Not so long ago I submitted a post for "Original Faith," another Blog associated with this area of websites. The subject matter was a scriptural view of the gay lifestyle with an emphasis relating to gay marriage. I appreciated the opportunity to post, considering that no one much stops by here. Perhaps someday, but that's not really the point. Anyway...
I pretty much knew the lay of the land when Paul, the host of the website referred to my discussion of gay marriage as "An Opposition View." I have to complement the tenor of the discussion, really. It remained wonderfully civil for the most part. There were even a few people who seemed to agree with me. Not many, but some. And even those who did not kept things pretty cool. I appreciate that. I've been in substantially rougher landscapes. And there were some interesting comments about different views and personal faiths. Every seemed intelligent and thoughtful, and still...
There's a sign at the entrance to the website. It reads: "To participate in thoughtful discussion on religious and spiritual matters, enter the Original Faith blog — where respect for all viewpoints on religion is a spiritual passion." As I said, I found the respect for the most part. I found the thought, as well. But passion?
Picture this: Your in a small boat in the middle of the night. You are rowing hard against the wind, and the waves are splashing over the sides. Your arms are already tire, and you wonder if there is enough left in you to make it to the shore. It's nearly pitch black. No lamp will light; no torch will burn. And then out of the shadowy ways you see something coming toward you. It's a figure that walks on the waves as easily as you or I walk down the path. Now if this is me, I'm convinced by now that what I am seeing is probably the angel of death coming to take me out of the boat, or maybe it will wait until I fall into the sea and drown, and then it will pick up the pieces. And even when you hear a familiar voice saying "Do not be afraid!" I'm still probably face down at the bottom of the boat, crying and praying and who knows what else.
And then I hear a second voice. Maybe it isn't as calm as the first, but it's loud enough. It's saying "Lord, if that's really you, order me to come out on the water to you." And I'm thinking "Is this guy nuts?" But the Lord answers "Come!" and next thing you know the boat is rocking because someone is getting out and heading into the waves.
It wasn't much of a trip, but there has never been another one like it. Think about it: In the midst of the wind and waves, already in danger, what does Peter do? He doesn't just say "Lord, allow me to do the impossible" or "Lord, enable me to do the impossible." He says "Lord, order me to do the impossible!" In the face of fear and maybe death, Peter, arguably the biggest screw-up of all the apostles, is saying he wants the Lord to give him an impossible job.
That's a passion for faith. That's the kind of faith I want to have - a faith that faces everything, and still wants more to do. It's a faith that is bold, that proclaims right up to the end. Or at least until I start sinking up to my neck.
That was what was missing during most of the discussion. The person I read with the most passion was the person that seemed to have no real faith at all. Most of the rest was...bland. There was philosophy and spirituality and lots of opinion, but was there faith? People looked within themselves for belief. It was a spirituality that asked for nothing and promised nothing. It might give personal comfort, but would it spread? Would it empower? Would it build anything that would last? Was it faith?
Not a faith that I could see.
There's a passage in the scriptures around the commandments that is translated that the Lord God is a "jealous" God. A better translation, more exact translation, is the Lord God burns passionately for you. He burns for a relationship with you so that you will know him and fellowship with him. And the fellowship will change everything about you. And it will last forever.
That's the faith I want. That's the passion I seek. And that's the journey I try to continue each day. I've seen a small peak of heaven. I won't turn back again.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
If Jesus is appalled, then...what?
There seems to be a great deal of consternation across the web for a certain political candidate taking the position that certain facts of life in America would "appall" Jesus. Considering the conditions mentioned include indifference to the poor and an over emphasis on self, I would not be surprised if Jesus were indeed "appalled." (There were also references about "going to war unnecessarily" which begs the question "Was it necessary?" Another time on that one.) As a conservative Christian, I can't really say that I find anything un-Biblical about the idea. If we accept that notion, however, a more important point becomes "What do we do about it?"
From what I read later in the posting, Edwards seemed to advocate things like government provided health coverage, public assistance, etc. All of this would be financed by the tax payers. There was never any reference, to the best of my knowledge, claiming this is what Jesus would do. Nevertheless, I think since Christ was used for the question, he should be referenced in the answer, at least as much as possible. Accepting Christ as God incarnate, I certainly do not want to take responsibility for speaking for him. I do think that we can use the history provided though for some educated interpretations.
Christ was certainly no stranger to taxes, or tax collectors for that matter. His disciple Matthew was a tax collector prior to leaving to become one of Christ's disciples. Jesus attended a party at Matthew's home for tax collectors, and later declared a tax collector, Zacchaeus, as one of the lost sons of Israel that he came for. Jesus told Peter to pay the temple tax, and one of the favorite lines I hear quoted with regards to taxation begins "Give unto Caesar what is Caesar's..." I find it very revealing that the second part, "and give unto God what is God's," is seldom included.
At the time of that writing, in that setting, the tax system of the Romans in Judea had little to do with Benevolence. It was a method of finance for Rome's interest. I'm sure that Jesus could have dictated any number of books on the subject should he have chosen to do so. He did not. On the other hand, charity was a matter for the church. In addition to the tithe to be collected for the maintenance of the temple and the priests, there was supposed to be an additional tithe, or ten percent, for poor Jews under Mosaic Law. There was a third tithe to be given over a three-year period, or three and a third percent per year, for the purpose of subsidizing poor gentiles in the land. These would have been a matter for the priests, and not the politicians.
Sadly, many of the religious leaders of the time seemed more interested in lining their own pockets than taking care of the poor. The gospel writers make it pretty clear that poverty and illness were common in the land. Yet Christ did not appeal to the priests or the government. When Peter told Jesus they needed to send the people away to get food, Christ's response was immediate and personal: "You give them something to eat." His was a message of returning to God and personal holiness. When Zacchaeus the tax collector met Jesus and received salvation, his response was not to tax people to help the poor. Instead, he gave half of his wealth to the poor, and returned all of the money that he had wrongly taken many times over.
Don't get me wrong. I certainly believe that we are called to help the poor, and to generosity of all kinds. I simply don't believe that the tax code is the best way to do that. Taxes collected for one thing have a habit of ending up elsewhere, with very little accountability. I heard somewhere a while ago that less than 30% of the money collected for "the poor" actually makes it there. The rest is lost in government overhead and bureaucracy. I also find it hard to associate taxes with charity. Charity, by it's very nature, is freely given. The scriptures say that "God loves a cheerful giver." Not a lot is mentioned about tax payers.
If we do want to help the poor, then I think we owe it to them, and ourselves, to do it the best way possible. Let's restore charity to the public square, free from coercion and resentment, and let government do the things it can do best.
From what I read later in the posting, Edwards seemed to advocate things like government provided health coverage, public assistance, etc. All of this would be financed by the tax payers. There was never any reference, to the best of my knowledge, claiming this is what Jesus would do. Nevertheless, I think since Christ was used for the question, he should be referenced in the answer, at least as much as possible. Accepting Christ as God incarnate, I certainly do not want to take responsibility for speaking for him. I do think that we can use the history provided though for some educated interpretations.
Christ was certainly no stranger to taxes, or tax collectors for that matter. His disciple Matthew was a tax collector prior to leaving to become one of Christ's disciples. Jesus attended a party at Matthew's home for tax collectors, and later declared a tax collector, Zacchaeus, as one of the lost sons of Israel that he came for. Jesus told Peter to pay the temple tax, and one of the favorite lines I hear quoted with regards to taxation begins "Give unto Caesar what is Caesar's..." I find it very revealing that the second part, "and give unto God what is God's," is seldom included.
At the time of that writing, in that setting, the tax system of the Romans in Judea had little to do with Benevolence. It was a method of finance for Rome's interest. I'm sure that Jesus could have dictated any number of books on the subject should he have chosen to do so. He did not. On the other hand, charity was a matter for the church. In addition to the tithe to be collected for the maintenance of the temple and the priests, there was supposed to be an additional tithe, or ten percent, for poor Jews under Mosaic Law. There was a third tithe to be given over a three-year period, or three and a third percent per year, for the purpose of subsidizing poor gentiles in the land. These would have been a matter for the priests, and not the politicians.
Sadly, many of the religious leaders of the time seemed more interested in lining their own pockets than taking care of the poor. The gospel writers make it pretty clear that poverty and illness were common in the land. Yet Christ did not appeal to the priests or the government. When Peter told Jesus they needed to send the people away to get food, Christ's response was immediate and personal: "You give them something to eat." His was a message of returning to God and personal holiness. When Zacchaeus the tax collector met Jesus and received salvation, his response was not to tax people to help the poor. Instead, he gave half of his wealth to the poor, and returned all of the money that he had wrongly taken many times over.
Don't get me wrong. I certainly believe that we are called to help the poor, and to generosity of all kinds. I simply don't believe that the tax code is the best way to do that. Taxes collected for one thing have a habit of ending up elsewhere, with very little accountability. I heard somewhere a while ago that less than 30% of the money collected for "the poor" actually makes it there. The rest is lost in government overhead and bureaucracy. I also find it hard to associate taxes with charity. Charity, by it's very nature, is freely given. The scriptures say that "God loves a cheerful giver." Not a lot is mentioned about tax payers.
If we do want to help the poor, then I think we owe it to them, and ourselves, to do it the best way possible. Let's restore charity to the public square, free from coercion and resentment, and let government do the things it can do best.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
The Lady Takes a Fall (or does she?)
I have to admit that I'm saddened by all of the bru-ha-ha about Ann Coulter's comments towards John Edwards. Not surprised, really, but saddened. I'm saddened that the comment was made. Sad that the media gave it so much attention. I'm very sad that it seems to be a rallying point for so many with axes to grind.
I think that the lady (perhaps a qualified term) explained it best herself. She acknowledged that it was a juvenile taunt at someone she wanted to insult. Once upon a time, that might have been the end of it. That was an older day, when our parents tried to teach us not to fear words. We've now arrived at the point where politics may be local, but snippy remarks can go global in a heart beat. If this is supposed to be a more civilized era, I can't say I understand why.
I'm not going to defend an insult. I try to avoid them myself, but I don't much like confrontation. I also prefer to be polite. Having said that, it seems pretty ridiculous to me that so many people are getting upset about this. If people stopped airing the comments, they'd die out soon enough. As it is, I guess we'll be treated to media outrage for quite a while.
I was amused however at some of the comments directed toward Ms. Coulter. There were claims that she was getting her due, or just desserts, or some such thing. I read snickers as assumed conservatives apologized for or denounced her words. "Thrown under the bus," was in at least one blog. "Sniveling" appeared in another. I didn't hear what any of the Republicans said about her, but I read Ms. Coulter's statement. The sniveling escaped me. Like her or hate her, there's a l0t of steel in that woman. She's smart enough to know that the best way to let yourself be destroyed these days is to apologize to the media circus. It did in Trent Lott. It did in Larry Summers. For anyone that might lean conservative these days, there is no upside to an apology. Better to ride it out.
And she will. I've read a fair portion of Ms. Coulter's work. She dishes it out, but she's shown that she can take it as well. She realizes that words have power, yes, but only the power we give them. And that's why she'll survive long after the apologizer's have disappeared.
I think that the lady (perhaps a qualified term) explained it best herself. She acknowledged that it was a juvenile taunt at someone she wanted to insult. Once upon a time, that might have been the end of it. That was an older day, when our parents tried to teach us not to fear words. We've now arrived at the point where politics may be local, but snippy remarks can go global in a heart beat. If this is supposed to be a more civilized era, I can't say I understand why.
I'm not going to defend an insult. I try to avoid them myself, but I don't much like confrontation. I also prefer to be polite. Having said that, it seems pretty ridiculous to me that so many people are getting upset about this. If people stopped airing the comments, they'd die out soon enough. As it is, I guess we'll be treated to media outrage for quite a while.
I was amused however at some of the comments directed toward Ms. Coulter. There were claims that she was getting her due, or just desserts, or some such thing. I read snickers as assumed conservatives apologized for or denounced her words. "Thrown under the bus," was in at least one blog. "Sniveling" appeared in another. I didn't hear what any of the Republicans said about her, but I read Ms. Coulter's statement. The sniveling escaped me. Like her or hate her, there's a l0t of steel in that woman. She's smart enough to know that the best way to let yourself be destroyed these days is to apologize to the media circus. It did in Trent Lott. It did in Larry Summers. For anyone that might lean conservative these days, there is no upside to an apology. Better to ride it out.
And she will. I've read a fair portion of Ms. Coulter's work. She dishes it out, but she's shown that she can take it as well. She realizes that words have power, yes, but only the power we give them. And that's why she'll survive long after the apologizer's have disappeared.
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