(The Shack, page 185)
"Just because I (God) work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors."
(The Shack, page 165)
"(God) has never needed evil to accomplish his good purposes. It is you humans who have embraced evil and (God) has responded with goodness."
It seems to me that most Christian theology/religion is based on the understanding that God required a sacrifice in order to forgive us (aka. Jesus). If God is only good - why would He require a murder in order to be able to give us forgiveness? If God does not need evil to accomplish his will - then why would He need Jesus to be murdered?
If God needed a murder, that would lead me to conclude that God needed payment or revenge for our lack of trust in him. That would make God more like me, a human... and less like God - the all forgiving, all full of grace, all full of love, God. It could be argued that His holiness required the murder - but how does that make Him any different from any other god? There are tons of holy gods out there - but a God that finds holiness in love... that would be something different.
It could be argued that God needed Jesus to live and that, in order to be fully human, Jesus had to die. He died because he was human. His life and resurrection is God in him. Could people follow Jesus not because of his gruesome death, but because He lived and lives? Is it possible that Christians have over glamorized the death of Jesus and underestimated the power of his life?
What if the sacrifice wasn't the death, or murder, but in Jesus coming and living as a human? What if Christians stopped saying "I am a Christian b/c Jesus died for my sins," and instead said "I follow Jesus because he loves me... and He shows it to me over and over again." Are we sin-obsessed in that we find our identity in our sin and not in our freedom and healing?
What do you think?
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Refugee Adoption
I am reading a book called How Does It Feel To Be A Problem? by Moustafa Bayoumi. It is a collection of stories from American Arabs post 9/11. I find the stories of immigrants to be fascinating and significant. I know so few personally, so I am dependent on books such as this and Interpreter of Maladies to share them.
I think what I find so compelling is their perspectives - they see America and the world in such a different way. I find it refreshing. It is so easy for me to get lost or stuck in my own world - in my own interpretations and opinions.
So far the story of Rasha is my favorite. A young, independent Muslim that found a balance between her faith and the new culture. It was difficult and she faced a lot of obstacles - but she was determined and never lost heart. She became the president of her high school - wearing her headcovering and all in a secular public school in Brooklyn. Her eventual success wasn't able to make her conform. She stood firmly in who she was - an Arab Muslim - and crossed cultural divides and common misunderstandings with her courage.
Her story is powerful and inspiring. The other stories are as well. Another story is about a woman whose entire family was abruptly arrested after 9/11 b/c of suspicious neighbors. They spent three months in "detention" with no clear idea of what their charges were until finally released. Another story is about an American solider - called upon to flight in Iraq and the internal conflict he faced being Arab and fighting Arabs. And there are even more stories... but I can't write about them all.
It seems they all struggle intensely to discover who they are in a culture that assumes the worst and encourages fear. At the very least, it reminds me that we are humans - capable of inflicting pain on one another. We don't get to choose what country we're born in, the color of our skin, what language our family speaks, or what our culture will value. I could have been born as anyone... but here I am. American, Caucasian, and wealthier than most of the world. Like the people who shared their stories in the book, I must embrace who I am and make the most of it. And I hope to help others do the same - whatever ethnicity, culture and beliefs.
And so, of course, this leads me to think again of adoption. It is one possible way that we can contribute to the world. We recently heard of this program through the United Nations that finds families to host refugees, ages 10 to 18, in order to help them get educated. The main commitment of the family is to help the child get to college. To help break the cycle of poverty and war their home country now faces. I love this idea and like to think about how it might work out.
Berkeley could be a great place for this. It's diverse enough that an international youth would hopefully have the freedom to find out who they are without feeling pressured to conform one way It is home to the best public college in the nation. The child isn't a baby so we could keep working while they're at school. We could finish out the ground floor so they'd have a bedroom. We could show them what we know to be American and see what they think.
It's a great idea.
I think what I find so compelling is their perspectives - they see America and the world in such a different way. I find it refreshing. It is so easy for me to get lost or stuck in my own world - in my own interpretations and opinions.
So far the story of Rasha is my favorite. A young, independent Muslim that found a balance between her faith and the new culture. It was difficult and she faced a lot of obstacles - but she was determined and never lost heart. She became the president of her high school - wearing her headcovering and all in a secular public school in Brooklyn. Her eventual success wasn't able to make her conform. She stood firmly in who she was - an Arab Muslim - and crossed cultural divides and common misunderstandings with her courage.
Her story is powerful and inspiring. The other stories are as well. Another story is about a woman whose entire family was abruptly arrested after 9/11 b/c of suspicious neighbors. They spent three months in "detention" with no clear idea of what their charges were until finally released. Another story is about an American solider - called upon to flight in Iraq and the internal conflict he faced being Arab and fighting Arabs. And there are even more stories... but I can't write about them all.
It seems they all struggle intensely to discover who they are in a culture that assumes the worst and encourages fear. At the very least, it reminds me that we are humans - capable of inflicting pain on one another. We don't get to choose what country we're born in, the color of our skin, what language our family speaks, or what our culture will value. I could have been born as anyone... but here I am. American, Caucasian, and wealthier than most of the world. Like the people who shared their stories in the book, I must embrace who I am and make the most of it. And I hope to help others do the same - whatever ethnicity, culture and beliefs.
And so, of course, this leads me to think again of adoption. It is one possible way that we can contribute to the world. We recently heard of this program through the United Nations that finds families to host refugees, ages 10 to 18, in order to help them get educated. The main commitment of the family is to help the child get to college. To help break the cycle of poverty and war their home country now faces. I love this idea and like to think about how it might work out.
Berkeley could be a great place for this. It's diverse enough that an international youth would hopefully have the freedom to find out who they are without feeling pressured to conform one way It is home to the best public college in the nation. The child isn't a baby so we could keep working while they're at school. We could finish out the ground floor so they'd have a bedroom. We could show them what we know to be American and see what they think.
It's a great idea.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The hope that we have.
"I still struggle with a spiritual belief system that pitches an afterlife as its brightest reward, its light at the end of the tunnel -whether it's Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, whatever. Especially when that afterlife is entirely impossible to prove; it must be accepted on faith. Yet they talk as it if were a fact, and not just for themselves but for the people who don't even share their faith! And facts can be based on a lot of things, but faith isn't one of them."
"So, if heaven, an afterlife, an all-powerful God, and biblical truth aren't happening for you, what is" I asked Casper.
"Personal truth, Jim. And people realizing that their beliefs are just that: beliefs And that their faith is just that: faith. It's not factual, not visible, not tangible; it's just something they have chosen."
"So if you wanted Christians to hear one thing, what would you tell us?"
"I guess I'd just like Christians and church leaders to be more honest. Not just with me, but with everyone in their churches. Stop treating faith as a fact. Call it a hope. Call it confidence, not certainty. I guess I'd like some straight-shooting; 'Hi, Life is challenging. But we've found that being followers of Jesus has helped us. Maybe it could help you too.' That'd be refreshing. And I'd be interested in hearing more and asking questions. In short, I'd be interested in having a conversation."
(Jim and Casper Go To Church, pg. 145)
"So, if heaven, an afterlife, an all-powerful God, and biblical truth aren't happening for you, what is" I asked Casper.
"Personal truth, Jim. And people realizing that their beliefs are just that: beliefs And that their faith is just that: faith. It's not factual, not visible, not tangible; it's just something they have chosen."
"So if you wanted Christians to hear one thing, what would you tell us?"
"I guess I'd just like Christians and church leaders to be more honest. Not just with me, but with everyone in their churches. Stop treating faith as a fact. Call it a hope. Call it confidence, not certainty. I guess I'd like some straight-shooting; 'Hi, Life is challenging. But we've found that being followers of Jesus has helped us. Maybe it could help you too.' That'd be refreshing. And I'd be interested in hearing more and asking questions. In short, I'd be interested in having a conversation."
(Jim and Casper Go To Church, pg. 145)
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
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