by Calvin | Nov 9, 2015 | Uncategorized
I remember the day a coworker accused me of being the oddest christian he’d ever met because I was “constantly thinking”. I accepted the complement as shallow praise. I was considered an odd duck because i suggested that Christians could defend both faith AND science with full conviction.
Apparently this makes me unusual. Rumour has it that Christians are not supposed to take up the cause of these two mortal enemies. I am allowed to defend the faith, give reasons for my belief in Jesus and the God of the Bible OR i am free to speak for science. But not both.
According to the people who claim to make up the rules, you can’t pull on both ends of the rope at the same time. My question is this: who decided that faith and science are tugging in different directions?
Well, okay, evangelicals have done a pretty good job of that. So have the zealots on the naturalist side of the table. Some would suggest I can only speak on behalf of the religious right, because they’re my peeps. Or used to be. Or still might be if it doesn’t go to a vote. And yes, a quick perusal of my job history would show no signs of scientific proficiency. This much is true: if i am the guy speaking on behalf of science then there are bigger problems around here than me. I don’t actually do science. I can only spell paleontologist when i have a running start. I have no idea why Krazy glue stays gloopy in the tube and somehow melds with the DNA in my fingers once it hits oxygen.
But i don’t disbelieve that science works. Knowing that something is true and knowing exactly how it’s true are two different things. I don’t know exactly how a 727 manages to lift off the ground at the end of the runway. Yet my inability to explain the theory of flight hasn’t stopped me from paying my money and strapping myself, my wife and my kids in for a flight now and then. I’m okay with science because i understand it’s place in my world.
However, my confidence in scientific achievement doesn’t preclude me from articulating my belief in a loving God. A God that created a universe where evil must exist in order for love to be possible. A created order where death occurs as part of life and where Jesus, who understood the mystery, said that “unless a kernel of wheat falls into the ground and dies it remains alone. But if it dies, it bears fruit.” Yes,he was referring to his own death but he was also giving a refresher course in simple agriculture. Stuff dies and stuff lives. That’s the way the gluten free cookie crumbles in our jar!
by Calvin | Sep 23, 2015 | Uncategorized
Dear Thesaurus,
I have been paying special attention to websites and wordsmiths trying to come up with something to replace the often misunderstood term “apologetics”. So far I’ve had no luck and it appears I may have to go public with my concern.
Please, on behalf of defenders of the faith across the land, is it too much to ask of you guys to coin another word or phrase to describe what us Christians are actually doing when we present logical proofs for faith.
It’s so easy to get confused when someone tells me they are doing apologetics. I should know better but I am tempted to reply “don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault you have to make excuses for believing in Jesus.”
And it gets even more convoluted when these apologists get good at it. While defending any theological position usually means you are well… on the defensive, unfortunately this isn’t the always the case. In fact a few well intentioned souls I’ve come across have become so aggressive in their defence tactics that I find myself apologizing for them just to keep the rest of us from burning on somebody else’s pyre.
Yes, I am well aware that yelling “Take that back you pagan mind sloth” across a lecture theater does little to display the gentle demeanour of this person we call Prince of the Peacemakers. I promise to send a memo to the whole crew. Same goes for hurling fistfuls of The Four Spiritual Laws out the car window at rowdy passersby. I know it’s not really witnessing and only reinforces the stereotype that evangelicals could care less about the only planet we could be trusted with. We can do better.
Now I know what you’re thinking. “You want a twenty-first century definition for the practice of using logic to delineate the Truth of the Christian Faith? That is so NOT post-modern!” Yes, I realize that many people don’t care whether The Jesus Story is actually true; they just want to know that it works FOR THEM. I get that. But when experiential fluff fails to deliver the goods 100 percent of the time, I want to be ready with some killer historical bones to throw. (Don’t get all crazy. I’m not suggesting for a moment that Jesus didn’t rise from the dead. And I doubt James Cameron will ever admit it, but he paid way too much for the contents of that ossuary on Storage Wars Jerusalem!)
You see, apologetics is so much more than a town-hall styled attempt at making excuses for why we think Jesus is more than just a good idea. I’m convinced the word itself has become a self-fulfilling prophesy and it’s become too easy to live up to the misunderstanding.
What we need is a word that helps convey the calm confidence we have in the logical consistency of our faith position, our worldview. A little less “oops it turns out that I think this way” and a little more “hey… why don’t we think about it thiiis way?”
Listen Thesaurus guys, I understand that you are short-staffed already but if you can pull some of the team off your “Twerking- Word of the Decade” campaign and give us a hand we would appreciate it.
PS if you have already come up something and forgot to tell us… No worries. Apology accepted.
by Calvin | Sep 10, 2015 | Uncategorized
I don’t remember exactly when I first noticed some cracks in my lens of faith. It happened sometime after I was able to ‘fess up to my somewhat irrational fear of the scientific community. Since admitting you have a problem, is the first step to healing (if you believe the science behind the addiction recovery industry) I’m finally ready to talk.
I’ve never considered myself a sucker for conspiracy theories. Like those experimental cars that were able to get 200 mpg until one day, an oil executive arrived at the inventors front door with a cheque for – a lot (the number of zeros fluctuates, depending on which decade you first heard the story). Invariably, the plans for this OPEC resistant vehicle got buried in a file cabinet, or left in somebody’s pants pockets only to be pulverized in the rinse cycle. Okay, I’ll admit I might be susceptible to this one.
But there is no bigger conspiracy theory being perpetrated against society, according to many evangelicals than Darwin’s longstanding hoax of evolution. While most people outside the faith can’t wrap their heads around our skepticism, it would be wise for those of us inside the community to at least admit this much: we have convinced ourselves that the so called “experts” are up to no good.
Yet, we still go through our daily lives taking full advantage of every technological advancement made possible by these same godless experts. From dental x-rays and flu vaccinations, to the genetically modified pizza toppings we shove into our cancer inducing microwave ovens (and collagen infused pizza-pie holes) christians are quite content to reap all the benefits of science without feeling the slightest tinge of remorse for disdaining the scientific community.
Case in point: Should Christians refuse an MRI when their doctor suggests it without knowing if science behind it is scripturally sound? (Thanks to those helpful people down at the internet, I was able to access some specs of this amazing technology – in exchange for my bank PIN and a promise to pick up a Nigerian prince at the airport.)
An MRI scanner is a tube surrounded by a giant circular magnet. The patient is tied down and inserted into the magnet. The magnet creates a strong electromagnetic field that apparently aligns the protons of hydrogen atoms in the body. As the protons spin they produce a faint signal that is detected by the receiver portion of the MRI scanner and an image is produced (thanks to medicinenet.com). Sounds like voodoo to me. The experts may theorize that those alleged hydrogen protons in my body are spinning, but I know my spleen better than anybody, and if it really was spinning… well I’d know about it. And God would most certainly know about it.
The problem, if we are suspect of science as many evangelicals are, is that magnetic resonance imaging is a technological cousin of radiocarbon dating, the same technology which is used to classify fossils and other ancient artifacts. Most christians are not fans of radiocarbon dating unless it helps confirm the age of the dead sea scrolls or tells us something miraculous about the Shroud of Turin. But our shallow exuberance vanishes into the ether when we are told the same laws of physics and associated gadgetry has just validated an 18,000 year old mastodon clavicle in Montana. 18,000 is such an unbiblical date to attach to anything!
To make matters worse, rather than allowing our fear of being deceived drive us to investigate and formulate a coherent response to the these technological “threats” to our faith, many christians simply recoil in the face of controversy. Alternative Creation Science groups, free from the heavy-handed reach of the mainstream science “elitists” publish their own sets of facts, and preach their own “literal” Biblical theories. Soon, Christian text books are trucked in to add legitimacy to the whole escapade, and eventually we call in a Christian law firm to muscle Intelligent Design into the spotlight and our public schools.
For “People Of the Light” we sure spend a lot of energy being afraid of the dark.
Here’s a question: Does the christian communities’ skepticism of science serve to enhance or discredit our faith? In other words, is the God who spoke the cosmos into existence and watched the big bang unfold, while scribbling the entire periodic table of elements on a napkin before it even existed – is He pleased with our efforts to berate those who call on every ounce of reason and intellect at their disposal to make sense of the physical world?
by Calvin | Aug 28, 2015 | Uncategorized
It used to be easy to spot the sinners. The world was full of our kind of people. And there were the others.
“Our Kind” had mastered the intricacies of faithful living. They looked like us, smelled like us and judged like us. Made us look better just by being in our circle. Of course the best part about being in the same circle with “our kind” was that we could agree on who the real sinners were without breaking a sweat.
Real sinners (as anyone with an eye for these things will tell you) are relatively easy to pick out of a lineup. Not the lineup for jello seconds at the church potluck mind you, but the lineup at the grocery store that contains all the usual suspects. The neighbourhood stoner. The crooked contractor. The unwed mother with 4 snotty faced kids and 3 ex’s. Easy pickins’ really, when it comes time to pick out the least among us.
The tougher task is trying to identify those individuals who ask annoying and unnecessary questions that make processing our faith less comfortable. Those kind of sinners aren’t as easy to spot in a crowd and are a lot more dangerous. These people would never threaten to mess up your face if you bailed on your pizza delivery bill. But, just when you least expect it, they might say a few words, mess up your take on Jesus or Genesis, smile like they are unaware of their heresy and move on.
These white collar sinners act a lot like Christians. They can be very convincing. They know how to pray, and they listen like they actually care, but you know that under that well landscaped exterior lurks that heart of a theological terrorist. These people hang out with their laptops, thinking and plotting and scratching at bits of extra-Biblical evidence and counter evidence to turn our otherwise orderly Bible studies into doctrinal war zones. And then, just when you’re relaxed (the donuts have been eaten and the notes have been handed out) they toss a grenade onto the coffee table and snicker. “I’ve been wondering this week: was Jesus the perfect communist?” or “is it plausible that Genesis is not entirely altogether actual literal history?”
What makes their little barbs so toxic is that one day, maybe years down the road, perhaps after you’ve suffered a knock on the head, or discovered your allergic to croutons, one of these absurd tiny ideas resurfaces as a legitimate thought. And like most dangerous ideas these ones don’t just vaporize at the next squirrel sighting. These niggly little ponderings are “sticky” to use the bloggers vernacular. They stay at the top no matter what hits your screen. And that’s what makes questions like so dangerous is that eventually you have to take them seriously.
by Calvin | Aug 17, 2015 | Uncategorized
I finally began reading a book that has been sitting on my shelf for several months now. “The God Delusion” by Richard Dawkins is possibly his best known title, but not because of its attention to detail or the water-tight argument lovingly cradled within its pages.
First off, I must admit that Richard Dawkins is a masterful storyteller, and a great writer. His artistry on the page makes for a somewhat pleasurable reading experience. I can even admire the passion with which he lays out his argument that God, the supernatural deity most of us associate with either Judaism, Christianity or Islam, doesn’t exist. Never has and never will. It’s easy to see why this particular book, has been able to stir up more bad blood than we’ve seen interjected into the faith debate since the KKK were still buying sheet sets in bulk.
I get that Richard Dawkins doesn’t believe in God. I get that he doesn’t even like the idea of God. But I don’t think it is necessary for Christians to reach for the garlic and a wooden stake just yet.
I’m not convinced that books such as The God Delusion will ever be serious threats to the truth of Christianity. It was only a few short years ago that The Da Vinci Code had some people believing that the Jesus cult, almost twenty centuries old was teetering on the edge of irrelevance. And what happened to Dan Brown and his master thesis after all the hype? Exactly.
Like every other Jesus conspiracy theorist before him Dawkins revels in his ability to raise the hackles of the faithful. But he has about as much faith-busting DNA in his entire argument as you’ll come across at most atheist java stand gatherings. And the unfaithful have an aversion to regular gatherings. Atheists, don’t get gold stars for showing up, and they most certainly don’t get candy for bringing a friend.
One of Dawkins stated motives for writing The God Delusion was to assist those vast hordes of wavering believers, mired in the hope of a redeeming plan for creation, shed their shackles of messianic expectation. Better to party in the glow of sardonic despondency, suggests the author, than drown in a morass of toxic holy water. He even suggests that adults who attempt to strap spiritual water wings on their children, and teach them to navigate the currents of faith as infants, should be tried as child abusers. Personally, I enjoy all the splashing about and scrambling for finger-holds that accompanies this thing called faith. Believing isn’t supposed to be easy, unless you are a seven year old, in which case it’s perfectly natural. It isn’t until we get older that we forget how to float.
If I have one problem with Delusion it’s that I can’t narrow down which of Dawkins diatribes to take aim at. Early on he rails against Stephen Jay Gould, a fellow biologist and self-proclaimed agnostic (a closet atheist, according to Dawkins, without the spherical intestitude to “come out”) for suggesting that spiritual matters cannot be adjudicated under the authority of science. Then, only a couple of pages later, Dawkins asks brazenly “What makes you think that theology is a subject at all?” Bizarre behavior coming from an author reaping the earthly rewards of writing such a noisy book on that very subject.
His unabashed whining against the sincere writings of St. Francis of Assisi and C.S. Lewis among others only seems abrasive until he takes a deep breath, fills his lungs with oxygen and angst and lets loose on the Almighty:
“Yahweh: “The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser, a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.”
And they said the Hindenburg was incendiary.
Dawkins achilles heel (highly evolved and imperfectly designed though it may be) is his inability to recognize that while he may be a celebrity in science circles, his authority as a biologist doesn’t extend into the hallowed halls of the faith conversation. That’s not to say that as a theological hobbyist his views are less legit than mine or anyone elses. I’m only saying that Dawkins focus on the laws of natural selection and genetic mutation don’t guarantee him a pass in other disciplines. If I want to know why most of the animal kingdom produces vitamin C internally, and I need to get mine out of a bottle, I ask Richard Dawkins. However, if I wish to locate the source of this prideful arrogance that keeps me from admitting I’m not God – well, I think I’ll keep looking. I’m not sure Mr. Dawkins can help me.
This isn’t the only Dawkins book on my shelf. “The Greatest Show on Earth”, his more recent work, is a wonderfully entertaining explanation of the workings of biological evolution. But while Greatest Show allowed me to scratch Richard Dawkins from my ever-morphing list of most unlikable humans on the planet, The God Delusion may result in him ending right back on my dart board next to Donal Trump’s hair stylist.
