Bump

And they're off. Fall break has officially begun; hopefully you're all as overjoyed as I am.

Several things on the agenda for today. First, some housekeeping issues. Second, more invigorating comments on chapel.

I would officially like to welcome John Dawson/Darwin to the discussion. Some of you may have seen this profile pop into existence yesterday, but just in case you did not, search for "John Dawson" on Facebook and become his friend. His picture is here. He also has a group, Adapt and Change, and a blog, Originally Breathed Into A Few Forms.

I do not know yet whether I should call Darwin an enemy or a friend, but I shall momentarily allow my optimistic spirit to come to the fore and entertain him as a friend. He is wrong to say that I have not presented arguments for my positions, but correct in saying that I have a tendency to be crass. [As I have said before, the sarcasm and cynicism are infused into my comments because I do not think I would have an audience otherwise. If any of you can honestly tell me that you would be reading this right now if I were simply presenting point-by-point arguments devoid of humor or otherwise stimulating comments, then I will re-think my approach. But no promises.] It will be my hope, for the present, that some meaningful conversations can be had between Darwin, myself, and many of you, the readers.

On that note, I should apologize for a few of the things I said in yesterday's post. I was wrong to characterize all Nazarene pastors in the way that I did: not all of them drive Lexuses, wear Armani, or live in gated communities. To those pastors who do not, I apologize for my unjustified attacks. However, not all Nazarene pastors are so pastoral. I think it is despicable for pastors to live lives that are exponentially more lavish than those of their congregations, so my comments still stand for those pastors [Nazarene or otherwise] who are characterized by Lexuses, Armani, and gates.

One last housekeeping detail. For those of you who posted comments on yesterday's post, I have posted a comment of my own attempting to quell some of your concerns.

And to chapel we go.

Throw up your rawkfist, if you felt it when today's band dropped it. Oh, and Ms. Anonymous Freshman Singer has some pipes. Somebody get that girl into a studio.

His Holiness presented us with his, now familiar, thoughts on "identity" for the third time today. It's amazing to me the amount of time he has managed to fill while saying so little. "We should find our identities in Christ." Great. Now tell me why. Give me an argument. I'm beginning to think we might have to wait until Palin raises her IQ above 83 for that.

"There's this woman, here, on the banner that some of you have mistaken for a one-winged angel. That wouldn't be good for anything except . . . flying in circles." *nervous laughter*

And flown in circles you have, Holiness, with your ever-redundant thoughts on the subject of identity. But who's complaining? I'll take free publicity wherever I can get it. :)

As for the finer points of the sermon, a few things require further investigation.

We were reminded today of the story contained in I Sameul 4 and 5 about the capture of the ark of the covenant by the Philistines. According to 5:2-4, "Then they carried the ark into Dagon's temple and set it beside Dagon. When the people of Ashdod rose early the next day, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the LORD! They took Dagon and put him back in his place. But the following morning when they rose, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the LORD! His head and hands had been broken off and were lying on the threshold; only his body remained." [NIV]

The most obvious thing that needs to be said about the above passage is that one should not assume, based on this passage, that the very presence of the ark caused the statue of Dagon to fall. If you are of the opinion that the ark possessed the powers visualized in the clip from Raiders of the Lost Ark, you have more than a little rethinking to do.

Miracles, such as the one hinted at in the above text, are trangressions of the laws of Nature. Only one problem: the laws of Nature have never been, to our knowlege, transgressed. It may be, and probably is, the case that humanity is still ignorant of some or many of Nature's operating principles. For this reason it might sometimes seem as if the laws of Nature are capable of being broken. [And we do love thinking that they can be, don't we? David Blaine, Derren Brown, David Copperfield. . . .] However, when these cases arise, what always happens is that we gather data, learn more about Nature and how it functions, and adjust our knowledge accordingly. Opening the ark of the covenant would not have melted faces any more than going to Hebrew Woodstock, and Dagon did not fall over simply because someone put a gold box in the same room. Natural causes, people, natural causes.

In the words of the late, great David Hume, "No testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be more miraculous, than the fact, which it endeavors to establish."

Of course, if I were one of the Israelites back in the day, I would have thoroughly enjoyed having at my disposal a holy gold box that could function as a weapon of biological warfare and an instant genocide device. "Hey guys! Let's go put the ark out in the field for the Babylonians to find when they come try to sack Jerusalem! No, seriously, it'll be hilarious." That would've come in handy. . . .

Finally, His Holiness wanted to tell us today that we sometimes allow our conceptions of God to become too limited in scope, and that we should avoid this thinking like the plague. He asserted that if we think of God as being powerless and impotent, then we might try to take things into our own hands and, as a result, wander away from the yellow brick road of holiness and salvation. I mean, yeah, that'd be terrible. You know, for us to manage our own lives and make decisions for ourselves? That would suck a big one.

What His Holiness failed to point out is that the pendulum swings the other way as well. If we begin to think of God as an all-powerful being who micromanages every aspect of everything, we're going to end up sitting on our asses praying for the same miracle for twenty years, all the while ignoring the fact that nothing is ever going to change as a result of our prayers. I don't know about you, but I don't think I need to ask God what his opinion is about which classes I should take next semester. The answer, as with most everything, is probably to be found somewhere between these extremes. "God helps those who help themselves." That'll do.

Because you all have found the discussion board thread about religious schools so intriguing, I've started another one. Miracles. Do they happen? Evidence? Any great stories involving miracles? What if they don't happen?

Your move, Darwin.

"Keep near me and you will be safe."

Daedalus