Commonality

Whom do you feel like you have more in common with?

Person A: This person has made many of the same decisions as you in life. They have pursued a similar career, for many of the same reasons. They have many of the same goals as you. They come from a similar family & social background as you. They hold many of the same opinions and convictions as you.

In fact, there is only one thing you don't have in common with this person: They have no relationship with Jesus.

Person B: This person has made many of the exact opposite decisions that you have. They have a career that has nothing to do with yours---or perhaps they are even opposed to your career. Their goals seem alien to you. Their family life is radically different from yoursl perhaps it is even offensive to you. They come from a side of town you would never visit. They don't share your most closely-held convictions, and hold convictions that you consider absurd.

But this person is a follower of Jesus.

Whom do you feel like you have more in common with?

Carpenter, Skeptic, Savior

I learned a valuable lesson about skepticism a couple years ago.

My wife and I had just bought our first home (yay!) and decided it would be a great investment idea and a lot of fun to replace all of the carpet with laminate wood flooring. Six months later, we were approximately 10% of the way done, and learned that we didn't find it to be much fun (and, it turned out, we were also eight months away from moving again).

But I learned the value of asking good skeptical questions:

• "Is this really a right angle?"
• "Was that cut supposed to be measured from the tongue end or from the groove end?"
• "These measurements can't possibly be accurate!"

(Okay, that last one isn't a question, but you get the idea.)

I learned that carpenters have to be very good skeptics: They have to know how to ask constructive questions that challenge the status quo to help develop a correct understanding of reality. We have to do the same thing in physics problems (hence my use of a Pascalian group problem-solving strategy), and in studying theology.

It's also important to remember that Jesus was a carpenter, who had to ask such skeptical questions about every cut He made. In many ways, He also applied that same clear-cut understanding to the spiritual world, calling into question those who sat on their spirituality a little too comfortably.

Here's to good skepticism!

It's Weird Being on This Side

My Quantum Mechanics students are struggling through what is quite possibly one of the most challenging homework assignments of the semester. It's not necessarily the most difficult (we haven't even gotten to linear algebra yet), but it is probably the one that requires the most amount of work and thoughtfulness.

One of the problems is a scaled-down version of an assignment we wrestled with in graduate school to create plots to compare the behavior of a mass on a spring in classical mechanics with its behavior in quantum mechanics. (Plotting the classical and quantum probability densities for successively higher energy levels, for those familiar with the material.) The results are very illuminating, but it takes quite a bit of work to reach the satisfying conclusion... especially since a single mistake along the way can ruin the end product!

I spent some time after class with them in the library computer lab as they worked on the assignment. I saw in their eyes the same level of concentration & consternation that my classmates and I had displayed when completing this assignment... and I have to say, it was weird being on this side of it.

I know what the final results are supposed to look like, and I know what steps they need to take, and I know what they're supposed to learn along the way. (Granted, I will probably make mistakes as I finish my own solutions to the assignment.) And I am setting them on this task that will take a good number of hours.

It makes me think of how Jesus is described in Hebrews as a sympathetic high priest. I was reminded of the importance of that feature of His relationship to His people. I hope I can mimic it well in my relationships with my students and with others.

Additional (possibly irrelevenat) comment: I looked up "weird" in the dictionary to make sure I had spelled it correctly, and learned that it has the same origin as the word "worth." Do we think of "weird" things as having unique "worth?"

A Conversation with Mr. al'Thor (Spoilers!)

Spoiler Alert: The following blog contains glimpses into the events of The Gathering Storm.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the difference between strength and hardness as displayed in Rand al'Thor, the main character of The Wheel of Time. Everyone (readers and characters) agrees that this path will destroy him, but he doesn't seem to realize it.

Well, in the chapter I read last night, Rand acknowledged that his emotional/spiritual path would destroy him, but that he simply doesn't care. In fact, he sees it as inevitable, since he believes he's destined to die at the Last Battle, which is swiftly approaching. His words are chilling:

You all claim that I have grown too hard, that I will inevitably shatter and break if I continue on. But you assume that there needs to be something left of me to continue on. That I need to climb back down the mountain once I've reached the top. That's the key... I see it now. I will not live through this, and so I don't need to worry about what might happen to me after the Last Battle. I don't need to hold back, don't need to salvage anything of this beaten soul of mine. I know that I must die. Those who wish for me to be softer, willing to bend, are those who cannot accept what will happen to me.

A few thoughts:

1. This is a chilling reminder of the key importance the resurrection plays in the Christian faith. Paul said that without it, our faith and everything we do is in vain.
2. I quoted earlier another passage from The Wheel of Time: "Men become hard when they should become strong." We, as Christians, believe that the joy of the Lord is our strength, and that the alternative is hardness of heart. Rand's Creator, however, is (in my interpretation, and Lews Therin's) a deistic god, setting the universe in motion and watching it flourish and wither time and again. (I'm hoping I'm wrong, and that the Creator does something dramatic at the Last Battle, but we'll just have to "read on and find out," as Mr. Jordan always said.)
3. Thus, Rand's attitude above is not the Bible's picture of self-sacrifice (displayed by Jesus and His followers), but what becomes of biblical self-sacrifice when we divorce it from hope and joy.

I'm really looking forward to the end of this book, and the next two to come! But I'm also looking forward to seeing what this hope and joy does in my life this year to motivate me to self-sacrifice.

Strength vs. Hardness: A New Years Resolution for Mr. al'Thor

I received the latest book in The Wheel of Time (WoT) saga for Christmas. (Thanks, Amy!!) I've been reading it in gulps since Christmas (in the midst of prepping for the new spring term---that was a WoT joke) and am almost 300 pages into it.

There's a theme in WoT that has always haunted me since I started reading it: "Men become hard when they should become strong." The contrast (which is all over this latest book) is primarily illustrated in Rand al'Thor, the story's main character, who thus far has opted for hardness instead of strength.

What an amazingly astute and (I would say) biblical insight into the human condition! What a difference it makes in difficult times to seek the strength that God supplies via our faith in His grace instead of walling up our own defenses. And what a picture Jesus is of that strength, without a shred of hardness to be found.

I hope that 2010 finds Rand, and me, and all of us, seeking strength instead of hardness, faith instead of fear.

How have you seen this contrast make a difference? How do you think we can change from being hard to being strong? (And no WoT spoilers---I'm not done reading yet!)

The Terminology of Talking About Humans

In teaching The Parables of Matthew last Fall, I ran into an interesting question while discussing the two parables found in verses 44-46 of Chapter 13:

The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

The question comes from the two possible interpretations of these parables.

One interpretation (the standard interpretation) is that the searcher in these verses is Jesus' followers and that the treasure/pearl is Himself. This makes sense, given the suffering that the disciples were beginning to encounter (thereby "selling all that they had).

The second interpretation is that the searcher is Jesus and that the treasure/pearl is His people. This interpretation also makes sense, given that the rest of the parables in Matthew 13 feature Jesus as the active party and His people as the passive recipients.

(Of course, there's no reason they can't both be correct, and one astute member of the class---thanks, John!---noted that, given the wording that follows, "The kingdom of heaven is like," in each parable, one could argue that the first interpretation is true of the first parable, and that the second interpretation is true of the second parable!)

I'll admit, that second interpretation is attractive to me. I like reading about Jesus being the hero in a story, and I like envisioning the lengths to which He went/goes for His people.

But that interpretation does lead to an interesting question: What does it mean, in the second parable, for the pearl to be "of great value?"

Proponents of the first interpretation say that, because of our sin and His self-sufficiency, God has no need of us, and therefore doesn't view us as valuable; Jesus, after all, in John 17, clearly indicates that He is going to the cross because the glory of God & His relationship with the Father is so valuable to Him. One of the key points in the gospel, to them, is the emphasis of the centrality of God in the gospel, and the supremacy of grace and mercy. While these are invaluable points, these folks run the risk of devaluing humans (and sometimes appear quite cantankerous).

Proponents of the second interpretation say that of course humans have value to God because they are created in His image; Jesus, after all, in Matthew 6 assures His disciples not to worry because God considers them valuable. One of the key points in the gospel, to them, is to help other see how valuable they are in the scheme of things, and to inspire them to turn to God to live out their created & redemptive purposes. While these are also invaluable points, these folks run the risk of inflating the value of humans (and sometimes appear no different than the world's self-esteem gurus).

I'm not going to claim to answer this dilemma! However, I think it's important to note that these two camps seem to be attaching a different meaning to the word, "value."

When this debate emerged in my class, I asked the debaters to consider what they meant when they used the term, "value." Did they mean worth? significance? importance? worthiness? worthwhile-ness? loveliness? When we realized we were at a terminology impasse, the debate died down, and everyone seemed to have something new to think about.

I think it's important that we pursue a clear understanding of our terminology when we talk about human beings. We are, after all, finite beings somehow created in the image of God and one of the greatest paradoxes (a la Pascal) in the universe. No wonder it's very easy for our statements about ourselves to be misunderstood!

When have you run into this terminology problem? How can seeking a clear definition of your terms help you understand what truths the Bible claims about humanity? How can seeking a clear definition of your terms help you communicate those truths to others?

Clearing up Misconceptions about Fear

I mentioned last time that I wanted to try reading some alternative Christmas texts this December. I started with Isaiah 11, which provides a great description of who Jesus is and what He seeks to accomplish.

I was astonished by how twice it describes Jesus as being characterized by "the fear of the Lord."

This is a phrase that many Christians (present company included) tend to step lightly around and that skeptics love to hate. "How can you have a loving relationship with God," they both ask, "and be afraid of Him?"

It's certainly a difficult question to answer (and not one I'm going to attempt to answer here), but here's the more astonishing fact about this passage: It says that Jesus (God Himself, in human flesh) would have "the fear of the Lord."

If it's difficult for us to explain how we can be called to love and fear God, it's even more difficult for us to begin to fathom how God the Son can perfectly love and fear God the Father!

A couple of thoughts based on this:

First, if we're confused or uncertain about what "the fear of the Lord" looks like (and we very often are), we should look to Jesus. He's our example of everything else that human life should be---why not the fear of the Lord? As a prime example, we can see right away in this text that Jesus "delight[s] in the fear of the Lord."

Second, look at what this attitude of fear toward God (however it is harmonized with everything else in Jesus' divine psyche) produces.

1. Judging the poor with righteousness.
2. Treating victims with fairness.
3. Faithfulness to His people.
4. Peace.
   

Shouldn't these results be appealing to our socially-concerned skeptical friends? Better yet, do we show them this connection between fearing the Lord (something they don't understand or agree with) and caring for the needy and the hurting (something they often think we don't care about) by living it out?

Undergraduate Corner: Some Alternative Christmas Readings

On this blog, the first and third Tuesday of each month are dedicated to presenting discussion geared toward undergraduate students, in a series called, "Undergraduate Corner."

If you're like me, one of the biggest challenges you face as you head into winter break is the familiarity of it. The familiarity can be very comforting---heading home, eating Mom's food, going to church with your parents, hanging your favorite ornament on the tree (if your younger brother hasn't already!)---but it can also be very detrimental.

I've written about this before, but the scenario goes like this: If you're a typical undergraduate who's grown up in the church, you've heard the Christmas story read to you upwards of 100 times now. The wording that Luke and Matthew use roll through your ears without really touching your brain or your heart like a song that was popular ten years ago, especially since your home church's pastor is probably reading from the same version he's read from those other 100 times you've heard it. Before you know it, the beginning of the Spring semester hits, and you haven't really felt spiritually refreshed.

So, here's a challenge both for you and for me: Let's try reading on our own some alternative Christmas-related texts from the Bible this month.

Here are a few suggestions; please add your own in the comments section, and we'll build a list to last us all Christmas!

Isaiah 11

Philippians 2:1-11 (You might even just read the entire chapter!)

1 John 1:1-5 (You might even just read the entire letter!)

Revelation 12

Exodus 29:45-46, Leviticus 26:11-13, Ezekiel 37:24-28, Revelation 21 (Note the similar theme with John 1:14.)

Is service part of our "morality?"

I've been in Matthew 25 a few times in the last couple weeks, having taught out of it in an adult education class at my church last week and hearing my pastor refer to it this past Sunday. In it, Jesus describes how the evidence of saving faith in a person is loving service to others as if they were Jesus, Himself. (Not that the loving service earns their way into God's grace, but that they inevitably engage in loving service because they have received God's grace.)

We often summarize this concept by saying that saving faith leads to obedience, or a godly morality.

But when we think of "morality," aren't we usually concerned with negative concepts, such as sexual purity, or not watching "bad movies," or not associating with "bad company" (which, even Paul affirmed, "corrupts good morals")?

Is loving service part of our "morality?"

Do we see feeding the hungry (literally and figuratively) or tending the sick (again, literally and figuratively) or visiting the lonely as "moral" actions?

After all, in Matthew 25, Jesus doesn't say, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For all your friends went to see every Harry Potter movie, and you refused to go."

And isn't this positive morality of service what the world needs to see, far more than our restrictions on ourselves? Isn't this the kind of attitude that makes the difference for a university to be a welcoming place to students (who are very often hungry, sick, and lonely) instead of a standoffish wall of intimidation?

I'm off to Maryland for the American Association of Physics Teachers New Faculty Workshop! See you on Tuesday!

Undergraduate Corner: Don't Make Jesus a Stranger

On this blog, the first and third Tuesday of each month are dedicated to presenting discussion geared toward undergraduate students, in a series called, "Undergraduate Corner."

You probably saw the title to this blog posting and thought, "Yeah, I know; make sure I keep up my relationship with Jesus while I'm in college." Chances are, if you're reading this post, you are making an effort to keep up your relationship with Jesus while you're in college.

But I mean something else.

I'm referring to the tendency of Christian college students who have a near-insatiable craving to understand their faith better, and who dive deeply into even the most difficult writings of Scripture to better understand what it teaches, and to craft a seamless, clean-cut, unshakable personal statement of faith that summarizes what they believe the Bible says.


Okay, perhaps that last sentence was a little hyperbolic (that's the adjective of "hyperbole," not the mathematical curve), but you get the idea: Christian college students--the ones who grow in their faith during their college years--tend to dive into Scripture more than they ever have before. And it seems like they spend 99% of their Bible study time in Paul's letters.


Again, the 99% figure is a little hyperbolic. But when we're seeking to fine-tune our personal doctrine, we (college student or otherwise) do tend to spend a lot of time in Paul's writings. But that makes sense, right? Paul is certainly the biblical author who speaks most about doctrine and the need for doctrinal correctness. He's also one of the most straightforward authors, keeping his points pretty well-separated and usually saving his application points for when he knows you understand his doctrine; he's even got a few arguments that can stand up against that big scary atheistic professor you've got in class tomorrow.


Except here is the problem: I think that sometimes, we spend so much time and energy reading and understanding Paul, that when we return to the Jesus depicted in the Gospels (who didn't always speak about the need for doctrinal correctness; who didn't always keep His points well-separated; who wove doctrine and application together seamlessly; who spoke in stories instead of sophisticated arguments), He seems like a stranger to us.


Think of it this way: If your church's leadership announced they wanted to hire a new pastor, and invited their top candidate to give a guest sermon, with whom would you be more comfortable? A pastor whose sermon sounds like Paul, or a pastor whose sermon sounds like Jesus?


So, as we dive into Scripture to understand the Christian faith, let's not make Jesus a stranger.


When have you experienced this estrangement from Jesus of Nazereth, the Messiah depicted in the Gospels? How did you overcome it?

What about other authors of Scripture? Whose writings do you feel most uncomfortable reading?


Have you found a balanced way to read the Bible, where every author and every genre seems natural to you?

A Mathematical Model for the Questionable Sower

I recently revisited Jesus’ parable of the sower (Matthew 13:1-23) and noticed a few things I had never noticed before.  Most of these observations were inspired by Andy Crouch’s interpretation of the story in his Culture Making. I’ll summarize them here in three points:

1.       This sower is rather questionable. On looking at his sowing techniques, one finds that he must be very young, very blind, or very stupid.

2.       This parable of fruitfulness, fruitlessness, and faithfulness applies to our everyday lives, and not just Jesus’ telling of parables or our outright preaching of the gospel.

3.       This may seem anticlimactic, but I think it fleshes out the picture Jesus is painting here: The Sower’s method and result make for a very interesting math modeling problem.

The sower is rather questionable. He is throwing seeds everywhere, including places where, in retrospect, it’s obvious that the seed couldn’t grow. Seeds landing among thorns and rocks are one thing, but can’t this guy exercise just a little care to not let seeds land on the road? Nobody practices agriculture like this (and I’ve spent my share of time around agriculturalists, and they don’t tolerate foolishness)! Picturing this sower scattering seeds carelessly like this, he must be very young, very blind, or very stupid. These are very odd details for Jesus to leave out!

The analogy, of course, is that, in the ministries we feel that God calls us to, we don’t know which endeavors are going to bear fruit and which are going to die on the spot. We can certainly keep developing the areas that look promising, but we can’t know a priori which endeavors are going to succeed or flourish.

This parable of fruitfulness, fruitlessness, and faithfulness applies to our everyday lives. Jesus’ immediate interpretation of this parable is Himself proclaiming the gospel via parables. Only those whose hearts are prepared like good soil, he explains, can receive the parables and understand them such that they bear fruit. “To the one who has [i.e., the good soil], more will be given [i.e., fruit]” (v. 12). He also indicates that this applies when we proclaim the gospel, for which we certainly don’t know when we will see fruit.

But I also think that the parable applies to our everyday lives, as well. Our lives are to be expressions of the gospel—including not just our “moral decisions” and our “conversation,” as a fundamentalist would stress, but the endeavors we pursue. For example, when I teach physics, or when my wife works with her team to prepare a proposal, those pursuits are to be expressions of the gospel. Not that we insert the Four Laws (or Seven Truths for you Piper fans) into our materials, but that we pursue them out of hearts that have tasted the goodness of God and want to see that goodness propagated across creation in as many ways as possible. That is, after all, what we were created for: to spread the image of God across creation (Genesis 1:28-30). We all have a lot of room for creativity in our lives. Even the line cook slaving away at McDonald’s for minimum wage has an opportunity for creativity, in how he treats his fellow employees, or what he volunteers to do, or how he stacks boxes, etc.

In a sense, the seeds of this parable are like seeds of creativity; we don’t know what will come of our endeavors, but (to use the old adage) we won’t find out unless we try.

The Sower’s method and result make for a very interesting math modeling problem. Suppose, for example, that the Sower starts out with 100 seeds (100 is easy to work with percentages). Because the seeds that land on the good soil bear a minimum of a 30-fold return, he only needs 4 out of the 100 seeds to land on the good soil in order to end up with more than he had before—that’s a 4% success rate. In our mindset, that seems unsuccessful, but in God’s mindset, it’s a tremendous success.

What that means is that when I feel discouraged in what I perceive to be a weak progression of the gospel in the world around me, I have to remember that God takes what looks like a few feeble seeds and turns them into a new generation of fruit, beyond what I could have imagined or thought.