Christological Variation -- The Problem of Continuity

In mathematics, there's a distinction to be made between numbers that are discrete which can be /counted/ in indivisible portions (i.e., the number of protons in a nucleus or the number of party hats at a birthday, how many times you've sneezed) with no space between "whole numbers" (essentially true)... and those that are continuous which represent quantities that can take on an infinite number of possibilities between those "whole numbers." (i.e. Your weight, the length of a string, the velocity of a Space Shuttle).

Even areas of life not dictated by numbers can be described by these two classifications. One could say based on common generalizations that men tend to think of color in a very discrete way. The primary rainbow colors + a couple. There's a huge range of things he might call red. On the other hand, one may similarly conjecture that women seem to recognize  some the true continuous nature of color. The shades. All the in-between bits that aren't quite Fuchsia or Lavender.

Even here, though, one can start to see the problem with continuity. It leaves massive room for interpretation and quibbling. At what point in the spectrum is the light definitively Red? Is that shirt red? That stoplight? That sunset? That guy's sunburn (no, that's burnt-pink!). Goodness knows how many times I have ended up arguing (briefly. I'm psychologically stable. I can let go) about the color of some inane object with a girl that's definitely orange not burnt-umber.  *sigh*

This problem propagates itself into all areas of life. Every "grey-area" we encounter is the result of continuous data, particularly when we're attempting the systematic categorization of a continuous series. When making a discrete approximation. 
We do this sort of approximation all the time, because discreteness is generally easier to deal with than infinite possibility (something to do with finite capacity to understand, I'd gander).

However, when doing this and drawing these lines, there's always going to be something left in the middle from which arrises ambiguity and uncertainty. The whole question of  when does a twig become a stick? A stream become a river? Or a hill become a mountain? (along the lines of This Movie) People end up sketching together seemingly arbitrary rules for these classifications, then forgetting at some point down the line that they were the ones drawing the lines.

I've seen examples of this in my Archaeology class and my Human Evolution class this quarter, but it also seems to crop up in many other areas of my life. It frustrates me because it doen't tend to lend itself to answers per se, or theorems/generalizations. It doesn't lend itself to simple answers or a lessening in complexity, in fact, quite the opposite.

What frustrates me the most is when I see it in Christianity. My faith, the foundation upon which I construct my life, has places that cannot be pinned down. For example:

Phillippians 4:8
^"8Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.⁹Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you."

Which thoughts are bad? When do my errant thoughts stray from daydream to...sin. At which point does entertainment become "not-pure." When does something become unworthy of a good-report? Upon this basis, my parents (and even myself for many years) discouraged the play of First-Person-Shooters. Did not watch R-rated movies (another arbitrary scale: movie ratings.
What do you think, Continuous or Discrete?). We however lived upon the right side of a sliding scale of another continuous metric known as: Conservative.


Makes me wonder about a few other things about Christianity:

• Is salvation itself continuous (happening over a period of time) or discrete (at a particular moment)?
• When does striving after the ways of Christ and turning entirely away from evil render your incapable of associating with the very people we're to be a witness to? (That is, at which point do we become so concerned with following Christ that we become labeled a Prude? A Monk? Sequestered from society?
• When does Fearing God and the Rightness of His ways turn into Legalism?

And, most relevant to what's currently on my mind, is a question stemming from a Human Evolution class I'm currently enrolled in. Now, forgive me, but I suppose there's an abundance of "if"s here, so please bear with me.

If I'm to believe that God was responsible for the creation of the universe (though whichever means He decided to choose, which I do believe), and if He so chose evolution as His means of creation (for which there seems to be a certain amount of evidence either way), at which point would He have decided along the sliding scale of genetics that we were.... human. Imbued with a soul, and His existence revealed to us? At which point did H. erectus really become H. sapian ?

*sigh*

Evolution is weird. There seems to be just as much evidence to support as there is to contradict, but the support seems so compelling.

Alright, here's another. A friend brought this to my attention this last spring break, upon a canoe, amid beautiful snow-capped mountains and fresh pine-laden air... the question once more: when is life? Where does it start?

When did I get my soul? (some would argue this never took place for me *cough cough* my roommate)

Is it at inception? If so, my friend said, then he is very very sad, because during the normal course of a woman's cycle, fertilized eggs regularly pass out of her system if she's been with a man. Regularly. Granted, I never double checked on this (has anyone else heard this?) but if it's true, than thousand of babies die all the time...without ever being made known. If false, then all is well... granted we know where life begins. Another continuous scale. Something to think about, at least.



As always... plenty to think about... but not get too intellectual about. God is about relationship and faith, not our trivial ponderings...

Completion

Church is an interesting place. That is, "church" with a lower-case "c." As in, the physical space worshipers generally occupy on Sunday mornings.

It's an intersting space, because it is a space rife with expectations and standards you rarely find elsewere dictating posture (sitting, standing, kneeling, and potientially bowing), etiquette (when to speak, refrain from speaking), and emotional expression (yelling, shouting, crying, dancing, displays of affection). Every church contains it's own subset of these expectations for good or bad. Generally, I prescribe to the notion that it's good for churches to have some latitude because people can't be put in boxes. Room for individuality is key... but I digress.

One expectation I feel is generally affixed to most churches is the idea that all attendees must pay attention to the speaker. (although really, this is merely an extention to what we've all learned about any gathering of people with a leader) To the paster/reverend/priest/what-have-you at the pulpit/dais/music-stand/coffee table/whatever, you may not display anything less than intent listening with maybe the occasional yawn without risking people thinking you don't really care.

This is wrong, In my view. Maybe I'm saying this to assuage my own suppressed guilt from the dozens of sermons that have made that journey between ears while managing only a brief stop to say hello somewhere inbetween. Regardless, I feel the words of whoever's up front are really only optional at best to listen to. 

The physical space, church, is really just a meeting place. A safe place to meditate and to set the lens off our own life for but an hour and half and critically think about the implications of Christ. Sometimes a sermon will help. Sometimes following along with the fill-in-the-blank cut-and-dry sermon-notes will be of use. But I've found that as long as I'm not thinking about what groceries I need to buy or where I'd like to go on a date, church can be most beneficial when I'm thinking and praying my own thoughts and prayers.

That's where I found myself this last Tuesday at a ministry I attend. I could feel that my brain had shut down many hours previous... I needed my journal to keep my mind and heart busy. This is what I fond myself jotting down. [PS, this is actually how many of these posts are born in their earliest of stages]

Christ doesn't simply complete us,

without Him, we would be nothing.

Christ doens't simply complete us, 

Christ is our Sum-total.

We exist in the darkenss and He is the Light.

We are but vapor while He is The Rock, our Fortress

Solid and True.

I think about completeness from time to time, particularly the number 7, which is one of several numbers that is consistently used in the Bible and almost entirely in reference to some kind of completion. 7 days of creation. 7 years of "tribulation," many of the feasts on the Jewish calendar cycle by increments of 7, etc. (comment if you come across any others that I'm sure I'm forgetting) ANYwho, I think about it. It's an important concept, there being a beginning and an end and the fact that God transcends all of that...

I found myself wondering at the idea of God completing my life.... making me whole. How offhand of a thought that is, and how at surface, it seems good and true. And when taken to the full extent, it is. We wouldn't even /exist/ if there had been no God! Our lives, even when not in harmony with the One who made this whole thing, still are fulfilling some important role. We are inseparable from Him, however distant we may lead ourselves to believe we are...    I think I at least can easily forget this, and there are times the idea of Him completing my life has as much weight as knowing that the final check mark on a list of to-dos completes my day. 

Looking Ahead

So, I suppose it's been a month since my last post.

Just as it seems to me that there could be no possible way for one's life to be more replete with activity and happenings, I once more stand corrected. Or sit corrected, as I now am doing in resin lawn chairs.... oh, the beauty of Spring

Deputation. It's happening. In only slightly more time than 2 shakes of a stick, I am going to be flung out to Israel -- the place where it all started! -- for 8 entire weeks. 8 weeks of serving and learning about a people who have played almost as significant a role in world politics as Israel itself has: the Palestinians. Being the other side of a thousands+ years long conflict has something to do with that, I imagine.

For a while, I found myself, honestly, a little frustrated about the whole deal. While I'm down there, I'll be working through an organization that has no spiritual objective about it, it's all political. They're objective is to expose peoples from all over the world to their plight as Palestinians; for us to see their side of the conflict which rarely makes it past The Media. I was frustrated that during this once-in-a-(at least)-very-long-time opportunity, I wouldn't have a direct outlet to share my faith. In fact, you're encouraged not to by the organization unless explicit asked to do so. Naturally, I've found myself wondering why a Christian Church would be sending individuals to such a place. To a place that has not particularly missions-oriented for a missions trip. It just seemed weird.


After having talked with a number of people about this, I still don't think I have a concrete answer. From what I've gathered, this trip is one of those that is specifically to grow you and stretch you through challenges and crazy-new experiences, of which I'm sure there'll be plenty. Growing is always meritorious, but I can't help but feel that it just seems like such a cop-out explanation. (see post: Convenient Answers)

More revelations soon to come, I hope.

God's Peace,

Typical Judas

This Easter Season, there's been a good deal on my mind. Between traveling this summer to Palestine and the whole Resurrection of Jesus thing, my spirit's been packed.

And so, this last weekend which is arguably the most important weekend of the Christian Faith, I found myself thinking -- struck, in fact -- by something. As I was reading through John ch 18 - 20 on Easter-Eve, there was something Jesus said about Judas that stuck in my mind and made me wonder. John 19:9-11

John 19:9-11 (New International Version) [Highlighting added for emphasis]

⁹and he went back inside the palace. "Where do you come from?" he asked Jesus, but Jesus gave him no answer. ¹⁰"Do you refuse to speak to me?" Pilate said. "Don't you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?"
 ¹¹Jesus answered, "You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin."

This raises some profound questions in my mind regarding the nature of Judas Iscariot.

Honestly, after I gave it some thought, I couldn't figure out how what Judas did was all that different than what we (both Christian and otherwise) tend to do on a regular basis. Replace 20 Shekles, what Judas sold-out Jesus for, with just about anything. Position. A good time. A good joke. Reputation. We all are sell-outs. We all give up Jesus for something, some more regularly than others. This is a terrible terrible fact, but a fact it remains and forgiveness we receive nonetheless.

Why is it then, that Jesus says what He does here?  It seems to be that Jesus is comparing the power Given to Pilate by God with the power not given to Judas. Judas hasn't been given authority? He was what set God's ultimate plan for redemption into motion! Jesus came to die, and Judas played an integral part in that! Doesn't seem like much of a great sin at all, but rather, a typical one. But perhaps that's something only to be seen from my current context and couldn't have been seen then...

All this is also to say, I wonder whether or not Judas is in heaven. Absurd question, perhaps. But if his part to play was as important as it was -- in fact necessary! -- then how could anyone justify God's intentional use of a man for good, that his soul might suffer? How could anyone condone the damning of a soul that became the catalyst for the greatest victory -- over death itself -- ever to be achieved? If we set aside his betrayal, this leads me finally to the question of Suicide. His ultimate end was through murder of his self. The destruction of his person.

I've been led to believe that all sin is equal in God's eyes, it is merely it's physical repercussions that manifest at various magnitudes which ranges anywhere from internal guilt to destruction of relationships and lives. Sin is sin is sin. Must one be forgiven of all sin before their moment of death?

When I was younger, I was told that the answer to this question was yes. If you lied and were hit by a car, you wouldn't be saved. That seems... so harsh. So lacking in understanding. But Suicide? What of suicide? Forgive me, I digress, but so many are forever lost to deep and painful hopelessness... it seems a terrible thought that they'd all be past redemption.

So... Judas Iscariot. Typical in his betrayal. Lost to his guilt. Did he find salvation? Because surely if he can't, what does that mean for myself?

Blessings on you this Easter!

Throughout the history of God's people, there have always existed means of remembering significant moments in their history. The Passover, the 12 stones placed after they crossed the Jordan, various celebrations throughout the year, the Sabbath itself.

In the midst of the many things we do, brunches and egg-hunts, baskets and roasted hams, let us soak in the memory of what Christ did on "this day" so many years ago.

He redeemed us.


May you experience God's overwhelming peace and love this Easter weekend,

Break Me Un-Broken

Apparently this blog is becoming also a creative outlet for me, so don't be too alarmed when you begin to see things that inexplicably rhyme, are chopped into funny paragraphs, and may not make a whole lot of sense.

The following is something I wrote while sitting on the floor of my room. I don't really know what to call it yet, maybe this post's title is sufficient enough for the poem itself. I feel compelled to ask you to "enjoy," but I always thought that was a weird way to introduce something that's not for mere entertainment. So, I will begin with: "here it is."

---

Oh God, let me disappear,
why can't I to my peers,
stand without fear?
Why to my fears
can't You, the Reigning Champ
Defeat what I can't and move
this Mountain encamped.

Memories, they haunt they
Jab. They tear where there is wear.
They consume me bare, bar
the weight I bear. Break these memories,
Father, into ash and stone, that
I may atone for the infected bone
and eyes alone.

My heart. contrite, my spite it
bites. I can no longer to myself lie
that the poison that lies within mine
eyes stings as lye. Stained by
black die. Broken without even
trying. Without even Striving.

Break these lies, Father, into ash
and powder. The lies I contrive to
keep the sky at arms length
at fist's strength. Dreams once vivid
infected now livid.
Blacked out beaten down broken
bloodied cold.
                       cold as dead as
with no longer the Breath that sustaineth
the will to prevail. Hail the new order,
unveiled. Tyranny has prevailed, and
on the high seas this ship will sail, sinking
with king drinking to it's offspring
cynic and faith-stale.

       Break me into something un-
broken
       Take me into steeples un-
spoken.
       Work in me something un-
written. Unsmitten and recommitted.
Willing to stand not crouch, confront not couch.
To speak and spread truth spirit led
spirit fed truth abundance
non-encumbrance truth
over my head. Truth... I cannot write

I cannot write

If only to find the switch-light
the mind-light, the on-off nite-light.
That I may lie down to sleep
      and my rest be sweet;
Yes, to lie down and not be afraid
      of thought unabated.
      of thought ungrated, unsated and ingratiated.
That I may lay aside my lies and know: You are God.

Convenient Answers

This last Wednesday, I returned from one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Malibu, Northern Canada. Breath-taking snow-capped vistas, deep dark-blue ocean, relatively untouched forests, it surrounds you and captures your senses and sense of place and yet, as with beautiful smells and beautiful moments, it all fades to the background eventually...and I was left becoming distracted with something else.

As I listen to other Christians talk, I've noticed that we tend to talk funny about events and opportunities. There never seems to be a wrong answer. And it all feels...too convenient. Has anyone else ever noticed that before? It frustrates me. It frustrates me because it doesn't seem right that there should always be such an easy response. Such easy thoughts. Easy-to-contrive answers.

An example. Kinda like those Choose your Adventure books of old:

Let's say Paul, middle-aged Jr. College graduate, has really been praying about his future. He feels like maybe he should move to the East-coast from Washington because his family here is too oppressive, restrictive, his friends have moved away for their careers, and he feels like he needs a new start.

[Outcome A] Everything works out. He makes it East, get's plugged into a job that's really going somewhere. Away from the oversight of his parents, he flourishes. Paul's prayer may look something like this: Truly, it was God's plan for me to move here. Thank you Father for your provision, and Your plan. Thank you for Your blessings.

[Outcome B] Something falls though. Unexpected expenses turn up, or he can't get a ticket, or he falls ill, or a parent is on his or her deathbed, or any number of reasons. Moving is no longer an option. He's stuck. Eventually this may be Paul's prayer: Thank You Father for growing me, for the challenges you placed in my life that I now recognize have allowed me to grow beyond what a more comfortable life would have. Et cetera.

I see this scenario play out countless times in the lives of the people I know, where they've (or myself even) faced a decision. A moment of great opportunity, perhaps. A moment of great hesitation. And regardless of it's outcome, regardless of the pain or joy, the victory or the failure, it's somehow alright. It's somehow all justified, with some tidy (and yet often dis-satisfactory) explanation. Often with no explanation at all.

But maybe that's the point.

Maybe if God is truly over and in and around all, then this really does make sense. Because if He's really holding the infinity of time and possibility in His hand, then there really is nothing that can escape Him. Nothing that happens outside His purposes, nothing that removes or alters His plan.

Is this comforting or confounding?

Or both.

What frustrates me is it's it just seems too... good, I guess. Or rather, it just seems unnatural because we as people never have all the answers, or if we do, it's because we're actually trying to scam someone or are delusional. But maybe that's because we're just people and that's what we do anyway.

Maybe I wish God was just a little less infinite.