By Kevin M

In light of the Thanksgiving holiday, we’re going to take a break from the regular fare of careers and money on this site. There are, after all, some things that are more important than money—and even careers! One of them is marked by this very holiday, but I think it often gets lost in the shuffle.

We’ll be sitting down to celebrate this holiday we call Thanksgiving, and what is it we will be thankful for? More specifically, who are we giving thanks to? Are we giving thanks to anyone?

The definition of “thanksgiving”

Maybe it would be best if we begin with a definition. Dictionary.com provides the following definitions of the term “thanksgiving” (little “t”):

“thanksgiving–noun 1. the act of giving thanks; grateful acknowledgment of benefits or favors, esp. to god. 2. an expression of thanks, esp. to God. 3. a public celebration in acknowledgment of divine favor or kindness. 4. a day set apart for giving thanks to God.”

Notice that though the word itself is a noun, each of the definitions given describes an action—the giving of thanks. More specifically, it lists a divine entity—even more specifically, God, or a “god”—as the object of that action.

When we give thanks, we don’t merely put ourselves into some sort of state of thankfulness, as though it’s some sort of zone we enter where we’re at peace with the world. No, we’re directing that act/emotion to a source outside ourselves—the source we identify as providing the bounty we enjoy.

The many distractions of modern life

What ever personal definitions we want to assign to it, what ever modern re-interpretations may be floating out there in the pop culture, the Thanksgiving holiday is a day set aside specifically for the purpose of giving thanks to that Higher Power.

It’s probably easier for us to deny that Power than at any other time in history. Surrounded by modern conveniences—cars, televisions, music, computers and videos, comfortable in our temperature controlled homes, and having access to a pill to cure what ever seems to ail us—we can insulate ourselves for the “need” for any help that others before us sought from the divine.

But do modern conveniences mean that there is no God? At what point in history were we able to break the historic chain of worship and turn to ourselves and the work of our own hands for all of our concerns? And when we come to the end of our lives, can we or our creations preserve our lives, or offer us eternal peace?

A song I learned in elementary school

When I was young, every year around this time of the year, we’d sing the following song:

“We gather together
to ask the Lord’s blessing;
he chastens and hastens
his will to make known.
The wicked oppressing
now cease from distressing.
Sing praises to his name,
he forgets not his own.”
–We Gather Together, by Edward Kremser

We learned this song and sang it in public schools! Merely a generation ago, the meaning of the Thanksgiving holiday was beyond question. It was a public holiday established for the purpose of thanking God for the many blessings He’d given us over the previous year, and even over our entire lifetimes.

What’s changed since then?

The object of my thanks this Thanksgiving

I don’t believe that anything humankind has done—or anything I’ve done personally—somehow means that God no longer exists. Not splitting the atom, landing a man on the moon or perfecting the microchip. While all those developments might impress the heck out of us, to an all powerful, infinite God, they’re the equivalent of ants stacking sand in a neat pile in the woods, and nothing more.

If we have any shred of belief that there is a God—even if we aren’t entirely certain of who He is and what function He plays in our lives—then we have to acknowledge His power over all things. Translation: all blessings come from Him, because nothing can be apart from Him.

Here’s my prayer of thanks on this holiday: I thank God in Heaven for the blessings He’s poured on me all of my life; for the troubles He’s seen me through; for the troubles He’s kept me from; for the time He’s given me in this life; for the people He’s enriched my life with; for the skills and abilities He’s given me; for the balance He’s instilled in the universe that sustains us all. I thank Him for Jesus Christ—His Son and my Lord and Savior; because of Jesus, no matter what I’ve done in the past, am doing in the present or will do in the future—my eternal destiny will remain ever secure.

Am I thankful for my country, my community, my family, my achievements and even the food I’ll eat on Thanksgiving Day? Absolutely! But all are components of the bigger picture blessings God gives us all our lives, often without us even noticing.

Thanksgiving is a prime time for each of us to take a break from our “busy lives” and consider the Eternal. If we’re truly thankful, then we need to seriously ask Who do we give thanks to at Thanksgiving?

PART 5 OF “OUR ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT GOD”

March 13, 2010

By Kevin M

“There are starving children in the world, so how can there be a God?”.

Have you ever heard that question, or a variation of it? Have you maybe wondered about it yourself?

If you’re not a believer, rest assured that even believers wrestle with this question. We see the same injustice and human misery that everyone else does, and yes, we struggle to come to terms with the existence of a loving God in the midst of it. But while as believers we may not fully understand what often looks from a human standpoint to be an apparent contradiction, we don’t allow it to be an obstacle to faith either.

That faith isn’t an abdication of rational thinking, but a willingness to accept some self-evident truths, including this one:

A true God does not exist to serve man

If you’re a believer, that’s a foundational concept. If you think that the proper behavior for an omnipotent God is to please us and make sure we’re always happy, then you seek that which can never be found within the scope of logic.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9, God addresses the Apostle Paul by saying, “…my power is made perfect in weakness”. Ouch! The human side of me, the side that demands earthly justice, doesn’t like that verse one bit! But as the du jour but redundant saying goes, “it is what it is”. I’m not God, I don’t make the rules, but I have to live within them nonetheless.

Some of the apparent conflict in this thinking is that non-believers don’t fully comprehend the concept of “salvation”. In the case of Christianity, salvation is other-worldly, referring to the spiritual saving of the believer for eternal existence with God.

That’s the very definition of faith, believing what you do not see. Most people have such faith in areas other than religion–think about the unbacked currency sitting in your wallet as an example, or our willingness to get into our cars and head for public roads where we’ll risk accidents, injuries or even death. Why do we do it? Because we have some sort of faith that it will be OK.

But back to God and weakness…if as Christianity tells us, that God is seeking man, why must he do it through human tragedy? I would submit that we only “see” God when we’re in a state of weakness and ready to bow down and to accept the unequal nature of the relationship. When we’re doing well, when we feel strong and self-sufficient, we only see ourselves.

When things are going our way, we even develop a heightened sense of our own goodness. How does God see this? Jesus gives us a clue in Luke 18:9-14:

9To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: 10″Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee stood up and prayed about[a] himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

13″But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

14″I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Do you see the consistency of this passage with the concept of human weakness? Only in humility can we even dare to come before God. Against the backdrop of this connection, human tragedy and suffering begin to look more consistent with the idea of a loving God. His purpose is to bring us to him, not to alleviate our suffering and to fix our problems, and it’s through that suffering that we can even begin to perceive him.

Jesus was not an earthly king

None of us can claim that Christianity has disappointed us by somehow not living up to its promise, because in truth it never promised us anything in this world beyond redemption in eternity. The perception that God exists primarily to solve the worlds problems is a man-made concept that isn’t born out in Scripture.

In the exchange between Jesus and the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, the Apostle John records that Pilate asked, “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus’ response: “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:33-36). I think that this exchange gives us a clear idea why the world functions as it does, and why it can even within the existence of a Sovereign God.

Jesus didn’t come to fix the world, to deliver us from our troubles, or even to bring peace on earth and goodwill toward men (the popular Christmas season phrase from Luke 2:14 is cut short, substantially changing its original meaning). Jesus came to reconcile men to God, that “…whoever believes in him (Jesus) shall not perish but have eternal life.”—John 3:16.

We don’t and can’t know the mind of God, but if we did we might come to realize why this is entirely necessary. Understand, I’m not saying that human misery will ever be OK—the Bible even says that God himself grieves over it—but we would come to accept it.

Jesus instructed his disciples that they would face persecution and death for his name’s sake, and yet none of them left the faith in favor of preserving their own lives. What hope was he offering them that kept them from deserting, even after Jesus himself faced public execution by the unspeakable sentence of crucifixion? What would motivate a group of people to face persecution and death for the purpose of advancing a new way of thinking?

A resurrection might do it.

If Jesus had power over death, and God promises us that hope through Jesus, is the human condition the real story, or is there something bigger in motion here?

The Utopian “faith”

The idea of a world without suffering is actually Utopianism. Dictionary.com defines utopian as 1. of, pertaining to, or resembling Utopia. 2. (usually lowercase ) founded upon or involving idealized perfection. 3. (usually lowercase ) given to impractical or unrealistic schemes of such perfection

Religions of all stripes, and Christianity in particular, have had to exist and even compete with Utopian ideas for thousands of years. It isn’t a true competition of course, because Utopianism is based on the notion of a perfect world. Christianity holds that the world isn’t perfect and never will be, and it is precisely this condition that Jesus came to deliver us from.

The job of the Christian is to seek a relationship with God through Jesus Christ, to bring other people into that relationship, with the alleviation of suffering as an effort that flows out of that relationship, not as a stand alone effort. Christianity’s primary purpose isn’t to address the human condition.

If that sounds hypocritical–and I’ll admit that if you’re a non-believer that might seem to be the case at some level–it’s also worth pointing out that no secular efforts have succeeded in alleviating suffering either. In fact, many of history’s most brutal dictators were worldly reformers bent on creating a more perfect world at any price, including human blood. Who can forget Hitler’s infamous claims of developing a “master race”, or the determination of the dictators of the old Soviet Union of engineering a “workers paradise”? Utopian dreams know no limits, and are doomed to fail because that isn’t the world we live in.

Humanity hasn’t done a very good job of alleviating suffering through secular channels, despite many public pronouncements and programs aimed at doing just that. Against that backdrop, faith at least offers hope to the downtrodden in a world that cannot save them. Would it be better to deny them that hope? Is anyone certain that hope isn’t real? What’s the evolutionary purpose of hope at all and why do we have it? Why do only humans have hope? Perhaps it’s because as the Bible tells us, we were made in God’s image.

Do we need a perfect world in order to believe in God?

There are basically two things we can do in regard to human suffering:

1) Pray that God will have mercy on the afflicted, and
2) Do what we can to help in the effort

On a personal note, I’ve found that the world is a better place and life is lived with more peace when we abandon the self-imposed fantasy requirement of a perfect world. Once we ditch our perfect world desires, we can see human misery for what it is, and within it perhaps we see the presence of an Almighty God.

I see the power of God in a world that often seems as if it’s descended into chaos. How is it that the human race, and even life itself, can survive our vast miscalculations, purges and boondoggles? We make much of the concept of synergy—the whole is greater than the sum of it’s parts—but does humanity really operate synergistically, or does humanity live in competition with itself? The evidence for competition is all around us, so how have we survived “survival of the fittest”?

Clearly a Higher Power is holding this ship afloat.

PART 4 OF “OUR ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT GOD”

December 16, 2009

By Kevin M

“More wars are started in the name of religion…”

This common refrain might be the favorite preserve of non-believers all over the planet, but it’s also living proof that if a lie is repeated enough times, it will be accepted as the truth. If you doubt this, start studying some non-religious books—like history books. There have been religious wars in history to be sure, but by far the most and the greatest of human conflicts had nothing to do with religion, or were only superficially religious in nature.

The most popular references to support the assertion obviously are the Crusades and the near perpetual Arab-Israeli conflict. But I wouldn’t be too certain either of those conflicts were or are entirely based on religion either. Ultimately, war is most commonly fought over control of land, people and resources. Attaching a higher purpose—such as religion, freedom, saving the planet, or just about any other we can dream up—is often a latent attempt to add some sort of nobility to a bloody conflict for the purposes of stirring the emotions and drumming up support.

Now I’ll admit that the fact that the Arab-Israeli conflict, with all of its global implications, does tend to give weight to the religion-war connection but this is largely because it is one which has been raging for most of our lives right up to the current day. And the fact that people might strap bombs on their backs, to be detonated in places primarily populated by people of different religions, displays a level of “faith” by the perpetrators that’s as mysterious as it is frightening. But both situations tend to carry exaggerated weight because they’re happening in our own time, and we’re nothing if not shortsighted when it comes to events that came before we did.

Let’s go back deeper in time and take a look at other wars—the really big ones.

Wars down through the centuries

Let’s pose some questions from history relating to some notoriously warlike civilizations, peoples and conquerors.

Did the Roman Empire conquer the known world to spread their religion? The people the Romans conquered were just as pagan as the Romans—were they attempting to bring paganism to the pagans? Or were they invading for the purpose of expanding their empire and control? Did the prospect of revenues from future tax collections influence their march in any way?

What faith drove Attila the Hun to conquer half of Europe?

Was Ghengis Khan a holy man, looking to evangelize at the point of a sword? Was he a closet Christian with a hidden agenda?

Did Napoleon march Christian French armies to conquer and impose their faith on an already Christian Europe, or was he after something else?

Was the American Civil War between the mostly Christian Union and the mostly Christian Confederacy fought in the name of religion?

Did World War 1 have any religious purpose at all?

How many people did the Japanese convert to Shintoism after conquering nearly a third of Asia and a good chunk of the Pacific?

Was Adolf Hitler a devout but misunderstood Christian, bent on eliminating Jews in the name of Jesus Christ (himself a Jew) and waging a war of conquest against Christian Europe?

Did Joseph Stalin and Mao Tse Tung execute internal wars on their own people, killing tens of millions of their own countrymen, in the name of advancing a religion the masses refused to accept? If that’s the case, is communism a religion?

The reality of these conflicts

Communism is an entirely secular philosophy, so is Nazism. In fact, most of the –isms throughout history have been secular in origination and in practice, which has put them in direct conflict and opposition not only to religion, but to most human institutions. For all of the talk and press about “religious intolerance”, it is clear that one of the most pronounced features of the –isms is their inability to coexist with other belief systems. It’s almost always ‘join the movement or perish’.

It can be stated categorically, that all three of the 20th Century’s most notorious dictators (Hitler, Stalin and Mao) were purely secular figures bent on the elimination of religion, including Christianity. Religion was viewed by these men as a dangerous counter philosophy.

The list in the previous section represents most of the biggest bloodlettings in human history, and none of them were an attempt to advance any religion, let alone Christianity. The assertion that more wars are started in the name of religion than anything else is totally invalid as a matter of historical fact. Can we drop the claim as a legitimate reason to reject faith?

Now I’m not attempting to infer that there have never been any truly religious wars fought anytime or anyplace in history, but what I am saying is that those conflicts either tended to be more localized and, generally speaking, not ranking among humanity’s greatest conflagrations.

War and Christianity

Some will argue that when Christians have engaged in and supported the persecution and execution of alleged heretics, witches, the demon possessed and people who refused to convert to the faith or to one of its sub-sects, that they were participating in acts of war. That argument is totally correct.

When Christianity has been involved in war or other acts of violence in the name of promoting or protecting the faith, they were often being either hypocritical (and the Bible has much to say on that particular topic) or they were otherwise disconnected from their faith. I contend that when Christians beat the war drums, it’s usually our politics talking and not our faith. We are guilty on this count and in need of correction.

In Jesus Christ’s own time, there were numerous conflicts taking place within his own country (what we now call Israel) and yet there is no written evidence that he took part in any of the conflicts, or even endorsed one side over another. The easiest and by far the most popular position he could have taken—had he sought power within the context of the human system—would have been to support the overthrow of the conquering Romans by the Jews. Instead he directed his followers to “turn the other cheek” and “do good to those who persecute you”. Are those man-made directives, or are they straight out of the upper regions of Heaven itself?

Why do so many believe that the doctrines of man are somehow “purer” than the doctrines of the faith? We certainly don’t see that in anything Jesus taught or did.

Part of our problem—as Christians, as members of other faiths, as members of the human race—is our attachment to war as a means to an end. War is not a characteristic of the Christian faith, or to most other faiths. But war is part of the human system and we ALL need to take ownership of that fact. Blaming war on religion is not only inaccurate, it’s a complete waste of time.

And here’s the ultimate evidence: eliminate religion from the world and we will still have war; the only thing that will change is that we’ll have one less institution to blame it on.

Study the life and teachings of Jesus Christ if you still believe that “more wars are started in the name of religion…” Is war a function religion, or is it a function of the human system?

PART 3 OF “OUR ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT GOD”

December 10, 2009

By Kevin M

Diversification is an imperative in the financial world, but maybe many of us have taken the liberty of extending its reach into faith as well. How many times during a discussion of faith do we hear a phrase along the lines of “I don’t have a specific faith, I’m spiritual”? Talk about hedging your bets! I believe there’s something, but I’m not sure it can be defined. It’s a thoughtful declaration if we’re looking to discuss faith without the risk of offending someone.

But isn’t that kind of “belief” really more about holding the barn door open so just about anything can wander in? I could be painting with too broad a brush here, but I’ve heard some Spiritualists pushing really deep into the gray zone. Some believe that all faiths contain some elements of truth but none represent the absolute truth, and some open the door even wider by declaring that there are no absolutes.

Spiritualists are virtually a faith category unto themselves. While they don’t ascribe to any single religious faith, they aren’t atheists or even agnostics either. While the atheist denies the existence of God, and the agnostic is a doubter, the Spiritualist does have some sense or awareness of a higher power. He just rejects traditional or conventional faith explanations as possibilities.

It’s my contention that Spiritualism, in its many forms, is the most common faith in Western Civilization, and maybe even the world.

New Age, or just another name for paganism?

Many Spiritualists believe in angels, reincarnation and communing with the dead in some form. That collection of beliefs—in addition to others—is often put under the very large umbrella of New Age. But are you aware that pagans have believed these very things for thousands of years? There’s nothing “new age” about any of it. In fact, Stone Age is far closer to the truth!

And how about the widely accepted notion that good people go to heaven? What’s the dividing line between good people and bad ones? Self-evaluation? Public opinion? What happens to a person if some people would consider him good, while others view him with contempt? Is there a heavenly referendum, an opinion poll, the way we handle these things down here? If you vote faithfully for Democrats are you going to heaven? If you’re convicted of a crime by an earthbound court are you also doomed to eternal damnation? If being a “good person” is all that’s required to go to heaven, then it must be an awfully crowded place because I’ve never met anyone who didn’t believe him- or her-self to be a good person (at the core, of course).

Here’s the basic dilemma with that line of reasoning: we’re all good people in our own eyes. If being a good person is the dividing line between Heaven and Hell, then we’ve elevated ourselves to the level of gods, possessing the ability to grant eternal salvation to ourselves—can we see the absurdity in that?

So what exactly does spiritual mean? If it’s without any definition or order then isn’t it really more like wishful thinking than anything else? No, if there is a God, there has to be something more, something more objective.

OK, back to why I think Spiritualism is the most common faith in the world. There are two basic types of Spiritualist: the one who declares him- or her-self to be one, and the one who is but can’t admit to it. The second group is the more common. These are usually people who were raised in a particular faith, or even continue to practice it, but have only very loose convictions of it.

For example, there are many practicing Christians who believe there are many paths to the same God, that people of other faiths, or even no faith, will attain salvation on their own terms, and the important thing (once again) is to be a good person. But is that what the Christian Bible teaches? Many of the same people also seek counsel from psychics or are open to the possibility of reincarnation and other beliefs that are outside Biblical parameters.

So what’s the big deal with blending different ideas in the area of faith? When you begin playing the mix-and-match game, you’re a Spiritualist. You may attend a Christian church every week, but you’re not completely convinced that it’s the only way. That’s claiming the Christian label while practicing paganism so there are no hard and fast rules to your faith. That’s Spiritualism—faith without parameters.

Isn’t this really just making up our own religion?

In most respects I think that Spiritualism is self protective. It affords the believer many of the benefits provided by traditional faith, including the notion that “someone’s looking out for me”, a connection to something bigger and more enduring, and of course, it offers the promise of eternal life. But what it doesn’t do is give us a list of do’s and don’t do’s that may interfere with our “right” to enjoy our lives. It’s a virtual goodie bag of pleasantries but with nothing that might offend or limit us.

For much of my early adult life, I was a borderline Spiritualist. I LIVED in my questions. They were questions that could never be answered, and as long as they weren’t, I didn’t have to make a hard choice about faith. It seemed right to me that having intelligent questions (as objections) was what sophisticated people did. A strong set of questions can make us sound more intelligent than we really are. But the time comes to get off that fence and accept that some things just are, and we’ll never have all of our questions answered this side of Heaven.

And how important is it in the grand scheme of things that one out of more than six billion people has his questions answered? Alas, I’m not that important. None of us are! It’s only when we stop assigning the role of judge and jury to ourselves that we can become open to true faith.

We don’t have to have all of our questions and concerns addressed in order to accept an overriding truth. Even in the midst of my questions, I was very aware that some sort of spiritual component to human existence was extremely likely. For example, two people have the same disease, undergo the same therapy, but one lives and the other dies; how can that be? A person gets into a car crash in which the car is completely demolished, but he survives with modest injuries; how can that be? In my most secular moments, I always had a notion that Jesus Christ was the true messiah—what was causing me to believe that? Why would anyone believe that? Even though I wasn’t ready to accept it, his claim to messiah-ship was too bold, too off the wall to be ignored. Something had to be going on with that, drawing me toward it.

By the way, I think faith itself is supernatural. Everything in the physical world and within the human system directs us away from it, and yet there’s still something nagging at the human heart telling us that there’s something more. The Spiritualist is keenly aware of this, but doesn’t want to be bound by it.

At some level, I think most Spiritualists have similar questions that keep them from committing. They then ascribe to a smorgasbord of beliefs, sometimes conflicting ones, with the single unifying justification for any component belief that it must feel good. But is that a true faith, or merely a belief system based on our own preferences? More important, is it in any way the pursuit of any sort of higher Truth?

If you’re a Spiritualist—a person who has a strong feeling there must be a diety—but you’re holding back on committing, maybe it’s time to pick a direction. If there is a God, perpetually seeking him isn’t the same as walking with him, and the sooner you begin your walk the sooner the open questions will either be answered or shown to be irrelevant. Either way, it must be acknowledged that in the Eternal scheme of things, the truth is more important than personal preference.

“Choose this day whom you will serve!”–Joshua 24:15

PART 2 of “OUR ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT GOD”

December 2, 2009

By Kevin M

We often hear people recite words to the effect of “I believe there are many paths to the same God.” Are you among them?

In the post-Christian era in which we now live, it’s become politically correct—even considered somehow socially responsible—to frame a discussion of the Creator in this manner. The presumption is that all faiths, all beliefs, what ever they may be, inevitably lead the believer to the One True God.

Some people hide in the apparent confusion of the many world faiths, hoping that truth can be had by staying somewhere in the middle of them all. But while this is a common practice in politics and social situations, is it the proper way to approach the God of the Universe?

Among the monotheistic faiths, consider that true Christianity holds that Jesus Christ is The Messiah, the human incarnation of God himself and the only path to salvation. But Judaism specifically rejects Jesus as The Messiah, and Islam considers him to be a prophet later overshadowed by an even greater emissary of God in the person of Muhammad. While we can (and must) live in peace with people of all faiths, the core beliefs of the worlds three major monotheistic faiths are mutually exclusive; one can’t believe in one without rejecting the others.

Apart from the dividing lines between the monotheistic faiths, Eastern religions (Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, and others) don’t even hold to the belief in a single god, let alone his manifestation in Jesus.

Then there’s pantheism, the belief that “God is in all things, and all things are in God”. At some level this sounds logical, but we need to ask if the Holocaust or other tragedies were somehow “of God”. Does the same God to whom we ascribe love and mercy, also act as the force behind wanton evil and rampant destruction? The flaw in pantheism is that it essentially reduces God to meaninglessness by putting him in opposition to himself.

Finally, there’s the Personal God—the God we seek on our own terms. This is the God who fits neatly into our lifestyles, the God who doesn’t tick us off. We can discard any religious teaching that offends us, to bring it right down to our own comfort levels. A Religion of One, you might say, with us at the center.

What’s wrong with any of that?

The problem with all these assumptions is that none of them involve actually seeking the true God of the Universe, not nearly as much as they attempt to keep our options open. We can pray to “God” for deliverance from an affliction or crisis one day, then return to a completely secular and irreverent life the next. We can pray to the God of Israel in the morning, then practice Zen the rest of the day. In our own minds there’s no conflict. But if there is a God—and if there isn’t then to whom is it that we direct our prayers in those dark moments—the more relevant question centers on how he sees this arrangement.

In Part 1 of this series, But I Think God Is…, we established that if there is a God, then he has absolute power over us–if he has anything less then why even bother to pray? Would such a limited god be even remotely capable of answering our prayers? If we can pray for his help in a time of need, but ignore him at all other times, then what we’re really meaning when we say “God” is a genie in a lamp, or even Santa Claus—both are with us on an as-needed-only basis and are entirely the stuff of fantasy. Is that the God to whom we pray?

Consider this concept against the introductory language of the Ten Commandments:

“…for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, 6 but showing love to a thousand {generations} of those who love me and keep my commandments.”—Exodus 20:5-6 (NIV)

Now if God is real, and he said something this strong, it seems to me that he takes this “One God” policy thing pretty serious. And though I don’t profess to speak for God, I’m guessing that he takes our pronouncements like “many paths to the same God” in about the same way that we view flies at a picnic. Is it any wonder that at times it seems as if God IS angry, something that even those with the most indefinite views of faith find conceivable.

Like it or not, the Kingdom of God is NOT a democracy!

This gets to the heart of the entire “God discussion”—most people approach their beliefs in a manner consistent with a human political system, where we have choices on who to vote for, or what referendums to approve. Further, if we don’t like what our politicians do once in office, we can call and complain to them, get petitions going or even vote them out of office.

Is that how faith functions, like a democracy? God, subject to the whim of Man? Isn’t that a reversal of the order?

The idea of some sort of democratic Eternal Kingdom is strictly a concept in the human mind. A God with absolute power over us does not need to seek our approval or even our opinions. This is a difficult concept for us to grasp in our human weakness, but logically, it is the only rational conclusion.

Ultimately, it is God himself who determines what truth is and how it is that he wishes to be approached (what we would call faith or religion). We can consider as many ways to approach this as humanity can dream up, but only one of them is the right one, and this is the challenge to us all.

If we believe in God in any way, we need to pick ONE path and seek him. Hiding in confusion isn’t seeking God, it’s running away. Seeking a religion that doesn’t offend us, or one that “fits” neatly either with our personal lifestyles or with the prevailing ways of the world isn’t seeking God either, but more a search for justification of some sort.

If we truly desire to seek God, then we need to be serious about it, and willing to commit to the true path, even if we find that path to be uncomfortable or even offensive.

The True Path

In the book of Genesis, God gave to Adam and Eve to eat of the fruit of all of the trees in the Garden of Eden—except one. From the multitudes of trees they were permitted to eat from, they could have sustenance; but by eating the fruit of just one tree they faced expulsion from the garden.

In an almost mirror image, God now allows us many choices as to what to believe, but salvation comes from only one of those choices. If we truly desire to know God, our job is to earnestly seek him, even if that journey takes us to a place we never imagined going.

One of the “choices” God has given us is recorded to have said the following:

“I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”–John 14:6

Most people make assumptions about Jesus Christ without fully investigating the available facts, as though the question of his messiah-ship is just another issue to be debated on daytime talk shows.

But if we believe that there is an all powerful God, then there have to be parameters, rules he (not us) sets for us to seek him. Our faith job is to purposefully seek to know if that apparently absurd claim by a man named Jesus is true. In fact a statement so sweeping demands that we investigate it fully, to decide for ourselves if there’s any validity to it.

The Old Testament promised a messiah, a deliverer, would be sent from God to the people. Was Jesus–the man quoted in John 14;6–that messiah?

The answer to that question is a test for our eternal destinies, and it isn’t multiple choice.

COMING UP NEXT: “I DON’T HAVE A SPECIFIC FAITH–I’M SPIRITUAL”

PART 1 of “OUR ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT GOD”

November 26, 2009

By Kevin M

Thanksgiving Day is a very appropriate day to launch the first post of the OutOfYourRut.com Faith Forum. It’s a day set aside in which we are to be thankful. But a relevant question today—in this largely secular era—is, to whom are we thankful? In the historical context, we all know what the answer to that question is, but what does it mean for us today?

Many argue that faith is personal, that it’s different for all people, and that we must respect people of all faiths, and even those of no faith at all. I agree on all counts. But in this forum, I will put forth my own set of personal beliefs—and those of anyone willing to add to the discussion—under the presumption that if you’re here reading this, you have at least some interest in matters of eternity.

As for my personal beliefs: I am a follower of Jesus Christ, also known as a Christian. Where possible, I will work within an understanding of Jesus Christ from a Biblical standpoint. I am not a minister or priest, not a Bible scholar and not a theologian. But I am attempting to use this forum to be what every follower of Jesus is called to be: a member of the priesthood of believers (1 Peter 2: 4-10).

If you have only a vague idea of what Christianity is about, or had training in it as child but drifted away, or might be curious, please entertain my discussion on the subject. The Christian faith is for anyone and everyone, but especially for those in a difficult place in life. The very mission of Jesus Christ was to reach out to the lost, to the hurting and to sinners. Each of us falls into every one of those categories at one time or another.

My direction—in this series at least—is to approach the discussion of Jesus from the outside in, that is, to analyze the many objections of him and of his teachings which prevent so many from accepting him for what he claimed to be: our messiah.

In this post we’ll begin with one issue which I think is foundational—ideas and comments that begin with the words: But I think God is…

Before we get into that analysis, let’s first spend some time pondering an issue that provides the entire reason such a discussion is even necessary…the rejection of Jesus Christ.

Why is Jesus Christ so “offensive” to so many people?

I can come up with two answers to this question; the first involves the judgment and hypocrisy that often comes from us Christians; we’re most assuredly guilty of this charge, but we’ll tackle that topic in a future post in this series. As to the second…

Do you believe that anyone has the ability to fortell the future? Some people believe in the prophecies of Nostrodamus, the 16th century French chemist who wrote of all sorts of predictions through his quatrains which many believe have come to pass. But here’s another prophecy from an even better known “prophet”, that has unequivocally come to pass:

” If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first…If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also” (John 15:18,20).

Those words were spoken by Jesus Christ nearly 2000 years ago, and they’re as true today as they were then. But why? Why did they hate Jesus then, and why is he still hated today? And since he departed the physical confines of the world nearly 2000 years ago, why does anyone care enough to be offended? Jesus didn’t come to rearange social orders, to topple governments or to change national boundaries. So what was it about him that so many found and still find so displeasing?

Here’s my theory… take a definate position on anything, and one thing is guaranteed: many people will hate you. Jesus was very definate, he spoke with the authority of someone who knows. But in our humaness, we don’t like definate, we prefer the wiggle room that uncertainty provides. People who are definate about things—especially in matters we can loosely call virtue—tend to make us nervous. Though we’re loathe to admit it, at the depths of our souls we’re only too aware of our shortcomings as human beings, of our guilt in the face of truth, and the more powerful the truth that one utters, the more repulsed we are at hearing it.

Does the fact that a teaching offends us make that teaching invalid? That’s what this series will attempt to analyze.

A more modern reason to reject Jesus

In today’s world, there may be an even more basic reason so many dismiss Jesus as irrelevant: fewer people believe in a “god” of any sort.

Previous generations lived a mere heartbeat away from death, and they knew it. It wasn’t at all uncommon for people who grew up before World War II to have experienced the death of an immediate family member, often a childhood sibling. It was hard not to cling to faith as the last, best hope.

But we’re largely insulated from that view of death—if not from death itself—by today’s complex global systems, public safety nets, medical advances, technological breakthroughs and the ever-present and increasingly convincing entertainment media, all of which combine to deliver to us a compelling message that we’re masters of our own destiny. This has become the ultimate “religion” of the 21st century. We don’t like to dwell on death, and like to think that one day death itself will be destroyed by our completely irrepressible, always advancing technology. As an extreme example, some people even choose to freeze their bodies at death, placing their hope in the fact that blessed technology will find a way to resurrect them to new life.

Jesus promised that if we believe in him, we would have eternal life. Eternal life with who? With God. He promised to bring us to glory. What glory? The glory of God. He promised that we’d be delivered from eternal wrath? What wrath? The wrath of God.

But if there is no God, there is no wrath, so why do we even need savior? A savior from what? The question of belief in Jesus Christ then, is even more basic than any objections to his claims and teachings.

Now, back to But I think God is…

OK, this has been an admittedly long wind-up to the main topic in the title of this post, but given the depth of the subject matter, the table first needs to be set and since this is the first post in the series, the intro had to be a long one. I promise to make my main points more quickly in future posts.

I contend that one of the core objections to Jesus Christ is either an absence of belief in a sovereign God, or a lack of understanding of the nature of God. That lack of both belief and understanding is in evidence in the way we speak of God. If we preface our discussions of God with “but I think God is…” what we’re really doing is opening the possibility of creating a God of our own choosing—making God in Man’s image. As a matter of pure logic, that thinking can’t be right.

This assertion starts with a mistaken premise: that the God of the Universe is (or must be) limited to what we think he is or should be. We’re making up our own God from, presumably, a long list of buffet table-like multiple choice items. Is that who God has to be, someone who fits our idea of who he is?

Assuming that were even possible, would a God constructed by any human being be remotely capable of being the God of the Universe? To think as much is a contradiction in terms.

So let’s flip the direction a bit. Rather than beginning a discussion of God with “but I think God is…”, let’s instead start by listing some things God isn’t, based on little more than logic:

God isn’t constrained by the limits of our understanding

God isn’t constrained by our ideas of right or wrong

God isn’t some sort of cosmic genie waiting to do our bidding in order to prove his existence or worth to humanity

God isn’t constrained by our understanding of science

God isn’t beholden to our individual opinions of who he is

God isn’t beholden to the court of public opinion or even to the court of human law

Some would like to believe in God, but want a god who will “behave” (according to the values of good and evil we hold important). As well intended as that may sound on the surface, it means only accepting a limited god. This is not at all unlike paganism, which established many gods, all of whom had certain powers and certain weaknesses. But those are not gods at all; they’re more akin to super humans. In our own day superhumans take the form of fictional characters present throughout popular culture today. We love power, but only when we think we can control it.

A true God is one who is beyond our imaginations and unconstrained by our personal preferences. In a world where we’re told—and even directed—to be masters of our own destinies, that’s a hard pill to swallow. A true God would have absolute power over us. That’s a frightening proposition isn’t it, maybe even more than we can stand.

But our fear doesn’t mean God doesn’t exist. Either he does or he doesn’t, but if he does, then yes, he has absolute power over us. Our choice then is either to believe or to reject the idea of an all powerful God, not to construct one of our preferences.

Only when we begin to grasp that concept do we begin to develop an understanding of who Jesus Christ is and why we need him. He is our path to that God who has absolute power over us.

If we’re serious about the searching for or knowing God—and we should be—we need to begin by asking the right questions and, more important, not running away from any answers we get.

What are your thoughts on this subject? Must God be who we think he is?

COMING UP NEXT: “MANY PATHS TO THE SAME GOD”