I am amused to share with you all my latest discovery: The Dilbert Blog. Not only does Scott Adams share with us his innermost thoughts, but every so often, he writes a gem of such magnitude that every theological student should read it. And every scientist.
This is what I'm talking about.
That's right: Scott Adams writes about the debate between Evolutionists and Creationists. And it contains the best thoughts I've heard on the subject in ages. My favorite comment was "Scott: This was all just a ruse for you to prove yourself correct that any debate about Evo-ID just turns into angry posts and name-calling, wasn't it?" ... and something tells me he's right, but that's why I love the post so much, because he's so right.
Enjoy the article. It's worth the read.
November 12, 2005
November 8, 2005
A Servant's Heart
I’d like to respond to a comment made on my last post, a post I wrote to explore my own feelings towards the poor. After I wrote it, and then read the comment, I went and did some research. Here’s the comment:
Where exactly do you read that Jesus tells us to feed the poor?
Where exactly do you read that Jesus tells us to feed the poor?
Jesus touched those that came into His way, His life or His walk. He never went looking for the needy. And just because He restored the sight of one blind man, didn't obligate Him to restore the sight of all who were blind. I do not believe in setting up soup kitchens under 'Christian' leadership. If governments want to head up such a project, go for it, but for Jesus Followers to invest such time and resources and grief (and it is grievous for those with their whole heart in it)...I just see it as a losing battle because Jesus already told us "The poor you will have with you always". [that sounds pretty definite]. Besides, Jesus said "My yoke is easy and my burden is light" and housing the homeless and feeding the poor is neither of those things. And it's an impossible task right from the get go when He said it would be so.
I believe that if someone, such as a Susie, asks us for help, we are obligated to do what we can do for them. In Matthew 5, Jesus was pretty clear on how to treat a non-believer, or even an enemy. Whatever they ask, give it to them and then some. [How much more so for a fellow follwer?]
Jesus’ exact words might not have said “feed the poor” (but how often did he say things directly about that sort of thing, rather than saying things like “feed my sheep” and other metaphors – if you think about it, He could be pretty confusing), but from that, two comments. First, I’m not comfortable basing my entire lifestyle about what the gospels never said in explicit detail, and second, history tells us that Jesus’ followers, immediately following His resurrection, sure thought that taking care of the poor was a part of His teaching. Paul mentions it a number of times, but even more compelling are the complaints against Christians in first- and second- century Rome. Emperor Justinian is noted to have complained bitterly against the Christians, making comments about how they kept showing up the Roman government by taking care of not only their own poor/destitute/sick/plague victims, but also taking care of those of the Roman Empire. So Christians weren’t following the law (they wouldn’t follow the cult of the Emperor by making sacrifices to him), but they still went out of their way – into considerable danger, in fact – to take care of those in need. The people who were closest to Jesus when he was actually here physically walking this earth believed that taking care of those in need was important.
Which brings me to the very character of Jesus himself. Jesus came to this universe not to make us focus more on ourselves, but for us to focus more on Him, ergo on others. Jesus is not the kind of guy who says “you are more important than your neighbor,” and it’s been my experience that faith is never comfortable, nor is it easy. In fact, I’d say that being a child of Christ is both harder and less comfortable in the current world than not being one of his children. Why? Because Jesus said lots of stuff that goes against the grain of the world; “My yolk is easy and my burden is light” is followed by things like “I tell you if you think impure thoughts about a woman, you have committed adultery” and “anyone who says to his brother ‘raca’ [a word of hate] is answerable to the Sanhedrin, and anyone who says ‘you fool!’ will be in danger of the fires of hell.” I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure this is not exactly an easy thing – how often is our first instinct (and the one we often follow) to say “I hate you,” or “you suck” or whatever your choice of language is … instead of showing compassion and mercy?
He said “whoever wants to be greatest in the kingdom of heaven will make himself like a child, humble and obedient” – something that human beings are often incapable of. Not only that, but are you saying we are only to follow Christ’s words, not his actions? He spent so much time in the gospels healing and aiding the poor that it’s a wonder he found the time to teach!
To extend this further, there is lots of the three years of Jesus’ ministry unaccounted for in scripture. The gospel writers only give us examples of what He did, not everything he did. There’s a verse in John (30:20) that says “Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book;” there were more we don’t even know about because the disciples and gospel writers got tired of writing down so many examples. Most of his miracles follow a pattern of healing, generosity, and dedication to those less fortunate. And if I may infer something, since Jesus is God, all of us are less fortunate than He is. He owns everything, he has been given authority over heaven and earth by God the father, and what did he do? He gave away freely to those that needed it (five thousand men and their families, for example, or think of his parable of the wedding banquet where the king goes and invites all the people off the streets instead of the people who didn’t have time for him).
I don’t see a Jesus who thinks that the poor and “unclean” are a waste of time and energy and grief, I see a Jesus who cares for the destitute most of all – his compassion is limitless! He cares for people – all people – more than he cares for himself, i.e. the cross. He gave everything he had, even his body and his life, for those less fortunate than he. The gospel is not about me as an individual getting to heaven and not wasting my time and efforts on my neighbor (and yes, feeding the poor is part of that), it is about giving up myself and my wishes and my desires and my comforts to follow a God - in mind and in deed - who loves us all.
Jesus’ exact words might not have said “feed the poor” (but how often did he say things directly about that sort of thing, rather than saying things like “feed my sheep” and other metaphors – if you think about it, He could be pretty confusing), but from that, two comments. First, I’m not comfortable basing my entire lifestyle about what the gospels never said in explicit detail, and second, history tells us that Jesus’ followers, immediately following His resurrection, sure thought that taking care of the poor was a part of His teaching. Paul mentions it a number of times, but even more compelling are the complaints against Christians in first- and second- century Rome. Emperor Justinian is noted to have complained bitterly against the Christians, making comments about how they kept showing up the Roman government by taking care of not only their own poor/destitute/sick/plague victims, but also taking care of those of the Roman Empire. So Christians weren’t following the law (they wouldn’t follow the cult of the Emperor by making sacrifices to him), but they still went out of their way – into considerable danger, in fact – to take care of those in need. The people who were closest to Jesus when he was actually here physically walking this earth believed that taking care of those in need was important.
Which brings me to the very character of Jesus himself. Jesus came to this universe not to make us focus more on ourselves, but for us to focus more on Him, ergo on others. Jesus is not the kind of guy who says “you are more important than your neighbor,” and it’s been my experience that faith is never comfortable, nor is it easy. In fact, I’d say that being a child of Christ is both harder and less comfortable in the current world than not being one of his children. Why? Because Jesus said lots of stuff that goes against the grain of the world; “My yolk is easy and my burden is light” is followed by things like “I tell you if you think impure thoughts about a woman, you have committed adultery” and “anyone who says to his brother ‘raca’ [a word of hate] is answerable to the Sanhedrin, and anyone who says ‘you fool!’ will be in danger of the fires of hell.” I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure this is not exactly an easy thing – how often is our first instinct (and the one we often follow) to say “I hate you,” or “you suck” or whatever your choice of language is … instead of showing compassion and mercy?
He said “whoever wants to be greatest in the kingdom of heaven will make himself like a child, humble and obedient” – something that human beings are often incapable of. Not only that, but are you saying we are only to follow Christ’s words, not his actions? He spent so much time in the gospels healing and aiding the poor that it’s a wonder he found the time to teach!
To extend this further, there is lots of the three years of Jesus’ ministry unaccounted for in scripture. The gospel writers only give us examples of what He did, not everything he did. There’s a verse in John (30:20) that says “Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book;” there were more we don’t even know about because the disciples and gospel writers got tired of writing down so many examples. Most of his miracles follow a pattern of healing, generosity, and dedication to those less fortunate. And if I may infer something, since Jesus is God, all of us are less fortunate than He is. He owns everything, he has been given authority over heaven and earth by God the father, and what did he do? He gave away freely to those that needed it (five thousand men and their families, for example, or think of his parable of the wedding banquet where the king goes and invites all the people off the streets instead of the people who didn’t have time for him).
I don’t see a Jesus who thinks that the poor and “unclean” are a waste of time and energy and grief, I see a Jesus who cares for the destitute most of all – his compassion is limitless! He cares for people – all people – more than he cares for himself, i.e. the cross. He gave everything he had, even his body and his life, for those less fortunate than he. The gospel is not about me as an individual getting to heaven and not wasting my time and efforts on my neighbor (and yes, feeding the poor is part of that), it is about giving up myself and my wishes and my desires and my comforts to follow a God - in mind and in deed - who loves us all.
November 1, 2005
A Mile in Their Shoes
After waking up this morning, my wife turns to me and says (after good morning), “honey, why don’t you come to downtown and volunteer instead of sitting around?” Now, I wasn’t sure what to make of that, because when I’m there I don’t really feel like I sit around all the time – I do help out when she asks – so I said so; “I do volunteer … why would you think I don’t?” And so she says “well … yes … sort of … but you really just kind of sit there until I have to ask you to do something.”
While I was glad we were on the same page, her tone of voice bothered me – she sounded like she thought that was bad. “What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “You sit there,” she said, “and play on your little shiny laptop while all these poor people come in to get food. Well, maybe not play, I know you’re doing work, but it’s still on a shiny laptop.” After I realized what she was saying, being the gallant man I am, I told her I’d think about it.
And the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I usually feel pretty good about being there, because I don’t get in the way, and I get to be near my wife while I write the music I’d otherwise be writing alone at home. I felt like I had a pretty good deal. And yet, whenever she asks me to work with a client, it usually ends up being the part where I get their food and not the part where I have to talk with them. And then I thought about compassion – what do I feel when I see these people that makes me want to get their food and not talk with them like another human being. I mean, I’m not a shy kind of guy usually, but for some reason, in these settings (which are in some ways just like the coffee shops and restaurants that I’ve worked in), I get nervous to the point where I’d prefer to focus on my laptop and shut out the world around me.
And I came to the conclusion that I really don’t feel much of anything for those people; no compassion, no kindness, no mercy … not really even pity. In fact, I feel disdain towards many (not all, I’m not a monster) of them, looking at their bad choices and thinking that if they really cared, they could always go get a job and they wouldn’t need our help. They must just be lazy and trying to take advantage of the system instead of working for what they want.
And many of them are – I see people come from Eddie O’Brien’s (a bar and restaurant across the street) where they just had lunch, over to the food pantry to get food, where they annoy the volunteers by telling them exactly (to the brand-name and flavor) what they want, and that nothing else will do. They carry cell phones and wear nice enough clothing (not usually very stylish, but sometimes). I see those people and all I think of is that justice is not being done, that they shouldn’t be getting food from us, that the food should be saved for people who really need it.
And the more I thought about it, the more I began to hate my attitude. They’re God’s children too, just like me, only their bad choices focused around their finances or their education or maybe – just maybe – they didn’t make a bad choice at all and yet the world still chose them to be the brunt of ill luck. Maybe lots of those people really are just doing what they know and have never had anyone to invest in them – parents, grandparents, friends, anyone – to show them that there’s a better way, a more satisfying way to live life.
And it occurs to me, after reading Greg’s post, that (as I said in my comment) it takes the relationship to understand a person’s true needs – and to walk a mile or maybe a few in their shoes. Maybe the reason that people like me have no compassion is that we haven’t walked in the shoes of these people at all. We’ve never been poor, not really, and we didn’t grow up in the sort of homes they did, we didn’t lose the sort of things they lost, we didn’t not-have the sorts of things they didn’t.
We’re spoiled.
Or maybe they’re “underprivileged” or whatever. Political-correctness aside, I’m to the point where I have a choice to make – do I walk in their shoes or don’t I? It means putting a lot of stuff aside (my shiny laptop maybe?) or getting rid of altogether. It means wandering way out of my comfort zone and doing stuff I’m not used to and I don’t think I’ll like very much – like going hungry; like humiliating myself by searching for low-level fast-food jobs or garbage-jobs or things like that. I can’t take away my education, sadly, but I don’t have to mention it when I interview.
While I was glad we were on the same page, her tone of voice bothered me – she sounded like she thought that was bad. “What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “You sit there,” she said, “and play on your little shiny laptop while all these poor people come in to get food. Well, maybe not play, I know you’re doing work, but it’s still on a shiny laptop.” After I realized what she was saying, being the gallant man I am, I told her I’d think about it.
And the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I usually feel pretty good about being there, because I don’t get in the way, and I get to be near my wife while I write the music I’d otherwise be writing alone at home. I felt like I had a pretty good deal. And yet, whenever she asks me to work with a client, it usually ends up being the part where I get their food and not the part where I have to talk with them. And then I thought about compassion – what do I feel when I see these people that makes me want to get their food and not talk with them like another human being. I mean, I’m not a shy kind of guy usually, but for some reason, in these settings (which are in some ways just like the coffee shops and restaurants that I’ve worked in), I get nervous to the point where I’d prefer to focus on my laptop and shut out the world around me.
And I came to the conclusion that I really don’t feel much of anything for those people; no compassion, no kindness, no mercy … not really even pity. In fact, I feel disdain towards many (not all, I’m not a monster) of them, looking at their bad choices and thinking that if they really cared, they could always go get a job and they wouldn’t need our help. They must just be lazy and trying to take advantage of the system instead of working for what they want.
And many of them are – I see people come from Eddie O’Brien’s (a bar and restaurant across the street) where they just had lunch, over to the food pantry to get food, where they annoy the volunteers by telling them exactly (to the brand-name and flavor) what they want, and that nothing else will do. They carry cell phones and wear nice enough clothing (not usually very stylish, but sometimes). I see those people and all I think of is that justice is not being done, that they shouldn’t be getting food from us, that the food should be saved for people who really need it.
And the more I thought about it, the more I began to hate my attitude. They’re God’s children too, just like me, only their bad choices focused around their finances or their education or maybe – just maybe – they didn’t make a bad choice at all and yet the world still chose them to be the brunt of ill luck. Maybe lots of those people really are just doing what they know and have never had anyone to invest in them – parents, grandparents, friends, anyone – to show them that there’s a better way, a more satisfying way to live life.
And it occurs to me, after reading Greg’s post, that (as I said in my comment) it takes the relationship to understand a person’s true needs – and to walk a mile or maybe a few in their shoes. Maybe the reason that people like me have no compassion is that we haven’t walked in the shoes of these people at all. We’ve never been poor, not really, and we didn’t grow up in the sort of homes they did, we didn’t lose the sort of things they lost, we didn’t not-have the sorts of things they didn’t.
We’re spoiled.
Or maybe they’re “underprivileged” or whatever. Political-correctness aside, I’m to the point where I have a choice to make – do I walk in their shoes or don’t I? It means putting a lot of stuff aside (my shiny laptop maybe?) or getting rid of altogether. It means wandering way out of my comfort zone and doing stuff I’m not used to and I don’t think I’ll like very much – like going hungry; like humiliating myself by searching for low-level fast-food jobs or garbage-jobs or things like that. I can’t take away my education, sadly, but I don’t have to mention it when I interview.
Or maybe I’ll keep on doing what I’m doing and after this all passes, find myself back where I started, no more humble and no more patient and no more compassionate than I was when I started … or maybe I’ll learn something from all this and find my God-given compassion.
"As for those who seemed to be important — whatever they were makes no difference to me; God does not judge by external appearance — those men added nothing to my message. On the contrary, they saw that I had been entrusted with the task of preaching the gospel to the Gentiles, just as Peter had been to the Jews. For God, who was at work in the ministry of Peter as an apostle to the Jews, was also at work in my ministry as an apostle to the Gentiles. James, Peter and John, those reputed to be pillars, gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship when they recognized the grace given to me. They agreed that we should go to the Gentiles, and they to the Jews. All they asked was that we should continue to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do." [Galatians 2:6-10]
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