Not Of This World

Why do I try so hard sometimes to convince people of what I believe? God is certainly able to defend Himself, if He is who I think He is. And, in fact, He didn't even always try to do so... In John 6 , Jesus gives a teaching that His disciples find a little hard to swallow. When some of the disciples left Him, He did not run after them or beg the rest to stay. Instead, He turned to those that remained and asked, "You do not want to leave too, do you?" (John 6: 67).  In Luke 15 , Jesus tells the famous parable of the prodigal son. When they tell this story, most people focus on how the father, who represents God, welcomes back his long-lost son with open arms. Not many people pay attention to the beginning, when the son asks his father for his inheritance early--basically saying that all he wanted from his father was his money, and that he wished his father were dead--and the father freely gives it to him and lets his son go. Although he wishes his son would stay--as

I've been taking swing dance lessons the last few years, and one thing I've learned is about the mechanics of lead-follow dances. In a dance, the lead "suggests," they guide, they build up momentum to make it natural, easy, for you to go in a certain way. But you don't have to follow their suggestions. In fact, sometimes (oftentimes even) there's miscommunications. As a spectator, you might not even be able to tell when there was a miscommunication and the follower did something unexpected. If the lead is good, even the follower might not know, because a good lead matches their follow, and meets them where they are. There's an ongoing debate in theological thinking between   predestination --the idea that God has set out your path for you already--and   free will. The predestination camp is bolstered by Bible verses like the following: “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them,  and I will raise them up at the last day."  (Joh

Have you ever heard a debate where the two sides seem to be talking past each other? Each side presents their argument, and although everyone thinks they're arguing about the same thing, something doesn't quite connect. I saw this in a set of papers we were required to read for the Analysis and Argumentation course (nicknamed A&A) in our department .  These papers were part of an ongoing conversation, and included specific replies to each others' arguments. But one of the most surprising parts of these papers is how much trouble they had finding common ground. One of the things we talked about while discussing these papers in class was that they couldn't come to a consensus because they never realized that they were working with different underlying assumptions. One of the authors assumed language worked a certain way, while the other assumed it worked another way, but neither one came right out and explained what they were assuming. It was only by reading betwe

Read Part 1  here . This past week was the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, when Martin Luther famously posted his 95 theses , a list of topics of debate that had been bothering him. He was not expecting to start a new denomination of churches, he just wanted to start a conversation about some problematic aspects of the Medieval Catholic Church. I wonder if he would have still posted them if he knew that this one act would splinter the Church and result in the loss of millions* of lives? Luther posted those theses because he saw a need for reform in the Catholic church, and he was not alone--other contemporaries of his, such as Erasmus, were also calling for reformation within the Church. Eventually even the leadership of the Catholic church recognized a need for reform, and initiated a Counter-Reformation, beginning with the Council of Trent in 1545. But it was too late. The Church had already splintered. Pandora's Box had been opened. The  documentary series  we watc