Tagged: Jesus

Review of The Message Of The Cross, by Derek Tidball

When I read a book or watch a movie I am on the look out for the one thing upon which the book or film is centered. Sometimes this one thing can be an entire scene, but more often than not, I find that it is one line. As an illustration, I would argue that the entire movie Monster’s Ball was built to make Halle Berry’s guttural “I want you to make me feel good. Can you make me feel good?” confession as powerful as it was.

Which brings me to this book I received from a pastor’s personal stash. It’s all about both the symbolism and (possible) reality of Jesus of Nazareth’s crucifixion. The author, Tidball, is a pastor and the book certainly carries his preaching voice throughout. This is mostly annoying. On the whole, there are all sorts of quasi-theological points and what have you, but unless you’re a Christian looking to invest some time acquiring answers to some very particular questions, I don’t think this book has much value–save one point.

With an emphasis on an “everyone is on their own journey” attitude, one thing that keeps me very interested in Christianity is its prophetic aspect. I wrote earlier about discovering the money-changer showdown prior to the arrest and crucifixion was at the temple, the same one that was destroyed as Jesus seems to have prophesied, the same one whose site is still being fought over today in the middle east.

Likewise, Tidball’s single scene or line in The Cross is found in Genesis 22:6. He calls to our attention that during the infamous Old Testament scene where Abraham unquestioningly follows god’s command to sacrifice his first and only son, the Bible has it that Abraham places the wood for the burnt offering on his son Isaac’s back for him to carry up the mountain. Boom!

Or crickets.

Remember that we’re talking about stories here. Remember also that words are not things, but the way we attempt to describe things.

So you’re telling me that the one true god’s chosen people–meant to be a beacon of hope for the world–out of whom some say the savior of the world was birthed had as their founding father and exemplar a man who obeyed this god’s command to sacrifice his son up to the point of the down-stroke of the knife; you’re telling me that the son walked with wood on his back at some point during the event? And then, thousands of years after this story had taken root, you’re telling me that a man who claimed to be the savior of the world carried wood on his back as he willfully submitted to his own sacrificial execution? In my book, that’s a pretty powerful and difficult to deny theme, a theme that might actively contribute to the claim that one story reigns as the greatest story ever told.

Unfortunately, in my own life of late I can admit that the Christian god has been at the least hiding, at the most absent in certain tribulations. And yet Isaac carried wood on his back long before Rome invented crucifixion or a father god sacrificed his own son.

I don’t know what to do with information like this, but I will say that I find it to be the most pleasant and empowering thing to think on, so I will continue to do so.

Professional Dreams

Yes. Three posts in one day. And it’s not even my day off. Crazy. Like a friend said, word volcano.

It’s probably odd that I’m only a few months into my current job and already writing about dreams for another job. No matter. I’m happy at my current job and don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean I don’t dream of an even better job.

So what’s this better job? Right now I’m dreaming about becoming a preacher. Or maybe a priest. Or a monk. I don’t know the specifics, but I know that I want to be a “man of the cloth” as they say. I want to be a part of a profession of men whose goods are solace and listening. I want people to seek me out. I want people, everyday people from all walks of life to come to my door or invite me to come to theirs. And I want to hear what is going on with them and their life. I want people to share the state of their soul with me. I want that opportunity. I want to do it over food too. Breakfasts, coffees, lunches, dinners, desserts. That’s the ideal job to me. I want to hear from people who don’t necessarily understand the depth of their courage for sharing the most intimate aspects of their eternal struggle on this journey called life. But more than that (yes, there’s more. I dream big when I dream.) More than that, I want to be able to hug these people. Or maybe just hold their hand. And more than any physical comfort, I want to be able to look them in the eye and with the most sincerity and conviction I am able to muster, I want to tell them, “Everything is going to be okay.”

Because everything is going to be okay. Right?

Mildly Depressing Information About WordPress Blogging – Part 2 (The Good Stuff)

“You have to sell your soul at some point if you want to make money,” he says to me. He being my brother, Sam. The reason he said it to me was because I was explaining to him how I was increasing traffic to my (this) blog. Though, to be perfectly clear, the real–the root–reason he said it to me was because we grew up in the bible belt. Anyhow, let’s get to the good stuff–how I gained 1400 followers in 6 weeks’ time.

As a reminder, this all happened last December. December 2014 I was unemployed and living on some savings. I had oodles of time and two books inside me that I needed to get out. Obviously I wanted them to become best sellers and therein give me the means to discover first-hand whether or not the life of leisure was actually for me. Since beginning to blog daily, like a broken record I constantly told my friends and family, “I know the way to get more followers is to be more active in the blogosphere. I can tell that if I just take the time to read more blogs and comment and “follow”, then I’ll get more followers. I just don’t want to spend the time and energy.” I knew this because, like you, I had seen a “like” email and followed the link to the associated blog and often enough liked/commented a post or two and soon made a momentary friend as our two blogs gained a follower.

So while taking a break from writing my first not-best seller, I opened up the WordPress Reader. I was writing a contemporary realism tale of divorce (of course not based on mine, that’d just be silly) so I figured that’s where I’d start. Typing in “divorce” on the left side of the screen, I ended up with a page full of divorce posts. Suffice it to say that after reading a couple of them, I realized this was way too time consuming. How does anyone possibly read a lot of blogs, I asked myself? I think I then decided to just skim the blog posts. But I’m too lazy to skim, so that didn’t work either. Then, I noticed something that I never had before. Right there on the Reader, you can click “like” and “follow”. As in you and I, any WP bloggers, can “like” and “follow” blogs that we haven’t even visited. Understand me? Not just not read, but not visited.

All of a sudden it became clear why I had been getting the like/follow double emails. Knuckleheads were seeing my blog post in their Reader for whatever reason and, like a one-two combination punch, clicking “like” and “follow” from there. Good to know. Next thing I know, I’m mindlessly clicking “like” and “follow” on every blog on the Reader. When I got to the bottom, it’d take a second to load more posts and then I’d continue. But then something hit me. I remembered that I hated getting a pair of like/follow emails. They always felt dirty to me. But what I did like receiving was just a “like” email notification. Hoping to discover you and I were not as unique as we might want to believe, I switched tactics. I just clicked “like” on the Reader on post after post after post.

Here’s where it got interesting. I remember thinking to myself before I hit the limit, “Surely there is a limit to this. I can’t believe their IT guys would let a blogger sit here for hours on end liking posts in an attempt to steer traffic his/her way.” (Please keep in mind I was not working, so I had plenty of time. What’s that saying about the devil and idle hands?) Anyhow, I kept “liking” and scrolling until something goofy happened. The “like” wouldn’t stay orange. It kept bouncing back to blue. Not to be deterred, I actually visited the blog whose post I was attempting to “like”. When I clicked “like” on the actual blog page, it seemed to stick. My icon was added to the group of likers (or often was the first one). But when I refreshed the blog, it hadn’t worked. I had hit some limit WordPress had set after all.

Next, I figured that this was surely a temporary “like” lockout. I do remember panicking a bit. “What?! I can’t like another post? What if I actually do like a post? What have I done!?” I walked away from the laptop for a while. Upon my return, I discovered I could “like” again. So now I figured, “Fuck it. Let’s put them to test.” Long story short, I discovered that I could like 100 posts and then WordPress would lock me out for one hour. As in literally 60 minutes after the 100th “like” I could again “like” another 100 posts.

During all of this, something else began to happen. My own blog stats were going through the roof. On average days before this day, I had 30 views. My all-time high was ninety-three. (I must’ve posted something about sex that day.) With my liking a few hundred posts in a day, I was getting nearly as many views in return. 30 became 300. It felt amazing.

But everything I’ve told you so far is just foreplay. Stick with me.

I then found myself manually “liking” 100 posts (takes about 5-10 minutes to click “like” 100 times, depending on whether any headlines/intros are distracting in a good way) and then putzing around for an hour and then doing it again. And again. And again. All day. Can you imagine this? Living life 60 minutes at a time. “Whoops. I’ll call you back. Gotta get back to it.” Then one day my friend George was over. George is a sharp cookie. He is also a programmer by trade. He is also an extremist in nearly every way and so while he was fixing some paleo-bullshyat meal for himself in the kitchen, I told him I needed a few minutes to do my thing. He sees what I’m doing and says, “Hey. Let me have the laptop for a second.” He said this with a look that excited me and I’m sure I looked silly trying to keep a poker face as I answered, “Sure. Okay. Cool.”

You need to be in your web browser for this next part (not your mobile device). Ready everyone? Follow my next instruction very precisely. I know a lot of you aren’t techy, that’s cool, but I don’t want you to take your computer in because of something you can fix yourself. What I’m going to have you do is the same as pressing Caps Lock. Press it once to turn it on, press it again and it turns off. Get it? Okay. Instead of Caps Lock, find and slowly (like give it a second to bring up a new Matrix-y mumbo-jumbo screen before you press it the second time to take that screen away) press the F12 key two times. With me? Okay. So that little half-screen thing is the way you–you know what? I don’t even get it, so I’m not going to try to explain it to you. Skipping ahead, George wrote a script for me to enter into the bottom field of that screen, the one with the “greater than” (>) sign, that would click “like” on all one hundred posts instantaneously, as long as I had already scrolled down enough to load my Reader with one hundred posts. Drum-roll please…

jQuery(‘a.like:lt(100)’).click()

Just highlight and contol-c that bad boy.

I’m not kidding. I now could wake up, fix the girl-child some breakfast, open the laptop, open the Reader, scroll scroll scroll, and then hit F12, cut-and-paste the script above, hit enter, and voila! 100 poor souls would see the Woodpecker image and swing by the ol’ Captain’s Log, discovering how awesome my writing was in the process. I’d then look at the clock and record the time on my white board. (There’s only so much ice for penguins in the old noggin’, as we used to say in the Air Force.) One hour later and I’d do it again.

As for the results? For 6 weeks I averaged 600 views a day (around 2/3rds of my “likes”. I usually had the stamina for 10 rounds of this or 1000 “likes” a day). I gained around 70 followers a day too. I also felt very, very guilty. Know what it’s like to read, “Thank you so much for stopping by my blog” when you didn’t stop by a blog? I do. It doesn’t feel good. But whatever. I knew my writing was not a waste of someone’s time and I was trying to sell my book. Of course, the book hasn’t sold, so please don’t miss the lesson here.

Anyhow, I know you’ve got other things to do today, but here’s a few more lessons learned. You might be sharp enough to ask, “Are there really 1000 new divorce blog posts an hour?” The answer is “no.” In fact, most categories that I tried did not have 1000 new posts a day. So I had to vary it. Poetry and Writing are the most used categories I found. And as you might imagine, they are also the most grateful. Batman, Movie Reviews, Philosophy, Erotica, Affairs–not so much.

You might also be asking, “What about WordPress? Surely they would notice his extraordinary ability to speed read?” They did. One day I discovered a thin red banner across my blog’s dashboard. I “clicked here” to begin to resolve the problem. Kevin, I think his name was Kevin, told me they noticed I was “liking” a lot of blog posts. He then asked how I determined what to “like”. Only mildly worried about losing all my own blog posts over this little stunt, I followed the age old moniker, “Admit nothing. Deny Everything. Make Immediate Counter-Accusation.” It worked. Though I’m still not sure Kevin is human.

While I didn’t think much of it at the time, these days I think I deserve an award for following this hourly schedule for six weeks.

In sum, I went from 400 followers (gained over a year and a half) to 1800 followers in 6 weeks. Since I’ve stopped my mass-liking (is there anything in life that doesn’t get old?), I am back to gaining the I-assume-you’ve-seen average of one new follower per published post.

Regarding “likes”: Before I ever mass-liked and with 400 followers, I had been getting 10 likes a day. Now I get between 20 and 50 “likes” a post, depending on type of content (keep in mind, this small increase is with 1800 followers).

Other lessons. Sex sells. So do father-daughter posts. My daily “views” when I publish are at about 60, up from 30. Though my recent divorce rant with the “c” word peaked at 194. I credit an early use of the “c” word for the extra attention.

Okay. That’s it. Like I said yesterday, I don’t know why anyone would want to use this information to attempt to better their station in life, but now you have it. I also feel like I understand WordPress as a business a little bit more. They provide a super-user friendly way to have a website and virtual community. But they’re the only ones getting rich quick. Oh well. No big thing.

As a final note, I couldn’t stop writing if I wanted to. And I don’t want to stop. I may not post as much as usual in the coming days/week, but that’s just because I am dealing with some other negative stuff in life and don’t want to keep ranting on here.

On a positive note, my illustrated (by a friend) children’s book proof is arriving next week. So that’ll be the next big thing. It’s great.

Actually, while you’re here, click here to buy my books. Seriously. Buy them! Do it now! That’s an order!

And never forget that the only way to get there is together.

PS – Here’s photographic evidence. The middle bar is the rant day. Yesterday’s views are because I wanted to make sure the script I gave you still worked. I was at 92 views yesterday at 3pm (six hours after publishing, most views come in much earlier than that) before I mass-liked 100 poetry posts. Looks like 157 will be it. Like I said, you can expect a return of 2/3rds the amount of “likes” you do.WP Stats
WP Stats2

Review of Glenn Hates Books Vol. 1, by Glenn Conley

I’ll ask you GHBnow to turn with me to Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Philippians Chapter 4, Verse 8. According to the King James version, these words are recorded:

“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

May God add His blessing to the hearing, reading, and doing of his most holy word.

With Glenn Hates Books: Brutally Honest Book Reviews – Vol. 1 Conley, unbeknownst to him, reveals himself to be a fervent follower of Saint Paul’s advice. In fact, it is difficult to imagine that a critic such as Conley could even exist if it wasn’t for a childhood diet rich in God’s word. The trouble, however, is young Conley (the boy sitting in the pew who couldn’t get phrases such as “Fuck this shit in the ass!” out of his head no matter how hard he tried) thought that this indoctrination was a matter of the mind, when in fact it is a matter of the heart. And then somehow, despite this mass confusion, he became an adult, got a job, and so on and so forth. Which brings us to the present, where Glenn Conley writes book reviews for fun.

Sticking to the timeless advice that is clearly stamped upon his heart, he writes reviews that are true, reviews that are honest, reviews that are just, reviews that are pure. He claims that he writes these reviews because he hates books. But that’s just a silly marketing ploy to get suckers like me to notice him. The truth is that I know of no one who loves books more than Glenn Conley. He tears through them. A friend once labeled me a “word volcano”. Sticking with the naturalistic theme, if that’s the case, Conley is a “word black hole”. Nothing escapes him. He ingests books at a rate of nearly one a day, and also takes time to consider them and report back to the author–and the world–whether the book had any truth to it. And *big surprise* most do not. Well, most of the books that Conley reads anyway.

We’re here, however, to assess his book. Should anyone read it? To do this, we turn again to the words of Saint Paul. In his second letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 4, Verse 17-18, the King James version has recorded:

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

That is to say, Conley’s book includes swears and graphic depictions–not just depictions, but longings for–rape, incest, and death. So if the temporal, seen world is the only one that matters, then he has contributed no value and his book is a public nuisance. But if we are all awaiting an eternal, unseen world, then his book is hilarious and well-worth reading. (Follow his blog here.) It is best read and appreciated while taking a shit or doing some other activity whose accomplishment is more prudently advanced the more one is distracted from doing it. Just when you think you’ve read all the possible combinations of his “Green Eggs and Ham” sized vocabulary, a fit of uncontrolled laughter signals he knows no bounds.

Lastly, whatever your stance on the time-space universe, keep this book away from literate children.

Are Atheists Arrogant? Yes.

I recently responded to a friend’s seemingly angry comment to my favorable views of Christianity by suggesting she calm down. She did. Then she asked that I watch a presentation (that you can find here) in which a speaker essentially claims that my asking this friend to calm down was an example of me unwittingly antagonizing the social change movement known as atheism. News to me.

The presentation, by a woman named Greta Christina, is very generalized and therefore incapable of doing much more than rabble rousing. However, I would like to address one topic that I find fascinating. Here’s her claim:

“I get angry when believers say that the entire unimaginable hugeness of the universe was made entirely for the human race, [whereas] atheists by contrast say that humanity is this infinitesimal eye-blink in the vastness of time and space. And then religious believers accuse atheists of being arrogant.”

As I see it, we’re all guessing. We’re all looking at the data and drawing conclusions. More than that there are two levels at play here that she doesn’t seem to recognize. One level is the idea. The other is the proponent of the idea. If I expound the believers’ idea, I can also humbly admit that it’s just my best guess. No different than an atheist can admit that they are not certain. However, when the atheist or believer declares that for certain they are right, there is naturally, in both cases, an additional off-putting arrogance. And I am no more a fan of religious zealots who prematurely end the dialogue with claims of certainty than I am of atheists who do so. But in my experience, including this woman, while believers can be annoying in their certitude, atheists rue the day when it comes to arrogance. It’s inherent to their argument, the argument that goes something like,

“There are objective, scientific facts to be known. I know them. As facts are synonymous with truth, I know the truth. Moreover if you disagree with me, you’re disagreeing with the truth and consequently you are wrong. (And stupid).”

Does anyone remember the end of The Matrix Revolutions? (That’s the name of number three). The machines are trying to once and for all defeat humanity. Their agent, Agent Smith, asks our agent, Neo, who won’t stop fighting, “Why? Why, why do you persist?” Neo’s answer: “Because I choose to.” Smith’s question embodies the same argument as the atheist’s, just more eloquently. And it is arrogant. As if life is a computation to be solved and afterwards things will be normal.

Is it an arrogant idea that the unimaginable universe was created for little ol’ me? I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like it. It’s just my freely chosen conclusion–as of today–after studying the historical record and living among you for thirty-three years. Is it an arrogant idea that an infinitesimal eye-blink or even a very numerous group of them have accurately and finally recognized a system of knowledge that answers, “Why?” or “What for?” in a way that demands unquestioning allegiance? Yes. Yes, I’m afraid it is.

New Rocky Movie Announced. Rocky Fights Jesus?

(This one’s long and experimental. If you don’t do anything, scroll to the bottom to watch a video I promise you’ll enjoy.)

It feels like I should be embarrassed to admit that as a kid I watched my family’s recorded-from-television Rocky III VHS so often that I broke it. To this day I can still picture my mom’s handwriting on the label. One day after thinking it finished rewinding, I pressed eject and discovered the tape had snapped. Why that movie was ever in our house is beyond me. We never watched it as a family. Maybe it was my dads. I do remember going to see Rocky IV in the theater, though I was very young. Come to think of it, a few years later on a Bunco night at our house my dad took my brother and I to see Rocky V at the dollar theater. Yep, I’m sure of it now. It was my dad who had recorded Rocky III. Had to be.

Anyhow, back to Rocky IV, do you remember the scene were Paulie walks Rocky from the locker room to the ring? Both men know Rocky may die in the fight and this knowledge urges Paulie to say a little somethin’. He says, “I know sometimes I act stupid and I say stupid things, but you kept me around and other people would have said ‘drop that bum’. You give me respect. You know it’s kinda hard for me to say these kinda things, cuz it ain’t my way, but if I could just unzip myself and step out and be someone else, I’d wanna be you. You’re all heart, Rock.”

Fast forward to when I recited the officer’s oath to become a second lieutenant in the Air Force. My family made the trip to Alabama’s Maxwell AFB to witness the moment. I did it in a really embarrassing high voice because I was crying and hadn’t experienced public crying enough to make it at least bearable for the listener. I’ll never forget that my mom came up afterwards and while rubbing my back, said, “You’re all heart, Pete.” Now I’m thinking maybe it was my VHS-labeling mom who was the secret Rocky fan after all–she is left-handed.

Some of my posts indicate that I have a favorable view of attending church and supporting the evidence as I see it that Jesus of Nazareth existed and was crucified and that this information might mean something more. I’m always nervous about writing about such things because I don’t want any potential book readers (buyers at least) to be turned off from this blog or my writing because they think I have some agenda to convert all you godless heathens. I overcome my nerves and as such keep sharing by confessing two realities. First, despite acquiring some 1800 followers, only about ten of you have purchased my books. (Don’t feel bad. I haven’t bought a blogger’s book either.) That means that there’s no actual money on the line. Second, I don’t give a fuck if you can’t get past someone disagreeing with you about Jesus. It is literally not my problem.

I will say this about the Jesus debate though. Almost by definition, following your heart goes against reason. And here’s what I will never do. I will never trade my heart for my reason. I won’t. And you shouldn’t either.

Some of you have been hurt real bad, not necessarily your exterior, but your heart. Like a broken bone is set in a cast, you hardened your heart to allow it to heal. The trouble is that with the cast on you have come to feel invincible. Instead of being a temporary aid to enable mending so you can get back to normal, this hardening has become armor. And this armor calls for reinforcements daily.

In all the talk about hardened hearts, no one ever taught me that they compensate for their lack of compassion by increasing intelligence and reason, but I see it in practice over and over again. However, no one had to teach me that an unintended consequence of this hardening is that it keeps out the heat until the heart becomes cold. That’s evidenced daily. Consequently, I will never stop preaching that a cold hard heart is in need of say-anything-do-anything emergency life support.

To those of you that adamantly and evangelically reject Jesus, what needs to happen to warm up and soften up a cold hard heart? Need the entire planet to deny Jesus ever existed? Or maybe you’re more realistic and need just the really smart people that you want to keep liking to form a consensus that he didn’t? I have no problem conceding that–on one condition. As part of the negotiation you have to give me a specific date when you’ll return to being the person you used to be. The person who knew that not everything in life, certainly not the most important things, are logical, scientific, and empirical. And if you don’t return by that date, then I get my superstition back.

The detached nature of this written argument will never substitute for holding hands or hugging, which are probably the only things hot enough and strong enough to transform hearts. I apologize for that. And if it wasn’t for the bizarre, yet intriguing, question that came to mind, I’ll admit that this post was probably a waste of time for anyone but me. But it is a fun question. The question being, “If Rocky ‘All Heart’ Balboa was ever to fight Jesus–whose very nature would have his corner throw in the towel–do both men win?”

Lastly, here’s a video on the subject that my new job (incidentally, not at a hospital) just showed me during a training session. It’s fairly incredible. Click Here to enjoy.

Review of Jesus and the Victory of God, by N.T. Wright

JVG“Na, I’ve read that already. I want the good stuff. I want what you read,” I said to the pastor as he tried to hand me C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity in response to my request.

That’s how I came to be introduced to N.T. Wright’s The New Testament and the People of God series, of which this volume is book two of five. Reading others’ reviews on Amazon, however, almost prevented the purchase. As such, I’d like to do the opposite and encourage it.

Why should you read this series? Because you’re smart. Not just smart, you’re educated. You know things. You know science. You know history. And you know facts. You know that the simple truth is there is no god. You know Jesus of Nazareth was nothing more than a man and that the cross, nothing more than one of the earliest name brands. You know that you have or would have come to the conclusion to “love your enemy” naturally. And you’re pretty sure that you just read a long-form article which proves that forgiveness is practiced in the animal kingdom.

And yet you feel there is something strangely unsettling if not outright irritating about that name–Jesus.

In his book/series, Wright unabashedly starts in the present. His question: What has to be true for the story to be true? As in, say someone claims that the Lord of the Rings is based on the historical record. What would have to be true for them to be right? There’d have to be evidence of wizards, elves, orcs, hobbits, a place called Mordor–lots of things. The same goes for the Bible and other non-canonical sources of ancient history. A lot of things have to fall onto the “likely to be true” side of the ancient history continuum in order for the radical claim that Jesus’ life, ministry, death, and whatever is meant by resurrection somehow altered the very real space-time universe that we find ourselves amid.

I’ll share two ways that the book has changed my perspective. First, Tolstoy wrote a book on Christianity that captured my attention for some time. One of his arguments, therefore mine, was that Jesus taught timeless truths. I no longer believe that. Wright repeatedly makes the compelling argument that Jesus of Nazareth was not a teacher of timeless truths. He lived in the first century, not the twenty-first. He was Jewish, not Christian. He delivered his message almost exclusively to Israel and the Jews, not Rome or the pagans. He did not know post-modernism, the same as how we do not know ancient history, more specifically first century/Second Temple Judaism.

Second, I am a believer in Wright’s argument that all is narrative. Wright deals exclusively in narrative, in story. As a historian he is concerned with building a story that makes sense. Many other historians disagree with him. That doesn’t absolve any of us of the burden of answering for ourselves, “Of all the competing stories about Jesus of Nazareth, which one do I believe?”

In the end, on a practical note don’t read this book without reading the first volume.

Oh, one last and probably obvious point. While I exclaimed aloud, “Yeah buddy!” as I advanced to Chapter 12 “The Reasons for Jesus’ Crucifixion”, it’s doubtful you’ll find it a page turner. What can I say? I just wanna know stuff. Maybe you do to. If so, pick up the series. If not, I still love you.

Some Conclusions For Today

Life is a journey, that’s for sure. It’s cliché to even repeat the assertion. Of late, though, it is proving itself more true than I ever would have believed.

A few months ago, December, I wrote about my search for a church home. For various reasons, the posts received decent traction. I began by reviewing the local mega church. And concluded by reviewing the church I felt was for me.

Along the way, I’ve had many conversations with individuals to include a couple pastors. A picture of the situation is beginning to appear. I think bullets will be most effective here now.

  • The church I grew up in from 3rd grade to 12th grade combined with my personality did such a number on me that fifteen years later I still can’t tell which way is up.
  • Attending church nearly every Sunday and many Wednesdays as a child was by no means the normal experience of an American child.
  • Church membership/regular attendance in America is decreasing.
  • Mega churches make it seem like church membership is on the up and up, but their growth is simply the result of small church members leaving their small church in favor of the big ones.
  • According to one pastor, young folk (20-30s) surprisingly report that they desire more of the sacred, and not the many attempts to cater to them through contemporary worship.
  • Even white preachers confess that the black model may be the way of the future regarding preaching.
  • I like the black model of preaching.
  • Mormonism is batshit crazy.
  • Mormonism is batshit crazy.
  • The historical record seems to support that a group of humans called themselves Jews and believed and worshiped one God. According to their literature, their purpose as this singular God’s “chosen people” was to display God’s essence to the rest of the world. Out of this group came Jesus. He claimed, not unlike many other prophets of his day, that his people had dropped the ball regarding this charge, but no worries, he’s got it. He further claimed–albeit cryptically at times–that his ministry was God’s way of manifesting a new era on the planet where anyone could become a member of the chosen people of God and fulfill God’s purpose for his people, which is to demonstrate love. Love one another. (Which is, like, totally, like, weird, because, like, we’re all so good at that as is.)
  • The historical record does not support Mormonism, whose claims are not marred by things called thousands and thousands of years.
  • Every single adult, every one of us that ever has existed on planet Earth is making it up as we go. Don’t miss this point. This is a big one. Previously I was under the belief that there was some level of consensus on things of this nature. But no longer. I have, like many of you, had many one on one conversations with folks regarding this topic and not one person has been the same as another–even if they go to the same church. Notta’ one. Though, put a couple of them together and it’s a different story.
  • Telling people what to believe or how to behave is disrespectful, sharing your story is not.
  • Children need to learn love; it does not come naturally.
  • Organized religion does not seem to be the best way to teach children love, and may be downright incapable of doing it.

No big conclusion.

Did You Know?

I had no idea.

I haven’t had any ideas for this blog since learning this on Thursday or Friday night. That is, I can’t think of anything else to write except to share my slightly embarrassing astonishment at what I learned.

When I have H- I usually spend all the time she is asleep writing posts or writing books. But when I don’t have her, I am able to finally catch up on some reading. One book is (as I’ve mentioned before) N.T. Wright’s Jesus and The Victory of God. It is book two in a five book series on first century Jewish-then-Jewish/Christian history. From what I have been able to discern, it is tier one as far as historical critical scholarship goes. I say tier one to attempt to convince you that I am aware there are many good researchers who all come to different conclusions about such things, but to be honest, I’m kind of falling for the arguments Wright is making. Anyhow, I’m writing this now because I want to move on and write fun things again.

The information I was shocked to discover was that the temple Jesus of Nazareth displayed anger towards and overturned tables at etc. shortly before the crucifixion, this temple was not just the local baptist church in Jerusalem. It was the Temple. Capital T. The one that has been fought over for thousands of years. The one that has been destroyed and rebuilt and destroyed and now there is a Muslim structure on it blah, blah, blah. I had no idea. I feel pretty foolish. I grew up as a bible memorizing, save the world one non-believer at a time Southern Baptist and somehow totally missed this. I just thought that he picked one of the many mega churches that surely existed back then to make an example of. I think that’s some variation of projection and ethnocentrism. Oh well.

The real question is, of course, does any of this matter?

Arpicembalo Che Fa Il Piano E Il Forte

“Large keyboard instrument that produces soft and loud (Barron 95).”

At seven feet long, six hundred seventy pounds, and taller than a toddler, it demands attention. But for a few aesthetic nuances, there is purpose in every handcrafted stationary and moving part. Equally beautiful and functional, the black behemoth exemplifies creativity. Neither do its origins disappoint. Cristofori’s problem was monotony. The harpsichord produced one sound. The strings were plucked. No matter how hard or soft the musician pressed down on the keys, the resultant volume was the same. But life’s spark would not let the matter rest. He sought both soft and loud, and henceforth created a new connection to the Infinite.

Mystifying in its identical name, the keyboard these words are typed on sits atop a wooden table in a room whose walls and closed blinds seem inclined to constantly advance inward. The piano keeps them at bay. Its weight symbolizes its persistence to preserve its place in this world.

The words begin to grow short. The afternoon advances. The man approaches confidently, if lazily. As he steps around the bench, his body brushes against the hanging blinds. He pulls his hand up short of the light switch. As if unable to contain a joyful secret, the swinging blinds reveal the sun is shining. He opens them and smiles.

There is nothing, I mean nothing, that compares to playing the piano in the light of the sun.

*Barron, James. Piano: The Making of a Steinway Concert Grand. New York: Times, 2006. Print.