Hmmm...
The Invisible Woman
12 07 11 10:33
How could such a thing be? Her home was not in the outback, far removed from civilization; it was in Sydney. It boggles my mind that anyone could be so invisible that for eight years no relative, neighbor, or pension-paying government could notice that she was dead. I could take comfort that it happened on the other side of the world were it not for my suspicion that it could happen here, too.
One of the tragic results of the kind of me-ism that is epidemic in our culture is that everyone else becomes unimportant because I am too busy with me. I think it flies in the face of God’s intent; it seems to me that we have been created and called to community, like it or not. In the independent Northwest (and I suppose in independent Australia) some people don’t like it. And if I’m honest, I have to admit that sometimes I am one of them. Which leaves me wondering if there is anyone in my world who is so invisible that I would not notice his death. The thought gives fresh perspective to the psalmist’s observation that to God, the death of his loved ones is precious.
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Heresy Loses
13 06 11 22:54
It’s only a book; how bad could it be? Rob Bell’s book Love Wins is nothing if not a conversation starter. I figured it was time for me to check it out for myself, so I got hold of a copy from the King County Library determined to read it with an open mind. I think it is the first library book I have ever wanted to burn instead of return. (And I’m the guy who objected to banning Harry Potter from the Christian School classroom!)
The problems are many and pervasive. Perhaps none are more significant than the diminishing of the character of God. I will leave it to other reviewers to flesh out the details of Bell’s errant convictions that heaven, hell, and God are somehow less than you thought. (Kevin DeYoung’s review is as good a place to start as any.) I’ll be reluctantly taking the book back to the library. I’m afraid if I burned it, Bell would claim that it would somehow emerge from the flames redeemed and ready for heaven. I wish some of my Christian brothers didn’t have so much trouble with the truth.
The problems are many and pervasive. Perhaps none are more significant than the diminishing of the character of God. I will leave it to other reviewers to flesh out the details of Bell’s errant convictions that heaven, hell, and God are somehow less than you thought. (Kevin DeYoung’s review is as good a place to start as any.) I’ll be reluctantly taking the book back to the library. I’m afraid if I burned it, Bell would claim that it would somehow emerge from the flames redeemed and ready for heaven. I wish some of my Christian brothers didn’t have so much trouble with the truth.
God and Bin Laden
02 05 11 11:42
I’m about to irritate some of my friends.
I heard the news that Osama bin Laden is dead called through the bathroom door this morning while I was taking a shower in Ireland. By the time I dried off and dressed, I could see the televised images of a joy that I can’t quite share. I can understand the sense of celebration. For the last decade he has been the face of evil and hatred, and he has now received the destiny he chose. But nagging at the back of my mind has been a disquieting question: What does God think about the death of bin Laden?
I do not minimize for a moment the unspeakable value of the lives of those who have died as victims of or warriors in the battle with terror. I also have trouble wrapping my mind around the truth that bin Laden was a man whom God loved and to whom God’s grace was available. To celebrate the irreversible rejection of such love misses the point of who God is and what He intends. Death, even the death of one who seemed to delight in being the personification of evil, is no win; in the economy of the kingdom of a God who desires that nobody should perish, it seems more like a loss because it was not evil that died; it was an evil man that God had not stopped loving. Bin Laden may be gone, but the battle against evil is not over.
That there are those for whom hell will be needed before they grasp the reality of God is a tragic truth, but probably not one worth celebrating. And if that irritates you, so be it.
I heard the news that Osama bin Laden is dead called through the bathroom door this morning while I was taking a shower in Ireland. By the time I dried off and dressed, I could see the televised images of a joy that I can’t quite share. I can understand the sense of celebration. For the last decade he has been the face of evil and hatred, and he has now received the destiny he chose. But nagging at the back of my mind has been a disquieting question: What does God think about the death of bin Laden?
I do not minimize for a moment the unspeakable value of the lives of those who have died as victims of or warriors in the battle with terror. I also have trouble wrapping my mind around the truth that bin Laden was a man whom God loved and to whom God’s grace was available. To celebrate the irreversible rejection of such love misses the point of who God is and what He intends. Death, even the death of one who seemed to delight in being the personification of evil, is no win; in the economy of the kingdom of a God who desires that nobody should perish, it seems more like a loss because it was not evil that died; it was an evil man that God had not stopped loving. Bin Laden may be gone, but the battle against evil is not over.
That there are those for whom hell will be needed before they grasp the reality of God is a tragic truth, but probably not one worth celebrating. And if that irritates you, so be it.
Derailed Express
21 11 10 16:42
The waitress came by a few minutes later to pick up the check, glanced at my card, and said, “I’m sorry, sir; we don’t take American Express.” I think I probably stopped smiling. I looked at the card and the logo on the holder; they both said American Express, and it seemed like a perfect match to me. Before I could ask the obvious question, she continued: “I know; we were just talking about that. We need to cover those logos with something else.” Or get holders that Visa helped pay for instead, I thought. “Do you have another card?” she asked.
It occurs to me that sometimes the various labels we stick on our lives are misleading. And sometimes that doesn’t bother us. It should. Phoniness is always uncomfortable, both for the phony and those who encounter it. Ask the waitress.
I’d rather have known up front, but smiling again, I replaced the AmEx card with a Visa. After all, settling for air miles instead of a rebate isn’t all that bad.
Dino, Patty, and Jesus
02 11 10 23:25
I can probably start answering the phone again, not that it will ring that much now that the campaign season is history. For the last several days, callers have had to put up with a message on my answering machine. My voice on the message is preceded by tones designed to signal automatic calling programs that my number has been disconnected. The automatic callers take the hint and hang up immediately. Political volunteers, on the other hand - the human kind - don’t; they hang on and leave a message, convinced that I am (or soon will be) one of them.
It will be a while before we know whether Dino will replace Patty in the Senate. The vote counters will do their thing, and King County Elections will try to avoid yet another scandal. I just glad not to be getting calls from either campaign. It is axiomatic that politics and religion as conversation topics are bound to start an argument, and so for much of the year, civil people often seem to avoid those topics. Except, of course, during election season when it is fair game to urge everyone in sight (and thousands who aren’t in sight) to support the candidate or cause of one’s choosing.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the freedom we enjoy to engage in vigorous debate about politics, and I can be just as passionate about my views as others. Freedom is a precious thing. But I sometimes wonder if our passion is not misdirected. Maybe we need an election season for Jesus, a time when it is not politically incorrect to share one’s convictions and passionate support for the Lord. Maybe that season is now. Maybe it’s okay to risk disagreement.
I voted for Dino in spite of the woman who called three times to urge me to mail my ballot voting for Patty. If Dino loses, I’ll get by, and so, I hope, will the country. But I’m pretty sure I won’t make it without Jesus. And that’s worth a little passion.
It will be a while before we know whether Dino will replace Patty in the Senate. The vote counters will do their thing, and King County Elections will try to avoid yet another scandal. I just glad not to be getting calls from either campaign. It is axiomatic that politics and religion as conversation topics are bound to start an argument, and so for much of the year, civil people often seem to avoid those topics. Except, of course, during election season when it is fair game to urge everyone in sight (and thousands who aren’t in sight) to support the candidate or cause of one’s choosing.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the freedom we enjoy to engage in vigorous debate about politics, and I can be just as passionate about my views as others. Freedom is a precious thing. But I sometimes wonder if our passion is not misdirected. Maybe we need an election season for Jesus, a time when it is not politically incorrect to share one’s convictions and passionate support for the Lord. Maybe that season is now. Maybe it’s okay to risk disagreement.
I voted for Dino in spite of the woman who called three times to urge me to mail my ballot voting for Patty. If Dino loses, I’ll get by, and so, I hope, will the country. But I’m pretty sure I won’t make it without Jesus. And that’s worth a little passion.
Red Carpet Delivery
17 09 10 23:33
I saw the truck and heard his footsteps before he had a chance to ring the bell. As I opened the door, young Sven unrolled his Red Carpet Delivery “Sleep Country” mat on the porch and asked me if they would be picking up any old bed. Yes, I explained, they would be picking up one queen set and delivering two.
The adventure started with Suzanne’s desire for something larger than her day bed. She is, after all not a twin; she is a princess worthy of a queen bed. So she went looking, the price ended up being right, and I decided it was time to trade in my 20+ year old sagging set as well. So there would be two beds delivered today, and we were ready - especially Suzanne whose old bed had been sold the previous day.
We’re probably going to have to do this tomorrow, Sven told me. The truck is jam packed, and we can’t get another bed on it. It seemed to me that the math was not difficult: Two beds off the truck; one bed on the truck. Presto - the truck is less full. But he wasn’t buying it. If you call your salesperson, they can set it up for tomorrow. I wondered aloud if they would also like to set up a hotel room for tonight. At that, he rejoined his young buddy Ole at the truck who was hoping to start his weekend early, and they began rearranging mattresses, but not happily so.
Sometimes we are constrained by love (that’s the way it’s supposed to work), sometimes by necessity, and occasionally we resist being constrained at all. I am thankful that Sven and Ole chose to be constrained by necessity - I’m pretty sure it wasn’t love - and started their weekend a half hour later than they had hoped. When they left, Sven asked me to sign the red carpet delivery sheet. It didn’t mention love. I signed, thanked him for making it work, and sent them on their way to their weekend.
And so to bed . . . .
The adventure started with Suzanne’s desire for something larger than her day bed. She is, after all not a twin; she is a princess worthy of a queen bed. So she went looking, the price ended up being right, and I decided it was time to trade in my 20+ year old sagging set as well. So there would be two beds delivered today, and we were ready - especially Suzanne whose old bed had been sold the previous day.
We’re probably going to have to do this tomorrow, Sven told me. The truck is jam packed, and we can’t get another bed on it. It seemed to me that the math was not difficult: Two beds off the truck; one bed on the truck. Presto - the truck is less full. But he wasn’t buying it. If you call your salesperson, they can set it up for tomorrow. I wondered aloud if they would also like to set up a hotel room for tonight. At that, he rejoined his young buddy Ole at the truck who was hoping to start his weekend early, and they began rearranging mattresses, but not happily so.
Sometimes we are constrained by love (that’s the way it’s supposed to work), sometimes by necessity, and occasionally we resist being constrained at all. I am thankful that Sven and Ole chose to be constrained by necessity - I’m pretty sure it wasn’t love - and started their weekend a half hour later than they had hoped. When they left, Sven asked me to sign the red carpet delivery sheet. It didn’t mention love. I signed, thanked him for making it work, and sent them on their way to their weekend.
And so to bed . . . .
Waste of the day
02 06 10 23:55
Today’s Dumb Award goes to Kathleen Sebelius, Secretary of Health and Human Services, whom I do not know personally. Kathy mailed me a lovely four-page full color slick brochure extolling the benefits of the new health care law for the medicare crowd of which I am now a part. One of my favorite parts was the explanation of how reducing funding for medicare advantage will make that program better. Maybe it’s my good Scottish thrifty background showing up, but this piece of junk mail, sent at government expense is worthless. One more tax dollar down the rabbit hole with Alice. Nice going, Kath.
