.

I thought we'd go to the Houston Museum, but as we prepared to go, I remembered the kids bowl free stuff we signed up for at the beginning of summer.

"Museum or bowling?" I asked the kids

"BOWLING!!!"

It's rare we have a unanimous decision.  Bowling it was.  Brenham bowling alley, here we come.

But there was a problem.  A summer school program or camp had invaded the bowling alley.  Too crowded.  We needed an alternate plan.  We got in the car, and I simply started driving up SH 290.  As we drove, I thought about the Cotton Museum in Burton.  We'd never been.  Kaylee had studied about it in second grade.  Perhaps this would be a worthwhile activity.

It was.

Video presentation.  Cotton gin tour.  Kids getting to see how cotton was ginned with a miniature gin.  Questions asked and answered.

Then, Kevin asks, "Daddy, can we pull a cotton leaf?"

There was a reason he asked this question--a reason dating to over 20 years ago when I was working with my grandfather in the cotton field.

It was the last year my grandfather farmed before he succumbed to cancer.  We were cultivating the cotton, and it was my job to ride on the tractor, spot weeds, flag my grandfather when I saw them, jump off the tractor, and then pull the weeds putting them in a burlap bag.  Grandpa liked his cotton field absolutely clean.

During a particular stop in a weedy patch, Grandpa told me to take a water break.  When I climbed on the tractor to get a drink, Grandpa asked, "Kevin, have I ever showed you God is in the cotton?"

I was in my second year of college studying Theology/Philosophy.  I thought Grandpa was about to get philosophical on me--perhaps talk about his love of farming and how it showed him God.  I had been exposed to all sorts of ideas at Texas Lutheran, and I thought I'd hear another one.

Boy, was my assumption completely wrong.  Grandpa had other ideas.  Very concrete ones.

"Go pick me four or five big cotton leaves.  They have to be really big ones."

I did exactly as my grandfather instructed and brought the leaves to him as he sat on the tractor.  He took a leaf in his hand and pulled out his pocket knife with the other.

"Now," he spoke, "you need a really sharp knife, and you have to cut the leaf in just the right place."

I watched as he spoke these words.  Grandpa's hands shook, and he had a hard time holding the knife steady.  He made a cut, looked at his work, swore, and threw the leaf and stem to the ground.  Picking up another leaf, he spoke again, "You need a really sharp knife, and you have to cut in just the right place..."

He cut again.  Looked at his handiwork again, and this time held the remaining stem for me to observe.  Looking at the cut, which had been made right near the juncture of the stem and leaf, I observed something mind blowing.  Wonderful.  Amazing.

The veins which brought water to the leaf formed the letters G...o...D. 

It was as if God left His signature right there in the midst of that field on each and every plant--on each and every leaf.  No wonder Grandpa had a special affinity for cotton.  God was in it.

I had told this story to my kids.  I had tried to show them at one point, but the leaves were too small.  Kevin, Jr. remembered.  He wanted me to cut a leaf and show him while at the cotton gin museum.

So I asked the lady giving us the tour, Linda, if I could have a cotton plant leaf.

She replied to Kevin, Jr. "Well, ordinarily, I would let you, but if I let you, then I would have to let other people as well.  Then, our plants wouldn't have any leaves on them."

My wife rose to the challenge.  I didn't want to talk about Kevin, Jr.'s reasons.  My wife had no such inhibitors.  "Tell her why he wants the leaf."

Linda's curiosity was piqued.

"God is written in the cotton," Dawna said.  "If you cut the leaf just right, you can read the word God in the stem.  I thought he (me) was crazy when he first told me about it, but then he showed me.  It's there."

"I've never seen that!" Linda said.  "I want to see that."

She took me outside to their cotton plants which grew in wooden barrels. 

"First, you need a really big leaf, and I hope my knife is sharp enough..."

We went back inside, and I sat in a chair.  Linda talked with my kids and another couple visiting the museum.

I cut the leaf.  I put my knife where the stem met the leaf.  I hadn't done this in years.  I wondered if my knife was sharp enough.  I wondered if I was cutting in the right place.  I cut slowly and carefully.  After separating the leaf from the stem, I looked.  Kiera, my eldest was right there looking over my shoulder.  "There it is!!" she exclaimed.

Sure enough: G...o...D.

The couple from San Antonio was next.  Exclamations of amazement as well as attempts to capture what they saw on camera.  Pretty difficult to capture on a cell phone.

Linda took the stem in her hand.  Being a little older, it took her moving the stem to where she could focus.  "Wow.  I never knew..."

I didn't either until my grandfather showed me in that cotton patch many years ago.  Linda thanked me  profusely for showing her God in the cotton.  I thanked her for the tour and a walk down memory lane--memories which took me back to my roots.  Roots which include cotton hoes, mile long rows, hot sun, cold drinks, the sounds of a roaring tractor engine, an old man smoking cigarettes who took some time to show his grandson God's signature.

Amazing how it still affects me today.

No, Marcus. Jesus was God.

Because of Facebook, I was exposed to this blog post by Marcus Borg.  The content is disturbing on more than one level, not the least of which is the heresy of Arianism which he openly preaches.  It is also disturbing because there are many within my denomination who follow Dr. Borg ideologically and embrace his teaching as the doctrine to which the church should preach and teach.

Dr. Borg is an intelligent man.  He is well read and well versed in many things, but he is completely and utterly wrong in making many of his assertions in his attempt to make Christianity relevant (dare I say palatable) to a particular group of people.

Let's simply take the following assertion from his blog post:

1. Was Jesus God? No. Not even the New Testament says that. It speaks of him as the Word of God, the Son of God, the Messiah, and so forth, but never simply identifies him with or equates him with God. As John’s gospel puts it, he is the Word become flesh – that is, he reveals what can be seen of God in a finite human life. To say, “I believe Jesus was God” (as some Christians do, or think they are supposed to) goes beyond what the New Testament affirms and is thus more than biblical. He is the Word incarnate – not the disembodied Word.

Read more: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/marcusborg/2014/06/a-letter-about-jesus/#ixzz36F2KfAqf

Borg would do well to remember Christianity's assertion that Jesus is the God made flesh--God incarnate, but that's not his assertion.  Borg's assertion is that the New Testament does not speak of Jesus as God.  He is absolutely wrong on this point.  Absolutely wrong, and I go beyond the statements in the Gospel of John to state my case.

Let's take look at the book of Matthew as a frame of reference.  Most biblical scholars assert that Matthew was written by a Jewish-Christian for a Jewish-Christian audience.  This is important.  Why?

Oxford scholar Richard Bauckham has argued rather thoroughly and decisively in Jesus and the God of Israel: God Crucified and Other Studies on the New Testament's Christology of Divine Identity  that there was no middle ground for people of the Jewish faith.  God was God.  People were people.  There were no stages of holiness.  To worship anything or anyone other than God--the I am--was blasphemy and idolatry.  There are no instances, and I mean no instances of the worship of any intermediaries or "god like" people or objects.  Yet, the gospel writer Matthew includes three snippets:

And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’ --Matthew 14:33

Suddenly Jesus met them and said, ‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. --Matthew 28:9

When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. --Matthew 28:17

Remember, Jews absolutely, positively did not worship anyone or anything other than God.  Yet, they were worshiping Jesus.  Conclusion: Jesus is being shown unequivocally by Matthew to be God.

Yet, it doesn't stop there.  Matthew doubles down on the notion that Jesus is God on the Sermon on the Mount.  This is found in Matthew chapters 5 through 7.  There is a repetitive phrase spoken by Jesus over and over and over, "You have heard it said...but I say to you..."

Every time Jesus says, "You have heard it said..." He refers to Old Testament Law.  And who gave the Old Testament Law--according to Jewish tradition?  Don't think Moses.  Moses merely conveyed the Law which was given to Him by...God.  God spoke the Law.  God was the initiator of the Law, and Jesus has the audacity to say "You have heard it said...BUT I say to you..."  Jesus is giving Himself quite the high place, don't you think?  He is daring to place His teachings above God's teachings.  Any Jew would have walked away from Him in a heart beat because He dared to do this--unless that Jew believed Jesus to be God--the God made flesh--the God incarnate. 

It is vitally important to recognize that Jesus was God--and is testified as God throughout the New Testament.  Grace only works if Jesus is God.  For the doctrine of grace states that God reconciled the world unto Himself through the Son.  No human being could reconcile the world unto God--only God could.  

But the reading and listening to Borg that I have done does not center on this act of reconciliation.  Borg is consumed by what Christians are supposed to do.  For Borg, Christianity is not focused on what God has done, but is focused on what we do.  For Borg, it's all about our actions, not about grace.  

It is not surprising considering his particular bias, but what is surprising, at least in my estimation, is how many folks embrace what Borg teaches when it is contrary to the New Testament, to most Christian Scholarship, and to the entire, orthodox tradition of Christianity.  He is even lifted up and advertized in my own denomination as someone cutting edge and well worth reading.  *Sigh.*

How is it possible that a scholar who preaches false doctrine is held in such esteem?  When you figure that one out, please let me know.

"I Want My Mask!!!"

While on our cruise, I excitedly awaited our final port of call: Cozumel, Mexico.  We planned to go to the beach at Chankanaab National Park with the kids.  Knowing we could snorkel there, I bought the kids and I some cheap equipment while in Belize.

The afternoon after purchasing the equipment, I took the kids to the ship's pool to show them how.  My oldest loved it.  The younger two--not so much.  They decided wearing the mask was o.k., but the snorkel wasn't fun to breathe through.  Their choice.

When we arrived in Cozumel, we packed up the equipment, minus the youngest kid's snorkels and headed to Chankanaab.  The beauty of the beach was breath taking.  The kids couldn't wait to get in the water.

At the recommendation of the beach staff, we put all the kids in life vests and headed to the appropriate entry places--Cozumel is a coral atoll, and there are several places where there is no gradual entry into the water.  You literally have to climb down rocks or metal stairs to enter.  The kids weren't thrilled with that, but they still couldn't wait to swim.

My eldest began snorkeling right away.  My middle child, put on her mask and began observing the underwater features.  My son had decided to forgo any thoughts of snorkeling when we were putting our stuff in the lockers.  "I don't want my mask!" he dictated.

Suddenly, my eldest surfaced.  "Check out all the fish!!!" she exclaimed.

My middle child stuck her head underwater, surfaced, and shouted out, "Cool.  They are so close.  I almost touched one!"

My son yelled out, "I want my mask!!!"

Fortunately, he has a nice uncle who went back and got it.

Maybe he learned a lesson.  Maybe.

In our world--particularly in our United States Culture--we have an affinity for everything new.  We have an affinity for the latest and greatest.  We believe we need to focus on the young folks who have new and amazing insights.  We need to strive to experience things ourselves and forge new pathways.

There is nothing wrong with this--as long as it is rooted and grounded in the wisdom of the past.

I mean that in all sincerity.  I used to be one of those craving the newest and latest stuff--especially in the Church.  New insights into theology; new worship music; new methods of interpreting Scripture.  This was the stuff which would turn the decline of the Church in the U.S. around.

NOT!

If my son would have listened to me, he would have taken his mask with him from the get go.  He would have understood there was something really neat to experience under the water for which his mask would be a huge asset.  But wanting to do things on his own without regard for the knowledge I had, he almost missed out.  Almost.  Fortunately, I had the forethought to pack his mask even though he was adamant he didn't want it.

Perhaps it is time many of us in the Church listen more carefully to those who have gone before.  Perhaps it's time to acknowledge contemporary scholars and their contributions to theology, but to ask them, "How does this relate to the Old Time Religion--the religion founded upon grace; the religion that cuts everyone to the heart (Acts 2); the religion which states there is no other Gospel (Galatians 2).

"For it is by grace that you have been saved through faith," and this is not any work that you did on your own.  It was God's work, and God's work alone.  This is the wisdom of those who have gone before--extending back to the earliest disciples of Jesus.  This was the message which caught the world by fire (the Spirit) and water (baptism). 

Much of the church in the U.S.'s focus is on what we are supposed to do instead of what God has already accomplished.  We have done a poor job of being heralds.  We love being advisers and telling people what they should do.  We focus on our action instead of God's.

Perhaps it's time to trust the wisdom of those who have gone before.