Having said that, their questions remind us of what it was like to not have thought further about a question.  Take a question like ‘Who made God?’  This is one of the questions dealt with in the new . . . → Read More: child questions]]> I’m looking forward to the profundity of the questions Thomas will ask as he and his mind develop and grow.  Children often surprise us.

Having said that, their questions remind us of what it was like to not have thought further about a question.  Take a question like ‘Who made God?’  This is one of the questions dealt with in the new book, ‘Who Made God? And Other Tricky Questions‘, by missiologist, linguist, and former Carey Baptist principal Brian Smith.

Because kids¹ need to be shown how to identify what is assumed in a question (and an answer to it), any semantic issues involved, and learn to (if necessary) reformulate or rephrase it, think past initial, incomplete answers and get to subsequent less incomplete answers.

1. and some popular atheists – I cannot resist the urge to add…

One of those cursed Philistine arrows found its way into my side, and as I felt the searing heat, I knew that not only this battle was over, but also the life of this king was over. I would not give them have the satisfaction of finishing me off! They would find me having already . . . → Read More: narrative sermon]]> ((SAUL, FALLEN ON HIS SWORD))

One of those cursed Philistine arrows found its way into my side, and as I felt the searing heat, I knew that not only this battle was over, but also the life of this king was over. I would not give them have the satisfaction of finishing me off! They would find me having already fallen on my own sword.

It would only be a matter of seconds before my enemies would reach me, but how eternal those seconds would seem! More than long enough to remember my life. Long enough to regret the wasted years. Someone might one day sing about how I felt in that moment: “just a puppet on a lonely string – oh, who would ever want to be King!?” How different this sadness now feels from the confidence I once felt!

After all, I was, of course, the obvious choice to be Israel’s first anointed king. Samuel sons were unsuitable, and I was handsome and a head taller than anyone else in Israel. And we needed a strong leader like me to defeat those dirty Philistines that were becoming such a problem. All the people wanted it to happen. A strong kingdom needed a strong King! And if the other nations had strong Kings, then we needed one all the more.

What a divine appointment that happened as I was looking for my father’s donkeys! We met Samuel and he anointed me. But how quickly things went downward! I’m not sure he ever fully supported me. As I was publicly announced as King at Gilgal, Samuel quite clearly thought that Israel was wicked in asking for a king, because the Lord was already our King. Not exactly a glorious induction service for me.

First was the fiasco over me not waiting the full 7 days for Samuel to meet me before going to war. The people were freaking out, and scattering, and we needed to make a move. What’s more I was totally capable of offering the sacrifices. Goodness was he upset when he got there. That was the first time he said my kingdom wouldn’t last.

He was even more upset after we took back Ahag, the king of the Amalekites, and some of the best livestock – which we were going to sacrifice anyway! Nope, everything meant everything, for Samuel. Every last memory of these womb-desecraters, child-killers must be wiped from existence. Even when I realised my mistake, and asked Samuel to forgive me, he still was firm: I was being rejected as King.

And then there was that shepherd boy David. I only grew to despise him more and more as I knew him. After he killed Goliath, wearing MY armour!!!, people started to like him more. “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten-thousands”, they sang… to my ever-growing fury.

I remember being surprised at myself for hurling that spear at him – his music had been so soothing for my evil moods – now it seemed to just provoke me. He was so good at everything and people began just waiting for me to disappear so he could be King.

Lying here with my own sword through me, it all seems such a waste… such an utter, embarrassing failure. Look now! Here is my end! This uncircumcised Philistine approaches to finish me off… I cannot move, let alone scream, but he recognises who I am, and pauses briefly to look at me with disgust. In the split second before his sword strikes, I lament not grasping sooner the truth that was certainly also hidden from the mind of my killer. Perhaps Samuel was right. How foolish indeed it was
to ever think that anyone but God could ever truly be King!

((SAUL, NOW CALLED PAUL, ABOUT TO BE BEHEADED))

The wood against my neck was hard and indifferent. It would all be over now, in a matter of seconds, and I would finally depart and be with the Lord… Death was the penalty for all who pledged allegiance to any King other than the Emperor – in this case, Nero – whom everyone knew was growing more insane by the minute.

But unlike the other apostles and co-workers, there would be no cross for this Roman citizen. I would have a noble and ‘clean’ death; but it was still death, nonetheless. As the executioner stepped forward with sword in hand, these mere few seconds seemed an eternity – more than sufficient to remember the road that led me here.

I was a Hebrew of Hebrews, of the tribe of Benjamin, zealous for God and his Law – and named after Saul, the first king of Israel. So zealous, that I passionately persecuted this new, radical sect which was so blatantly blasphemous, and opposed to the Law of Moses and all that was holy. This Nazarene they hailed as Messiah (even calling him Lord!) was most evidently not the anointed King we all were waiting for. For starters, the Romans were still here, and as well, Messiah’s, by definition, don’t die on crosses. This crucified criminal was hardly fit for David’s throne.

I was headed to Damascus to round up more of these followers of the Way, when it happened. Jesus himself appeared to me in a bright vision, and turned my whole world upside down – including my sight for a few days. He was indeed still alive. The stories were really true and not just fabrications. What’s more, we had been expecting the wrong kind of anointed King – the wrong kind of Messiah.

As I regained sight and strength, more and more became clear to me. Not only was Jesus the fulfilment of all of our false and failed human Kings from ages past, right down to Saul, but He was also the True King of the whole world, which was the office claimed by Caesar.

That kind of talk would get you killed. And it had got Jesus killed. When Pilate had asked if Jesus was the King of the Jews, they were so intent on having him killed that they even shouted out “We have no King but Caesar!” Not words that should be found on the lips of a Jew! Instead, “We have no King but God!” should have been heard.

It had got Jesus killed, and now it was my turn. As the sword of my executioner was lifted, ready to be wielded swiftly and decisively, I felt unusually calm and content. I now knew, and had lived the last thirty years testifying to the fact that Jesus was the only true King. No Jewish king had every brought freedom. No Roman king ever achieved peace for the world. Nor could they have. For we have no other King, and will give our allegiance to no other King but the true King – Jesus!!

I just picked up an other-than-standard-size light bulb for new place.  It reminded me of working for a lumber/hardware store in which I had to order, merchandise, and sell (among various other things) lighting supplies. It’s all bulbs and fixtures when it comes to lighting, really.

But then there’s another way to do lighting.  Focus, redirect, or otherwise use natural light . . . → Read More: lit up]]> theological musing:

I just picked up an other-than-standard-size light bulb for new place.  It reminded me of working for a lumber/hardware store in which I had to order, merchandise, and sell (among various other things) lighting supplies. It’s all bulbs and fixtures when it comes to lighting, really.

But then there’s another way to do lighting.  Focus, redirect, or otherwise use natural light (i.e. sky-lights).

This (I don’t remember how exactly) got me thinking about different ways of thinking about Christian Spirituality.

In once sense, you could conceive electric lighting as humanly engineered (i.e. trying to live the Christian life in your own strength), and natural lighting as divinely sourced (i.e. 100% of the Spirit living the life of Jesus in/through me, and 0% of me).

I wonder if another sense might take more account of the entire New Testament?  Maybe a ‘both/and’ understanding?  After all, whilst humans may take wood, metal, sand/glass and create fixtures and bulbs, they didn’t create any of them, nor did they call electricity into being.

The NT picture includes images of ‘partnering’ or ‘co-labouring’ with God, ‘striving and labouring’ but not with one’s own strength (as if we could create the charge), but ‘according to the energy that He energises in me with power (Colossians 1:29)’.

(Few translations do this verse well.  “…κατὰ τὴν ἐνέργειαν αὐτοῦ τὴν ἐνεργουμένην ἐν ἐμοὶ ἐν δυνάμει.”  Transliteration w/ literal notes: “…kata [according to] ton energeian [the 'energy'] autou ton energoumenon [?? the energising??] en emoi [in me] en dunamei [in/with 'dynamite'/power].”  Dale’s translation [as if he knows what the heck he's doing]: “…according to the energy which He energises in me with power.”  Or – shifting the syntax around for ease of Englishness – “…according to the energy which is powerfully energised in me.”)

Perhaps the difference would be between a lovely yet non-light-giving light bulb or fixture which has no connection to the power source, and a functioning one that does.  The analogy can have quite a few extensions tacked on to it as well, but I’ll refrain

But according to TVNZ, “maths teacher Philip Lloyd, an Auckland man who has made a maths-changing discovery to do with parabolas.” (though the date of the above forum post is 2003, and the name is TJ Evert!!??  hmmm…)

Anyway, the discovery is cool – whether . . . → Read More: phantom parabolas]]> Saw this morning on TV1 Breakfast – not much (anything? maybe this??) about it on the net yet…

But according to TVNZ, “maths teacher Philip Lloyd, an Auckland man who has made a maths-changing discovery to do with parabolas.” (though the date of the above forum post is 2003, and the name is TJ Evert!!??  hmmm…)

Anyway, the discovery is cool – whether by TJ Evert in 2003 or by Philipo Lloyd more recently.  Apparently (if I’m wording this right – it’s been a while since algebra class!) equations with an ‘imaginary’ solutions for ‘x’ ¹ do not intersect the x axis.

The news is that a ‘phantom parabola’ can be plotted, which does intersect an imaginary x-’plane’ (we always had to imagine the x & y axis’ did we not?).

The ‘ooh that’s a cool parallel with spirituality’ thought that I initially had may well be not much more than a play on the word ‘imaginary’, but hey…  Like the Flatland analogy (used by C.S. Lewis [unknowingly? i cannot remember] and Rob Bell), this would be another case of adding another dimension.  After all, we imagine real things all the time, don’t we?

So there it is.  I’ve sent TVNZ an email with the link above.  Will see if it’s relevant

1. [Dale refuses the philosophical tangent - no pun intended]

Speaking of sheriffs, Di and I drove past ‘The Shoe Sheriff‘ in Newmarket, Auckland, today.  It’s a long-standing shoe repair place.  I used to work1 in the Newmarket area, and I still remember when the big, bad, black hole of a shopping company, two-double-seven was expanding across . . . → Read More: shoe sheriff]]> We played ‘mafia’ at youth group Saturday. I don’t think I’ve ever been the sheriff.

Speaking of sheriffs, Di and I drove past ‘The Shoe Sheriff‘ in Newmarket, Auckland, today.  It’s a long-standing shoe repair place.  I used to work¹ in the Newmarket area, and I still remember when the big, bad, black hole of a shopping company, two-double-seven was expanding across Broadway street, buying-up-and-tearing-down the old less-than-cared-for buildings that were there, and replacing them with flash, glistening new buildings².

But ‘The Shoe Sheriff’ would not be bought.

When it was happening, I went in and gave the owner a hearty kiwi “good on ya, mate”, and we talked about the stark contrast between the rapid installation of shoe stores³, and the repairing of good-enough shoes that the Sheriff does.

A stark interruption in a line of expansionist architecture, this small, tin-roofed, neon-signed, shoe repair shop is a veritable icon of all that is restorative, salvific, restorative, just, holy, pure, right, wholesome, fair trade, organic, green, seventy-ish, eco-friendly and cool about the world.

No doubt, the board/owners of two-double-seven probably feel it’s just a matter of time before they can fill in this small bastion of light with another shiny conglomeration of glass and concrete.  I say, “Long live the Shoe Sheriff!”

If you live in Auckland, and ever head past Newmarket, and have shoes that are ‘good enough’ to be repaired, do call in to the Sheriff, won’t ya?

1. and drink copious amounts of coffee
2. which will, of course, in a matter of time, be old and less-than-cared-for themselves – and such are the days of our lives
3. hint: not used shoes

Note Jesus' hand guiding Thomas' . . . → Read More: end of luke]]> I’ve the privilege of preaching the last passage in Luke (24:13-53) this Sunday night.  Wow.  What a passage!  Just for the hey of it, here’s a painting by Caravaggio called ‘The Incredulity of Thomas’, based on this and the other parallel gospel passages.  What a painting!

Note Jesus' hand guiding Thomas' own hand