getting it

I've been struggling with the concepts of predestination--which I believe in--and free will--which I also believe in--for a while now. Does God simply pluck a few lucky individuals out of the masses, and bestow on them the ability to sense him? Or do we find him? I have a feeling there is an element of both, but that it's mostly weighted towards God's call and God's power.

However, I still believe that salvation is open to everyone. God is not willing that any should perish; God so loved the world; whoever turns to me I will never cast out; and so on and so forth. And if we are willing to ask, seek, and knock, I believe God has chosen us.

Regardless of my tenative conclusions on this subject, I've noticed something that is perhaps a part of this. Several people I know who have grown up in Christian families, who have perhaps even seen themselves as believers for a period of their lives, have amazed me in their lack of understanding of the beliefs of those of us who still believe. I would have thought that being an eyewitness into the workings of a Christian family would have given them a certain insight into how Christians live/think... but no.

I don't want to be specific with examples in some cases, but it involves things like assuming that unmarried Christian couples would already be sleeping together, or practical things like that, that seem pretty simplistic to figure out if you're aware that someone is a Christian.

Other cases it's been matters of interpretation. Brooke Fraser, a Kiwi singer who is a Christian, has released a couple of albums of music that is not quite overtly Christian - but I would have thought you'd have to be pretty stupid not to pick up on the overtones. However, someone heard these lyrics, from a song which is about asking God to throw you a "lifeline" in the seas of life:

Wake up feeling convicted 
I know something's not right 
Reacquaint my knees with the carpet 
I have to get this out 
'Cos it's obstructing you and I 
Dry up the seas that keep us parted

This someone, who had lost the faith not all that long ago, thought that Brooke, when she sings "reacquaint my knees with the carpet", was talking about how she'd been abused as a child, by someone who would drag her knees over the carpet! Uh... no.

These aren't that hefty as examples, but: Have you ever found this, and been surprised by it, in ex-Christians or people who have been pretty clued up in Christian life? That even though they've had huge experience of Christians and the basics of Christian life and so on, they just don't seem to get it? Is it possible that getting it is a gift of God, and some people just don't have it?

guess what? I'm happy

I have come to the startling realisation that I am really, really happy. 

For a long time I've thought depressed = interesting. Being happy, especially in the College of Arts at universities, is frowned upon. Happy people go and become engineers or nurses or mathematics teachers or plumbers; the great philosophers, artists and novelists of the world are drawn from a pool of sad, angry people who, paradoxically, form groups based around the mission statement "we are loners whom no one understands", and sit in cafes bemoaning the world with eyes like dead fish. Insight is seeing how horrifying everything is, and being sort of okay with it or resigned to your inability to do anything about it, unless it all becomes too much for you and then you die.

I remember last year someone saying to me that they got depressed quite often but they didn't really want to be happy all the time because that's boring. They actually have a playlist on their iPod, a playlist of music that encourages a depressing state of mind. Of course, who am I to suggest their masochism is needless? In fact, I have behaved very similarly in the past, in the mistaken belief that I should feel more sad. At the same time, I look back now and think that perhaps they are wrong. I definitely believe that I don't have to be embarrassed about being happy.

Joy doesn't mean that I'm never sad. My mum comes into my mind a lot at the moment, and I miss her very much, and wish she was around to give me the advice and support I didn't always take advantage of when she was alive. I see things on the news almost every night that are downright depressing and make me wish that Jesus would just come back RIGHT NOW and sort things out. Nothing about my future is clear, and it's sometimes scary.

But there's something irrepressibly happy within me. I can never milk my sadness to full effect; opportunities to make people feel sorry for me never last long, because someone will say something funny and laughter will bubble up - actually, I'll probably end up laughing at myself. I'm happy - and it's all because of God.

Besides, being a happy person doesn't mean you ignore the troubles of the world. I tentatively believe that people who like drowning in depression over the state of the world do exactly that - drown - and nothing more. Happy people want to spread the joy; they are the active ones who will fight the tide of sorrow and not give up.

What I am not saying: Only Christians can be happy. I know that's not true. But I do think that my happiness depends on something constant, someone I can trust. And I know from experience that hard things will happen and yet somehow I will still be happy. It's something underlying, not a superficial overlay. The only thing that can threaten it is drawing away from God, as I found out over last summer.

It sounds supremely arrogant, and it doesn't sound very sophisticated. I hate it when people say precisely what I am saying, especially when they say it as an instruction - i.e., you're in a church, act happy! even though you've gone through an absolutely hellish time, you should be happy! So I am not saying this as an instruction, but as a self-expression - I have been surprised by joy, in the words of C. S. Lewis, and no one can take it away from me.

light relief

Someone forwarded me a list of Christian pick-up lines. Some were just silly, but some made me laugh out loud, even if they were a little cheesy, so... I couldn't resist sharing them!

- I didn't believe in predestination until tonight.

- You are so unblemished that I would sacrifice you.

- I believe one of my ribs belongs to you.

- I went on a beach mission but all I ended up doing was mission you.

- Hey... I would work seven years for your sister... but I would work seven more years for you.

- Hey, good looking, Ecclesiastes 4:11.

- Can I buy you a non-alcoholic beverage?

- Did I just have mud rubbed in my eyes?

- Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Gilead.

- How many times do I have to walk around you to make you fall for me?

- Let's say, hypothetically, you were married. I would send your husband to the front line against the Amorites.

- Feel free to meet me on the threshing floor.

- It would be my honour to present you spotless on the last day.

- Me. You. Song of Songs: the remix.

And finally:

- Look, you're nearly 22. Most Christians are three years into marriage by now... just settle for me.

Resurrection

Here the whole world (stars, water, air,

And field, and forest, as they were

Reflected in a single mind)

Like cast off clothes was left behind

In ashes, yet with hopes that she,

Re-born from holy poverty,

In lenten lands, hereafter may

Resume them on her Easter Day.

Epitaph for Helen Joy Davidman Lewis, wife of C. S. Lewis

This year, I didn't really make a big deal out of Easter. The church I attend in the mornings and which I've grown up in has always been a bit suspicious of ritual etc., being a little or a lot (depending on how you see it) anti-establishment. Not that it sees Easter as wrong; it just doesn't make a big hoohaa about it. The idea being that we should remember Jesus' death and resurrection all year round. We might mention that it's Easter in a service on Easter Sunday, and we may vaguely theme it around resurrection, and we used to have services on Good Friday combined with other churches in the area - but we don't go too overboard on it.

I also managed to get sick, so part of Friday and all of Saturday were spent either throwing up (not that you wanted to hear that) or lying in bed wishing I could just go to sleep or something.

So I hardly thought about it today. I didn't even eat Easter eggs, being in my post-sick state not really wanting to eat anything chocolatey ever again. (Don't worry - it won't last.)

Until I got to my evening church, where one of the pastors got up to welcome us all near the beginning, and said a few quick words about the fact that it's Easter, and what it means. He read the poem I've quoted above which was written by C. S. Lewis about the death of his wife.

Suddenly it dawned on me to remember what Easter means for me. Easter is not just the remembrance of a long-ago event that has been remembered and ritualised by the Christian Church for centuries. It is this:

If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. ... "Death has been swallowed up in victory." "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Cor 15:19-22, 54-57)

I thought of my mother, and how much I miss her. What hope would I have if there were no Easter? Easter is not some sort of a memorial to a dead hero. It is the living hope, passed down to we who believe today, that if Christ could be brought through death to eternal life, united with those he loves, then he can bring us through death too, uniting us with himself. Thank you, Jesus.

Ethics and Christian music

So being one of the people who sorts out music at my church, I've become aware of the CCLI licensing group. Up until now my father (who also sorts out music and who is the treasurer of the church) has absolutely refused to get a CCLI license ever since he looked into it a few years ago and I've always thought this was typical of my father who just has to find a problem with everything. :)

Recently I voiced the opinion to him that we should get a license for the music we use. We have two hymn books for which the copyright is already sorted, but we've never added all that many new songs into the mix. Now, however, the number of new songs is growing and I was a bit concerned that we weren't being ethical.

He proceeded to tell me all the problems he has with the CCLI system.
Firstly, it only covers you using the words of a song on an overhead projector or powerpoint. You have to buy a second license if you want to photocopy any of the music for other musicians.
Secondly, you don't actually get any music out of it. You still have to buy sheet music, or write it down yourself (which I have been doing for the last few years given that the Christian music industry seems to have decided that it's perfectly reasonable to sell people "sheet music" that consists only of guitar chords).
Thirdly, you have to tell them every week exactly what songs you have sung. This is an incredibly stupid system for churches like ours; we have something called "Open Worship" in which anyone can stand up and ask for a song. We don't know what we're going to be playing until seconds before we play it. It's a time-consuming thing to make a church do, especially a church like ours with already stretched resources.
Fourthly and fifthly and sixthly, there were a whole lot of other points he made which I can't remember, but actually sounded quite reasonable.

It made me start wondering what in fact is the best thing to do. Not getting a license leaves us open to lawsuits etc, but getting a license is just a pain in the neck and doesn't actually solve any of our problems.

I also started wondering... CCLI licenses are talked up as the "ethical" option but really how ethical is it to demand that small churches without resources jump through hoop after hoop? Whenever I find a new song for the church I have to buy either a CD of it or an MP3 file, and, if it's available, I have to buy piano music as well. My money is going to the musicians who write it and I find it a little offensive that it's implied that if you don't buy a license you are somehow robbing the musicians and leaving them destitute.

I also think Christian copyrighting can be extremely suspect. I've bought books of sheet music sometimes that have included songs like Amazing Grace, which have a big © 2002 at the bottom, as if they belong to whoever printed out the music. Under that reasoning, the fact that I write my own piano arrangements of some of the more modern music means I could start selling it as my own.

Anyway (and this is the biggest issue for me), whether it's ethical or not, how Christian is it to hold the threat of lawsuit over other Christians' heads? As if there's nothing problematic about walking into a church that is praising God in song and treating them like criminals?

I know that it's not for me to order Christian musicians to provide free service for other Christians. It should be a personal decision, not forced. However, all of us Christians are living in the world but we are not of the world. Why, exactly, have some people decided that copyright law is a crucial part of Christian ethics? What happened to the principle of doing the right thing and serving God's people without expectation of reward? I think a strong case could be made that Christians who serve in music ministry are a bit like missionaries who don't demand money from the church but depend on God's provision. God's provision is not in forced payments from reluctant Christians, but in gifts offered freely and generously in recognition of missionaries' needs.

When thinking about this issue, I can't help but think about Keith Green, who refused to ask for money for his recordings and concerts. And yet God provided.

man on fire

You may remember that a while ago I said I was having issues weighing up the God of the Old Testament who instructed the Israelites to slaughter their enemies, men, women and children, and the God who seems much less foreign to me, the God of love.

Well, for the first time since then, I've read something that actually ventured to weigh up the two without sounding like a massive cop-out. It's on one of my new favourite blogs, Stuff Christians Like, and here is the link. When I started reading, I thought - huh? Keep reading and I think you may be surprised.

a bundle of parallel thoughts

1. I don't know what I am being called to do with my life. I keep meeting missionaries or hearing them speak and feeling like there is such singleminded passion there, kept under singleminded control... It drives my life and my current direction into stark contrast as a mix-up of ideas with no real mission. I don't know what I am being asked to do and it would be nice to know there is something. I don't mean I have to preach standing on a box in the Amazon rainforest or deepest Africa or something. In fact, I know that's not my path in life! But hearing people who work for agencies like Wycliffe Bible Translation... it makes me wonder whether I made the right choices when I gave up on Linguistics, or decided it was silly and self-indulgent to study Biblical Greek. It's not too late to go back, but then again I don't think I want to, and maybe my task is to be right where I am. I don't know!! Does anyone? All I can do is pray that God will lead me, and that I won't simply continue just to walk through open doors in the assumption that God opened them for me.

2. Meanwhile, I am undergoing a new regime in my behaviour, and it is astonishing me. After my crisis described in an earlier post ("my testimony"), I've been really happy, and also really determined not to slip into apathy again. One of my steps has been to start reading the Bible every day. In the past I've thought it made most sense to follow where the Spirit led, in a way, and just read whatever I felt like. A nice thought, but I've come to know myself a bit better and have accepted that I need discipline and routine - or the Bible reading just doesn't happen. So I bought a book called For the Love of God, by D. A. Carson, the theory being that if I have paid for something I will feel bound to use it! This follows one of those read-the-Bible-in-a-year programmes, and also has a reading written by Carson for every day. So every day I read a chapter of four different books. At the moment, I am six days in, having just read Genesis 6, Matthew 6, Ezra 6, Acts 6. I am amazed. Even on the days when I read a bit carelessly, things have just gone much more smoothly. The old temptations still turn up but I just don't want to act on them anymore. They're not that interesting. I am hoping this lasts and so I am determined to continue with the Bible reading.

3. No specifics here, because it's someone else's private matter, but I am feeling incredibly sad because someone I care about a lot, I have heard, is getting a divorce. I feel so guilty for hearing about this via the old 'don't-pass-this-around-to-everyone-but...' gossip. And I feel so miserable for this person who very obviously adored their spouse not too distantly in the past. And I know this is asking too much of anyone but I had hoped that this person and their spouse were the one exception in an environment of failed marriages. It's been hanging over me like a depressing cloud all day and all I can do is pray for him/her and hope that their faith in God gets them through this.

prayer

Let's all pray for Australia at the moment, in its deadly struggle against the fires currently rampaging through certain tinder-dry areas, which have already claimed 84 lives and destroyed whole towns. In a cruel twist, the floods in the north have sent crocodiles into the towns, who are also claiming lives.

Pray that if any people have been responsible for starting the fires, they will be caught and stopped quickly.

keeping the faith...

... by sitting on mountain tops.

I've been away. My other blog describes it, in much detail, but for me the highlight was climbing a mountain in Fiordland. We walked up through the most beautiful ferny forest and then burst out from the treeline into the mountains. Once at the top, nothing could be seen for miles but mountains, and all I wanted to do was sit on my rock and absorb it all.

Being a modern woman, I know that heaven isn't physically up, but still, sitting on top of a mountain makes me feel closer to God. It's a sensual experience; I simply don't have time to rationalise or overanalyse anything; my head is too full to think of anything. Paradoxical? Maybe. But I think there's a reason the ancients worshipped God on his mountains.

Sometimes I feel like I have glimpses of eternity, like for a fraction of a moment of a flash, I can see God in all his bigness - but I can never grasp it. On the top of a mountain, the sensation reverses itself. There is a long, drawn-out awareness of God around me and within me, but I can't even explain what I am seeing. I don't care about all my questions anymore, I just want to praise God.

And then I drag myself away, and I walk down the mountain. Every little plant, every leaf is bright and good and I like to go slowly and take it all in.

Sing to the LORD a new song,

his praise from the ends of the earth,

you who go down to the sea, and all that is in it,

you islands, and all who live in them.
Let the desert and its towns raise their voices;

let the settlements where Kedar lives rejoice.

Let the people of Sela sing for joy;

let them shout from the mountaintops.
Let them give glory to the LORD

and proclaim his praise in the islands.

Isaiah 42:10-12

nature, red in tooth and claw

I've been thinking about nature recently. Nature with a capital N, I suppose. Don't worry, I'm not going to launch into a glowing account of fluffy bunnies and cute little ladybirds. I'm thinking more of "nature, red in tooth and claw". Or the Nature that you hear about on the news. It's hard to avoid thinking about it, actually, at the moment.

We've been having a lot of deaths, near-deaths, and accidents in New Zealand lately. It's summer, it's beautiful, and it's deceptively dangerous. Every few days there seems to be something else in the news. One woman has been missing for over a week on a tramping track and is probably dead, two men were crushed when they ventured too close to the Fox Glacier and tons of ice fell on them, one man died and another only just survived when they were stranded on Mt Cook for days in a howling blizzard, a child drowned while waterskiing, a boatload of two adults and three children were lost in raging seas for a day, and more. The world seems so small now, and humans so big, that I think we forget to take Nature seriously and these sorts of things happen.

We are tiny little insignificant beings caught in huge forces and if we are in the wrong place at the wrong time, we are defenceless. It is amazing how quickly we wither when we don't have the tools of civilisation any longer.

And although I'm not going to equate Nature with God, these thoughts echo some of my other developing thoughts. I've always considered God as good because he should be, almost as though I set the rules for what is good and what is not. If he does something I don't understand, I disapprove or try to ignore it, thinking of God as bound to my notions of good. In the past, people might explain some of these issues to me by asking "Who are you to challenge God?" And I would think, well, that's all well and good but it's not exactly a rational argument, and, well, it's not very nice. An authoritarian God seems so different from 'gentle Jesus, meek and mild'.

Perhaps I underestimated God, like we underestimate Nature.

I do still think that God has no choice but to be good; his nature is intrinsically good and that cannot change. However, for the first time I've learnt to take their point. Considering God and his awesome power, displayed in a much lesser extent in the sweeping power of Nature, which he created... well, maybe I've learnt a little more humility. I've learnt to see the point of people like C. S. Lewis, who described Aslan, the Lion who symbolised God in the Narnia Chronicles, as "dangerous", or "not a tame lion". The God of the Old Testament, so terrifying that we could not bear to look upon him, is a crucial part of the nature of God that I've only just learned to accept.

And at the same time, I haven't lost any of my idealism. To think that such a God loved us, when really he could have annihilated us with ease and no one could have stopped him - that God came to us, humbled himself, died for us... Although it seems a paradox, maybe in order to really understand the Cross, the ultimate sign of God's love and closeness to us, we also need to recognise God's BIGNESS and POWER and SCARINESS.

my testimony

Here it is, the promised testimony-of-sorts. I found I had a whole heap of expectations of what a testimony is supposed to be like and this doesn't really slot into them - in fact, it's more like a normal blog post. But it feels more to me like the message I need to say than any "I was born in 1986 to a Christian family" sort of testimony. Here goes.

I haven't really written anything of substance on here for a while, because if I was honest, I was afraid someone I know might read it and think differently of me, and if I lied, I knew whatever I came out with would be hypocritical. I've actually already managed to be a hypocrite and liar on my other blog, when I wrote that the "spiritual course of up-and-downs" I've been through this year had left me stronger.

Actually, I've been having a really hard time. And this is the first time I have admitted it to anyone. The shame of it felt too much to bear on my own and yet the shame of it held me back from confiding in anyone. Everyone I know seems to have such a joyful, exemplary Christian life whereas I am a failure. I have all the book-knowledge; I can put on my special voice and argue free will over predestination. I also actually believe it all. But! I want to do things that God doesn't want me to do, and although I guess I've always struggled with this it suddenly all crept up on me in the last month or two and I could think of nothing but what I wanted to do. I even came to the firm decision that I was going to do this, although I knew it was a bad idea, I would regret it, and it would make things even harder for me in my faith - maybe draw me away from God permanently. A big change, because in the past, even if I was having what Christians like to call a "dry patch", I always firmly believed I would never lose my faith. In a way, I just stopped caring, a few weeks ago, or even trying to pull myself away from it all.

I felt like here I was, wanting these things, letting them take me over, paying no heed to God - and somewhere, far away, my spirit was crying out for help, even though I didn't want it to. Thank you very much, God, but I don't want to be drawn out of the Slough of Despond. It was my body first, from now on, then my soul, and my spirit a clear third.

In all fairness, I decided, I should give my spirit a chance. Its last chance. Even if I didn't care so much about myself now, I did care about my father, and my family, who I didn't want to grieve by going off the deep end.

So I made a few token gestures. In the past I had found a prayer group with some of my closest friends incredibly helpful - friends whom I didn't mind being honest with, even if I lost Christian-cred because of it. So I emailed them all and started organising a prayer meeting with a few of them for this year. But this is unlikely to start at least for a month or so, and by this time I was losing it.

All the while I avoided looking at myself, because I knew I hated what I saw. I am everything, at the moment, that I never wanted to be, and most of all a hypocrite. I haven't done what I have set out to do, yet, but I've never believed that the deed alone makes us sinners. The very fact that I have set out to do something wrong makes me a sinner, not only helpless, but determinedly helpless. I have never had any patience with people who change the Bible to suit what they want to do, and I knew that it was either a case of choosing to turn my back on its teachings, or to give up the path I was about to set foot on. Reject it entirely or accept it all. The fact that I was very close to giving it up made me despise myself as a weakling.

I don't know how to describe what happened next. However, I can say that I wondered why God wasn't fighting harder for me. I was aware that I was being tossed around by the devil and wasn't putting up much resistance, but isn't a spiritual battle meant to be tougher than this? Then the following things happened:

Last night
I listened to "Rock of Ages", sung by Chris Rice. This is the most played song on my iPod but I hadn't listened to it for a couple of months, maybe because it's like an arrow into me.
One verse of it in particular:

Nothing in my hand I bring
Simply to thy cross I cling
Naked, come to thee for dress
Helpless, look to thee for grace
Foul, I to the fountain fly
Wash me, Saviour, or I die.

Suddenly, old feelings came flooding back on me. I had felt helpless before, but never this much, and I have certainly never felt this "foul". A strong word but entirely appropriate.

This morning
I was in a bad mood all morning at church, reluctant to talk to anyone. Just before I left, though, my old Sunday School teacher, a woman who quite possibly has a heart the size of Canada, and a freaky spiritual instinct, came up to me, asked me how I was, blah de blah de blah - all lies on my side, of course. Finally: "You know, the Lord has had you in my mind rather a lot for the last couple of weeks."

That was all. No forcing of confidences. But I'm sure she saw a shocked look in my eyes which I quickly hid and was confirmation enough that no, I wasn't just fine. On the other hand, I came to the conclusion that God has been fighting for me and it wasn't just me on my own versus the devil.

Tonight
I went along to my church on campus, skeptical that I would hear anything new enough to shock me. A speaker, Chris Greene from London, spoke on the servant king of Mark chapter 10, who said:

For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his
life as a ransom for many.

Not exactly words I haven't heard before. Although the talk wasn't the same old same old, it did repeat the old gospel message... that we, the scum of the earth, have been given the gift of life by a Saviour who loved us so much, so undeservedly, that he died for us. That, like blind Bartimaeus who asked only for mercy, we too can receive sight. That sin is a stranglehold for which Jesus paid the ransom. [You can listen to the sermon here if you would like.]

I will always be shocked by this when I am least expecting it. We sang a song, this one by Stuart Townend, and there was a verse I couldn't sing because I was all choked up and it would be too embarrassing to collapse into tears in front of an entire congregation.

When I'm stained with guilt and sin,
He is there to lift me, heal me and forgive me,
Gives me strength to stand again,
Stronger than I was before.

Why do I forget this? How do I manage to be shocked every time by the depth of God's love? This God we're talking about is the God who has limitless power, who could snuff me out with the lift of a finger - the God who chose to die, so that he could know me.

So with every breath that I am given,
I will sing salvation's song.
And I'll join the chorus of creation
Giving praise to Christ alone.

So now I am:
A little humbler.
A little happier.
A little more determined not to fall away.
A little more grateful to God.

the Church

So the promised testimony is still coming... but here's something else in the meantime.

My favourite things about the practice of Christianity in the Church (in no particular order)

1. Christmas and Easter. The happiest times of the year.

2. Hymns. Not all of them. But the best of them are amazing. My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose went forth and followed thee ... My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought - my sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to his cross, and I bear it no more, praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh my soul! ... One with himself I cannot die, my soul is purchased with his blood, my life is hid with Christ on high ... Could my zeal no respite know, could my tears forever flow, all for sin could not atone, Thou must save and Thou alone. Etc. I could go on and on.

3. Prayer groups. There's something about meeting with a group of people and all praying together about the world, your country, your city, your church and yourselves that goes so much deeper than ordinary friendship.

4. Charities and social work. Daily proof that Christianity is a real, living faith that propels people towards the good. This, to my mind, is more important than the strictly rational arguments for Christianity. It also is much more powerful than all the arguments combined of Richard Dawkins and his whole crew of Christianity-bashers.

5. Shared meals. :) Mmm, the taste of fellowship.

6. Grassroots Christlikeness. Even though the Church has officially not been especially praiseworthy in some eras of history (for example, Nazi Germany), even though our leaders have failed sometimes, the real Church, Christ's body, independent of its leaders, has risen up in support of the persecuted. Not everyone, sadly, but a significant number.

7. Acceptance no matter where you come from or what you look like. (see #7 in the next list also, though)

8. Awareness of all our needs. Spiritual, physical, monetary, rational, emotional, intellectual, musical! The list could go on.

9. Encouragement to continue. I find that even when I am having a really bad day, or just don't feel like paying much attention, even then I always hear something at church that buoys me up to keep going another week, challenges me, or makes me think.

My least favourite things about the practice of Christianity in the Church

1. Hypocrisy (me included). The obvious objection. To some extent we are all guilty of this, although most of us have never claimed to be perfect. I think the real harm comes when someone has been publicly outspoken about certain moral standards and then is discovered to be breaking them himself. And all of us feel the repercussions.

2. Televangelists. I guess I don't have a blanket dislike of them, but the ones I have seen seem always to be shouting at their congregations, preaching the Bible extremely questionably, preaching self-help while ignoring the Bible except for a pithy quote here or there twisted to suit their purposes, or asking for money.

3. Churches that are like a brandname. Naming no names, but I dislike corporate Christianity. I am not saying these churches do no good - I'm sure they do - but they're not my type of place.

4. Historically embarrassing and permanently damaging things like the Crusades.

5. Slipping standards. To some extent we live in a modern world and have to accomodate this, but we were never told by Christ to try and make everyone happy, to offend no one. Christ himself stepped on a lot of toes, and I don't see why we should alter our core beliefs just to suit the mood of the times.

6. Leaders who give us all a bad name. I guess this links up with #1 - hypocrisy.

7. Exclusion. Although in my experience I have been accepted by Christians wherever I go, I have seen or heard about many others being excluded - whether for their age, their skin colour, their class/socio-economic status, their opinions... Such exclusion makes me sad, angry and incredibly embarrassed.

8. The fact that it is possible to go to church and continue to delude yourself that living a decent life is all that matters. I'm horrified sometimes at how many people think this is okay theology, but it's even more horrifying when you realise that they are not receiving teaching at their churches that makes them rethink this.

imagining

Being someone who wants to be an author, and has always scribbled down stories, however terrible, I have a certain amount of skill in imagining what it's like to be other people. Maybe 'skill' is the wrong word but you will understand what I mean. I think a problem with this for me, though, is that I am so fixated on understanding how other people feel that I'm not always sure how I feel, or their feelings override mine.

Especially in terms of my faith. Although I don't feel this way at all, I can understand so easily why other people may blame God for suffering, or may dislike Christians, and so on and so on. I am so good at this that I am unable to articulate why I disagree, because their feelings are uppermost in my mind.

I've realised, though - to be a healthy Christian and a healthy person, I need to be able to say why these things are not insuperable problems for me. I need to express my feelings. So I'm going to write my testimony over the next couple of weeks, after which I will post it on here.

God is good

Well, if you've seen my other blog, you'll know that my family has had a scare with my wee nephew having heart surgery just over a week ago. He has recovered well so far and went home from the hospital today, hooray! In fact, everything pretty much went to plan.

I knew from the start it had been a close call, from several things my sister said, but I didn't want to ask for too many details, especially while the operation hadn't been done. It turns out, though, if the constriction of the aortic arch which caused this whole hoohaa had been discovered only a week later, he probably would not have survived. And discovering it in the first place was a giant stroke of luck - he had been taken to the GP because he wasn't putting on enough weight, who referred him to the paediatrician just in case, who noticed a heart murmur, who referred him to a cardiac specialist.

God is very, very good.

future

Firstly: church today. I'm afraid I have no bullet-pointed list of how I have resolved my tricky bit, Wednesday's blog post. Still, somehow I feel a lot lighter in spirit.

Secondly: part of the reason for this could be, well, it's spring! I'm not going to rhapsodise over daffodils and lambs here, because that's what I've just done over at U2 vs Jane Austen, but I will say - thank you, God, for giving us the seasons, and especially for giving us spring.

It doesn't explain away anything. It doesn't present some complex theological/philosophical argument. It doesn't let me forget that although it's lovely for me, there are people whom daffodils don't help.

But it does remind me of the dawn that follows the dark. It reminds me that if I hang in there, spring is coming, and with it daffodils and bluebells and sun. One day, all the things I don't understand now are simply going to evaporate into a deeper understanding, an understanding that comes from seeing. Seeing things I could not have imagined while I dwelt in the shadowlands of winter.

a tricky bit

When you march up to attack a city, make its people an offer of peace. If they accept and open their gates, all the people in it shall be subject to forced labor and shall work for you. If they refuse to make peace and they engage you in battle, lay siege to that city. When the LORD your God delivers it into your hand, put to the sword all the men in it. As for the women, the children, the livestock and everything else in the city, you may take these as plunder for yourselves. And you may use the plunder the LORD your God gives you from your enemies. This is how you are to treat all the cities that are at a distance from you and do not belong to the nations nearby.

However, in the cities of the nations the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance, do not leave alive anything that breathes. Completely destroy them—the Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites—as the LORD your God has commanded you. Otherwise, they will teach you to follow all the detestable things they do in worshiping their gods, and you will sin against the LORD your God.
Deuteronomy 20 vv 10-18

I'm not going to lie - this passage bothers me.

This week my European history lecturer who specialises in the Holocaust, among other things, was telling us about mass killings throughout history. He read this out as an example of genocide and instead of feeling like I had a legitimate case to feel offended or attacked, I couldn't help thinking - Wow. That's kind of a good point.

How does this passage connect with the Jesus of the gospels?

The standard explanations that people offer for this sort of passage seem to be:

(a) How dare you question God?

(b) If they didn't do that, those tribes would wipe them out later. There would be implacable enmity between these tribes and Israel.

(c) That's okay and unproblematic, because it's genocide for a good cause.

Well, in response to (a) - That's not good enough for me. I am aware of the principle behind it which is essentially good, I think, but in this case, it's not enough. I don't think God wants us simply to ignore bumps in the path. He wants us to climb over them, not around.

And (b) - isn't it possible that genocidal actions by the Israelites would help create this implacable enmity?

Finally (c) - NO. NO. No way! I have spent my entire year reading the writings of people who tried to make that same excuse for the brutal murder of millions in the Soviet Union and there is no way I'm ever going to raise that as a valid argument.

To be fair, my lecturer did not read out the last verse, about these tribes teaching them to fall away from God. Which is at least a reason I can understand.

Still, I don't feel entirely comfortable about it. Probably no one should. Don't worry - I'm not losing my faith or something. This is one of those Issues that comes up for me every now and then and takes a bit of thought and discussion and prayer. I'll keep you posted.

Any two cents to offer?

does this make me a heretic?

Lately I've been enjoying poking fun at hymns. (Don't worry, the only reason I'm not poking fun at modern songs is because they can be so dire that I can't even laugh at them.)

A favourite of mine (and my Dad's) is one verse of "O God of matchless grace". It starts:
'Tis meet that Thy delight
Should centre in Thy Son...
Once you've got past the weird language - that's right! Well done, God! It's proper that you like your Son. You can rest assured that we approve.

One of my Mum's favourites was this:
I have heard of showers of blessings
Thou art scattering full and free
Showers the thirsty land refreshing
Let some droppings fall on me

Self-explanatory, I think.

She also said that when she was a kid she couldn't stand singing "O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer's praise" - she couldn't help imagining a bunch of disembodied tongues singing by themselves.

I hate this particular one:
God holds the key of all unknown,
And I am glad;
If other hands should hold the key,
Or if He trusted it to me,
I might be sad (I might be sad).
That's right - God, you hold on to this key (whatever it is), because if you don't, (o horrors!) I might be sad. And you wouldn't like that.

Then there's the really old-timer songs, which my Dad recently found in his old boxes of stuff. The songs where everyone's happy.
On Monday I am happy
On Tuesday full of joy
Wednesday has a faith
The devil can't destroy.
On Thursday, and Friday
I'm walking in the light
Saturday's a victory
And Sunday a delight

Ain't that right, folks? Doesn't that reflect the Christian walk to a T?

Seriously.

I am a big fan of hymns, especially as they are being chucked out in favour of repetitive and unpoetic songs that will be out of fashion next year, except for a few token old songs that no one can possibly object to and which can be fiddled with and put in a modern format. But I can't agree with the purists who say that modern songs lack depth, and all old songs can give that to us.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think it helps anyone who's struggling or being attacked or dying or loves someone who's dying to have to stand in church on a Sunday and sing a song about how everything's a breeze when God is in our lives.

These are two verses of "Trust and Obey", which we coincidentally had to sing at church soon after my Mum died:
When we walk with the Lord
in the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will,
He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.

Not a shadow can rise,
not a cloud in the skies,
But His smile quickly drives it away;
Not a doubt or a fear,
not a sigh or a tear,
Can abide while we trust and obey.

I get it. I get that the point behind the song is that things are better when God is in our lives. I could see that at the time. But it didn't help to have such drivel pushed down my throat, without any recognition that what I was going through was difficult. I do not agree that this sort of song has depth.

What I ask for is thought going into the songs we are asked to sing. Both old and new, Christian songs should be songs that we can sing honestly. We tend to quote the psalms a lot in our music - but do we quote those unhappy psalms (quite a lot of them) which make it clear that life is not heaven? Even with God in it?

The really good hymns which in my opinion no modern song has yet come close to beating are those which reflect a cry from the human heart for God. A cry that loses none of its power over time. Such as this:

Rock of Ages, cleft for me
Let me hide myself in thee
Let the water and the blood
From thy wounded side which flowed
Be for sin the double cure
Save from wrath and make me pure

Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfill thy law's demands
Could my zeal no respite know
Could my tears forever flow
All for sin could not atone
Thou must save and thou alone

Nothing in my hand I bring
Simply to the cross I cling
Naked, come to Thee for dress
Helpless, look to Thee for grace
Foul, I to the fountain fly
Wash me, Savior, or I die

While I draw this fleeting breath
When mine eyes shall close in death
When I soar to worlds unknown
See Thee on Thy judgment throne
Rock of Ages, cleft for me
Let me hide myself in Thee.

being convincing

Recently I've heard (or heard about) a few talks given by Christians trying to address questions or problems of non-believers. I want to say right from the start that I respect their effort very much indeed and I know those kind of talks can do a lot of good. They inevitably come up against a lot of criticism, some of which is very uninformed, and I think they are very brave, especially those who make an effort in an environment like my university, which seems to be just getting more and more anti-Christian.

I would like to respectfully suggest, however, a few things (for any of these speakers who may happen to read this blog which is unlikely):

For someone like myself, who has been trained to some extent in academic ways of thinking, I don't find these talks very helpful. Although I'm already on your side and agree in the end with the basis of what you're trying to say, it always seems to me like you're repeating arguments that have been used again and again ... and again. I'm not sure how many times now I've heard the analogy of the tornado causing a Boeing 747 to come together to discredit the "chance" theory of evolution, but it's a lot; likewise, asking me if I knew that only a few metres difference to the circumference of the Earth would make the planet unhabitable (or something like that) has been asked so very often that it loses its power as an example. It comes across quite clearly that these talks are standardized, and that Christians are encouraged to take these examples and repeat them - which seems a bit like spoonfeeding to me. Also, someone like myself doesn't just hear an argument like that and accept it as fact. I want to know where the footnotes are.

I really think the only way to approach debates like these is to focus on specific arguments. A recent series of talks at my university has been, ostensibly, on Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion. However, according to at least one non-Christian observer, they really weren't so much about Dawkins' argument, focusing instead on the sort of argument given above. In my opinion, especially in a talk given to a university audience, there is absolutely nothing wrong with taking Dawkins' thesis and refuting it, point by point. This may be more "intellectual" or "highbrow" but Dawkins did not write to a lowbrow audience, and his argument must be responded to from the same footing as he is on. Dumbing it down is not going to help our case.

It is also a very smart move to anticipate the objections of people to your talk. For example, in this particular series, apparently the speaker said that it's illogical to presume that life can come from no life. Yes. It is. However, the immediate reaction of the non-Christian observers in our university's magazine was to say, well, then: where did God come from? As far as they said, anyway, the speaker offered no explanation for this question which naturally follows his assertion.

Also, I'm not convinced that following the Creator argument is the best way to go. I think any defence of Christianity must begin with a defence of the Bible. Everything else is just unproven assertions, unless you can convincingly defend the Bible's historical accuracy and internal consistency (which I think can be done plausibly and compellingly). This is what seems to bother thinking non-Christians the most about Christianity, at least in my world. Yes, the world is an amazing place, yes, Jesus is an attractive figure who cannot be delegated away as just a prophet or a nice man - but can we believe what he has to say? This is crucial, and ignoring the historical evidence for Christianity just leaves you open to criticism. I really don't think non-Christians have a very good case at all for attacking the Bible's accuracy and consistency, but if we don't prove this, they will raise objections which sound plausible to those who know nothing about how the Bible was written.

Even if you disagree, and think that the Creator argument is the most important here, I really think we Christians need to be creative in our arguments. We need to show thinking people that we haven't simply swallowed what our preacher, or authors such as C. S. Lewis, G. K. Chesterton, Tim Keller or Lee Strobel, have to say. (Although I find their books very helpful, simply quoting them is not enough.) We need to show that we can think for ourselves, and still find the gospel convincing.

Just a few ideas.

evil

I went to see Batman: The Dark Knight on Monday, which was absolutely no disappointment. I had wondered if Heath Ledger's role was hyped up a bit given his sad death, but he really was as good as everyone had claimed in the role of the Joker. A scary, incredibly believable "motiveless malignity" as some have called Iago in Shakespeare's Othello. Now that I've puffed off my knowledge of Shakespeare :) I can continue.

The thought popped into my head during the movie at different times: if only the real world could be so black and white, good and evil. If only we could pick the villains out easily and the real problem was deciding how to respond to them. Of course, the real world is sometimes like that, and it's not exactly pleasant to be one of those people, deciding whether to court death or go along with evil. And it's probably a mark of my incredibly easy life (which I should be thankful for) that I sometimes wish life were more difficult. That evil was always tangible to other people, and that there was a clear process of picking sides.

But then I realised, evil does translate from a movie like Batman into this world. They say that the role of the Joker really messed up Heath Ledger, and caused his death. I have no idea how accurate that is, but if it is, there's a picture of the overwhelming darkness of evil that comes through into any life and can take it over. I feel so saddened for a really great actor that he couldn't find the resources to fight this evil but it makes me even more aware of how determinedly evil must be fought, in all our lives, day to day. Darkness is underneath the surface of even the Western, democratic, fairly non-repressive world, but sometimes tricks us into thinking it's not important, or not powerful. That delusion must be fought.

am I indoctrinated?

Sometimes it's easy to worry that if you hadn't been brought up in a Christian family (which is the case for many Christians, especially in the West), the Christian message would have no appeal for you. Correct me if I'm wrong. Or replace the "you" in that first sentence with "I".

I'm sure there's an element of truth to the idea. It definitely makes it easier in some cases to become a Christian if you've grown up in a Christian family, if you've seen the fruits of a genuine Christian lifestyle, or even, sadly, if you feel pressured to do the same thing as your parents. Growing up hearing stories about Jesus or Bible characters makes it so much easier to understand what the Bible's about, later. Even if this does count to some extent as spoonfeeding, the opposite is true - it's easier to become a Christian when you haven't been spoonfed or indoctrinated in anti-Christian ideas as you grow up.

Besides that idea, though - that everyone is indoctrinated into certain ideas by their parents - it can still be worrying to think that you are perhaps trapped in your worldview, unable to think outside the Christian box.

I met a seven year old girl last night, the daughter of one of the pastors at the student church I attend. She is obviously a smart little kid, quite sensitive, and has grown up hearing Christianity all around her. She showed me her new Bible, which is pink, and the passages she had highlighted. I was especially amused when she told me this was one of her favourite passages:

Egypt shall become a desolation
and Edom a desolate wilderness,
for the violence done to the people of Judah,
because they have shed innocent blood in their land.
But Judah shall be inhabited forever,
and Jerusalem to all generations.
I will avenge their blood,
blood I have not avenged,
for the LORD dwells in Zion. Joel 3:19-21.

:) Rather sweet.

Then she told me she was going to ask her dad a question about something he had said in his sermon on guidance - what exactly was an apostle? She thought maybe it was a bit like in a flock of penguins, some of the strong older male penguins circle round and round the group, keeping the mothers and babies safe.

Well, I'm not sure how theologically correct that is, but this is what it said to me: If a child like this, who has spent her entire life absorbing Christianity, and still hasn't been exposed to much of the other stuff, can come up with an explanation as imaginative yet valid as that, it bodes well for her spiritual autonomy.

There is so much room for imagination within Christianity. One way this reveals itself is in the denominations, although this is often seen as a negative thing that holds us back from unity. But from what I've learnt in my study this year of Stalin's Russia, there's unity and then there's unity. Absolute, unflinching unity of thought and speech is never a good thing among humans, although we can still be the body of Christ, united in our love for him.

Besides that, the Bible is not like a textbook for mathematics; follow these steps and these rules and you will come out with the right interpretation. A single verse can be relevant (in context) to many differing things, without having to cut out all other methods or interpretations.

I would actually say, and I say this thoughtfully, that all my background of studying the Bible has made it a lot easier for me at university to be imaginative in my interpretation of events (History) or writings (English).

Anyway, here's what I think: I am not indoctrinated, although maybe in the past or even now there are things I believe without having thought much about the reasons why. I know my faith is my own. I have an imagination. I can think outside my Christian box. We should all try to get away from believing things "just because" we always have done so. But that doesn't mean our thought is limited any more than the average non-Christian, and perhaps our imagination is even opened up by the things we have been taught in youth.