Saturday, April 25, 2009

Saturday April 25, 2009

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4.

Less than a year ago, George Carlin, for some the ultimate comic, died. But in fact, Carlin was the ultimate cynic. The local newspaper printed the following letter I wrote as a result of a CBC feature about him.

George Carlin died at 71 after ridiculing his fellow human beings for half a century and generally trashing anything of significance in life. CBC’s The National reported that towards the end of his life, Carlin seemed to grow nihilistic and his contempt for just about everything ripened.

He declared: “I have absolutely no sympathy for human beings whatsoever, none!” and he earnestly hoped that human problems would get worse. With his death not far off, Carlin obsessed over mortality, and declared the afterlife did not exist.

What made Carlin so cynical? Certainly the foolishness and violence of humanity is enough to make us all despair of human nature at times, yet Carlin’s depth of scorn for human behaviour went much deeper. All he had to show for seventy years was a destructive and purposeless life and his attempts to dismiss any afterlife actively highlighted his fear of it.

Hopefully, our lives have at least some redeeming feature beyond Carlin’s meaningless one, but for all we may have accomplished there is still the nagging question: is this all there is? All of us have felt the pull of a reality beyond ourselves; even the atheist’s denial is a tacit recognition of its reality.

From the earliest recorded times, almost every culture searched beyond this life in some god or gods. Greek philosophy at its height recognized a divinity beyond human earthly existence, and even noted a spark of divinity lingering in humankind that recognized, and was pulled toward, that divine reality.

The anti-God culture we live in is an aberrant time in world history leaving us by ourselves to seek meaning in ambition or hedonism. By attempting to increase satisfaction by deeper involvement, even in constructive pursuits, we may instead find ourselves following Carlin down a path of decreasing satisfaction towards emptiness.

Yet George Carlin packed every performance. Perhaps those of us who went there were hoping his bellicose irreverence would help quell our fears of something beyond us. But his descent into pessimism and hatred is a reminder that there is no final meaning in this life alone, nor can we finally silence that small still voice within calling us to Himself.

Just today, the same paper printed a letter from Craig extolling George Carlin’s approach to life. Craig commented that he felt secure to meet his maker in George Carlin’s commandment that “thou shalt keep thy religion to thyself.” How distressing that all Craig sees in life is George Carlin’s despairing outlook.

Even worse, is to approach the “valley of the shadow of death” without any hope for the “rod and staff” of our creator to support us through. How foolish and tragic that an attitude of rebellious independence should reject all that our creator has for us in this life and the next. Is the life that George and his protégé Craig want really worth living?

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Thursday April 23, 2009

If you have not been trustworthy with someone else's property, who will give you property of your own? Luke 16:12.

The question arises: where are we responsible for some-one else’s property? Perhaps we can all think of times we have borrowed something and damaged it in the process. I recall Ann doing a cleaning job at a neighbour’s house, and unfortunately I went to help. I backed into a desk that had a hutch—poorly secured, mind you—full of ornaments that crashed down on my head. The ornaments fared worse than my head, and led to a very embarrassing meeting with the owner!

What is less obvious is, of course, that all we have is not really ours. We have it for a time, but we cannot take it with us when life ends. Who does it really belongs to? Generally, whoever wins the right to “own” it, as it changes hands through generations or by purchase. So nobody really “owns” our property—we simply have the loan of it for our sojourn on earth. How do we use this property, provided by a gracious Father to equip us for our earthly journey? Is it used wisely, generously and with eternity in view?

Once we realize this, then it is not only the things we have that need to be used carefully, but also the bodies we inhabit. We may not particularly like the particular body we have—bathroom closets of cosmetics and improvements for both sexes suggest we all like some improvement. The biggest argument for a healthy lifestyle is that our body is not to do as we like with, but the desired dwelling place of God. We would never trash or abuse our own homes; we want to live in comfortable and attractive surroundings. So why would we not provide the most pleasing place for him to dwell.

As I recover from my surgery, the question I have to ask is: What may I have done to bring my sickness about? Not all sickness is avoidable, but how we live can cause or prevent much of the sickness that plagues our western society. Is this something we may be called to account for?

Monday, April 20, 2009

Monday April 20, 2009

When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. John 10:4-5.

This text is a poignant reminder of the eastern sheep who know instinctively whom they can trust. In the final analysis, it is not all the logical reasons why we may trust Christ for our lives and eternity—as supportive and helpful as they may be—but an instinctive knowledge of where we belong and whom we can trust that inspires faith. In Spurgeon’s morning devotional for today he says: “Death is no longer banishment, it is a return from exile.” Trusting in Christ is the beginning of the trip home, a return to the place that we were always meant to be.

Following Christ, as the sheep followed their shepherd, is the natural way to go, to reject him is as unnatural as a starving man refusing food. Whatever life brings us, we are safer in his hands than not, to turn away from him in times of distress is like cutting off a branch on which we are sitting. It will not necessarily change our situation—it may improve or it may not, but the peace that comes from a mind stayed on him is the greatest loss. We find this to be true as Ann and I move out of one adventure—our surgeries—and into the next, the distribution of our soon to be published book.

Following the removal of the final piece of mechanical equipment from my body and Ann’s final trip to her surgeon on Thursday, we are looking forward to a few years yet of opportunity for service. Ann completes her Political Science degree at Christmas this year, and I have a second book on the go with others lurking in the back of my mind. We are excited at the possibilities that a combination of theology and political science may conjure up as we face off against the secular thinking of our day. Our future looks promising and meaningful as we follow our shepherd and look to him for guidance and inspiration.