Acknowledging Responsibility

This morning I caught the first of a six part BBC documentary series title Auschwitz: Inside the Nazi State. The documentary examines the historical facts surrounding WWII’s most horrific and infamous Jewish extermination facility. What was most troubling, and has always bothered me in regards to the Holocaust, is the refusal to acknowledge the atrocity of the situation as it was occurring. Certainly many Germans, and others, who were not directly involved in the extermination of Jews, knew what was going on and did nothing. And while we can try and justify their reasons for turning their heads to the terror – the fact remains that they turned their heads. I cringe at the thought that people knew and did nothing, but how is this any different than those of us who refuse to acknowledge the atrocity of the slaughter of 50 million babies in this country alone since Roe vs. Wade?

In the aftermath of these criminal actions, we are flabbergasted to think of the inhuman execution of Jews by gassing, and wonder why such crimes that were preventable were allowed to occur. Ultimately, the answer lies in ones refusal to acknowledge and accept responsibility. For as long as we ignore what’s happening we don’t feel a sense of responsibility to change it. Whether it’s the execution of 4.1 million Jews at Auschwitz or the abortion of 1.2 million infants in this country every year, we must acknowledge and accept responsibility for this present day genocide if it is ever going to come to an end.

In most instances, it’s in the aftermath that we acknowledge, and therefore, express embarrassment and sense of responsibility for such atrocities. It’s hard to believe that people are capable of treating others the way that German Nazi’s treated Jews during WWII, or white Americans treated blacks before and during the Civil Rights Movement in this country.   

Who in the 1950's or 1960's could have dreamed that our government would have made it an undeniable right (Law) that a woman could contract a so-called "doctor" to reach into her uterus with forceps and crush the head of a well-formed thinking and feeling baby, pull apart the baby's limbs with cold steel instruments and burn its small body with saline solution?

Orthodox Jewish Rabbi Yehuda Levin of Brooklyn, New York, a prominent pro-life activist, agrees that abortion is genocide. He says that it can fairly be compared to the Holocaust, lynching’s and every other crime against humanity. The rabbi argues that: “Each form of genocide, whether Holocaust, lynching, abortion, etc., differs from all the others in the motives and methods of its perpetrators. But each form of genocide is identical to all the others in that it involves the systematic slaughter, as state sanctioned "choice," of innocent, defenseless victims -- while denying their "personhood."

So, we can continue to deny and justify the genocide of innocent children in this country, or accept responsibility and begin to demand change. 70 years from now, I wonder if my children’s kids will ask why this generation did nothing to stop the horrific events that happen daily to unborn children in medical facilities around this country, why we turned our heads to the atrocity of abortion?

Self Portrait

Many things I’ve tried

And the one thing I’m not

Is the very thing you want me to be

Many things I’ve left behind

To try and prove myself

And found that life was empty

So I fight

To be what I’m not

Just so you’ll love me

And I strive

And work the ground

Growing weary of this journey

But you say,

“You don’t need to do that.”

You say,

“You never did.

I love you despite it all

And just want to be a friend.”

So I’m tossing aside my mask

And accepting to cling to me

Tearing back the curtain

To become the man I’m meant to be

 

One Brick at a Time

On Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs, Mike Rowe, the star and narrator, travels the world serving in some of the most back-breaking, grungiest work one could ever imagine - jobs few of us would ever consider taking, even for one week.

Mike reminds us that our jobs can tire us, frustrate us, and even slime us. Yet, our work can also make us feel most alive: being creative, building, and serving. Some of my most gratifying life moments come through hard, focused work in which I produce results and construct things, visible evidence that my life matters.

Recently, a friend reminded me that it’s in our DNA to build, construct, work, etc. And that everyone is trying to build, establish, or construct something. Whether it's their career, a relationship, a reputation, etc. We're all putting something together. It's ingrained in us from an early age. My parents use to say, "You gotta work hard to make it in this life, because no one else is going to do it for you." 

My kids love to build stuff with Lego’s, they construct all kinds of things. Sometimes I recognize the stuff they're building, and other times I just don't have any idea what it is unless they tell me. I wonder sometimes if God looks at the crap were slapping together, often in an attempt to try and impress him, and wonders what in the hell it is and why were building it to begin with?

Nowhere, in all of scripture, is this more apparent then the story of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11). Granted Israel's intentions were good, but constructing a tower to reach God when he's already made himself completely available is absurd. Those living in Babel got together and began making plans to construct something that would make them famous. The tower they were constructing would be so high that people would see it from miles away. Brick by brick they built this massive tower.

     The Bible tells us that God came down to see the tower and the city these people were building. He saw a people taken up in their own power and name, and disappointed scattered them among the nations. In the process of constructing this tower they'd lost sight of God's power and nature, and had become obsessed with selfish prosperity. They'd become so busy building a name for themselves they no longer had a need for God.

  This story from scripture and my comments are not an argument against construction per se, but rather a suggestion for our consideration that how we build and what we build matters!

If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person's work. If what has been built survives, the builder will receive a reward. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss but yet will be saved-even though only as one escaping through the flames." [1 Corinthians 3:12-15]

Some of the things we create might not have as high a probability as others of showing up in the New Creation. Their actual identity, either through the process of being created or in their final state, may be so at odds with God's character, they will have to be transformed into something else for them to make it through the "refining fire." Even if the stuff we create appears to be functional for God’s Kingdom, the spirit in which they were made or offered might soil their eternal utility. The Tower of Babel serves as an example of this. God was not impressed and frustrated Israel’s efforts by scattering the people across the earth and confusing their languages. Both city and tower, likely impressive structures with both aesthetic and functional value, were tainted by bad motives.

   At the end of the day, the question we all must answer is WHY we’re invested in the construction of __________________, cause where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 

A Poem

A hungry man begs for money to buy food,
but is offered a cup of coffee in return
An angry woman testifies of salvation received,
but forgives no one
A man sits in a prison he constructed,
and nobody comes to visit him
And a thirsty village drinks dirty water

A naked couple, ashamed and embarrassed,
cover up their need for clothes
A sick woman is taken to a doctor,
prayed for, forgotten, and dies
A strange man wonders into a group of people,
but is given no place to rest
And a thirsty village drinks dirty water

A lonely widow gives away her last penny,
but nobody cares or notices
A child full of God's Kingdom
is left abandoned and plays alone
A gentlemen who once felt love
is now loved by no one
And a thirsty village drinks dirty water

A Parable

A man went out of his way to win the affection of a beautiful woman. He asked the woman for an opportunity to take her on a date. She agreed. They decided that Friday would be best. 

In the meantime, he confided in a friend who told him everything he should do to make a good first impression. The man set about the task of making all the arrangements for his big day. He hooked himself up with a whole new wardrobe, got a haircut, and made reservations at an up-scale restaurant. He even scored front row seats for the sold-out concert of his favorite band. When everything was set, he was certain that he'd gain her love. 

When Friday came around, he borrowed his father’s old suped-up car, he was sure that his old beater wouldn’t impress her.  Full of pride, he rolled up in her driveway to pick her up. After a short greeting, they were on their way. As the music (he figured she might like) rang out from his play list, the two of them stared out the car window. When they arrived at the restaurant, the first thing the man did was make sure she knew just what to order. After dinner, they attended the concert, had a drink at the local pub, and headed back to her house. 

Sure that this night would end with a kiss and a guarantee of a second date, he walked her to her door and asked:

“Can I see you again?”

“See me again? Why you haven’t even seen me tonight,” she answered.

Ultimate Concern

    9 is an animated film directed by Shane Acker and produced by Tim Burton. It is set in a post-apocalyptic future ravaged by war between machines and humans. The plot of the film centers on a rag doll that awakens in this world and learns that he, along with others like him, holds the key to humanity’s salvation.
    Prior to the events of the film, we learn that a Scientist was ordered by a dictatorial chancellor to create an artificially intelligent machine that would be used to build other machines to wage war on enemy nations. However, the machine created to do man’s bidding turned on humanity and completely destroyed all life. To atone for his part in the destruction of humanity, and to restore life on Earth, the Scientist creates a set of nine rag dolls and a talisman that he uses to place his soul in the dolls and bring them to life.
    When the talisman falls into the hands of the machine, the machine uses it to trap the souls of captured dolls inside its self. 9 must recruit the others like him to take on the machine, regain control of the talisman, and free the souls of the dolls that are now trapped inside the machine. If he fails – no soul will remain and all life will be lost forever.
    What is interesting about this film, and its plot, is how it parallels with the idea that our lives are rapt in the system/machine of this world. In other words, we are completely convinced, or should I say, completely fooled by the notion that we must subject our lives to the world system. This is not a new fixation for it concerned OT Israel long ago. We learn in 1 Samuel 8 that Israel longed to be like the other nations and demanded a king. They were not satisfied in being ruled by God and defined by his existence. They wanted a king to bring them security and prosperity.
    Like Israel, our concern lies in a system established by men rather than the life that God offers us in Christ. We have allowed the world system to define our very existence. We have elevated something that is merely preliminary to a place of ultimacy and in so doing have subjected ourselves to an abstruse form of idolatry. We’ve lost sight of the life we were created to live and find ourselves trapped in concern over created things rather than the creator (Rom 1:25). Paul Tillich says, “Man, like every living being, is concerned about many things, above all about those which condition his very existence . . . If [a situation or concern] claims ultimacy it demands the total surrender of him who accepts this claim . . . it demands that all other concerns . . . be sacrificed.” (Dynamics of Faith, p. 1-2) One can, according to Tillich, be ultimately concerned about anything, including but not limited to one’s personal success, a national sovereignty, a political and social vision, the quest for scientific truth, or the God of the Bible.
    Jesus is the manifestation of humanities struggle with ultimate concern. His entire earthly existence was devoted to the establishment of a kingdom that contrasted that of the Roman world (Jn 18:36). Who better to demonstrate this devotion to ultimate concern than the one who forfeited his position as ultimate to show us what it looks like to be subjected to that which defines all existence (Phil 2). Everything Jesus did was in response to what the Father was doing (Jn 5:19). In other words, he was totally dependent on the Father and did nothing on his own accord. Jesus’ ultimate concern was God. When the external things of this world were exposed and filtered through that lens of truth they found their rightful place in the whole of Jesus’ existence.
    So how do we live in this world without allowing its concerns to consume our being? In the film 9, 6 tells 9 that he must go to the source, and that revolting against and eliminating the machine will only destroy the souls of those captivated within. Similarly we gain nothing in secluding ourselves from the world; rather we are called to and set apart in this world so that we might assist in releasing those who are slaves to it. 9 must be totally exposed to the machine to regain the talisman and free his friends. In like manner, although we are totally immersed in this world, the ultimacy of our concern must be found in the source behind its existence. When we subject ourselves completely to that source we will understand how it is possible to live in this world and not of it.

The Road You Do Not Choose

   One of my favorite pieces of literature is the poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. The literal meaning of this poem seems obvious; a traveler comes to a fork in the road and needs to decide which way to go. After some mental debate the traveler makes the tough decision to go the way of the road “less traveled by.” This has always been my interpretation until a recent conversation with some close friends of mine.

   As I’ve reconsidered the meaning of this poem I think less emphasis should be placed on the last stanza of the poem and more attention given to the second and third stanza's. Of the two roads the speaker says “the passing there / Had worn them really about the same.” In fact, both roads “that morning equally lay / In leaves no step had trodden black.” Meaning: Neither of the roads is less traveled by. Maybe, just maybe, Robert Frost point is that whichever road the traveler went, they would be sorry that they didn’t take the other. In other words, maybe it really doesn’t matter which path you take.

   Yogi Berra said, “When you arrive at a fork in the road, take it.” Far too much weight is placed on the decision of which path to take. We often stand still for weeks, months, and even years contemplating these choices. Our thinking is that the path we choose will have some defining impact on who we are or what we’re to become. And while the externals may look different depending on our choice we are the same regardless of the road we travel. My point being that these external things do not define us. As the writer of Ecclesiastes says, “It is all so meaningless . . . like a chasing after the wind.” Why is it then that we put so much emphasis on our career choices, spouses, places of residence, etc? What would it look like for us to take on the attitude of the teacher of Ecclesiastes who realized that life remains unfulfilled when it’s centered on earthly things?

   The existential crisis we all face is in determining whether or not our life has any meaning, purpose or value. I want to argue that the paths you take in life, which have profound affects on external circumstances, really have no relevance for who you are. To exist is to always be confronted with the question of meaning and the objective uncertainty of which path to take. However, what we need to understand is that this is not about being anything – this life is about knowing who I am. I can truly become what I nominally already am regardless of which road I take. The truths that matter to who one is cannot be something attained by choosing the right path. These truths are discovered only through the acknowledgement that we are children of God apart from making the right choice. My advice to those of you standing at a fork in the road is to take whichever path you like because you are who you are regardless of the road you do not choose.  

Life Outside the Box?

    The other day I heard someone mention life outside the box and I got to thinking, is that really where we want to exist? People use this reference all the time with the obvious intention being nonconformity and counterculturalism. Most people I associate with work real hard not to sell out to the dominant values and behavior of society. Instead they strive to be different, to stand out, and pretend as though norms don't matter. We see the same sort of attitude in the church. In an effort to be different the church often ostracizes itself and its community. And while most believe that existing outside the box is a radical and revolutionary way to live, what they fail to realize is that in so doing they still allow the box to be a reference point in how they conduct their lives. In other words, if we live in the box, or outside it, the box is still a part of our existential existence. It defines who you are and is the filter through which you sift all of your experiences. I want to argue that we should be striving as individuals and as a church not to live in a box, or outside of the box, but without it.
    Jesus said, "No one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins" (Luke 5:37-38). But why talk about the contrast between old and new? What is new that would be ruined by attaching it an old wineskin or for our reference the box? Jesus delivered this radical message of Good News to the poor, the disenfranchised, the oppressed, the sick, the fractured of his society (Luke 4:18-19). This Gospel when predisposed to the legalism and external practices of the religious in Jesus day was hindered, tainted, and susceptible. Only when received apart from the old can it be effective. 
    Back in the 90's under the leadership of Bill Hybels a seeker friendly model began taking the church by storm. The general idea involved major changes to the old ways of doing church. Choruses instead of hymns, flashy videos to compliment the messages, and water downed Gospel to win the masses. In an effort to attract unchurched people, the "seeker sensitive" movement suggested that churches should cater to the comforts of the "seeker" and should update both style and presentation so as to make the experience, and the Gospel, less offensive. By eliminating the alleged "negative" elements deemed a "turn off" to the world, "seeker" advocates assured us we'd fill the seats on Sunday morning. This "seeker sensitive" model worked if you simply wanted a crowd, but if the idea is to lead people into a sincere, mature relationship with Christ, it was a bust. 
    My generation is a byproduct of that model. A model which took new wine and tried to pour it into old wineskins. Subtly the overriding goal was church attendance and worldly acceptability rather than a transformed life.  The remnant of this movement is a church trying to redefine itself again. But here in lies the problem, as we try to reinvent church we naturally fall back onto what we know. We think we are doing something unique, but really we are only trying to reinvent the wheel or live outside the box. Our attempts at living outside the box merely subjects us to the box. So how do we end this cycle?
    At the close of Jesus parable of the wineskins, Jesus puts it this way: "And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, 'The old is better' " (Luke 5:39). It's easy to fall back into what we are familiar and comfortable with, and justify it, rather than launch out into a life that is guided not by the external (i.e. the box) but rather the voice of the Spirit of God. The two are opposites, the old and the new. You cannot combine them without destroying both.
    No, Jesus insists that the Gospel of the Kingdom must not be hindered, it must be free to work its power not controlled or limited by anything. The new wine may not be as smooth to the tongue, and finely aged as the old wine. It may be a bit sharp and unrefined. But it is alive. You cannot contain it in old structures, you must find new wineskins for it. Only when we are willing to let go of those external things which define our existence (i.e. our box) will we live in the fullness and freedom of God's Spirit. It's not enough to simply live outside of the box.

Absurdity of Faith

   In Fear and Trembling, Soren Kierkegaard attempts to explain faith abstractly. He uses the faith of Abraham (i.e. his decision to sacrifice his son, Isaac) as an example: either Abraham was a knight of faith or a murderer. Kierkegaard admits that he is not qualified to make a judgment; he can only stand in awe of Abraham’s decision because such faith proves itself to be a solitary, individual endeavor, which when subjected to the intelligible world loses its riddle. In other words, faith requires a disregard for the universal laws that govern our day to day lives. That fact, alone, makes faith absurd and truly horrifying to the outside observer. Faith cannot be compartmentalized because it is an exclusive relationship between the individual and the absolute. Which is why Kierkegaard has trouble categorizing Abraham's decision to sacrifice his son. It just doesn't make any sense.
   I suppose had Abraham been questioned regarding why he choose to sacrifice Isaac, his response would've been similar to Jesus' answer when asked why he choose to heal on the Sabbath (Jn 5:19). Jesus was well aware that his decision broke the Jewish Sabbath laws, however, his response to the criticism of the religious leaders reveals much about the absurdity of faith. It wasn't that Jesus set out that day to break the law. Instead I would argue that he really couldn't help himself, he was simply responding to what the Father was already doing. "I can only do what the Father is doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does." The source of Jesus faith, and disregard for the rules of his day, was the will of his Father. In other words, Jesus motivation was the Father's will. 
   In the greek the word is poieo, it is translated do or doing, but its meaning is much deeper than the mere performance of some task. Instead, interpreted it means the motivation behind the action. Translated here, it reveals a deep intimacy between Jesus and the Father. The same type of intimacy that Abraham had with Yahweh. Jesus was so intimately connected with the Father that he merely responded to the Father's voice. Could it be concluded then that our faith is really just a response, a response to what the Father is already doing and/or has done for us. Recognition of his voice and responding accordingly is faith. Because God is not subjected to the laws of nature and works outside of created order, so to our faith must be. That is why faith is always considered an absurdity universally.