Are We Talking About the Same Religion Here?

How is it that hardly any major religion has looked at science and concluded, 'This is better than we thought! The Universe is much bigger than our prophets said, grander, more subtle, more elegant'? Instead they say, 'No, no, no! My god is a little god, and I want him to stay that way.' A religion, old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the Universe as revealed by modern science might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths.
--Carl Sagan

So maybe it's just me being dumb (I'm sure Carl Sagan is much smarter than an 11th grader who can barely pass an introductory chemistry course), but this quote completely bewilders me. Who did this man talk to, what did he read, which behavior did he observe, that gave him this impression of religion? Christianity, for example, is "a religion...that stress[es] the magnificence of the Universe as revealed by modern science". A Christian is fully free to look at a single-celled organism, or a star, or a tree, or a fellow human and say "wow, that is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen".

Religions like Christianity prefer a little God? I'm sorry, but this is simply false, even from the perspective of a dedicated atheist. If a Christian observes and accepts the complex scientific structure of the universe (which is a perfectly logical thing for anyone to do), and if he in fact believes that God constructed this complex scientific structure from nothing and out of his own head, so to speak, then that Christian is most certainly believing in a God of the greatest possible sort. Even a non-believer like Sagan must acknowledge this. A God that conceived and created the universe in its stunning detail and perfection of structure must be unimaginably great and powerful. Therefore, it makes more sense to accuse Christians of, if anything, giving God too much credit, not too little.

The discoveries of modern science--and note I am speaking here of discoveries, not theories like evolution which I will get to later--make no threat whatsoever to the Christian position on the nature of the universe. Sagan seems to be writing of a conflict that does not exist. No Christian, at least that I know of, is observing the internal structure of a bacterium or the chemical makeup of the atmosphere of Jupiter or the navigation techniques of a particular butterfly and decrying these things as being against their view of God. So on this level, Sagan is countering an argument that was never made.

Of course there is still the matter of something like evolution, which could very well be what Sagan is referring to here--under the surface of everything else. From Sagan's point of view, it could look something like this: scientists come up with this very elegant system of natural selection and so on that has eventually produced every living species of which we know, and Christians are rejecting this and moaning on about how God couldn't possibly have anything to do with evolution. Well, let us consider this. Modern science has not "revealed" evolution the way it has "revealed" the structure of a molecule. So Christians are free to respond differently to evolution than to actual scientific discoveries. This is the distinction, the disambiguation, that must be made, and which I don't think Sagan makes. Anyway, everyone reading this, I'm sure, has already heard about the strong evidence against evolution, and the shaky evidence for it. I'm not going to go into all that here. All I am going to say is that I do not understand how viewing the world and all it contains as a series of random molecular accidents can be more magnificent, more subtle, more elegant than the idea that the world is a grand plan created by a masterful, all-seeing God. Completely regardless of whether or not either of these ideas is true or false, they must be fairly compared. And one does not seem smaller in scope than the other.

I'll conclude with an interesting theory I very recently read in my history curriculum on the subject of Galileo. Basically, the universe was created by God and exists as a witness to his glory. Therefore, those who look at science from a non-Christian perspective will be unable to ascertain its true nature, rather remaining stuck in purely technological achievements or in incorrect theories. Consider how all the "advanced" (and pagan) civilizations of the ancient world were advanced only through their technological achievements (architecture, calendars, medicine, etc.). They did not understand the actual nature of the universe. Then, those from these cultures who attempted to understand the nature of things came up with only incorrect theorems (think Aristotle, who thought Earth was at the center of the universe with all the other heavenly bodies suspended and circling it). Galileo--a Christian--was one of the first people who was able to discover the nature of the universe as it actually is, and to build a Christian foundation for science. I don't know if this theory is accurate or not--no one can know something like that--but it is certainly something interesting to think about, and lends a whole new element to Sagan's ideas. What if the religious people were actually the ones who discovered "the magnificence of the Universe as revealed by modern science"?

So there are my thoughts on that. Tomorrow, I hope to write more about Don Miller, having finished "Blue Like Jazz". I think it's fascinating how people both across the country and in this English class are responding to the book. So tune in tomorrow for my own response.

Missing: One Escaped Creativity

It's a tragedy really. I forgot to lock my window one night, and when I woke up in the morning, he was gone.

My creativity has run away, and I'm currently trying to run him down and bring him back. I don't necessarily blame him...I am facing the prospect of several hours of free time this week in which I hoped to exercise him every moment. I don't think he likes to work very hard, which could be why he bolted. Right when I need him most

So anyway, I'm on the hunt for my creativity. Word has it he was seen almost perishing of malnutrition in mid-Nebraska, was rescued, and said that he was hitchhiking to Chicago. Occasionally he sends me postcards (no return address), with very unhelpful large ideas on them. He hates coming up with simple ideas--which is what I needed him to do. He's also mad at me because I lost the Patrick Henry short story contest, and to add insult to injury I told him that the winners' ideas were better than his anyway. So now he's gone and he refuses to come back. I must admit, I'm starting to miss him. The next step is to try luring him home with some music or a good book--or maybe some chocolate.

If you happen to see him, please try to apprehend him and let me know. He answers to "Bill", and you can keep him in a shoebox. Feed him a couple of good movies a day and he should stay perfectly healthy until I can come and pick him up. Be warned: he likes to talk a lot--and most of it is nonsense. Just ignore him, and you should do fine. There may even be a reward for whoever finds him. If you live too far away, you can ship him to Colorado (no need to pay extra for first class). Just make sure you poke some airholes in the lid.

How Christian is Christian?

Well, I apologize in advance. This post has a lot of questions in it, without very many answers. It’s really just me thinking out loud—and I don’t know all the answers (surprise, surprise – or not). And another note: You will probably wonder why I blank out a letter in “cr-p” throughout this post. I don’t consider it a dastardly swear word or anything like that...I’m just writing it that way because I want to respect anyone who might be offended by the word. So that’s the reasoning behind that.

Anyway, let’s begin:

As a homeschooler, I have been raised as a very “Christian” Christian. I’ve mainly associated with the people whose iPods are loaded entirely with Chris Tomlin, who think “heck” is a swear word, who turn the lights off and sing praise songs on Halloween night, who get Vision Forum catalogues in the mail, who have never seen R-rated movies, and who unconsciously categorize smoking among the mortal sins. And I am right there with them (minus the heck, Halloween, and Tomlin parts). So please, please don't get offended and think I'm trying to insult anyone with those comments--it's just a illustration which I would lay upon myself as well. Anyway, until relatively recently, I had no idea that I—or we, or whatever—was rather a “foreign species”. Even (and this is the oddest part) to other Christians.

This all became rather more interesting when I first realized that there are “other” Christians out there. First, I met some in person. They never listen to Chris Tomlin. They say “cr-p”. They watch horror movies on Halloween. They have drunk alcoholic beverages before in their lives (as adults). They are also some of the nicest, kindest, most generous people I have ever met. And they are Christians.

Next, I read about Don Miller. He is writing about spiritual revolutions and revelations—inspiring others in their spiritual lives. None of the singers he listened to while writing the book were Christian. He writes about being selfish and sinful. About doing drugs and getting drunk. About having relational issues. About feeling like Hitler. He also says “cr-p”. His book has spiritually impacted me.

I don’t like reading Christian living books. I’ve worked through three “godly young woman” books by chipper, perfect Christian Elizabeth George. I’ve gotten nothing out of them. Half a book by Don Miller has revolutionized my thinking—not to go out and get drunk or something, but to have a better relationship with God.

So where does that put us? As I said in my title, how Christian is Christian? Which behavioral standards are necessary to being a good Christian? Obviously, Biblical standards...but what about the “extra” stuff that the Bible doesn’t really go in to? Is it possible to be too Christian? Is it possible to be not Christian enough? And how do you tell? I mean, is it superficial behaviors that matter? Is it heart attitudes? Is it both? I’m not trying to say that someone like Elizabeth George or Vision Forum is a bad Christian. I’m also not trying to say that Don Miller or the other people I know are bad Christians. I’m just observing that the behavioral standards I took for granted are not universal among Christians. Which is interesting and hard but not all bad. My saying all this will probably also make people think “uh-oh, she’s going to rebel. She’s going to start behaving all badly and say it’s ok...” No worries, friends. I have taken about 95% or more of the behavioral standards I was raised with, and personalized them, so that they have gone from rules to obey to my own convictions and standards for myself. I’m not going to drink, smoke, say bad words, etc. Those are things that I could not and will not do out of personal conviction. However, I’m also not going to judge someone else’s spirituality on whether or not they do those things. If someone is directly disobeying one of God’s explicit commands and doesn’t care, then that’s an issue. But it’s important to remember which are God’s commands and which are “extra” commands which may be important to us but must not be used as the basis for judging others. And this works the other way. Others who don’t share my standards shouldn’t judge me for sticking to them.

So there are my thoughts for the day. For being such a long ride, I don’t really feel like we got anywhere. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about—and if you choose to read this blog, then that’s what you get to be subjected to =)...

A Startling Gospel Revealed

So before your begin to read please know that this certainly has to do with the English reading assignments for the week...it just takes me a while to get there.

My Bible study/small group has recently been reading a book by my pastor (“Good News for Those Trying Harder” by Alan Kraft), in which he explains how to stop “trying harder” at your spiritual life and instead interact with the gospel. In this book, he remarked that every Christian ought to “have the gospel preached to them every day”. One of the girls reasonably responded with—wouldn’t that get boring pretty fast? If hearing the gospel every day is a matter of reading Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John over and over and over and over, then yes, I imagine it would become extremely boring. As our study chewed on this idea, I felt in my spirit that something was missing. The gospel cannot simply be a physical account, a story which we know by heart, a page in a Bible, a sermon illustration. These things can catch our eye for only a moment before we pass on to more vibrant things—but the gospel...the gospel can renew lives, can complete souls. What it was—what the author of “Good News” was referring to—had to be, I said, what one might call “the living gospel”. The other members of the Bible study regarded me rather blankly. What do you mean by “living gospel”? What’s that?

Well, the gospel is alive, isn’t it? I don’t simply mean that once upon a time it was lived out—I mean, of course God lives, and Jesus lived and died and lived again, and everyone in the gospel accounts once lived. This is the obvious element, but perhaps it is the first idea one must get one’s heart around. I am a great believer in the idea that if one can breathe life into the characters of the gospel story, one can vicariously experience a three-dimensional gospel. One can get into the emotions and humanity of the gospel. This is perhaps interesting and beneficial, but it is not what I meant by a living gospel.

Let me try again to explain. The gospel is huge, thundering, and perfect. Its glory is that of God himself. If someone can wrap his or her mind around the full scope of the gospel, its horror and wonder, he can then catch some idea, perhaps, of a living gospel. Trying to illustrate what I mean: imagine that reading the Bible is like reading a biology textbook. Just as this textbook outlines the organs and chemicals and processes that work together to make up an amazing whole (a human being, in this case), so the Biblical gospel accounts outline the pieces, parts, and events that together create an amazing whole (the gospel). But reading in a textbook is nothing to actually looking at a human being—seeing the amazing intricacy of biological processes, only this time standing before you alive. Now say when you are singing in church, perhaps, or praying at home, and you are overwhelmed with emotion, you are worshipping God and maybe crying or raising your hands or kneeling or just sitting still, you are encountering the living gospel. It has brought the Bible story to life, just as a human being brings a biology textbook to life. But the gospel accounts are still important because you cannot fully appreciate the wonder of a human life unless you have first read the textbook.

It seems that reading “The Reason for God” by Tim Keller, and reading “Blue Like Jazz” by Don Miller can serve as an illustration of the scope of the living gospel. Keller, as a logical man with a logical argument to make, can approach the gospel and find it watertight against the most difficult attacks of human reason. The gospel is infallible, a man like Keller has no trouble defending it—but maybe he is biased, maybe he is trying too hard. Then we have only to look at C.S. Lewis before his conversion—a committed atheist who approached the gospel with cold logic and truth...and found more logic there than even in his atheism.

But on the other hand, the gospel completely defies logic, as can be seen clearly in Miller’s book. Miller, as a highly emotional and artistic person, was drawn into the gospel via a road that has nothing to do with logic, but with a filling of the emotional deficits in his soul. His gospel—as he illustrates—was one that would crawl into the dark where he was hiding and whisper to him until he was ready to get up and follow it.

So the gospel is alive. It can stand up and defend itself in a theological debate. It can follow us deep into our own darkness. It can wait patiently for a thousand years like a flower in the desert. It pursues us, woos us, and wins us if we but respond to it. So the wonder of the living gospel lies in how we are depraved and yet the gospel reaches out to us. It is a revolutionary concept that can never grow old or dull—a living gospel.

Thrillingness of New Vocabulary

lachrymose - Weeping or inclined to weep; causing or tending to cause tears

littoral - A coastal region; a shore

thurible - A censer used in certain ecclesiastical ceremonies or liturgies

adumbrate - To give a sketchy outline of; to disclose partially or guardedly

fugacious - Passing away quickly; evanescent

mendicant - Depending on alms for a living; practicing begging

Making History

What's next? Well...we'll just have to wait and see.

(click here to view)

Matt Davies Journal News Jan 20, 2009 EditorialCartoonists.com

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Matt Wuerker Politico.com Jan 20, 2009 EditorialCartoonists.com

(click here to view)

Bob Gorrell Creators Syndicate Inc. Jan 20, 2009 EditorialCartoonists.com

When Historical Fiction Isn't

Recently, I was made to confront the complications of writing historical fiction. This genre has long been disputed by many groups...If you think about it, the name itself embodies a self-contradiction. Something cannot be both history and fiction--can it? In this difficulty, writers tend to survey their subject and select a point somewhere between fact and fiction. Some, like G.A. Henty focus on pure history, bothering only enough with fiction to set up a simple, formulaic story framework to keep readers engaged. On the other end of the spectrum, books like Elizabeth Pope's "The Perilous Gard" or Twain's "Prince and the Pauper" delve so deep into fiction that they maintain only one or two historical figures to give the story a sense of place. Is any of this right or wrong? It depends. Why am I even talking about this? Let's back up a bit.

One of my greatest historical fascinations is with the twelve apostles of Jesus Christ: Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Nathanael (or Bartholemew), Matthew, Thomas, Thaddeus, Judas, Simon the Zealot, and James the Lesser. The fact that I typed that list from memory should serve as some proof of my fairly serious studying of these guys... In fact, over the past few years I have been laboring away at writing a book about them--not in the style of the Christian non-fiction "better living" book entitled "Twelve Ordinary Men"--but in a style that must by necessity be called historical fiction. In other words, it is a fictional account of the life of Jesus from the perspective of the twelve apostles. What do I mean by fictional? Do I mean the whole thing is pure fabrication? No. Here's where the self-contradiction comes in.

I have studied the gospel accounts to the extent that I am working on compiling a list of every recorded word spoken by any of the apostles. I have researched things like food and boats.
History.

I do not know why Thomas doubted Jesus. I do not know why Judas betrayed him. I don't know what foods Peter didn't like. I don't know anything about some of the lesser apostles. But I've put it in there.
Fiction.

All of this came to the forefront the other day in my PowerPoint class, of all places. A long time ago I had created a PowerPoint presentation based off of my story, including pictures and quotes representing each apostle. The creative-type people who watched this were all excited and moved. Others greeted it with neutrality. My PowerPoint teacher (being the highly scientific computer-science major that he was) responded uncertainly. How much of this had I made up? (Most of it) How much church lore had I studied? (None) How accurate was this? (I had no idea)

Historical fiction for kids (and most adult-oriented stuff as well), is focused on portraying a historical event or time through the eyes of fictional characters. A much smaller percentage takes a different approach: portraying a historical event or time through the eyes of a historical character. This defines my story, and this technique drives practical people up the wall. They read "The Killer Angels" by Michael Shaara and groan this isn't accurate! You can't know what General Robert E. Lee was thinking as he ordered Pickett's charge! True. But in this moment, historical fiction passes beyond "history" or "fiction" and into a sort of delicate psychology. If you have ever written this way, you will know what I mean. Unlike most historical fiction, books like "The Killer Angels", books like "The Once and Future King", books even like my apostle story, are formulated as a few fenceposts of solid, indisputable fact, strung together with strange, delicate, but educated guesswork. People who are deeply intuitive seem to do well with this.

It's something that you can't research. It's empathy. Sensitivity. Connection. Psychology. Common sense. It's a complete demolition of stereotypes. It involves giving a historical figure back his humanity. If you can figure it out, then it stops being work. The character speaks through you.

"The Killer Angels" and "The Once and Future King" are examples of this technique in its perfected form. The facts they portray are solid and true, their characters are unforgettable in their tragic, humorous depth. If I could achieve that in my own work, I would count myself blessed. It's not about offering facts about historical figures; it's about getting at the reader's heart and making him stop, and struggle with the solemn humanity of those in the past.

Later, if anyone is interested, I might post some examples, both from the above-mentioned works and my own writing.

Completely off-topic:
First vocabulary word of the New Year!
Abrogate ~ To abolish, do away with, or annul, especially by authority