Individual Rights vs. The Public Good - How do you Draw the Line?

With all the news and political commentary I keep up with, I see one dichotomy which comes up often, and seems to summarize the ideological rift between Republicans and Democrats: "Individual Rights" vs. "The Public Good."


In one corner, you have the Republicans, who champion individual rights. For example, one reason Republicans oppose the Affordable Care Act is because it takes away individuals' rights to choose their own health care, and essentially takes away individuals' money and distributes it to the public.





In the other corner, you have the Democrats, who fight for the public good. Keeping with the health-care example, Democrats support the Affordable Care Act, precisely because it is for the good of the broader public, even if it does take away some individual rights.


Of course, this isn't a comprehensive description, free of exceptions. Republicans like to talk about the public good when defending foreign wars (it's for protecting the public), and Democrats like to espouse individual rights in their support for abortion (the woman's right, that is). Both support an individual's right to free speech, and both support taxes for building roads for the public good. But for the most part, I think this dichotomy sums it up.

So, here's my question to all of  you: How do you draw the line between the two? Or, when faced with the choice of one or the other on a particular issue, how do you choose between supporting individual rights, or supporting the public good?  And if you're coming at it from a Christian perspective, how does this influence your thinking?

I continue to wrestle with the Bible, church history, and the role of the church in society, and I have come to this simple conclusion: it's complicated.  Policy is complicated.  History is complicated.  Matching religious belief with your take on either of these is even more complicated.  It's way too complicated for one party to have the holistic, right answer.  The one thing I'm sure of is that Jesus has called us to do all of these things in love for our neighbors, even if it's not politically expedient.

Christian Music: Not Safe and Fun for the Whole Family

I haven't listened to a lot of Christian music in a long time, certainly not on the radio, for reasons I'm sure many of you can guess. But music is a particularly powerful influencer. Good music often carries a lyric into the subconscious and a song can stick in your head for days. For me (and I suspect for most folks) music is an important habit of my mind, whether intentional or unintentional.

For this reason, I've recently been more intentional about the role of music in my need to to "take every thought captive to obey Christ" (2 Cor 10) and to think on "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable" (Phil 4).

Since the stuff on Christian radio isn't my style, among other things, it doesn't have much power to help me in this endeavor. (It does help many, many Christians "set [their] minds on things above" (Col 3:1), so I won't judge it too harshly, and I chide myself for doing so so disdainfully in the past.)

Fortunately, there is a good amount of "inde" music out there these days that reaches out to me and others like me (and others not like me!). Thanks to sites like Amazon and Noisetrade with their automatic, you-may-also-like suggestion boxes, out-of-the-mainstream music gets easier and easier to find.

Here are some of my recent finds.

The Vespers

As you can plainly see from the cover of their album, The Fourth Wall, The Vespers belie my bias for folk and bluegrass. They could be described as inde folk, or neo-folk, rockin' out their pickin-n-strumin' instruments in their vintage clothing. What you can't see are their at times haunting, at times playful vocals and lyrics. You can sample those here.

The Vespers don't only help us rejoice with those who rejoice, they also help us weep with those who weep, a holistic truth telling.

Gungor

Note the cover art on Beautiful Things: this is not your typical Christian music scene. Paradox is a significant part of the Christian understanding of truth, and Gungor reminds us of one of the most crucial paradoxes: 

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

Psalm-like, "Beautiful Things" opens with doubts and a sense of being overwhelmed and beat down by the ugly things in this world and in our hearts, but it is the refrain that remains in the mind---the reminder, the affirmation, the hope.

Wilder Adkins

Wilder Adkins's Oak & Apple presents new, acoustic remakes of old, beloved hymns. This choice exposes my preference for hymns over other kinds of Christian music. I'm not the only one, apparently, because there have been several projects in this vein of late. I prefer acoustic, folk-oriented albums like this one, but there are a significant number of neo-hymn albums with more pop-rock flavor.

One reason I appreciate these kinds of albums is because, along with familiar favorites, I'm always introduced to hymns I didn't grow up with. I love learning new hymns; the hymn is such a rich heritage, and learning the hymns from outside my own tradition links me to the wide, deep heritage of the faith.

You can find her latest album here.

Christine Hand

You might recognize that name. It just so happens that one of my very favorite musicians is our very own Christine Hand. Christine's music appeals to me pretty much for all the same reasons the above albums and artists do: the woman and her band can play their instruments! roots in folk, folk-rock, and blues; soulful, holistic vocals and lyrics. Her song, "The Face of All the World", is one of my long-time favorites, and I often turn to it when I feel overwhelmed by the world and am in need of encouragement and a reminder that God is everywhere and in everything:

You're every sweet sound

You are the cold rain

And every tear that from my eyes will fall for joy or pain

You are the best thing that I have found

And this world is wide and round

I haven't given up "secular" music---as we often like to say, all truth is God's truth. There are many, many songs of all stripes that remind me of Christ or the absence of him, of the glory and the horror of this life; and many songs of many stripes that are just plain fun! But as music is a powerful influencer, it's something we should at times be intentional about. The above albums and artists disciple my mind and nurture my soul. 

Your turn. I'm always on the lookout for good music. Share with us in the comments: What have been some of your favorite finds? What music gives you courage and hope? 

Peeps and the Hope of Resurrection

Every year at Easter, I buy a box of those controversial of Easter candies, Peeps. Large sugar-coated marshmallows, you either love 'em or hate 'em, most folks falling into the later category. Well, I buy a box every year because they were one of my grandmother's favorites. She passed away several years ago of cancer. My first experience with that disease. Like her favorite Easter candy, she was bright and festive and exceedingly kind-hearted---gooey on the inside, you might say. It's been over a decade---almost two (when did I get this old?)---but typing this just now, I'm getting rather emotional. I miss her. I love celebrating her in this way, at Easter time, anticipating the Great Resurrection when one day I'll see her again.

"The Hope of Resurrection" 

Though I have watched so many mourners weep
O'er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep—
Those dead seemed but the shadows of my days
That passed and left me in the sun's bright rays.
Now though you go on smiling in the sun
Our love is slain, and love and you were one.
You are the first, you I have known so long,
Whose death was deadly, a tremendous wrong.
Therefore I seek the faith that sets it right
Amid the lilies and the candle-light.
I think on Heaven, for in that air so dear
We two may meet, confused and parted here.
Ah, when man's dearest dies,'tis then he goes
To that old balm that heals the centuries' woes.
Then Christ's wild cry in all the streets is rife:—
"I am the Resurrection and the Life."

--Vachel Lindsey

That's not in the Bible?! Re-Reading Three Stories You Thought You Knew

We are all products of our environment.  Families, friends, neighborhoods, religious fellowships, and media influence us in more ways than we can possibly understand.

One small but telling example of this is in the way many people (including Christians) remember Bible stories.  We would all like to believe that our knowledge of the Bible or any other religious text is based on things we have actually read, understood, and filed away.  But oftentimes, the stories we remember come from a host of influences, and are different from what the text actually says.  Here are three surprising examples of Bible-story elements which you might have had wrong all this time:

1. Noah was not Mocked by Anyone while Building the Ark
Thanks to Darren Aronofsky's recent movie Noah, the great biblical shipbuilder is back in the news.  Many Christians have gotten upset about all of the artistic liberties that Aronofsky has taken with the text.  What many Bible-readers don't realize is that they themselves have often taken liberties with the text, including one common story element - the presence of mockers while Noah built the ark.  Go read Genesis, chapters 6-7.  You won't find any mention of anyone saying anything to Noah during the time he was building.  Might there have been mockers?  Likely.  But the text doesn't directly support it.

P.S. - The text also says that there were more than 2 of many animals, including 14 of many kinds of livestock and birds.

2. There were no Wise Men or Magi at the Manger
Despite what every nativity scene in the whole world depicts, there were no magi/wise men at the manger the night Jesus was born.  Shepherds, yes.  Angels, yes.  Cows, probably.  But Magi - nope.  Matthew 2 says:

"After Jesus was born in Bethlehem...wise men from the east came...and behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced...and going into the house they saw the child."

By the time the Magi show up, Mary and Joseph had apparently had enough time to move out of the manger and find a more suitable temporary living space in a small house or dwelling.  If you consider that later in Matthew 2, Herod decides to kill all baby boys under the age of 2 in Bethlehem, it is possible that the Magi may not have arrived until Jesus was a toddler.

P.S. - The Bible never says that there were 3 Magi.  It mentions three gifts - gold, frankincense, and myrrh - but never says how many Magi.

3. Jesus did Not Enter Jerusalem During his "Triumphal Entry"
You know the story about how on the Sunday before Passover, Jesus entered the gates of Jerusalem riding a donkey, and the people cried "Hosanna!" and they laid palm branches and cloaks at his feet.  Well, the part about him entering Jerusalem didn't actually happen.  In Luke 19, we find Jesus telling his disciples to acquire a donkey and colt from the village of Bethphage, outside of Jerusalem.  When the people greet him as he rides, he is near Bethphage, or on a small country road around there.  Then, he approaches Jerusalem and weeps over it from afar.  THEN, he enters Jerusalem and goes directly to the temple, where he proceeds to clean house.  The "triumphal entry" was actually quite humble, and was more of an approach than an entry into Jerusalem.

P.S. - You might hear on Easter morning that the same people who cried "Hosanna!" the Sunday before Passover were crying "Crucify him!" before the end of the week.   It's a common sermon example of how human hearts can be fickle (which is true!).  But, because these two events happened in different places, it's very unlikely that there were any people (outside of Jesus and the disciples traveling with him) who were in both places at all, much less likely that the same people changed their minds on something so crucial, so quickly.

CONCLUSION
What can we learn from realizing that we've had stories wrong all our lives, stories which we thought we had all right?  I know what I have learned - that I can always stand to give my Bible another reading, another careful, focused, and close reading.  As we prepare for Easter, the highest Christian holiday of all, we could use a little bit less of our own concoctions, and a little bit more of what the Bible actually feeds us.

What to Read for Holy Week

This year, for Lent, I've been taking the advice of one of our other TTC writers and, instead of giving something up, I've added devotional readings. Like Renea, I've added children's readings from the charming and talented Sally Lloyd-Jones. I've been adding a chapter a day throughout Lent from her Jesus Storybook Bible to my morning routine.

If you're looking for something to do to remember Holy Week this week and if you love beautiful, simple storytelling, or if you have children and would like to find something the whole family can participate in, readings from this book are a great idea. If you started today and wanted one reading through Good Friday, you would start with the story of the prodigal son and end with the crucifixion. Then, you could take a break on Saturday and pick up the readings on Easter morning with the story of Christ's resurrection. A word of warning to purists: this book is more storybook than Bible, but that's why I love it so much. Lloyd-Jones's whimsical writing brings back my childhood delight and wonder at the Big Story of Christianity and helps me to see my faith from new perspectives and from old perspectives I thought I had lost. And if you're looking for a Christianity 101 primer, this isn't a bad place to begin, both for children and grown-ups.

Happy Holy Week.

It's Poetry Month! But, I Don't Like Poetry. Except This One Time...

So, this is National Poetry month. Big deal. Since I don't get worked up about poems you may as well tell me that I should spend April celebrating table settings or squirrel noises. But there is one poem I know that I think about all the time. Nearly every day, in fact.

It was a poem my mother read to me when I was young. I was trying to play a video game when she came into my room, grabbed a volume from the bookshelf (our house was covered in books), and said she wanted to read one of her favorites to me. I tried not to roll my eyes. A poem? Seriously? It was like being Fred Savage in The Princess Bride when Colombo walks in and says he's going to read a book. "Is this a kissing poem?" I might have asked.

It was The Fool's Prayer, by Edward Rowland Sill, and it was everything that I expected it to be - sentimental and metered, filled with words I didn't understand like "knave," and "balsam." It tells the story of a jester who is asked to say a prayer before the king and the royal court. The jester (who must hide his grimness behind a fake, painted-on smile) prays for humility despite his faults, repeating "Lord be merciful to me, a fool." The king, who had been prepared to mock his jester's words, is so moved that he recites the same prayer.

Booooring. I was trying to beat The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, or something equally important, so I obviously didn't have time for poems. And why didn't the poet just start with the last four or five lines and make it shorter? Was it really necessary to write an entire page full of rhymes? Why should I spend my spare time unraveling knotted phrases or counting syllables? Besides, simple prose could accomplish the same thing as this poem in the space of a Post-It note! (Yes, English majors, I'm one of Those people. Also, I am realizing that I was a big jerk when I was a teenager. Sorry, Mom!)

Being a teen, I didn't want to understand this poem in the pursuit of some sort of enlightenment, because I was already an invincible genius, wise beyond my years and perfect in every way. But something about the poem's phrasing, the metrical rhymes, and its repetitions caused The Fool's Prayer to cling to the edges of my mind. Though I dismissed it in a moment of youthful arrogance, the poem didn't dismiss me. It was still there, lurking about my thoughts and taunting me with it's lesson.

Even though I'm 32, I still enjoy pretending that I'm wise even though I'm not. "I sure was dumb ten years ago," I might say to a co-worker, but in the back of my mind I'm certain that when I'm 42 I'll be saying the same thing. There has been some progress in my life; I no longer think of myself as an invincible genius, but as an absent-minded bumbler who can't find his car in the parking lot. Also, I had to look up the spelling of "genius" five minutes ago. (That really happened. I tried "geneous" and "genious" before giving up. If the NSA ever confiscates my Google searches they'll only find an endless list of misspelled words.) Like everyone else, I think I'm a decent person, but I've proven to be more selfish than caring plenty of times. I've been guilty of hatred and pettiness while claiming to decry those things.

When faced with my shortcomings I become aware of a familiar, unrelenting refrain crying out from my memory to teach me the old lesson. The Fool's Prayer might not be great poetry by academic standards - I wouldn't know - but it's a good one in my book. In dark times the poem's refrain will pierce through the haze of self-doubt and loathing, leading me down a well-worn path where I whisper a comforting liturgy: "Lord be merciful to me, a fool."

...But for our blunders -- oh, in shame

Before the eyes of heaven we fall.

 

"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;

Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool

That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,

Be merciful to me, a fool!"

 

The room was hushed; in silence rose

The King, and sought his gardens cool,

And walked apart, and murmured low,

"Be merciful to me, a fool!" 

(Read the whole thing, here.)

Holy Week Links

Every year at this time I ponder how little we emphasis Easter compared to most of our other holidays when Easter is in fact the only reason Christianity exists.  The Easter season should bring depths of reflection and joy to every Christian.  Hopefully these links will help inspire you towards those goals, and if you aren't a Christian give you an understanding of what this all means to Christians.

Background: A Primer on the Christian Calendar
This article from Biblegateway.com explains all the different days and times associated with Easter.  I grew up not celebrating many of these days, just Palm Sunday and Easter. Click this link to find out all the details.

Devotionals: Holy Week Devotionals
Check out these Holy Week devotionals from Willow Creek from 2013.  It will give you something to read through this upcoming week. Click this link to get started.

Talk: The Meaning of Easter
In this short talk N. T. Wright, Bishop of Durham, reflects on Easter.  I find it inspirational.




Song: How Deep the Father's Love for Us
This is one of my favorite songs and always reminds me of Easter and the resurrection.

Stuart Townend talks about writing this song in the video below:



You can listen to the song here:




Skit: Good Friday Video
A video from the Skit Guys that really 'brings to life' the hours before Christ's death.  Check their site for more Holy Week related videos also.

Telling the Truth

“So if preachers or lecturers are going to say anything that really matters to anyone...”

Telling the Truth is a small book divided into four chapters that brings us a refreshing look at (sharing) the Gospel. "So if preachers or lecturers are going to say anything that really matters to anyone including themselves," Buechner knowingly tells us,

they must say it not just to the public part of us that considers interesting thoughts about the Gospel and how to preach it, but to the private, inner part too, to the part of us all where our dreams come from, both our good dreams and our bad dreams, the inner part where thoughts mean less than images, elucidation less than evocation, where our concern is less with how the Gospel is to be preached than with what the Gospel is and what it is to us. They must address themselves to the fullness of who we are and the emptiness too, the emptiness where grace and peace belong but mostly are not, because terrible as well as wonderful things have happened to us all. (4 emphasis mine)

This kind of truth telling is precisely what Frederick Buechner does in Telling the Truth. A gifted, contemplative listener to life and literature, Buechner uses everyday life to tell Gospel history in fresh ways, and he uses those stories together with the poetry of the prophets, the magic of familiar fairy tales, and the blood-bought masterpieces of some of Buechner’s favorite writers to tell the truth, which is the Gospel.

Frederick Buechner is a brilliant storyteller, who, like Shakespeare, gets both the peasant and the prince, writing stories that all at once capture them both, stories that are magical and earthy. In Telling the Truth, Buechner tells the story of Jesus before Pilate, but as if it were happening in 1977. And it’s real. What I mean is, it isn’t cheesy. As I’m reading it I believe it could have happened in 1977, like I’m watching it happen on some old rerun: Pilate in a suit and tie, taking a drag from his cigaret, walking around his mahogany desk through a puff of smoke to ask Jesus, "What is truth?"

And this is part of telling the truth: making new metaphors and painting contemporary word pictures so that people who have ears to hear… But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Before we can speak the Truth we have to hear it. One way we do this, Buechner tells us, is by listening to our lives. All of it: the tragedy, the comedy, and the fairy tale. Your marital affair, your friend who betrayed you, the iPhone you own but can’t afford… the self-righteousness you feel about someone else’s affair, materialism, misfortune: that is the tragedy. And the comedy is that part which is both your wedding day and the day you fall in the toilet because he left the seat up, both “a kind of terrible funniness and of a happy end to all that is terrible” (6).

Finally, we must listen to our lives within the overarching framework of fairy tale. Because the tragic and the comic isn’t all that’s there. The fairy tale is the spell lifted and the Beast becoming on the outside the handsome prince he had become on the inside. It is the beautiful stepsisters whose feet turned out to be too fat and ugly like the sisters were in their hearts. It is those moments in our lives when we give to the least of these in spite of ourselves because we climbed up the tree a cold opportunist and climbed down a caring, and cared for, philanthropist.

This listening to life… in the silence before we finally but restlessly fall asleep or start our car or pour our coffee; listening to the rustling of our tossing and turning, the cranking of the engine, the brewing of our espresso… This listening to our own lives and the lives of others—the darkness and joyousness and impossible possibility of transformation into newness that we all share—listening to all of it enables us to tell the truth, the truth that sets us free.

No, They Didn't Find the Holy Grail

It's easy to discredit some things.

Two researchers have decided that a certain gold chalice is surely The Holy Grail. If you're anything like me then the first time you heard about the Holy Grail was from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. (Which just might be my favorite movie.)

I saw that flick when I was a kid and wondered about this cup. Was it real? Did Jesus drink from a cool, magical chalice? Could I find it, some day? The answer to those questions was disappointing (but it probably did help me start a hobby in medieval history), because there is no mention of The Grail until the second half of the Middle Ages where it shows up in fiction. It was only a plot device and was never meant to be taken seriously. No such Holy Grail is mentioned in the Bible, and it has never been a part of Christian teaching.

So what did these scholars find? The 12th-century Chalice of Doña Urraca, a cup from Spain (over there on the right) that does not date back to Jesus' time. Not even close. Furthermore, it's polychrome inlaying does not bear resemblance to ancient Roman designs or Middle-Eastern art of the first century. Note the very Latin lettering surrounding the base; it ought to be Greek if Jesus had used it. There is also a small cross in the middle that appears to be medieval heraldry. It's possible that only the inner marble part of the cup is what is claimed to have belonged to Jesus and that the gold and jewels were added later, but that doesn't explain why the cup exists at all.

How do we know this cup is not the Holy Grail? Because there's no such thing as the Holy Grail. That would be like spelunking in Peru and finding Indy's whip next to a huge boulder. The Grail is a wonderful fictional story but nothing more.

This Single Frame from the 'Noah' Movie Changed Everything For Me.

I haven't had any strong feelings about 'Noah.'  I'm glad to see that Hollywood is capable of treating a Bible story with respect, even if they won't interpret it exactly as I would, so in the debate over this film I haven't taken sides.

Until now. One frame from the film is all it took.

I can't copy the picture here because the site has it embedded in javascript or something, so you'll just have to click here to see what changed my mind.