On Creeds and Orthodoxy

It's Sunday and I generally try to do something ... uplifting on Sunday. But this is so closely related to church (the Sunday morning one on the corner kind) that I think I have to do it today. Besides, it's so closely connected to conversations and posts of late.

Isn't it interesting that I just wrote this piece on "Useless Creeds which wasn't actually about creeds being useless, but about how ignoring them is dangerous), and then I see this article about a book that traces the origins of American atheism to the American disregard of creeds and orthodoxy and this post from Reason to Stand on the subject of a study of the decline of the Church in America that concludes that "the single best predictor of church participation turned out to be belief – orthodox Christian belief ...". It appears that churches that preach orthodoxy -- that there is a right way of thinking, a true doctrine, and the rest is false -- do much better than those who don't.

Much of American Christianity is more interested in "right living" rather than correct doctrine, more interested in "getting along" and "tolerance" than orthodoxy ("right thinking"). Apparently that is a problem.

1/1/11

Doesn't get much cleaner than that, does it? "1/1/11"

Of course, it's more important to me than a numerical sequence. You see, I have a lot of problems remembering dates. I have a friend who recently celebrated -- as he does every year -- the date that he proposed to his wife. They have a tradition over that date. Me? Neither my wife nor I can remember the date ... the day ... the month. I'm pretty sure of the year. So I keep lists of anniversaries and birthdays and all because I'm just no good at remembering that stuff.

But this one I get every year. This one I get even if it's "1/1/10" or "1/1/05". This one I get every year because I intentionally chose "1/1" as something I could easily remember. The part that follows, "/xx", is significant of course, but only insofar as it counts from "/93". That's because 1/1/93 was the year I married my beloved wife.

So today is the 18th year of my being an apparent oxymoron -- "happily married". I say that because I love my wife and could not imagine a better wife for me. So without a whole lot of effort I can remember that the first day of every year is the anniversary of the day that I married my best friend, the best gift God ever gave to me after His Son. Oh, and that makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, the anniversary of my marriage follows the celebration of His birth. Well, I like it, even if you find it corny. As for my wife? Oh, I love her ... every year, a bit more.

Resolution

Word origins can be fascinating to me. So when I looked at the word, "resolution", I wondered, "Is there a 'solution' in 'resolution'?" And I was right; there was. But that was only the beginning.

Resolution - n - the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc. Thanks, Mr. Dictionary. "Resolution" is the act of resolving. Nice. Then I read of the origin, "1350–1400; ME < L resolūtiōn- (s. of resolūtiō ), equiv. to resolūt ( us ) resolute."

Okay, so, resolute - adj - firmly resolved; set in purpose or opinion. I was about to take a swing at Mr. Dictionary again. Seriously ... "firmly resolved" is a definition of "resolute". But, okay, "set in purpose" is better. Thanks. Then the origin caught my eye. "1375–1425 for earlier sense 'dissolved'; 1525–35 for current senses; late ME < L resolūtus, ptp. of resolvere to resolve." "Dissolved"? What's up with that?

So I looked at "resolve". Resolve - v - 1. to come to a definite decision, to determine. 2. to separate into constituent or elementary parts. Oh, now that's interesting. And the origin gives similar insight. "1325–75; ME resolven (v.) < L resolvere to unfasten, loosen, release, equiv. to re- re- + solvere to loosen; see solve." To unfasten or loosen? Hmmm. See "solve". That, you see, was the original question, wasn't it?

So, solve - v - to find the answer or explanation for. (Yeah, like that was news. But wait!) The origin? "1400–50; late ME solven < L solvere to loosen, free, release, dissolve." Okay, you see? Here's the idea. You take a problem, you break it down into its smallest parts, and you figure out how it goes together. You figure out what's wrong and you fix it. You don't band-aid it. You don't patch it. You find what's really wrong and you fix it.

New Year's resolutions rarely work. While some 52% of us make New Year's resolutions, only 12% of us actually achieve them. Not that there isn't value in them. I mean, clearly setting goals is the only way to actually achieve goals. Or, as we all know, 100% of us who did not make any resolutions last year achieved none of them ... or all of them. But the real problem, I think, is our failure to comprehend the nature of "resolutions". The idea is to break down the problems of life into its smallest parts, figure out what's wrong, and find a solution. The solution is likely not a commitment to quit smoking or to lose weight this year. The problem is much deeper, and so is the solution. And "solution" is the whole idea behind "resolution".

If you want to see some genuine resolutions, see what Jonathan Edwards resolved. More than making simple "get a better job", "go back to school", or "travel" resolutions (which, I would suggest, are not solutions), Edwards opted for serious choices starting with "I will do whatsoever I think to be most to God's glory." Edwards has, in fact, 70 resolutions on his list, and he begins with a note to self: "Remember to read over these Resolutions once a week." Edwards, you see, was looking to solve life's big problems -- his sinful self.

How about you? Making any resolutions this year? Do you expect them to actually be solutions, or just something to make you feel better? Do you expect to achieve it? How?

Insufficient Evidence

It has been suggested by many that the only effective method of preaching the Gospel to the unsaved is via apologetics, the rational defense of Christian doctrine. Now, of course, there is some truth to that. I mean, it is circular. The only way to preach the Gospel is to preach it rationally. Sure. But that's not what's in mind here. The idea here is that the only way to preach the Gospel to the unsaved is to approach the truth neutrally -- without the presupposition that Scripture is true -- and defend the faith via secular means. Authoritative declarations like "Thus saith the Lord" or, more likely, "The Bible says" aren't going to cut it. You have to explain rationally and evidentially why it's true without the use of the Bible because, after all, unbelievers ... don't believe. If they don't accept the Bible as authoritative, making authoritative claims from the Bible is useless. And, in a "secular" world, that would make sense. That is, if we are talking about a world where the five senses provide all the input and the mind is all there is, then that's what you have to deal with.

There are a couple of problems here. First is the historical problem. The Gospel of John, for instance, is full of what you and I would call "miracles" but what John calls "signs". The miracles are signs because they served as evidence of the truth claims of Christ. So Nicodemus said, "No one can do these signs that You do unless God is with him." That was the idea. Miracles proved who Jesus was. I've heard this multiple times from skeptics. "If God would do a miracle in front of me, I'd believe." Well, you'd think that was the case, but it wasn't so, was it? In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to warn his brothers. Abraham said, "If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be persuaded even if someone rises from the dead." In standard prophetic manner, this is exactly what happened when the Jews saw the real Lazarus raised from the dead. Jesus waited until he was dead for four days (no doubt about his "dead" status) and then, in front of the Jewish mourners, commanded Lazarus to come forth. When he did, their reaction wasn't, "Oh, we've seen it for ourselves! You are the Christ!" No! "From that day on they planned together to kill Him." (And Lazarus, too! John 12:10) Evidence, you see -- even the best of evidence, irrefutable evidence -- is not sufficient to persuade.

The second problem is the notion that the Gospel is received by means of persuasion. It is true that we come to a variety of positions by means of persuasion. A teacher can show you enough times that 2+2=4 and you will be persuaded. It doesn't take a lot of effort to demonstrate that dropping a bowling ball on your foot is painful. These things don't take spiritual insight. We get them. In a secular world where the five senses are the primary input for the mind, these things work just fine. But Paul said that Natural Man doesn't accept the things of God, that Natural Man has been blinded by the god of this world. Jesus said that belief is granted from God, not acquired by argument. Paul wrote "Faith comes by hearing and hearing by proper apologetics." No, that's not what he wrote. You see, the second problem is that the apologetics approach assumes a natural world -- a world ruled by the senses evaluated by the mind -- but Scripture assumes another force. That other force is the Holy Spirit, the work of God. Thus, the Gospel isn't just a well prepared, well defended, well executed presentation, but "the power of God". Scripture is not just another truth statement we need to defend; it is the living Word of God. We're talking about a different dimension here that bypasses the sensory input and logical brain not because it is illogical, but because sinful man is broken.

I'm not suggesting that we abandon apologetics. We are commanded to make a defense. We are required to contend for the faith. In Athens, Paul took his logical defense to the Areopagus and presented it. That was apologetics. Indeed, God used that to bring some to faith. So I'm not suggesting that it's useless or that we should abandon it. On the contrary, we must embrace it. But Paul said that in Christ "are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Col 2:3). Since we're dealing with people who cannot understand the things of God (1 Cor 2:14) and since we have the Word of God -- a power itself -- and the power of God Himself at work, it makes no sense to rely simply on rational defenses and secular reasoning in evangelism. Remember, the basic starting structure of sin is "Did God say?" Ignoring what God has said doesn't help resolve this problem. Relying on the reasoning capacity of fallen man doesn't help much either. Evangelizing with apologetics alone is like going hunting with a well-oiled, properly maintained, perfectly-sighted rifle ... and no bullets. God said, "So shall My word be which goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it" (Isa 55:11).

Absolutes

Some of the statements from Scripture are hard because they are so absolute. Unless you're willing to disregard the plain context and chalk it up to unclear communication, some of these things can really shake your perceptions. That is, if these statements are real, our normal view of things likely needs to change. I'll give some examples for you to consider.

Anyone who has read much from me will certainly see this one coming. "There is none who does good, there is not even one" (Rom 3:12). Hyperbole? Some have said so, but if hyperbole was intended, "none who does good" would be sufficient. No, the writer added a second phrase as if to say, "I'm not using hyperbole here." "Not even one." It's intended to tell us that there isn't one. It's in the same sense as "all have sinned" just twelve verses later. It's intended as a universal negative, not mere hyperbole. And if we were to take this as it appears to be written, how would that alter our view? Well, we know that there are good people everywhere. Most of us would willingly admit that even atheists do good, right? I mean, come on! We would, in fact, be hard-pressed to admit that there is anyone who does not do good at some point or another. But Paul (quoting David in Psa 14) is raising his hand here. "Ahem," he seems to be saying, "you have that completely turned around. It is not that everyone does something good; it's that no one does anything good." The result? Apparently we need to revise both our perceptions of humans and, more to the point, of "good". Our standard, I would suggest, is way too loose. What we consider "good" God considers ... how does Isaiah put it? ... "filthy rags". That ought to shake your views.

I've talked a lot lately about the statement in 1 Cor 2:14. "Natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised." It's hard to turn that to mean something else. It's hard to push it toward hyperbole. And it's impossible to soften it. Paul uses two terms -- "does not" and "cannot". It says that Natural Man lacks the willingness and even the capacity to accept or understand the things of the Spirit of God. Now, if you're like most of us, you're going to object. "No, no," you'll assure us all, "humans are fully capable of understanding the things of God." That, of course, is the common perception. The only problem with that position is ... it's opposite of what the Bible says. So, if we're going to have a biblical worldview, it seems that we have to reevaluate that viewpoint of ours. Because Paul is not ambiguous. He didn't stutter.

One that struck me the other day was this one. Prepare yourself. It's quite harsh. I mean, we already have "none who does good" in spite of our mistaken belief that most people do good and "cannot understand" even though we're pretty sure that almost all humans can understand. Now we have this one:

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love (1 John 4:7-8).

Now, I'm walking carefully here and it is entirely possible that I'm wrong, but it seems to me that this statement of absolutes is quite broad. It seems to me to say that love is from God (at least, it seems to me it says that) and that those who love are born of God and know God. So I have to ask, what about ... let's go to the extreme ... an atheist mother? I mean, surely she loves her children, right? And I wouldn't want to suggest that she does not. But John seems to say something here that would contradict that. It seems to be black and white, "yes" or "no". If you love, you know God. If you don't know God, you cannot love. You can do something similar, something that appears to be love, something that we accept as love, but, like the "good" that people do that Paul says they do not or the "understanding" that people have that Paul says they do not, it appears that what we call "love" is not what God considers love.

Now, like I said, I'm open to being wrong here. I'm open to considering alternative perspectives on the "good", the "understanding", or the "love" being spoken of here. But if I take the Bible seriously and allow it to shape my worldview, I'm currently stuck with these absolutes. I'm open to suggestions, but it seems like a worldview that aligns with some of the absolutes of Scripture is not going to coincide with the worldview of most everyone else.

Presuppositions

It's interesting how, without even being spoken, presuppositions can have large ramifications. Let's look at a few examples.

The inerrancy of Scripture is quite a big one. Now, remember, the premise is regarding presuppositions without being spoken, so I'm not going to defend or attack the inerrancy of Scripture. I'm going to assume it (or not). The one that assumes it will read the Bible differently than the one who does not. One will read every word as if it's accurate and, in those cases where there appears to be a contradiction, will work at trying to figure out what is actually intended rather than merely dismissing it because, after all, the Bible is inerrant. The one that assumes it is not may take the Bible seriously, but has no problem with apparent contradictions. These contradictions may be internal -- within the pages of Scripture -- or external. If this guy sees an apparent internal contradiction, it's a simple thing to either reject both of them or to pick the one that is more in line with his beliefs. If he reads something that contradicts what he believes, he has no problem dismissing it because there is no presupposition of inerrancy. And while both will "take the Bible seriously", they are not taking it in the same sense and some sort of common ground becomes impossible. But these two have a hard time sorting out the reason for the failure of common perspective because the presupposition -- the inerrancy of Scripture -- goes unspoken, but touches everything.

Presuppositions on the Nature of Man taints all sorts of perspectives. Is Man basically good or basically bad? If bad, how bad? And there are shades here. The "Calvinist" will say that "There is none who does good; no, not one", that Man is "inclined only to evil continually". The more moderate (read "Arminian" perhaps) will say that Man is basically a sinner, but that whole "no not one" thing is hyperbole. Natural Man does good deeds all the time. And take babies, for instance. They're not "sinners", not "intrinsically bad". They're innocents! Come on, anyone can see that! And, then, of course, there's the more common presupposition of the day: Humans are basically good. They turn bad because of environment and circumstances and other things, but humans are good at their core. I don't think you need much expansion beyond that. Each presupposition regarding the nature of Man will take you down a completely different road. The first requires regeneration before faith. The second places Christ as the Savior of all ... all who are willing. The third potentially removes the need for a Savior at all. Just be good enough and you'll be okay. (Of course, there is another underlying presupposition for that one -- "good enough". Don't even begin to examine that one.) Different roads.

A lot of Christians believe that Man is "Spiritually Dead", but the presupposition of what that means will give them varying directions. One side tends to think of it is something mostly "future tense", that if something isn't done about "it" (whatever "it" really is), it will be bad. Damnation or something, you know? But it isn't something real at the moment. No, no, not quite that. It's just that it isn't something actually dead. "Dead" means inactive, incapable, not living. This "dead" doesn't mean that. Man is a spiritual being as well as a physical being and there's nothing dead about his spirit. So that's not what it means. Of course, the other side would argue that "spiritually dead" means ... dead. In this view, Man's spiritual capacities are short-circuited, he is unable to understand the things of God, and he is spiritually incapable. He operates only in "the Flesh", the biblical euphemism for sinful self, and not in "the spirit" ... because he is spiritually dead. And you can see how this would shade the rest of the conversation. Can Man come to Christ on his own? If the former presupposition, of course! If the latter, "What are you thinking? Of course not!" You can see how this would create all sorts of differences in its ramifications.

One I've seen recently is "the Kingdom of God". We don't discuss it. We assume it. And it turns out our presuppositions become key without ever being examined. One view is that the kingdom of God is certainly future tense. It may be heaven itself. It may be at the end of the events of Revelations. But it's not now. Another view says that it is most certainly here and now, that Christ is reigning, that His kingdom exists around us, and while it may not be as visible as it will be in the future, it is certainly as real. The kingdom of God, in this view, is all that has to do with God. I think those two are quite prevalent views. So, let me lay out a well-known verse. "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3). I think, without any grand explanation from me, you can see that your presupposition regarding "the kingdom of God" will shape your understanding of this verse. If "the kingdom of God" is future tense, then you understand that "born again" is the prerequisite to ... getting to heaven. If you it is present tense, then obviously "born again" is the prerequisite to "seeing" ... to getting it, to being aware of it, to (in Paul's words) accepting or understanding the things of God (1 Cor 2:14).

I wonder how often our presuppositions -- unmentioned -- shape our discussions without us even being aware of it. Coming from different origins, we can't figure out why, although we seem to be using the same language, we're not coming to the same conclusions. "We're talking about the same thing. It's plain as day. How can they not see it?" How often do you think it boils down to an underlying definition that remains unspoken or unexamined and we just don't know it? I think it's much more often than we realize.

Useless Creeds

There are those who would argue "No creed but Christ", a self-refuting statement because it is a creed. There are those who would argue that creeds are helpful in laying out basic biblical doctrine. There are those who would argue that creeds are necessary in pinning down what people do and don't believe. "Do you agree with the Westminster Confession of Faith? Okay, then, you're a Calvinist." Or something like that. Me? I see real value in creeds. They do indeed break down complex biblical doctrine and set it in helpful formats to give clear statements. I think that creeds are biblical -- you can, in fact, find them in Scripture. I am absolutely certain that doctrine itself is biblically mandated, and creeds are simply a support of biblical doctrine. So, to me, creeds are a good thing.

And then I read something like this. Apparently two professors at Calvin College (located in Grand Rapids, MI, it touts itself as "Distinctively Christian, academically excellent, always reforming") have decided that "Adam and Eve are strictly literary figures -- characters in a divinely inspired story about the imagined past that intends to teach primarily theological, not historical, truths about God, creation, and humanity." "Strictly literary figures", you know, like Sherlock Holmes, Gandalf, or Fagin. Certainly not historical characters. And, of course, since they were figurative -- not literal -- neither is the theology they spawn. "They propose that Adam and Eve are purely symbolic literary figures, that there was no historical fall into sin, and that the doctrines of original sin, Christ’s atonement, election and eternal punishment need major revision." They recognize, of course, that Paul regarded Adam as an actual, historical person, but, well, he was just wrong. We know better now. Original sin, they say, is simply a product of evolution. Evolution has predisposed us to selfishness and, thus, to sin. Strike that whole "fall of Adam" thing. And since there was no actual "fall", the whole "atonement" concept is out. One writes, "These intuitions about grace have very important implications for Christian thinking on the matter of eternal damnation, which is very hard to integrate well into theology as integrated with evolutionary science, and is also very difficult, if not impossible, to sustain within successful Christian theodicy." Throw out "eternal damnation" and embrace universalism. And, of course, that whole concept of biblical inerrancy has got to go. That's a given.

That there are those who would stray like this is no news at all. Scripture itself promised it. That it would come from the world of academia is equally not surprising. It has been thus for a long time. What disturbs me is neither the heresy nor the source, but the environment. Calvin College is a self-professed Christian college. Further, it is a Calvinist college. For instance, Rule #1 of their Faculty Membership Requirements says this:

Calvin College faculty members are required to subscribe to three historic Reformed forms of unity -- The Belgic Confession, The Heidelberg Catechism, and the Canons of Dort -- and pledge to teach, speak, and write in harmony with the confessions.

Good creeds, all. But these creeds mandate a historical view of Adam and Eve and the Fall. That is, it is not possible to both "subscribe to three historic Reformed forms of unity" and deny them at the same time. So, in this environment -- Calvin College which requires faculty to subscribe to specific creeds -- we have two outspoken professors denying the creeds.

At this point, creeds become useless. Like recent cases of pastors of Christian churches who are atheists or the ongoing cases of churches whose denomination upholds traditional creeds but whose pastors deny fundamental truths like, oh, I don't know, the historicity of Christ or the fact of the Resurrection and the like, we have a good thing (the creeds) made useless. There are no consequences. There is no accountability. There is, in fact, precious little reasoning. "Yes, yes, I can completely subscribe to these creeds while denying them entirely." Yeah, that works -- NOT.

Creeds are good things. The fact that we don't care at all is a bad thing. I suppose, however, that the fact that we too often don't much care if the pastors of our churches are believers or the professors of our seminaries and Christian colleges actually subscribe to the beliefs we are expecting is a really bad thing. The failure of the college is one thing, but the failure of the church to provide the discipline mandated by Scripture is a shame. The purpose of such discipline is love. The failure is one of love. That's a very bad thing.

Immanuel

We know that name (Matt 1:23). "God with us." It was the divine name given to Jesus before His birth. It would be the explanation of His life on earth. God with us.

At Christmas time it's particularly moving to realize.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Phil 2:5-8).

God, in the flesh. God with us. What we often forget is that He didn't have to do it. God was under no obligation to save His creation. We weren't so lovable that He was overcome with us and just had to act. It was a voluntary act on the part of the Son out of His own good will toward us.

Another thing that is often missed here. We tend to think that it was "Plan B", that the first idea was a perfect existence, but Adam blew that plan, so God came up with a new one -- His Son would become flesh and live among us, dying on our behalf. But the Word tells us that it was the original plan, that it was all planned out before time began (Titus 1:1-2).

So we're celebrating now this remarkable event where Christ -- God -- cloaked His glory, took on flesh, and made Himself Immanuel -- God with us. He endured the same temptations we do, suffered the cross on our behalf, and lives in us today. Immanuel.

The Christmas Story -- A Compilation

I wrote this years ago. Okay, I compiled it. It's my version of the Christmas story. I posted it back in 2006. I like it and you likely haven't been reading since 2006, so I'm offering it again. And ... Merry Christmas!
________________________

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth¹. And God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good². But all of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way³. "There is none righteous, not even one; there is none who understands, there is none who seeks for God. All have turned aside, together they have become useless; there is none who does good, there is not even one."⁴ All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God⁵. The wages of sin is death⁶.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us⁷, sent His Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins⁸.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being by Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men⁹. Although He existed in the form of God, He did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men¹⁰. And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth¹¹. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and those who were His own did not receive Him. But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name, who were born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God¹².

Unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given; and the government will rest on His shoulders; and His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace¹³.

And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn¹⁴.

¹ Gen. 1:1
² Gen. 1:31
³ Isa. 53:6
⁴ Rom. 3:10-12
⁵ Rom. 3:23
⁶ Rom. 6:23
⁷ Eph. 2:4
⁸ 1 John 4:10
⁹ John 1:1-4
¹⁰ Phil. 2:6-7
¹¹ John 1:14
¹² John 1:10-13
¹³ Isa. 9:6
¹⁴ Luke 2:7

Swaddling Clothes

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn (Luke 2:7).

You know that one, right? I mean, who doesn't? I'd bet that if you gave that quote to a large segment of secular America they'd be able to tell you the subject at hand. It's the birth of Christ. We all know about Joseph's trip to Bethlehem for the census, his pregnant wife-to-be going along with him. We all know that when they got there she was ready to give birth, but they couldn't find a place to stay. We all know that they ended up in a stable. It's likely that someone in your neighborhood has a decoration up somewhere that shows the little baby in a manger. Very common story. But ... did you ever think about the swaddling clothes? What is the significance of that?

Swaddling clothes were the garb of infants of the day. New parents would take a blanket and wrap the baby from feet to neck in it with some sort of binding strips to tie it on. It would keep the baby warm and safe and dry. In fact, Ezekiel 16:4 references the lack of swaddling clothes as an indication of being abandoned. And, of course, this swaddling concept isn't merely an ancient practice. It's practiced, nay, recommended today. Studies suggest that the practice can decrease the number of SIDS in infants. At least it seems to improve your little one's sleep.

Yeah, yeah, all good info, but what's the point? The point is that Jesus, the Son of God, God Incarnate, was swaddled. The point is that Jesus needed to be kept dry and warm. He needed to be diapered and fed and kept safe. He needed to be cleaned after He soiled Himself and he needed to be dressed. I know, I know, perhaps it sounds odd, even boring, but doesn't it strike you as somewhat amazing that the One who was God in the flesh had exactly the same humanity as you or I? I don't know. I was reading about this swaddling thing and it struck me because we tend to think of Jesus -- God With Us -- as somehow above all that. He didn't poop His diaper. He didn't make a mess when He was being fed. He didn't fall and skin His knee as a little boy. He wasn't ... human. And, of course, that's not true. As obscure as it might seem, the swaddling clothes tell a story of a very human being that housed a very Divine God, "one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin." At this time of year I find that to be a truly awesome thought.

What's Wrong with Christmas?

Christmas Day, as most people know (or should know), is not the actual birthday of Christ. The day came from the rival pagan festival, Saturnalia, a Roman celebration of the god, Saturn, around the winter solstice (December 25 on the Julian calendar) and the rebirth of Mithra, the sun god. In order to celebrate the birth of the Son of God (sorry, it's an English pun, so it wasn't in their minds) while covering their practice (since it wasn't quite legal) and in order to contravene the pagan nature of it, they chose this time and incorporated (read "subverted") many of the practices of the time with the idea of "redeeming the culture".

Santa Claus is the product of the tale of Saint Nicholas, a 4th century bishop, who saved some children from slavery by dropping some money down the chimney that fell into socks left there to dry.

Christmas trees appear to be from a story from the 4th century of a missionary named Saint Boniface. Facing the druidic Germans who believed in spirits in their mighty oak trees, he felled one in defiance. The tree fell on a small fir sapling. The sapling was undamaged, so he pointed to it as "the Christ tree". In the 16th century these trees were decorated with various colorful items. Martin Luther is credited with being the first to light a Christmas tree. Seeing the stars twinkling through tall pines on his way home one evening, he put candles on the tree at home to show them the glory of God's handiwork.

Holly, oh, by gosh, by golly, originally was part of the pagan belief that it had special magical powers to withstand the demons of winter. It did, after all, remain green when everything else died. Christians adopted it because the sprigs of red berries symbolized the blood Christ shed, and the thorny leaves symbolized the thorn of crowns He wore.

What's wrong with Christmas? Well, it's all there, isn't it? And I could go on and on. There is no doubt that Jesus was not born on December 25th. Sorry to let anyone down who thought so. It's not true. It's also quite certain that many things we see as traditional Christmas practices today are of pagan origin. The Puritans of England and early America outlawed Christmas due to its pagan origins. I mean, how can any true believer condone this kind of nonsense? Trust me ... look around a little and you'll find websites pounding their pulpits saying just this.

And then I read Paul's comments on food offered to idols. Is it pagan in origin? There is no doubt. But Paul says that it is of no real consequence. Just because pagans saw it as religious -- as "offered to gods" -- did not make so. "Eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience." Now, of course, Paul was saying not to do things that offend the conscience of weaker brethren. But I have to ask how far that would go? As I said before, there's very little that doesn't offend someone's conscience. I can offend someone by simply reading my Bible if it's not King James 1611 edition. So how far does that go?

And when you think about it, how much of every day living is tinged with sin? Cars are used to transport drugs. Should we stop using cars? Guns and knives are used by murderers to kill. Should we stop using knives? Buildings are used by prostitutes to do their work. Should we stop using buildings? Is there any validity to the concept of "redeeming the culture", of taking what is used for sin in the world today and converting it to godly use?

What's wrong with Christmas? Sure, there's a lot. But I wouldn't wish to suggest that it's in the traditions of Christmas. I'd suggest that it's in the hearts of those who celebrate it. Is it a celebration of Christ or a celebration of self? If the latter, no amount of "non-pagan" solemnity will make it any better. But I'm all for celebrating the coming of our Lord and Savior.

Santa Christ

I know them -- good, Christian folk who love the Lord and honor Christ at Christmas, but who have small children and, in the "spirit of the season", teach their kids that there is indeed a Santa Claus. "It's harmless fun," they tell me. "Besides, it gets the kids to try to be good for a few weeks." All good, right?

Frankly, I can't figure it ... at all. Seems to me that it runs diametrically counter to honoring Christ. And I'm not simply talking about recognizing that "Jesus is the reason for the season". I mean, it seems to me that the whole concept is problematic.

First, there's that whole "be good" thing. Christ doesn't say, "Be good." Christ says, "Be perfect." Santa offers a level in line with worldly thinking that is "good enough" and presupposes that you are basically good and only the really, really bad kids would fail at this. Indeed, as it turns out, I'd guess that the number of kids being taught about Santa who do not get something nice for Christmas (as opposed to a lump of coal) is nearly zero. So the message, contrary to Jesus's call for perfection, is "The standard is low enough that anyone can make it!"

Then there's the problem of make-believe. Here I am, teaching my child on one hand that there is indeed this jolly, over-sized elf who lives at the North Pole and manages somehow to make and deliver toys to every child on the planet in one night, one at a time, by magic. Then I tell them that there is a God who sent His Son who came as a child, grew up, died, and rose again and now lives in heaven. "No, no you can't see them. No, not either one. No, you can't actually talk to them either. Well, maybe Santa ... you know, at the local store. But, what I really want you to believe is in the one you can't talk to, see, or physically realize in any way." How is that going to go over? And when they discover "You lied to me about Santa!", how are they going to view Christ?

It seems to me that teaching your kids about Santa (as if he's real, not in some "fictional character" way) is teaching them things that are not harmless. It seems to me that teaching them about Santa reinforces a works-based view of salvation and offers them a known lie while you're trying to teach them, in similar realities, an unseen truth. So ... why do that?

Making a Church a Home

There have been debates for quite awhile now about how to get people in the doors of our churches. You know, "seeker sensitive" or not, "are we competing with secular entertainment?", "the marketing of the church", "How do we measure success -- by numbers and income, or by spiritual maturity?", all that sort of thing. And I've been in the discussion myself. But this question is a little different. I'm not asking what is the best way to get people in the door. I'm asking what makes a house of God a home?

I don't believe in going to church. (Keep reading before you leap to conclusions.) I believe in being a part of church. While most people seem to be attending their churches, I think that the Bible calls for ... immersion. Further, from what I've seen, it's pretty easy for people to come and go from church. Our church population seems pretty mobile. They'll go to this church for awhile as long as it pleases them and then, if something is disturbing or just not entirely pleasing, they'll go to that church next. "Church hopping" they call it. And, of course, then there's "church shopping". Time did a piece last year about how Americans aren't so much losing their religion as much as simply changing it. We tend to go from church to church, from denomination to denomination, from whatever doesn't quite interest us to whatever does. And no one is too disturbed. "At least they're in church," they'll say with relief.

Of course, that's not biblical. The Church is described as "the Body of Christ", with each component doing its job so that the whole can be functional and healthy. There is the descriptive term "fellowship" applied to church, a concept that is contained in the Greek word, koinonia. It means more than simple association. It means joint participation, partnership, community. Biblically, then, churches are not supposed to be places to visit, get your fill, and go home. No, they are to be places where we join together in shared lives and direction to encourage, disciple, exhort, and enable one another toward godliness and maturity. So ... how do we do that? How do we stop church from being a pit stop and make it into a home?

One of the primary problems that I see in accomplishing this task is the impediment of ministry. By "impediment" I mean that a faulty perception is likely in your mind when you hear the term. We think of a "minister" as a member of the clergy, a pastor, people specially set aside for "full-time ministry". These are the ones that do it, you see. If you're really dedicated, you might help them at their task, but it is, at the end of the day, their task. And we don't let any silly fact like it's not in the Bible get in our way of thinking that way. So we are detached from ministry. And we are detached from koinonia.

The other primary problem is that of the brotherhood. The Bible is full of references to the family nature of Christianity. We all know that if another person is a fellow believer, he is your "brother in Christ". We casually refer to our "brothers and sisters in the Lord". The terminology is common to us. It's just that the mindset is not. You see, family is a different level of relationship than acquaintance or even friend. Family requires more attention, more dedication, more involvement. Family gives grace where friends don't have to. Family meets needs where acquaintances wouldn't be expected to. I know, I know, I may be talking about an outdated sense of family, but it is still the case in some societies and it certainly was the case in our own culture in the past. So don't let Satan's successful efforts at disassembling "family" throw you off here. Family is thicker, closer, more binding. And we who are in Christ are family.

You see, what makes people show up for church when they're not really in the mood? For some it's sheer dedication or even habit. Fine. But I think there are other reasons for most. Some will say, "I don't really feel like showing up today, but they need me." You know how that goes. You have an obligation. You're going to set up chairs or teach a class or do the usher work or whatever. Maybe you don't feel like going today, but you feel like you're expected to show up because, well, you're preaching the sermon. Ministry. That's one thing that makes for the committed. The other is family. "Well, I don't really feel like showing up, but then they'll want to know where I was and if I'm okay and, well, I'll go anyway because they're expecting me." Hopefully, of course, it isn't so negative. Hopefully it's more like, "I don't feel up to it today, but I'm certainly going to go because I know there are people there who care about me and they will cheer me up."

Imagine, then, a church filled with ministers and family. Each has a job, a task, a ministry. Some may be "full time" and some may be part time. Some may be obvious -- the preaching, the teaching, leading singing, that sort of thing -- and some may be less so, like the couple who invites a visitor over every Sunday after church for dinner and getting acquainted. Whatever it is, no one who calls this church "home" shows up without a ministry mindset. They're not there to be served, but to serve. And they're dedicated to that service because it is, after all, their own family members that they are ministering to. Paul wrote, "If anyone does not provide for his family and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever" (1 Tim 5:8), and these people take that quite seriously. So they provide care and concern, encouragement and exhortation. "Felt needs" aren't met by pastoral staff encouraging special programs because it's the function of family. In a church like this, people would be less likely to attend and more likely to fellowship, less likely to "church hop" and more likely to make it a church home. Which, of course, is the main idea.

Is Tithing for Today?

Usually it goes something like this: "Is tithing for today, or is that an Old Testament concept?" Me, personally -- I'm always stunned by the question. It's very hard to read it without hearing, "You see, I don't want to do more than I have to for God, so please tell me I don't have to pay 10% of my income. I'd much rather keep that for myself." And, sure enough, if you ask around, the most common answer is indeed, "No! That's not for today!" Good news! You can keep your stuff! Yippee!

I suppose you catch the sarcastic tone behind that. Here's what I see.

Biblical tithing does not have its origins in a command from God. Did you catch that? The first tithe was not paid because God commanded it. We first read about the concept in Genesis.

So it came about in the course of time that Cain brought an offering to the LORD of the fruit of the ground. And Abel, on his part also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of their fat portions (Gen 4:3-4).

Keep in mind that no command for sacrifices for sin was yet given, no sacrificial system yet implemented. This was just what they were supposed to do: Give of the first of their produce (whatever it was) to God. Now, of course, this wasn't technically a tithe. The tithe is technically 10%. The first tithe was given by Abram. He gave it to Melchizedek, the king of Salem, the priest of God Most High (Gen 14:18-20). What command was issued that caused Abram to give that? None. Not one. You see, to Abram the tithe was given to God as an act of gratitude.

Of course, eventually the tithe became codified. God commanded it in Leviticus 27. In Deuteronomy 12, He instructed Israel on the tithe after entering the Promised Land. Nehemiah made a point of restoring the tithe when they were restoring Jerusalem (Neh 10:37-38). And both Amos and Malachi have warnings from God regarding the tithe. Malachi is the most ... disturbing.

"Will a man rob God? Yet you are robbing Me! But you say, 'How have we robbed Thee?' In tithes and offerings. You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing Me, the whole nation of you! Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in My house, and test Me now in this," says the LORD of hosts, "if I will not open for you the windows of heaven, and pour out for you a blessing until it overflows (Mal 3:8-10).

Associated with the tithe are curses and blessings. God promised that He would open the windows of heaven for them if they tithed. Most disturbing, though, is the phrase God uses. "Will a man rob God?"

Well, of course, we're all okay now. That was then. This is now. We don't have all those nasty ol' OT laws to worry about. It's no longer robbing God to refuse to tithe. It's ... godly now, right?

You see, maybe it is and maybe it's not. Maybe it is true that we no longer have a legal (as in "commanded") obligation to tithe. That could be the case. But we are told that the love of money is the root of all sorts of evil. We are quite clear that tithing is intended as an act of worship, a response of gratitude. And, look, let's face it, as believers it is not strictly true that we have anything. No, what's strictly true is that we have died with Christ, and that the life we now live is "Christ in you". What's strictly true is that, while we may not owe Him 10%, we certainly owe Him 100%.

Maybe it was robbing God to fail to obey Him by paying the tithe He commanded. Is it any less robbery to withhold from Him the 100% He now deserves? And if He deserves all, are we really going to quibble over 10%? "Is tithing for today?" Maybe, just maybe, there is no command. Surely, however, gratitude still makes its demand. Or is gratitude no longer applicable either?

The God Who Sees

This name of God, El Roi, is one of my favorites. Oh, sure, it only appears once (Gen 16:13). But it has some serious implications.

Remember the story? Sarai was upset that Hagar was pregnant (Go figure, Sarai. Wasn't that your idea?), so she mistreated her and Hagar ran into the desert. Alone and discouraged, God found her and told her to go back to Abram and Sarai. Ishmael would be her son. In response, she said, "You are the God who sees" -- El Roi.

The term has positive and negative connotations. She was awed that God found her where she was. She was awed that He promised to take care of her, that He saw her and cared about her and her unborn baby. Positives, all. And she was amazed because she had remained alive.

A similar concept is found in Psalm 139.

You know when I sit down and when I rise up; You understand my thought from afar. You scrutinize my path and my lying down, And are intimately acquainted with all my ways. Even before there is a word on my tongue, Behold, O LORD, You know it all (Psa 139:2-4).

David sees this as "too wonderful" (Psa 139:6). That the God of the universe would be watching me that closely is truly wonderful.

Of course, unless you're perfect, you can also see the ominous side of "the God who Sees". He sees what you do wrong as well. We've heard "God is always watching you" as a means of deterring sin, but we rarely really think about that. Perhaps we ought.

Why is it one of my favorites? I tend to think of God as transcendent, as far above, as "something other". He's really ... out there, so far above me that I can barely even perceive Him. This title, "the God who Sees", brings back the immanence of God. He's not only "out there". He's right here. He is indeed concerned about the here and now, a God who sees me. It's an intimacy I need. And what about that negative factor knowing that He's watching when I sin as well? Well, I can really use that, too. That is a good thing. Win-win! Yes, one of my favorites indeed.

The Problem with Theonomy

Your word for the day: theonomy. It is a term for "God's law" and a viewpoint about applying it. According to Dr. Greg Bahnsen, "The position which has come to be labeled 'theonomy' today thus holds that the word of the Lord is the sole, supreme, and unchallengeable standard for the actions and attitudes of all men in all areas of life." According to Dr. Van Til, "There is no alternative but that of theonomy and autonomy." That is, we can rule ourselves or we can have God rule us. The question is the source of authority. Is it us, or is it God? Theonomy is linked to Christian Reconstructionists. A reconstructionist is "a Christian who believes it is his or her responsibility to challenge the anti-Christian character of society and culture. The reconstructionist sees it as an obligation to seek to change society in ways that will bring it into conformity with the teaching of Scripture." Well, without going into the connections to post-millenialism and all that, I think you get the basic idea. Theonomy can be about the question, "Are Old Testament laws still in effect today?", but that's only a lighter side. The real question is should we, as Christians, aim to have God's law as our civil law?

For a long time in Christendom the answer was an unmistakeable "Yes!" If there weren't Christians in office, then the civil government was answerable to the Church. It's easy to point to Calvin's Geneva as a prime example of the Church running the State. It was fairly common. America started with it. It was a requirement in most places in the earliest days of America. I found this fascinating Article in the Delaware state constitution of 1776:

Art. 22. Every person who shall be chosen a member of either house, or appointed to any office or place of trust ... shall ... make and subscribe the following declaration, to wit: "I ________, do profess faith in God the Father, and in Jesus Christ His only Son, and in the Holy Ghost, one God, Blessed for evermore; and I do acknowledge the holy scripture of the Old and New Testaments to be given by divine inspiration."

Yeah ... try that one on today. The point, however, is that the idea isn't as outlandish as you might wish to think.

Today, of course, this is an abhorrent idea to most. It is inconceivable to the secular society, obviously, but also to most Christians. And I have to ask, "Why?" I can see a lot of value in the concept. While our society -- Christians and non-Christians alike -- are horrified at the idea of outlawing adultery, of making sex outside of marriage a civil offense, of making homosexuality a capital crime, I have to wonder why. God made these rules. They were the laws He handed to Israel. Setting aside for the moment the question, "Are they still applicable today?", we Christians need to ask, "Was He right?" Many Christians are appalled at the prospect of any capital crime, any crime with the death penalty. But God prescribed it. What I'm asking here is on what basis you (those of you who call yourselves "Christians") would call God out as a faulty Lawgiver? Because if you argue that the death penalty is wrong or laws against adultery are wrong or some such, that's exactly the call -- God is a faulty Lawgiver.

Now, I do need to say that I'm not entirely on the theonomists' side. I can indeed see the logic in it and the value in it, but I'm not at all sure of the undertaking of it. Here, let me give a parallel to illustrate. The Early Church practiced what can only be described as communism. They shared all things in common. As such, I'd call it good. On the other hand, I would certainly not be in favor of a Communist government today. Why? Well, it's the humans, you see. We've demonstrated time and again that we can take a good idea and run it into the ground. In the same way, it is my suspicion that a nation like America run as a theocracy (with, necessarily, humans at the helm) wouldn't remain a biblical theocracy for long. While I believe that it would be good for America to have laws premised on biblical principles, I neither see it happening any time soon, nor, if it did, would I expect it to be done biblically. Nor would I see it solving the basic problem of sin and the need for salvation. At best it would make a "more moral" country.

I'm not, then, in favor of a theocracy for America. I will pray for such laws. I will vote for biblical principles. I see the theory as a decent one. I just don't see it as mandated by Scripture (no one seemed to be aiming to take over Rome or Greece or any of the New Testament world) and I don't see it as practical. But I'm tired of hearing folks who classify themselves as Christians saying that we should not have biblical laws. The insult is not to me or the theonomist or even the Bible. It's an insult to the Lawgiver who doesn't make mistakes.

Two Forms of ID

How do you know if someone is a Christian? The question was actually asked, "How can I know if I'm among the elect?", but the idea is basically the same. Some would argue, "If they claim it, believe it." On one hand, that's anti-biblical. Jesus said that many would claim to be His followers whom He never knew. On the other hand, it doesn't answer the real question: How can I know? I would like to suggest two forms of ID.

The first form is purely biblical:

Applying all diligence, in your faith supply moral excellence, and in your moral excellence, knowledge; and in your knowledge, self-control, and in your self-control, perseverance, and in your perseverance, godliness; and in your godliness, brotherly kindness, and in your brotherly kindness, love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they render you neither useless nor unfruitful in the true knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For he who lacks these qualities is blind or short-sighted, having forgotten his purification from his former sins. Therefore, brethren, be all the more diligent to make certain about His calling and choosing you; for as long as you practice these things, you will never stumble (2 Peter 1:5-10).

Peter's answer may be a little lengthy, but here's the gist. If you are living a life of ever-increasing godliness, you can "make certain about His calling and choosing you". So, if you're one of those who thinks, "Well, I prayed the prayer and they told me that I'm saved and it doesn't really matter if nothing ever changes 'cause I'm saved", be afraid ... be very afraid. You see, a changed heart makes for a changed life. We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. If you are conforming more and more to biblical godliness, that's a good form of ID.

The second form is more experiential. I can't support it from Scripture, but I have also never seen an exception in my experience. It seems to me that those who have the surest salvation are the ones that are most concerned about their salvation. Read that sentence again, because it's likely counter-intuitive. It's not the ones who never consider that they might not be saved that should be completely confident. It's the ones that are deeply concerned that likely are saved.

You see, here's how it works. In a genuine, vital relationship with God, we become more and more aware of two factors in life. First there is the majesty and holiness of God. And then there's our continual failure to match it. The more we mature in Christ, the deeper the gulf between the two becomes. So if you are pretty sure that you're not doing badly at all and you're likely accepted by God, or if you never really think about it much, I'd suggest you reexamine yourself.

The Bible is quite clear. "Many will say to Me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you who practice lawlessness'" (Mat 7:22-23). Note that Jesus said "many". It is a common thing to convince ourselves that we're saved. It's an easy thing to claim to be a Christian. It's even fairly easy to claim godliness in today's watered-down view. While Scripture offers evidence and reasons for assurance, it also warns against false assurance. I'd recommend, then, that you start with at least two forms of ID.

Against Christmas Trees

It always amazes me when Christians pull out this shotgun and try to blast away at it. "You know," they tell me in hushed, conspiratorial tones, "Christmas trees are of the devil. They've been around since the Old Testament and they're banned by the Bible." Sigh.

I remember the first time I heard this. He was sincere and trying to help me out, so I looked it up.

Thus says the LORD: "Learn not the way of the nations, nor be dismayed at the signs of the heavens because the nations are dismayed at them, for the customs of the peoples are vanity. A tree from the forest is cut down and worked with an axe by the hands of a craftsman. They decorate it with silver and gold; they fasten it with hammer and nails so that it cannot move. Their idols are like scarecrows in a cucumber field, and they cannot speak; they have to be carried, for they cannot walk. Do not be afraid of them, for they cannot do evil, neither is it in them to do good" (Jer 10:2-5).

Well, there it is, by golly! Plain as day! We get a tree cut from the forest and we decorate it with silver and gold and we fasten it so it can't move! Well, they did have Christmas trees before Christ!

Hey, wait a minute! That's a problem, isn't it? "Christmas trees before Christ"? So I have to stop and step back and think for a second. And, of course, it becomes abundantly clear. These are "idols" (the word in the text, not mine). They make idols out of wood. (You see, if it was a Christmas tree, I'd be a bit confused by the "worked with an axe by the hands of a craftsman" thing before it is decorated and secured.) Oh, I get it! God is telling His people not to make idols, not that they shouldn't have a Christmas tree for decoration. One guy in this whole conversation even told me, "You know, you worship those trees." "No, we don't," I countered. "Yes, you do! On Christmas morning you get down on your knees in front of it to get the presents out. See? Worship!"

It is my firm conviction that it is possible to misuse just about anything at all that God has given us. We know, for instance, that God has given us sex as a good thing for the unity of a married couple and the procreation of the species, but we also know beyond the shadow of a doubt that misuse of that good gift is a serious problem. We know that having a biblical view of the sin of homosexuality is a good thing, but that whole Fred Phelps thing is a real abuse of the concept and a problem. Kindness is a good thing, but I'm sure you've all heard the phrase, "Kill them with kindness." Just about anything can be misused. Even Christmas trees.

Don't buy that nonsense, folks. Jeremiah was not writing about Christmas trees. He was writing about making idols of wood. Don't worship your tree and don't miss the point of Christmas and you should be just fine. I'm in favor of avoiding misuse of God's gifts, but let's not get ridiculous about it, okay?

Aware Again

I am from southern California. I no longer live there, but I was used to it. I was used to the pace and the traffic, the crowds and the climate. I was used to the brats, the proper description for essentially every child I came across from 2 to 22. It's just the way it was. I live in Arizona now, not California.

I took my lunchtime walk the other day. Nice day. 72° and sunny. Narrow sidewalk, but no problem because there wasn't much foot traffic there ... ever. I heard a noise behind me and turned around. There was a young boy, maybe 10 or 11, on a bicycle moving slowly toward me. Now, I didn't mind that he was on the sidewalk. There was no bike lane and I didn't see any point in him risking life and limb to avoid getting in the way of the single pedestrian visible for miles. So I stopped and moved off the sidewalk to let him by. He looked up at me and said "Sorry" followed by a "Thank you" as he pedaled past me. Being from SoCal, I was shocked. Courtesy? From a child?! Without parental prompting?!!

It reminded me of an event a few years back near my house. A gaggle of young boys were playing in the wash behind my house, doing their best to kill and dismember a dead tree. Now, the wash is federal land, protected from abuse. So I went out there and told the boys, "You know, it isn't my problem, but this land is federal land and it is illegal to damage anything out here." Being even closer to SoCal then, I was not in the least expecting the response I got. I was used to the 4-year-old who would stare at me for such a statement as if to say, "You're daft, old man. Get out of my way." I was ready for these preteens to give me the standard, "Who cares what you think?" What I was not prepared for was their actual response. "Really? Oh, we're sorry. We didn't know that. Gee (yes, "gee"), we could really get into trouble for this. Thanks for telling us. It won't happen again." And they headed off, never to be seen in there again.

These serve to remind me that all is not black. I believe in Total Depravity, but that doesn't mean "Man is as evil as he can possibly be". And while it is my nature and even nurture (from southern California experience) to be cynical, I am reminded from time to time that not all kids are brats, not all parents are irrelevant, and not all courtesy is lost, even if it's no longer as common. Thanks, kid. I'm aware again.

Humor

I like humor. Those who know me in real life know that. I see humor just about anywhere. Some suggest I'm rarely serious about anything. (Silly, I know, but some have said it.)

What is humor? What is it that makes us laugh? Humor is basically incongruity. Humor occurs when our minds take us down Path A and suddenly find ourselves ending up at B. The Three Stooges acted outside of the norms and that made them funny. A joke makes us laugh because it turns the expected into the unexpected. We might laugh when someone makes an unexpected mistake or when a tense moment in a movie suddenly takes a relieving turn. Still, it's the "sudden turn", the quick shift that makes it humorous, the "didn't see that coming" sensation.

We can see this when a joke is repeated multiple times. The first time you may be doubled over laughing. The second time it's funny. The third time it's amusing. The fourth time you've heard it enough, thank you very much. You see, the first time you get the benefit of the unexpected turn, but after that you see it coming, so it's not so funny anymore. You may still enjoy the joke, but mostly because it has either left your consciousness or perhaps you enjoy passing it on and seeing the reaction of others. (Laughter is, after all, somewhat contagious.)

This whole concept has brought about a change in comedy over the past decades. In earlier times, the jokes kept coming because no one had heard them before. As the masses learned them, they had to change, adapt, expand. The chicken who crossed the road to get to the other side (not the answer you were expecting) was funny once, but is passé now. We've been ... inoculated against that joke. So modern comedians have found the need to spice up their humor. Coarse language wasn't expected before, so sprinkle that in there and you get laughter. Throw in a joke about sex or body functions and it's a sure giggle because that's not supposed to be there. And so it goes. After awhile we become inoculated to those kinds of humor -- "Been there, heard that." So it has to get more outlandish.

Like our problem in comedy, we've managed to inoculate ourselves against surprise in life. It has been a slow process, but we've managed it. We know "who dunnit" pretty early on. Genuine "surprise endings" are really fairly rare and notable when they do arrive. The fact that "these two jumped into the sack together" might have been shocking at one point but no longer. "Doesn't everyone?" Foul language, rude images, gratuitous sex and violence, and so on. Our whole society is getting inoculated to surprise, requiring more outrageous inputs and making is far less observant of the bad things around us. No, not too funny, I guess. My bad.