Laboring in Vain?

“Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15:58

Such is Paul’s climactic application for 1 Corinthians 15. He has just argued for the reality and centrality of bodily resurrection for the Christian, how we will one day receive a new, glorious body and live forever in perfect fellowship with God and others. Therefore, because of that great reward which awaits us, we are to stand firm in our faith. Okay, I can see that. An eternity of bliss is worth a few years of enduring hardships. That makes sense well enough. But then Paul adds one more sentence in which he states that our “labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

This is another case where it seems that doctrine and experience are at odds (at least for me). Let me illustrate. I always seem to get the tough nuts to crack, so to speak. The non-Christians in my circle of friends historically have not been all that interested in adopting Christianity as their religion of choice. By and large, they enjoy discussing religion and spiritual things, they have no qualms listening to my point of view, and I get the impression that they might even respect me for believing as I do and living out that belief system. But they have no interest whatsoever in becoming a follower of Christ. The usual culprit is their intellect. They are held prisoner by the idea that things just aren’t that simple as the gospel message would claim. The Bible wasn’t written to be taken so literally. What can we really know about this Jesus guy, anyway? There are so many different religions out there, how can there be just one that’s correct? And the list goes on. Although I know arguments to counter each of these questions, I have also learned that often they don’t do much good. This is what I have come across as I do the work of evangelism: Lots of prayer, lots of good discussions, lots of good friendships for which I am thankful, even, but ultimately no decisions for Christ.

It’s hard to look at this situation repeat itself over and over again in my life and believe that the work is not in vain. What am I accomplishing? What good have I done? How am I screwing up? Perhaps I am being too pessimistic. Perhaps one day I will find out that I did more than I thought. But I won’t know until that day.

I suppose in the end, I have to accept the fact that I did what was asked of me—I have tried, in the power of the Spirit, to be faithful. The results are not up to me. But when one labors long and hard with nothing tangible to show for it, the word failure does crop up in one’s mind.

Am I a faithful failure?

Karma: Garbage In, Garbage Out

Karma is ubiquitous in today's American culture. I hear this term bantered about on the radio, on TV and in conversations. For some reason that, quite honestly, escapes me, people actually believe in karma. I wish to show two reasons why the idea of karma is not viable.

Karma is the idea that moral actions are rewarded or punished through an impersonal system, whether it be some kind of law, or the universe itself, etc.* Let us note first of all that, in order to believe in good and bad actions as the inputs to the karmic system, one must hold to some standard of Good. After all, how can good behavior be rewarded--and more importantly, bad behavior be punished--if there is no standard on which to judge? Karma without the idea of the Good is like a capricious master, deciding your fate on a whim. This is hardly a fair scenario, and if karma isn't about fairness, then what is it about? But this idea of the Good must also be a universal standard, if the universe or a universal law is responsible for punishment and reward. Now, every good postmodernist knows that the first rule of postmodernism is "there are no moral absolutes." So the relativist who believes in karma (and I have yet to meet, see or hear a karma-espouser who is not a moral relativist) is faced with a contradiction--there both is and is not a universal standard of Good.

Now I myself do believe in a universal standard of Good. Should I therefore admit that karma is at least possible, given my worldview? Not quite. Karma runs into another issue when one recalls that it is believed to be an impersonal system: Put a good action into the system, get rewarded; put a bad action into the system, get punished. Here's the rub: How does an impersonal system differentiate between good and bad? Good and bad are moral categories, and only persons have an understanding of moral actions. If, for example, I were to use my computer to hack into Wal-Mart's customer database and steal all of their information, my computer would not stand in my way. It would not send me an email letting me know it disapproved of my actions because they were morally wrong. But were my wife to walk in while I was breaking into the database, she would immediately let me know that what I was doing was wrong. For her, the distinction would be immediate and obvious. For my computer, no distinction would ever be forthcoming. Karma is an impersonal agent, just like a computer. Therefore, karma is not able to know the difference between good and bad.

To reiterate, karma presupposes an absolute standard of Good, which contradicts postmodern moral theory, and it posits the existence of an impersonal agent that can differentiate between good and bad, which is another contradiction, since only persons understand this distinction. This leaves the believer in karma with an untenable assertion on two counts.

In other words, in postmodern America, karma simply cannot be.

*Let us put aside the fact that American karma is a bastardized version of the actual Hindu/Buddhist doctrine. I am only discussing the American version here.

Something Seems Fishy Here

I received an interesting link from my father-in-law this morning, which I think is very much worth sharing.

Like I said, interesting. Then I stumbled across the transcript of President Obama's weekly address, given today (emphases added). Here are some excerpts:

So, let me explain what reform will mean for you. And let me start by dispelling the outlandish rumors that reform will promote euthanasia, cut Medicaid, or bring about a government takeover of health care. That’s simply not true. This isn’t about putting government in charge of your health insurance; it’s about putting you in charge of your health insurance.

We will require insurance companies to cover routine checkups and preventive care...

We will stop insurance companies from denying coverage because of a person’s medical history...insurance companies will no longer be allowed to drop or water down coverage for someone who has become seriously ill. Your health insurance ought to be there for you when it counts – and reform will make sure it is.

Insurance companies will also have to limit how much you can be charged for out-of-pocket expenses. And we will stop insurance companies from placing arbitrary caps on the amount of coverage you can receive in a given year or a lifetime...

Maybe I should email flag@whitehouse.gov--Obama's words seem awfully fishy to me.

Begging the Question

I typically let most grammar and usage mistakes slide. Mind you, when I find one in print or hear one spoken, it still makes me cringe. I have learned, though, just to let it go, except when I think that pointing it out would be beneficial to all parties involved (for instance, when I am grammarian at a Toastmasters meeting). I come across a few mistakes, however, over and over again, and sometimes I must comment.

The particular oft-misused phrase stuck in my craw at the moment is begging the question. Countless times have I heard or read something like, “The Rockies have been on a tear since firing manager Clint Hurdle. That begs the question, why was Hurdle not fired sooner?” The fact of the matter is Hurdle’s firing does not beg the question of timing. It raises the question.

Begging the question (a.k.a. petitio principii) is a logical fallacy in which a statement or claim is assumed to be true without evidence other than the statement or claim itself. Note that in the phrase begging the question, beg does not mean “plead for” but rather “assume” and question does not mean “a sentence in interrogative form” but rather “the thing one is trying to prove.” Thus, begging the question literally means “assuming the thing one is trying to prove.”

For example, the famous zinger, “When did you stop beating your wife?” begs the question. It assumes that you have been beating your wife, even though no evidence has been produced that you do in fact beat her. Another example is, “OJ could not have killed his wife, because he just wouldn’t do that sort of thing.” It assumes that OJ could not have killed his wife because he would not kill his wife. No evidence is produced to suggest why he would not perform such an act other than “he just wouldn’t.”*

Perhaps I am being way too anal about this, but I believe that clear and cogent thinking is extremely important, and an important part of solid thinking is having a solid understanding of the words and phrases used. Furthermore, not only is the phrase begging the question often misused, the real fallacy of question-begging is common, as well. Thus knowing the true meaning protects you from misusing your words and your logic.

So the next time you read, “The economic crisis begs the question, when will things turn around?” join me in cringing in your chair. Let out a good, hearty scream while you are at it. And then relax by chanting this mantra: It doesn't beg the question; it raises the question...It doesn't beg the question; it raises the question...It doesn't beg the question; it raises the question...It'll make you feel better. I promise.

*Apologies for the misogynistic examples; ladies, please do not take offense!

A Challenging Legacy

I never realized what kind of a man he was until it was too late.

I last saw my grandfather a week ago Sunday. It was my birthday, and Jessica, Brodie and I had traveled back to my hometown in Kansas for a long weekend. All of the family was supposed to come over to my parents' house at 5 PM Saturday to see us and celebrate. A little before 5, Grandma called and said that Grandpa was running a fever. It was decided that they would not come, since there was a baby at the house. A little after 5, Grandma called back and said that Grandpa had fallen. My dad, aunt and cousin left the party to go to my grandparents' house to help out. My cousin, an RN, decided once they were there that Grandpa needed to go to the hospital. That is where he was the next day when I saw him.

I walked into the room, and Dad introduced me to him. Grandpa, whose mind was failing him, said, "I remember Jon, but that's not what he looks like." (I can't blame him for that; I have changed my looks quite a bit over the years.) After we assured Grandpa that I was his grandson Jon, he turned and looked at me and asked, "Are you a Christian?"

This is when I realized what kind of man my Grandpa was. Here he lay dying in a hospital bed. His body was failing him; his mind already had. He wasn't even really clear about who I was. Yet he wanted to make sure that I believed in Christ. His faith somehow, miraculously, was still strong.

I assured him that I was a Christian and introduced him to his newest great-grandson, Brodie. In the course of our short conversation, he repeatedly told me to raise Brodie up to honor his father and mother and as a Christian. Again, I witnessed a man at the end of his days--so weak he couldn't stand--and his primary concern was to make sure that my family and me (who were, for all he knew, strangers) loved Jesus.

He soon fell asleep and I left the room. That was the last time he was lucid, and although he lived for a few more days, that was when I said goodbye to Grandpa. That was also the moment that his legacy was crystalized in my mind. He was a man of faith.

My dad told me about the last thing Grandpa said. He had spotted a new doctor, one he hadn't seen before, and in a garbled mumble, said to him, "Do you believe in Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior?"

A man of faith to the very end.

TV or Not TV, That is the Question

I get it. I've read Neil Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death. I've sat in many lectures and read many blog articles by Dr. Douglas Groothuis. I understand the reasons not to watch television. Glorified violence. Gratuitous sex. Triviality and banality. And I completely agree that many, if not most, shows on television are a complete waste of time and perhaps even sinful to watch, which is precisely why my wife and I do not watch those shows.

But what about that minority of shows that don't focus on these things? For example, I like to watch cooking shows. Why? Because I like to cook, and I learn new things by watching the professionals in action. My wife and I also like to watch documentaries like Nova or Secrets of the Dead. (Recently, e.g., we just finished watching the BBC documentary The Human Face on Netflix.) Again, these are shows in which you can learn something about science or the humanities and actually feel edified after having watched them. And, of course, I do like to do battle with the contestants on Jeopardy every now and again.

Now this isn't to say that I always watch high-quality shows like these. I do confess that sometimes, after an especially long day at work, I do crash in front of the tube and watch fairly trivial shows. But usually when this happens I am so mentally drained that I would be hard-pressed to pick up a book or have an enlightening conversation anyway. I have had to come to grips with the fact that I just can't be productive all the time.

So I pose the question, is some TV okay, if those shows are actually edifying in some way? Or is TV such a wasteland that one should avoid it at all costs?

Paul's Letter to the Roman-Americans

I just finished preaching a month-long sermon series on Romans at my church. I have to say, I was really struck by Paul's thoughts on what the gospel is and the impact is has on Christians. Romans is, in essence, Paul's grand treatise on the gospel--his sales pitch to the Roman church, as it were, whose support he was trying to obtain for a trip he had planned to spread the gospel to Spain. As one goes through the book, one sees the contrast between Paul's gospel and the gospel too many of us in the church today (including myself, far too often) live out:

Paul: Humans, left to their own devices, are under for God's wrath. (ch. 1-3)
Us: Humans aren't that bad; most people are good at heart.

Paul: Humans who try to find righteousness by adhering to a set of rules (the Jews, in Paul's case) are under God's wrath. (ch 1-3)

Us: Yes, Jesus died for our sins, but we've still got plenty of unwritten rules, don't you worry!

Paul: Salvation can only be found in Christ. (ch 3)

Us: Salvation can only be found in politics.

Paul: Should we go on sinning so that grace may increase? No way! (ch 6)

Us: A little sinning here and there isn't really a sin at all, as long as it doesn't violate one of our unwritten rules (see above).

Paul: The fact that people without Christ are under God's wrath should compel us to spread the gospel! (ch 9-11)

Us: The fact that people without Christ are under God's wrath should compel someone else to spread the gospel!

Paul: The gospel should cause a transformation in every area of our lives: Our church life, our citizenship to the state, our interactions with family, friends and strangers, etc. (ch 12-15)

Us: What I do outside of church is my own business.

Paul: We should put aside our freedoms in nonmoral areas for the sake of unity and peace. (ch 14-15)

Us: I'm an American; I have rights and I will use them!

I wonder what Paul would tell us today. How would Romans be different if we were his original audience? Would he have to change his message? Or would it be much the same, stressing the same things, since the Romans were humans just like us, too, struggling with the same issues day in and day out? I think the latter might be more likely. Preaching through the book, one finds Paul's letter to be extremely relevant today. In it we see our sinful nature. We see our redemption in Christ alone. We see the model of Christianity to which we strive to adhere.

I wonder if Paul knew how timeless his letter was when he wrote it...