Tour de Heaven

My brother told me a funny story about his wife's brother. Apparently, he is quite the bicycle enthusiast, and he especially likes mountain bikes. Well, he was entered into a certain mountain bike race somewhere out West, and just before the start of the race, when all the mass of riders were poised and ready at the starting line, one rider made his way through the crowd next to my brother's brother-in-law. After careful examination, he realized that the rider was Lance Armstrong.

I am not a big fan of cycling, but I have to admit that living in Louisville has made me take note of the sport more. This is primarily the case due to the astronomical amount of bicyclers in this city. They are everywhere! And since moving here four years ago, I have noticed that there are all different types of cyclists. There are the recreational cyclists - those just out to have a good time and enjoying the outdoors. There are the fitness cyclists who aren't fit - they are usually on weird style bikes, like the one that has the seat with the back rest thingy or the two-person bike. There are the fitness cyclists - they actually ride for fitness, which explains why they ride their bikes to work, even on Shelbyville Road during rush hour. There are the family friendly bicyclists - easily identified by the large amount of protective gear and bright orange on each member of the family, even the baby. There are the Non-family friendly cyclists - these are the ones who choose to do 128 laps around Seneca Park to enjoy the "scenery." There are the wannabees - these are easily identified by their stylish jerseys, fancy helmets, and blatant disregard for anyone else on the road or sidewalk. Then there are the serious wannabees. These are just like the wannabees, but actually know something about the sport and occasionally compete in racing events. The key to telling these last two apart is that the wannabees always ride with other wannabees, and they are usually in pack formation.

If I had to put myself in one of these categories, I would be a fitness cyclists. However, I would wear regular work-out attire, opting out of the spandex and brightly colored shirt. Not that there is anything wrong with that, its just not me. I'm a fairly even keel kind of guy, and I hope to avoid either extreme. That goes for life as well as cycling. The more I thik about it, though, the more I realize just how similar Christianity and Louisville cycling really are. Christians generally fall into one of these categories - the recreational, "not too serious" ones, the ones doing it for their "health" and dislike for eternal damnation, the ones who are just there with or because of their family, the ones who go to church to find a date or future spouse, the ones who really only look the part, and then there are the ones who take this Christianity thing very seriously, the super wannabees. Maybe they even go on a mission trip or teach a Bible study.

In my Christian walk, I admit that a lot of times I am just a wannabee. I can look the part and say all the right things, but deep down the true commitment just isn't there. Wannabees don't ride in the rain or when its too hot or on the weekend. They are constantly trying the new fad product that promises better results with less effort. They are more concerned with how they appear rather than the end result. I know this because I often find myself acting this way.

I don't have the secret answer to solve this problem. I barely know about myself, let alone other people. But there is one thing that I have found that is helpful for me: focus on Christ. When I am focused on Christ, it is impossible to compare myself to others. When my brother's brother-in-law raced along side of Lance Armstrong (or, more correctly, behind and several laps down), he found out just how good he wasn't and how good Lance is. When I am focused on Christ, I can't see the latest and greatest miracle philosophy promising victory and harvest - I see the cross and the ultimate sacrifice. When I am focused on Christ, I see a world in need, not a world of needs. Christ is the ultimate Standard, the ultimate Champion. Nothing nor no one can compare to Him, and it is by His rule that we are to judge our lives. It is this that keeps me humbly aware of my low position along side all of humanity. I am no better than anyone else on this planet, no matter how eloquent or ruggedly good looking I may be. When I am in the company of Christ, I am revealed for what I really am: helpless and weak, tired and poor. There is no mountain stage where I can pull ahead and separate myself from the others. We ae all equally sinful and dirty.

But thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ, we have received all power and majesty and authority under heaven. We can boldly and triumphantly run the race set before us and boldly and confidently come to the throne of Grace. Because of Christ, I am assured a "yellow jersey," a victory lap through the gold streets of Heaven. You know, I don't understand all there is to know about Christ and my salvation, but I surely don't understand how someone can make it through life without the aid of a Savior.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:12-14

Update

I've changed my settings so that all users can leave comments, instead of just registered users. Just a little FYI.

Life in the Terrible Shadow

I read this post by my good friend and quasi-philosopher, Brian Trapp, and just had to post it here. I'm not sure if there is an easier way to reference this, so the post in its entirety is below.

Socrates told us that the unexamined life is not worth living, but the problem with the examined life is that it is lived under a terrible shadow. The shadow is the knowledge of our own finitude, our own limitation as weak, ignorant, and temporal beings. We have a bleary-eyed notion of something greater than ourselves that exists beyond the borders of the world, yet when we grasp for it we find that it is gone. We turn to the wisdom of the philosophers, those farseeing sages who have wrestled with such questions for two millennia, and yet they have nothing to say to us, their arguments over even the basic structure of reality a testimony to their ultimate impotence. We catch a glimpse of an uncertain splendor in the barest corner of our eye, but when we turn our head we see only the grey twilight. We turn to the politicians, who with shameful bombast declare that the light we seek lies just beyond the next wave of political revolution or within the latest social structure, only to discover their words to be as empty as the wind. With unblinking clarity we understand the type of person we ought to be, but find that becoming such a person is like fighting an enemy we cannot see, a phantom version of ourselves with deeper power and greater cunning. Our limitation is blindness. Our failures are emblems of human finitude.

In the light of this uneasy knowledge, what choice do we have for salvation? To whom will we turn for redemption from these awful states? Do we even have the ability to choose rightly? I don't think so. Our only hope is that God will reach into our world, and as Christians we believe that He has done so. He has reached down not only into history in the Incarnation, but He daily reaches into individual lives with the Spirit's transforming power. But even after this is accomplished and we remain in this mortal flesh, many of our own failures and inabilities remain. But now it is different. Now we can cry with Paul, "What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!"

It's a....

Well, Britton had her 18 week appointment today, which included her first ultrasound. And, they tell us that clearly it is a boy! Now we just have to try and decide on a name! Any suggestions?

Hymnal Bypass

The other night, I was trying to remember the title of a hymn that was sung in church. Now, I am not a big fan of singing hymns, but I do appreciate the words and the message of some hymns. So, I asked my wife if she could help me, and we started thinking of all the hymns we knew. My wife then began to sing all of those hymns that we both had sung 4,378,988 times, culminating in a harmonic rendition of "Just As I Am." The first verse went off without a hitch, but the second...the second...well, I'll just type the new "Red Britton Version."


"Just as I am
and waiting not
to rid my soul
of one blod clot..."

Ha-larious. :)

Name It and Claim It, Part 2

I love those police stories about how some witty officers managed to capture wanted criminals by luring them into a waiting "sting" by calling these criminals and informing them that they were the grand prize winner of some sweepstakes. Just as these lawbreakers arrive to claim their "prize," the officers spring from behind the door to escort them away to jail. Well, that is exactly how I would describe the "Name It and Claim It" philosophy. Less than genuine preachers lure people to "Christ" with promises of nothing but prosperity and healing, wealth and power.

I would venture a guess that many of us are quite familiar with the "Name It and Claim It" philosophy. Additionally, I would venture that most would agree in my analysis that this view is very distorted. As Kyle Idelman stated, this philosophy turns God into a "glorified vending machine." Just pick out what you want, believe enough, and PRESTO! Peanut M&M's. Or a new liver. Or $318,000. Or any one of a billion "miracles" for which one could ask.

While much has been said, written, and otherwise opined concerning the downfalls and erroneousness of this belief, what I wish to do has little to do with making one of these arguments. What I propose is a second go at this philosophy - we need a revamped version. This revamped version is simple: Call on Jesus for salvation, and PRESTO! you get to claim all that comes with this salvation. Biblically, this is very sound. Romans 8:17 states that "if we are children, then we are heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory." All we have to do is believe in Christ, and then wait to claim our inheritance! We can claim our glory, our eternal security, our Help and Strength, our healing and honor.

But here is where my message is different. We need likewise to teach people to "claim" our share of the suffering. Oh, yeah! Get you some beatings and public beheadings! Try on some ashes and runny, itchy, burning boils. Get you some lynchings, sickness, wrongful imprisonment, car accidents (Paul would have been driving instead of sailing had the automobile been invented), animal attacks, poverty, and much, much more! Sure, we will receive the crown of glory and more like it some day "up yonder," but today we, like Paul, can expect some good ol' suffering. In his letter to the Thessalonians, Paul stated: "you know quite well that we were destined for [these sufferings]. In fact, when we were with you, we kept telling you that we would be persecuted. And it turned out that way, as you well know." And even JC told us that "anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." And the apostles, after spending years with Jesus, took this message to heart - they claimed their promise! After they were flogged for speaking the name of Jesus, they "left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name." And, again, Paul told the Corinthians that "as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything." Notice how Paul did not commend his ministry to the Corinthians in 3,000 shekel robes and 500 shekel sandals, at huge synagogues or lavish tent meetings, or with great pomp and pageantry.

Yes, I could go on ad infinitum, but I will spare you that. As I look back at the past few months, my first tendency is to have a pity party for myself because of all that has gone wrong. When something goes bad, I want to know why and understand the purpose, and when I don't, I admit that I become upset. But why am I so surprised when things go wrong or when times are tough or when I suffer? After all, most of the time my sufferings are just my harvest of the seeds that I have sown. And even then, I know that my sufferings are but a drop in the bucket to so many other people. However, this is surely not always the case, so what of that? Could it be that God is absent at best or even dead or not who we think He is? Why should we suffer for no reason? Are we mere pawns in this cosmic game of chess between Good and evil?

My point to all of this purely to posit the idea that as Christians, we must change our thinking. We have no problem expecting good things, prosperity and riches, honor and glory. But if ever we were taught that we could expect hardships and tribulation, how soon we forget it! In reading Job, we see the greatest conflict with the problem of evil ever recorded. In Jesus, we see the greatest example of undeserved suffering. And what was the response by Job and Jesus? Job said "My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes." Job could not match the wisdom, knowledge, might, and justice of the Almighty. And what of Jesus? What was his attitude toward his impending hardship? "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done."

I am in no way saying that it is wrong to admit that we don't understand our circumstances or that we should not long to "have the cup pass from us." I am not saying that parents with dying children should find comfort knowing that this is all just "part of the deal." My heart goes out to all those who are afflicted with illness, especially young children and their families. I have never experienced this personally, but I have been in the pediatric intensive care units and the neonatal intensive care units. I have seen little babies with more tubes and wires and lights and alarms than one could imagine their frail bodies could handle. I have seen young children fighting for their life against terminal cancer. I have been in the room where the only sounds are the ventilator, heart monitor, the loud hum of the ultra-HEPA filtration system of the room, and a father's quiet sob. I have waited outside the room while the Priest pronounced the last rites.

Suffering is hard. We often never know why, nor do we understand how God could allow such evil and pain. But one thing I know: I am not alone. No, I do not mean that I have friends, relatives, and fellow Christians with similar stories there to support me. I have the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the First and the Last, the Prince of Peace, the Eternal Creator by my side. It is He who suffered and was tortured and spat upon. He was murdered at the hands of an angry mob. And He was able to call it all off, to free himself from this oppression. But he didn't. He endured all of this for my sake. I can't understand sickness and pain, but even more I can't understand why the God of all the universe would send his Son to die for fallen, sinful me. I can't understand this, but I rejoice in it.

I know that someday I will understand. Someday I will see the plan and the purpose behind the injustices of this world. But more importantly, some day I will be able to say, like Job, "my ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you." It is because of Christ and His ultimate sacrifice that I can endure hardship and trial. It is because I worship a living God, a loving God who identifies with our pain and tears, that I can claim happiness and joy. Even in times of suffering. I am nowhere near those who are able to "rejoice" in times of hardship. I hate it; I hate it when things go wrong. I hate "trials and persecution," not that I know much about either. But I pray that someday I might. And in the mean time, I pray even more that I would be a comforter for those who are hurting and a friend to the outcast and downtrodden. I want to concentrate not on my problems and worries, but on clothing the cold and abandoned children, feeding the starving babies, and bringing water to those who thirst. What is more, bringing Living Water to those who thirst so that they will never thirst again.

As Christians, we need to understand both the love of Christ and the sufferings of Christ. We have to know that with salvation and an eternity in Heaven, we have to endure life on this earth, which is fallen and difficult. I suggest that we look to those less fortunate then us, name their illness, their debt, their frustrations, and then put a claim on shouldering some of that burden. We need to go to where the hurting are. I believe then the world would really see Christ and what it means to be a Christian.

The Miracle of Life...And 3D/4D Ultrasound

Here are two pictures of my young nephew, Cooper Thomaston. I definitely think he looks like Bevin, although he does have Corey's orange glow!

About this Blog

I thought that I would take this opportunity to make a few comments about the blog so far. When I began my postings, I had in mind that I would be writing commentaries on issues and problems from a scholastic Christian point of view. However, as the days and postings continued, I found that I am really not all that interested in debates. I barely keep abreast of the local news, let alone current events and controversies.

Instead, I have noticed that my posts have turned into a "running commentary" on the current events that are my life, from an almost pastoral point of view. By this, I mean that I hope that others can gain insight and encouragement from the lessons that God has taught me. I truly care about people and love helping others, and I pray that somehow the frustrations and hardships and joys and accomplishments will somehow touch others and bring glory to God.

I think my whole experience in finding a job is a good analogy for this. When I first began looking for jobs, I had a decent resume, somewhat of an idea of the next job I wanted to find, and little else. I hadn't interviewed for a job in four years, and even that interview wasn't a "true" interview. However, through trial and error and sheer Divine intervention, I have become quite informed about (and dare I say good at) the whole interview process. I owe part of my new found "savvy" to the help of a recruiter who has been instrumental in preparing me and coaching me in the whole process. Also, I have read several books on resume writing, how to land those sought after positions, etc., being sure to do my part in the whole process.

I think this is the same as how we go through life. We are expected to do things for ourselves, to be always learning. But we also need the assistance of a "life coach." Lessons that we learn from such people are invaluable and potentially help us avert years of regret due to a poor decision. Taking this analogy further, the Christian life is much the same - we are expected to be reliant on God, the Ultimate Coach, always looking to Him for guidance and instruction. Our pastors, other Christian friends, parents, etc. also help to coach us and lead us down the right path. And we are also expected to put our faith into practice. We have to work too; we have to do our part.

And it is thus that I feel that my "musings" and commentaries can somehow help someone going through a similar situation. I hope that I can encourage you to keep going, no matter how dark the path seems. I hope that I can strengthen your faith, even when it seems as though there is little reason to believe. I hope that I can somehow impart some insight (and dare I say wisdom) into the confusion, uncertainty, and turmoil that is your situation. I hope that I can mirror Christ and bring glory to His name, and maybe even help bring someone to faith. Writing does not come easy for me, but if I accomplish any of these things, then it will all be worth it.

I don't know where this blog is heading, much like my life. I only pray that in the end, I will come through it all as pure gold. So, I guess this post reinforces where this all began a month ago...

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
- Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"
© Abbey of Gethsemani

Job Update

Just a quick update on the job hunt. (And I thoroughly understand now why they call it a hunt - I feel as though I should take my shotgun to the next interview!) I met with the Knoxville District Manager on Friday, only to learn that the Knoxville position was no longer open. But the silver lining to this cloud is that there is an opening in the Bowling Green/North Tennessee area. So, it looks like we may be going to Tennessee (just outside of Nashville)! Surprise, Surprise! Another unexpected turn on this windy road. Two months, five interviews, and counting...

Life...The Funniest Joke of All

Unfortunately, this post was censored by my wife, Red Britton. So much for free speech. ;)


The following story is completely true. It is from a good friend of mine who is a physician, and chronicles the adventure that was the last patient of her day. This story is evidence that life truly is a comedy; I crack up every time I read it.

[The story would have gone here.]

Like Jesus?

There is a scene in one of the Harry Potter movies where Harry discovers a magic mirror. What is magic about this mirror is explained by Dumbledore: "What this mirror shows is nothing less than the deepest, strongest desire of a person's heart." In my life, I know that such a mirror would have shown many scenes. When I was younger, maybe a picture of my dad playing with me and letting me know he was proud of me. During High School: a state championship, free beer, a new car, a beautiful girl. College would have been very similar had it not been for Christ. As I look back, it is hard to believe that four years could have been divided by such drastically different goals, dreams, and desires. I traded kegs for communion, partying for praying, and infamous soccer trips for revival and mission trips.
And as I really look back over all those years, I realize that more than anything else, I just wanted to matter. I wanted to mean something, to serve a purpose. I still do. I have very little insight into how best to accomplish this, except to follow Christ. His life mattered more than any other in history, and I suppose that His is an example worth following. And that is exactly where the difficulty lies. He was empty of selfish desires. He had no house. He left all the wealth and comfort of heaven behind. He hung out with outcasts and rejects. He was hated by the very people he came to help. His closest friends let him down. He was called crazy and posessed. He was laughed at and spit upon. He was eventually murdered.
Surely, as Christians we look back at these facts and miss their significance. We fail to appreciate truly how hard it must have been to actually have lived this life. Think about it: what if you were asked to give up all you had, leave your family and travel from town to town, be rejected by most people, have your life threatened by angry mobs, have the very people you were trying to reach plot to kill you, be betrayed by a friend, have your closest friend deny he or she even knows you, and then eventually be executed for crimes you did not commit? Could you handle it?
I don't think I could. I know what it is like to be rejected and to feel betrayed, but not like Jesus. I know what it is like to be made fun of and laughed at, to be different and not accepted, but not like Jesus. I know what it is like to go without and not have all that money could afford, but not like Jesus. I have often thought that I had been wronged, short changed, or treated unfairly, but not like Jesus actually was.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I don't really want to be like Jesus. Sure, I want the blessings, the glory, the place of honor, but without the pain, heartache, or suffering. The deepest, strongest desire of Jesus' heart was to please his Father. That was all that mattered, and that was the driving passion for Christ's life, teachings, and healings. I want that for my own life - to please God by doing His will - but I also want a lot of friends, a nice car (a Black BMW M5, in case anyone wondered), a nice house with a pool and full closets, money in the bank, and immediate confirmation that what I'm doing matters. Of course, the Jesus package doesn't always include such items, and often I find myself more interested in the material things rather than pleasing God. However, I have to admit that as I "grow up" and life begins to take on a different meaning, I am beginning to see the beauty in living for this singular desire. It is not always immediately rewarding, nor is it often easy. But I know that I can do God's will, and that I can endure any hardship, blessing, pain, laughter, joy, and sorrow that God allows. You see, I "do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need" (Hebrews 4:15-16). It is because of this that I press on and crawl forward. I have no idea where my life will go or how it will all play out. I only pray that daily my life would be one that desires God. And I rest in the confidence that there is One who has gone before me, who has endured every thing that I have, and who will be near me giving me the strength to persevere.

Living for Jesus, a life that is true,
Striving to please Him in all that I do;
Yielding allegiance, glad hearted and free,
This is the pathway of blessing for me.

O Jesus, Lord and Savior, I give myself to Thee,
For You, in Your atonement, didst give Thyself for me.
I own no other Master, my heart shall be Your throne.
My life I give, henceforth to live, O Christ, for You alone.

Living for Jesus Who died in my place,
Bearing on Calvary my sin and disgrace;
Such love constrains me to answer His call,
Follow His leading and give Him my all.

Are Philosophers Real People?

I'm not a philosopher. I am a real person. You may now be wondering, what is the difference? Are philosophers real people? No, they are not. Oh, there have been a few real persons who have infiltrated the ranks of such phil-aliens, but at most they were only imposters. Now, I can hear it now: questions of ultimate reality and existence, of the nature of being and knowledge, of presence or absence are now ringing through so many delusional minds. I am not here to debate those topics. I am simply acknowledging the well-known fact that philosophers are not normal. They are different, sometimes exotic creatures that have lived amongst us for thousands of years. Some pseudo-person may rebut, "hath not a philosopher eyes? hath not a philosopher hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?" Descartes had to think about it, and then was only able to conclude that he did. Russell was able to confirm the existence of himself and the present king of France who is bald. "If you prick philosophers, do they not bleed? if you tickle them, do they not laugh? if you poison them, do they not die?" Leibniz proved they do, but not always. So, they must not be fully human.
Lest we fall into Moore's paradox, we will move on, careful not to play any of those language games you Wittgenstein-ians are so fond of. Take note, however: this is no psuedo-problem of the reality (whatever that may be) of those so-called philosopher peoples, brought about by our confusion of language and meaning. Real men know what they mean, irregardless of the sense or reference, Mr. Frege, and they don't play games with their words. They have more sense than that. They have more sense than Derrida, the most un-real of all philosophers, who befuddled us all by stating that "the trace is in fact the absolute origin of sense in general. Which amounts to saying once again that there is no absolute origin of sense in general." Derrida has no sense, in general, and at best has only a slight trace of human in him.
And real people get along and agree. Philosophers never get along and seldom agree. Russell revolted against Hegel, not to be outdone by the logical positivists' later revolt against all of metaphysics. And Pappy Derrida tells us that “we must learn to reread what has been thus confused for us” in talking of all the preceding and contemporary fake-people-philosophers. Well, Derrida, I feel as though we have to learn to re-reread everything you tore apart, to find out your hidden agenda. And even then I'm not sure anything will make sense. And another thing, why should we reread everything because you told us to? Real men give some evidence for the claims they make, Pappy. In the end, I think Mr. J.L. Austin was right: removing Derrida from his usual usage is dangerous. For all the real people reading this, friends don't let friends read Derrida. Leave Derrida for the philaliens. Then, they can deconstruct him, rendering him as harmless as Frege's Basic Law V. If only there were a real person to tell ol' Gottlob that what he meant to say was that a 'concept' F is "small" if the objects falling under F cannot be put in 1-1 correspondence with the universe, that is, if: ¬∃R[R is one-one & ∀x∃y(xRy & Fy)]. Then we could have replaced Law V with the weaker claim, "New V", that a 'concept' F and a 'concept' G have the same 'extension' if, and only if neither F nor G is small or ∀x(Fx ≡ Gx). New V could then be shown to be consistent if second-order arithmetic is and sufficient to allow proofs of the axioms of second-order arithmetic. Rock on Boolos. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
You see, real people don't sit around thinking about such things. Descartes, and all philosophers, think too much and therefore are not. It is exactly like Derrida states: "When the other announces itself as such, it presents itself in the dissimulation of itself." Yeah, take that!
And real people don't make up words and ideas. I guess that makes us "un-originary," Mr. Derrida, but at least we are real. We stick to what is already out there. Plenty of words and ideas to go around. And we kinda like it that way. We really don't want to question everything. I don't care why words have meaning. I have never wondered why there is something rather than nothing. I don't know what time it is on the sun. I don't care about the reality of nature or the nature of reality. I know that I am here, wherever here is. And that I am real, whatever real is. And that I never doubted either of the two.
Thus, in clear-as-Derrida fashion, it is obvious that philosophers are not real, since they are forced to question all of these things. I am sure that some of you will disagree, but you are only philosophers in real-people clothing.

What a Joke...

Not "ha-ha" funny, but a joke nonetheless.

Click Here

EITHER Justice OR Mercy

As humans, I believe it is our natural inclination to take things for granted. I have several glaring examples in mind as I type this, the most recent involving a weeklong bout with Strep Throat. Let's face it: you just forget how wonderful it is to swallow without pain. The first time I can remember taking something for granted was when I was a freshman in High School. While playing soccer (of course!), I quite spectacularly broke both bones in my lower leg. Besides learning the value of actually wearing shin guards, this event taught me a tremendous amount about appreciating life, my body, and so many other small things. Things you don't think about until they are impossible to do: walking, wearing jeans, sitting with your legs crossed, sleeping on your side, taking a shower, scratching an itch, etc., etc., etc. Remarkably, something that happened some 14 years ago still serves to remind me not to take things for granted.
But, of course, I always find myself doing just that. Whether it is my family, my job, my health, my ruddy good looks, or countless other things, I never seem to appreciate all the good, and actually find myself expecting these things to be there always as though I somehow were owed them. The other day I was reading a book, The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul, and realized yet another thing that I take for granted: Mercy. By definition, mercy is "leniency and compassion shown toward offenders by a person or agency charged with administering justice." The 1897 Easton Bible Dictionary states the following:

Mercy is "compassion for the miserable. Its object is misery. By the atoning sacrifice of Christ, a way is open for the exercise of mercy towards the sons of men, in harmony with the demands of truth and righteousness (Gen. 19:19; Ex. 20:6; 34:6, 7; Ps. 85:10; 86:15, 16). In Christ, mercy and truth meet together. Mercy is also a Christian grace (Matt. 5:7; 18:33-35)."

Sproul states that it is human nature to take God's mercy for granted. After awhile, we even expect it. Just look at examples of when mankind received the opposite of mercy: justice. Since God is always just in his judgments, when anyone receives something other than justice, it has to be mercy. Justice is not mercy and mercy is not justice. They are not the same, and you cannot have both together. It is either/or, not both/and. You have either justice or mercy.
Sproul gives the Old Testament examples of Uzzah (cf. 1 Chron. 13:7-11) and the sons of Aaron (cf. Lev. 10) as cases where God's justice was showcased, instead of his mercy. If you remember, Uzzah was killed instantaneously for touching the Ark in an attempt to steady it on the ox cart, and the sons of Aaron were likewise killed for burning a "strange fire" on the altar. We are troubled by such cases because we believe that these people were somehow judged unjustly or too harshly. They didn't deserve the punishment they received.
Sproul further illustrates his point by giving the example (cf. p 111) of ten people, five of whom were shown mercy and five whom were shown justice. Is it wrong for God to show five mercy and five justice? Do all ten deserve mercy? Do any deserve mercy? How soon we forget (i.e. take for granted) that it is God's prerogative to show mercy on whomever he will show mercy. It's his call, and no one has any right to question his mercy. Again, if we were owed mercy, it would not be mercy.
Reading this made me realize just how much I had taken for granted regarding mercy and justice. I ashamedly admit that I expect grace. It is only on those relatively rare occasions when I receive the harvest of my own sowing, when I receive justice, that I truly appreciate mercy. God is a good God. He is full of mercy, compassion, and grace. He is love, so much so that we never fully understand it. But his mercy is not infinite. He is not obligated to show me mercy. With this in mind, my attitudes and actions will be much different. When I stop taking mercy and grace for granted, I am left feeling awe and reverence. I know that I am completely sinful and unworthy before the King of kings, the Holy Creator of the universe. I know that if I were to get what I deserved, it would only be death and punishment. The wages for my work on this earth are death. But thank God, his grace provides the gift of eternal life in Jesus Christ, his Son.
I am left wondering: how different would my life be if I never took God's mercy for granted? How different would our churches be? How different would the world be?

Baby Steps

For anyone trying to overcome an addiction, break a bad habit, solve a problem, or accomplish a goal, the phrase "Baby Steps" is one that is often heard. And rightly so. Too often, I find myself trying to do too much too quickly, which leads to disappointment and discouragement. I have to remind myself that I need to slow down and take "baby steps."
Recently, however, I have learned the true meaning of this phrase, and I owe this breakthrough to my 15 month old daughter. She has been walking now for a little over 4 months, and as I watch her prance back and forth through our house, I am amazed at how far along she has come. Anyone with children will understand what I mean. I remember her first "steps," that promenade around the coffee table, always with one hand securely clutching the edge. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she walked across the room. And then she fell. This pattern has been repeated now for the past 4 months. Walking, followed by falling, followed by more walking, followed by even more falling. At first, it seemed that there was more falling than walking, and at times it was necessary to revert back to crawling. One such instance occurred every time she wanted to walk into the bathroom. Because of the difference in flooring materials, there was a step-up into the bathroom. Nothing big, maybe - and I mean maybe, 1/4 inch. But this obstacle proved to big for this beginner. She would put her hands down in the bathroom, and then her legs would follow in perfect "crab-crawl" fashion. I remember looking at her do this and laughing. I barely ever realized that there was a difference in floor height there; what for me was merely a small bump, was for her a large barrier.
So it is in life. We struggle every day to overcome challenges and break strongholds, challenges that to some may seem insignificant. But to those struggling to find freedom from addiction or relief from a destructive fear or mental affliction, they are mountains. And to cross these mountains, we focus on the finish, on the prize, and set off on our journey taking "baby steps." I used to think that this meant that I was supposed to take small steps - don't expect too much, set small goals, and the like. But I know now that all along I have been missing it. Baby steps are "baby steps" because they are beginning steps. They aren't fancy, they aren't very quick, and they definitely aren't always "good" steps.
But they are determined, purposeful, exciting, and momentous. When my daughter first began walking, she always walked in a straight line. If she wanted to turn, she would stop, face the direction she wanted to go, and then continue. She walked with intent and purpose, her eyes focused on her destination. And we already know about the obstacles - some as big as 1/4 inch steps and some as small as, well, nothing. Sometimes she would fall for no reason at all. She just lost her balance. But I never remember the falls. I know she does, and I can picture in my head what it looks like, but not like I do when I think of her walking. Walking is momentous. It's huge. Even wobbly, unstable, flat-footed steps are an accomplishment. I've never been more proud as when I watch her walk. To see the determination in her face - it is so beautiful.
Of course, I know how to walk backwards. I can walk over and around things. I can walk taking really big steps, or very small steps. I can walk a straight line at the request of a police officer (not that I have ever had to do this). I can walk with my eyes closed. But that's not the point. Too often we get caught up thinking about how someone else would never be struggling with this fear or be having these thoughts. If we were a better person, we would never have fallen into this habit to begin with. God has shown me that we have to look at our problems, our situations, through the eyes of a Father. In overcoming my demons, I can't expect to be jogging or "two-stepping." I can't expect never to fall. I have to realize that sometimes I am just going to loose concentration and fall. Sometimes, I may even have to crawl for awhile until I get back on level ground. But all the while, my Father will be watching. He will be there to pick me up when I need it. He will move mountains that block my path. He will hold my hand when I can't figure out how to get to where I want to go. And all the while, through the walking and the falling, he will be smiling proudly, ever encouraging me to take the next step.

Is it the 4th Yet?

Here are a few offerings to make you smile...

DISORDER IN THE AMERICAN COURTS

These are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.
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ATTORNEY: What is your date of birth?
WITNESS: July 18th.
ATTORNEY: What year?
WITNESS: Every year.
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ATTORNEY: How old is your son, the one living with you?
WITNESS: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which.
ATTORNEY: How long has he lived with you?
WITNESS: Forty-five years.
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ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan.
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ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep,he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
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ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: Uh,he's twenty-one.
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ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Would you repeat the question?
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ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
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ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
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ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.
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ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him!
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ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: But could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere...

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And in honor of Independence Day...

Here are some conversations that the airline passengers don't hear. The following are accounts of actual exchanges between airline pilots and control towers around the world.

A Pan Am 727 flight waiting for start clearance in Munich overheard the following:
Lufthansa (in German): "Ground, what is our start clearance time?"
Ground (in English): "If you want an answer you must speak in English."
Lufthansa (in English): "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?"
Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): "Because you lost the bloody war."

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The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They not only expect one to know one's gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.
Speedbird 206: " Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway."
Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven."
The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.
Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?"
Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now."
Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?"
Speedbird 206 (calmly): "Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark, -- and I didn't land."

Step by Step

This weekend marks the four year anniversary of our move to Louisville. It is actually hard to believe that four years could go by so quickly and bring about so much change. In fact, looking back at our lives and the experiences we have collected, it seems as though it really has been twice as long. We have gone through the proverbial dark valleys and seen the mountain tops. We've been dirt poor and experienced what it's like to have a few extra dollars. There were times when we felt we were on the right path, as well as times when we wondered if there were even a path at all. We've felt hurt and lost sight of the things that matter. We've laughed so hard we cried, and felt the warmth of happiness on our faces. We've experienced the birth of a child. We've chased dreams. We dreamed new ones. We've been humbled and learned to pick up the pieces and live on. The sun has set on heavy hearts, only to bring peace with the sunrise.
I have always believed that it was God's will for us to move here. Even though I haven't always understood His plan and His reasons (and still don't!), I have maintained my trust that this is where He wanted us to be. Just the other day, as I was doing some yard work and listening to my ipod, I began listening to Michael W. Smith's "Worship Again" album. That album holds special significance to me because I'm on it. No, you can't hear me, but I was part of the audience that night as they recorded the live worship CD. The concert took place at Southeast Christian Church just after we had moved. I remember it like it were yesterday. The concert started around 7:00, and people had been waiting in line to get in since early that morning. I and my wife and her sister and my best friend arrived at the church around 5:30 to see a line of people that snaked around the inside of the building several times. Discouraged, we joined the back of the line and began to wait. The doors didn't open for another 30 minutes, which was plenty of time for me to hatch a plan. To make a long story short, I used my cat-like reflexes and opportunistic instincts to secure four seats on the main floor about 10 rows from the stage. It was a thing of beauty, a memory I will cherish forever. But, to return to the point of this story, as I listened to the album, I smiled as I always do when the first song begins: "Hello, Louisville, Kentucky!" And as I was listening and singing along in my head, I realized that it had been four years since we moved and since this concert. And then, in light of all that had happened the past six months, the song took on such poignant significance. The last months have been some of the most difficult and most trying times of my life, and this song spoke to me in such a powerful and encouraging way. As I listened, I felt the presence of Christ.
Through all the pain and hardship, heartache and sorrow, I know that I have grown. Step by step, I have tried to follow the calling of Christ in my life. I have attempted to draw close to Him, and, through it all, I have realized more fully the love of Christ. He has been constant - a rock in times of change and "a firm foundation." He has brought us through the storms, even calming a few when we thought we were going to drown. He has blessed me though I did not deserve it. He has honored my attempts to discern His will and do His work. Though I could not always see Him, He was there. He is here now. Right by my side, comforting, encouraging, strengthening, and healing. He sustains me. He loves me. And that is why I will continue to follow Him. Step by step, wherever He will lead. And forever I will sing.

Oh God, You are my God
Oh God, You are my God
And I will ever praise You

Oh God, You are my God
Oh God, You are my God
And I will ever praise You

I will seek You in the morning
And I will learn to walk in Your ways
And Step by step You'll lead me
And I will follow You all of my days

Halleujah!
We honor you, Lord Jesus
And forever we will sing
Halleujah!
For you alone are worthy
And forever we will sing
Halleujah!
Halleujah!
Halleujah!
Halleujah!