You have heard that it was said, “Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.” But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you. (Matthew 5:38-42)
The climax of the Doctor Who series 9 story “The Zygon Inversion” comes with a face-off: Human versus Zygon. Kate Stewart and Bonnie, the Zygon copy of Clara Oswald, each stand next to a box with two buttons, each with the ability to destroy one race or the other - or both.
The Doctor, of course, can’t just stand by and let them destroy themselves - he has to make them see reason. “You just want cruelty to beget cruelty,” he says. “ You're superior to people who were cruel to you. You're just a whole bunch of new, cruel people. A whole bunch of new, cruel people being cruel to some other people who'll end up being cruel to you. The only way anyone can live in peace is if they're prepared to forgive. Why don't you break the cycle?”
The first time I saw the episode, I labeled this scene as the Doctor’s “Jesus Moment,” because what he is asking Bonnie and Kate to do is the same radical thing Jesus demanded of his followers two thousand years ago. Indeed, it’s the same radical thing he still demands of us today. There are so many conflicts in the world that could be solved if people would just listen to the other side, forgive past wrongs, and move forward to solve problems together instead of engaging in the never-ending back-and-forth of seeking revenge. Everyone wants to save face when instead they should be making the bold move of turning the other cheek.
Easier said than done, I know. Evidently Jesus knew, too, because what he said next just might hold the key to breaking the cycle: I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Matthew 5:44)
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Sunday, March 20, 2016
The Vulcan Logic of Killing Hitler
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9)
In my last post, I discussed how Spock, in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, decided that the needs of the many — the Enterprise crew — outweighed the needs of the one — himself. But what if the one to be sacrificed is not the same one making the decision? To put it in terms of a classic time travel scenario, would you murder Hitler in order to save millions of other lives?
In the Tenth Doctor’s final story, “The End of Time,” Wilfred Mott confronts the Doctor with just such a question. They have escaped to an alien spacecraft high above the earth, while the Doctor’s old enemy, the Master, wreaks havoc on the planet below, having turned the entire human population into clones of himself. Wilf does the only thing he can think of to try to spur the Doctor into world-saving action — he offers him a gun. When appeals to the Doctor’s sense of self-preservation fall short (“Kill him before he kills you,” Wilf pleads), he asks what will happen to all the people if the Master dies. Upon learning that everyone will go back to being human, Wilf becomes angry with the Doctor: “Don’t you dare, sir. Don’t you dare put him before them.” Kill the one to save the many, in other words. Their needs outweigh the Master’s.
The Doctor continues to refuse, though. He can’t bring himself to kill the Master, not even to save everyone on Earth. The Master is just one, and a pretty evil one at that, but still he is one who matters to the Doctor, someone who was a friend of his, once upon a time — and someone who might still do something good one day.
Like the Doctor, Jesus demonstrates throughout his ministry that no person is unworthy of help or beyond redemption, not even the one sentenced to hang on the next cross over. When someone finally invents time travel, maybe the first trip back will be not to kill Hitler but to influence him to do good rather than evil. Until then, let us never give up on anyone as irredeemable, no matter how reprehensible he or she may seem to be — you never know when you might be the one who causes that person to change their ways and become a force for good in the world.
In my last post, I discussed how Spock, in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, decided that the needs of the many — the Enterprise crew — outweighed the needs of the one — himself. But what if the one to be sacrificed is not the same one making the decision? To put it in terms of a classic time travel scenario, would you murder Hitler in order to save millions of other lives?
In the Tenth Doctor’s final story, “The End of Time,” Wilfred Mott confronts the Doctor with just such a question. They have escaped to an alien spacecraft high above the earth, while the Doctor’s old enemy, the Master, wreaks havoc on the planet below, having turned the entire human population into clones of himself. Wilf does the only thing he can think of to try to spur the Doctor into world-saving action — he offers him a gun. When appeals to the Doctor’s sense of self-preservation fall short (“Kill him before he kills you,” Wilf pleads), he asks what will happen to all the people if the Master dies. Upon learning that everyone will go back to being human, Wilf becomes angry with the Doctor: “Don’t you dare, sir. Don’t you dare put him before them.” Kill the one to save the many, in other words. Their needs outweigh the Master’s.
The Doctor continues to refuse, though. He can’t bring himself to kill the Master, not even to save everyone on Earth. The Master is just one, and a pretty evil one at that, but still he is one who matters to the Doctor, someone who was a friend of his, once upon a time — and someone who might still do something good one day.
Like the Doctor, Jesus demonstrates throughout his ministry that no person is unworthy of help or beyond redemption, not even the one sentenced to hang on the next cross over. When someone finally invents time travel, maybe the first trip back will be not to kill Hitler but to influence him to do good rather than evil. Until then, let us never give up on anyone as irredeemable, no matter how reprehensible he or she may seem to be — you never know when you might be the one who causes that person to change their ways and become a force for good in the world.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
The Needs of How Many?
Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. (Luke 15: 4-7)
A major theme of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan revolves around Spock’s logical Vulcan mantra that “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” Indeed, it is the driving force behind Spock’s ultimate sacrifice at the end of the movie, when he enters the radiation-filled chamber to repair the warp drive so that the Enterprise may escape the explosion that Khan sets off just before he dies. The way Spock sees it, his individual need to stay alive is not as important as the needs of the many Enterprise crew members to get away from the explosion and certain death, so he does the logical thing and takes a lethal dose of radiation to repair the ship.
On the surface, it seems like Jesus did a similar thing - he died on the cross so that every person who ever lived might have the chance to escape death. But is this actually the case? If we look deeper, we find that, in fact, Jesus didn’t die for everyone. He died for one person - you.
When Jesus told parables about seeking the lost, he spoke of the shepherd who left the rest of his flock to find the one sheep that had wandered off, and the woman who rejoiced when she found the one coin out of several that had fallen out of her purse. I’m sure Jesus thought it was wonderful when his disciples baptized thousands that first Pentecost, but not because of the overall number - because of each one that accepted him that day.
In our world of majority rule, it is easy to see the logic of Spock’s statement, yet even Spock’s friends reject it - in the next movie, subtitled “The Search for Spock,” they are laying their own lives on the line to find and rescue one person, causing Spock to comment on the illogicality of humans. It’s our nature, apparently - and since Jesus was human, it was in his nature, too. We are called to seek out the one we can help, the one who needs to hear the good news, the one we can feed, clothe, and visit. The needs of the many are irrelevant when we focus on meeting the needs of the one in front of us, because that one is the only one who matters.
A major theme of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan revolves around Spock’s logical Vulcan mantra that “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” Indeed, it is the driving force behind Spock’s ultimate sacrifice at the end of the movie, when he enters the radiation-filled chamber to repair the warp drive so that the Enterprise may escape the explosion that Khan sets off just before he dies. The way Spock sees it, his individual need to stay alive is not as important as the needs of the many Enterprise crew members to get away from the explosion and certain death, so he does the logical thing and takes a lethal dose of radiation to repair the ship.
On the surface, it seems like Jesus did a similar thing - he died on the cross so that every person who ever lived might have the chance to escape death. But is this actually the case? If we look deeper, we find that, in fact, Jesus didn’t die for everyone. He died for one person - you.
When Jesus told parables about seeking the lost, he spoke of the shepherd who left the rest of his flock to find the one sheep that had wandered off, and the woman who rejoiced when she found the one coin out of several that had fallen out of her purse. I’m sure Jesus thought it was wonderful when his disciples baptized thousands that first Pentecost, but not because of the overall number - because of each one that accepted him that day.
In our world of majority rule, it is easy to see the logic of Spock’s statement, yet even Spock’s friends reject it - in the next movie, subtitled “The Search for Spock,” they are laying their own lives on the line to find and rescue one person, causing Spock to comment on the illogicality of humans. It’s our nature, apparently - and since Jesus was human, it was in his nature, too. We are called to seek out the one we can help, the one who needs to hear the good news, the one we can feed, clothe, and visit. The needs of the many are irrelevant when we focus on meeting the needs of the one in front of us, because that one is the only one who matters.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Giving
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21)
On one of Clara Oswald’s first trips through time and space with the Doctor, he takes her to an alien world with a bustling marketplace that is the Doctor Who equivalent of the Mos Eisley cantina. One unique feature of this world is that there is no currency made of “bits of paper” to trade back and forth. Instead, the people of Akhaten trade in items with sentimental value. According to the Doctor, the value comes from a sort of psychic stamp that the items gain from their owners, although Clara questions why people should have to give up things that are important to them, especially when she is the one asked to give up her late mother’s ring in order to rent a space-Vespa.
I wonder what would happen if we were suddenly required to put in the offering plate things of sentimental or emotional value to us instead of bits of paper and metal. Would it change the way we view the things we are attached to? Would it change our view of God, making us resentful for having to give up things we love?
Here’s the thing, though — isn’t that what God is already asking us to do? Not necessarily giving the church a family heirloom (although I recently read about the diamond rings and gold coins the Salvation Army occasionally finds in their kettles at Christmastime), but at the very least, making sure our priorities are in order and that we are willing to give up the tangible for the intangible, should it be asked of us.
You can’t take it with you, the saying goes, no matter how great a value you have psychically attached to it. Make sure your treasure, and your heart along with it, is in the right place.
On one of Clara Oswald’s first trips through time and space with the Doctor, he takes her to an alien world with a bustling marketplace that is the Doctor Who equivalent of the Mos Eisley cantina. One unique feature of this world is that there is no currency made of “bits of paper” to trade back and forth. Instead, the people of Akhaten trade in items with sentimental value. According to the Doctor, the value comes from a sort of psychic stamp that the items gain from their owners, although Clara questions why people should have to give up things that are important to them, especially when she is the one asked to give up her late mother’s ring in order to rent a space-Vespa.
I wonder what would happen if we were suddenly required to put in the offering plate things of sentimental or emotional value to us instead of bits of paper and metal. Would it change the way we view the things we are attached to? Would it change our view of God, making us resentful for having to give up things we love?
Here’s the thing, though — isn’t that what God is already asking us to do? Not necessarily giving the church a family heirloom (although I recently read about the diamond rings and gold coins the Salvation Army occasionally finds in their kettles at Christmastime), but at the very least, making sure our priorities are in order and that we are willing to give up the tangible for the intangible, should it be asked of us.
You can’t take it with you, the saying goes, no matter how great a value you have psychically attached to it. Make sure your treasure, and your heart along with it, is in the right place.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Close Encounters
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:8-11, KJV)
Roy Neary is an ordinary, hard-working, blue-collar guy. He’s out in his truck in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, doing his job, trying to figure out the cause of a power outage. Suddenly, strange things start happening around him and he finds himself in some kind of blinding spotlight from above. The instruments on his dashboard are going haywire, things are flying all around the cab, and the world seems to be shaking itself apart at the seams.
After the light goes away and everything is calm once more, he finds that he has been left with not only a strange sunburn on half of his face, but also a five-note earworm that just won’t go away and a strange compulsion to sculpt cylindrical rock formations out of mashed potatoes. Then, he finds he is one of a number of people who just can’t stay away from a particular place in Wyoming.
Roy’s experience in Close Encounters of the Third Kind is currently shaping my mental image of a group of shepherds in the hills near first-century Bethlehem. They were out in the middle of the night, in the middle of the fields, doing their jobs, when suddenly they were in the spotlight. The sky was going crazy above them, with first one strange being talking to them and then many, many more singing all around them. I imagine that the angels left them dazed, and they must have jumped a mile the first time a sheep bleated in the darkness afterwards.
I imagine also that they had a glorious new earworm and the mental image of a family in a stable, and when they conferred with each other about this, clearly they could not resist the pull to go into town and check it out. They found the family, the baby in the manger, and then they told everyone they met about their close encounter.
My wish is that we may have a close encounter this Christmas. May our ears be filled with the singing of angels and our minds be fixated on the Savior, but most of all, may our feet be compelled to go look for him and may our lips not keep silent but spread the good news everywhere we go.
Roy Neary is an ordinary, hard-working, blue-collar guy. He’s out in his truck in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, doing his job, trying to figure out the cause of a power outage. Suddenly, strange things start happening around him and he finds himself in some kind of blinding spotlight from above. The instruments on his dashboard are going haywire, things are flying all around the cab, and the world seems to be shaking itself apart at the seams.
After the light goes away and everything is calm once more, he finds that he has been left with not only a strange sunburn on half of his face, but also a five-note earworm that just won’t go away and a strange compulsion to sculpt cylindrical rock formations out of mashed potatoes. Then, he finds he is one of a number of people who just can’t stay away from a particular place in Wyoming.
Roy’s experience in Close Encounters of the Third Kind is currently shaping my mental image of a group of shepherds in the hills near first-century Bethlehem. They were out in the middle of the night, in the middle of the fields, doing their jobs, when suddenly they were in the spotlight. The sky was going crazy above them, with first one strange being talking to them and then many, many more singing all around them. I imagine that the angels left them dazed, and they must have jumped a mile the first time a sheep bleated in the darkness afterwards.
I imagine also that they had a glorious new earworm and the mental image of a family in a stable, and when they conferred with each other about this, clearly they could not resist the pull to go into town and check it out. They found the family, the baby in the manger, and then they told everyone they met about their close encounter.
My wish is that we may have a close encounter this Christmas. May our ears be filled with the singing of angels and our minds be fixated on the Savior, but most of all, may our feet be compelled to go look for him and may our lips not keep silent but spread the good news everywhere we go.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Running
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10)
The very first word the Doctor says in the new series of Doctor Who is “Run,” and in the following scene we see him leading Rose Tyler down a basement hallway to escape a horde of shop-window dummies who have come to life. It is Russell T. Davies’ way of paying homage to the classic series, where “running through corridors” had become a familiar description of what various characters were often doing through many stories over the years.
In more recent seasons, the phrase “base under siege” has been resurrected to describe another Classic Who story type in which the characters find that the TARDIS has conveniently malfunctioned, leaving them stuck in one place, surrounded by an enemy of some sort and unable to escape until they’ve dealt with the problem.
Too often in my life I feel like I am doing nothing more than running through corridors, scrambling to keep up with everything that I need to do and racing to complete tasks as the deadlines loom ever nearer behind me. Other times it seems more like I am being bombarded from every side with one more assignment to complete, responsibility to take on, or situation to deal with.
I need my “to do” lists - by themselves they’re a highly useful tool, and the structure of a list helps me organize my time and efforts while preventing me from forgetting to take care of important things in a timely manner. The danger lies in letting my to do list become the end-all, be-all. I start out making a list as a plan of attack or a roadmap to a goal but all too soon checking things off becomes the all-encompassing mission and I find myself once again being chased down the corridor by a monster of my own making.
How do I remind myself to stop running, stop fighting? It’s a question I don’t have a good answer for, yet it is important, and needs to be addressed. Do I put “Be still” on my to do list? It’s there already, actually, and I check it off after I spend about five minutes with my eyes closed following my daily devotional reading each morning before I get out bed. It has become one more box to tick, one more step in my race through the day, rather defeating the purpose.
“Be still and know that I am God,” writes the Psalmist, and mostly it’s the “be still” that we have latched onto. But go back and read the whole Psalm - it’s the one that begins with another familiar and oft-quoted verse, the one that says “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” It is reminding us that yes, our base is under siege, but don’t forget that our besieged fortress is God himself and is therefore impenetrable. I pray that I will remember this when the to do list attacks. I pray that I may be able to stop running and to rest secure in the knowledge that God surrounds me whether I get everything done or not.
The very first word the Doctor says in the new series of Doctor Who is “Run,” and in the following scene we see him leading Rose Tyler down a basement hallway to escape a horde of shop-window dummies who have come to life. It is Russell T. Davies’ way of paying homage to the classic series, where “running through corridors” had become a familiar description of what various characters were often doing through many stories over the years.
In more recent seasons, the phrase “base under siege” has been resurrected to describe another Classic Who story type in which the characters find that the TARDIS has conveniently malfunctioned, leaving them stuck in one place, surrounded by an enemy of some sort and unable to escape until they’ve dealt with the problem.
Too often in my life I feel like I am doing nothing more than running through corridors, scrambling to keep up with everything that I need to do and racing to complete tasks as the deadlines loom ever nearer behind me. Other times it seems more like I am being bombarded from every side with one more assignment to complete, responsibility to take on, or situation to deal with.
I need my “to do” lists - by themselves they’re a highly useful tool, and the structure of a list helps me organize my time and efforts while preventing me from forgetting to take care of important things in a timely manner. The danger lies in letting my to do list become the end-all, be-all. I start out making a list as a plan of attack or a roadmap to a goal but all too soon checking things off becomes the all-encompassing mission and I find myself once again being chased down the corridor by a monster of my own making.
How do I remind myself to stop running, stop fighting? It’s a question I don’t have a good answer for, yet it is important, and needs to be addressed. Do I put “Be still” on my to do list? It’s there already, actually, and I check it off after I spend about five minutes with my eyes closed following my daily devotional reading each morning before I get out bed. It has become one more box to tick, one more step in my race through the day, rather defeating the purpose.
“Be still and know that I am God,” writes the Psalmist, and mostly it’s the “be still” that we have latched onto. But go back and read the whole Psalm - it’s the one that begins with another familiar and oft-quoted verse, the one that says “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” It is reminding us that yes, our base is under siege, but don’t forget that our besieged fortress is God himself and is therefore impenetrable. I pray that I will remember this when the to do list attacks. I pray that I may be able to stop running and to rest secure in the knowledge that God surrounds me whether I get everything done or not.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Home
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6: 19-21)
“Home is where the heart is,” the old adage says, and since Jesus said that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also,” it’s no wonder that so many people set such store on finding a home, being at home, going home.
Going home is a theme in The Hobbit that is particularly emphasized in Peter Jackson’s recent movies. There is a pivotal scene in the first film, just after the party's escape from the goblins, in which Bilbo Baggins finally comes to a realization about the nature of the dwarves’ quest. For most of the journey so far, he has been wishing that he had stayed home. He would like nothing better than to be back at Bag End, reading his books and smoking his pipe and eating his second breakfast. However, at the same time that the hobbit is acknowledging his longing for home, he recognizes the same longing in the dwarves, whose hearts lie in the Lonely Mountain alongside their literal treasure. Seeing this common bond between them, movie-Bilbo then pledges to help the dwarves in their quest.
Bilbo’s treasure is simplicity and comfort - a snug house, plenty of food, pathways on which to ramble and books to read by the fire. The dwarves’ treasure is gold and jewels and the strength of a mighty mountain stronghold. Where is your treasure? Is it on earth, where goblin armies can invade and dragons can make their beds out of it? Is it in a far away land where friends and neighbors can auction it off to the highest bidder because they think you will never return? Or is it in heaven, in God’s presence, in the intangibles of love and family and peace and worship that no one can ever take away? Choose wisely and you’ll always have a place to call home.
“Home is where the heart is,” the old adage says, and since Jesus said that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also,” it’s no wonder that so many people set such store on finding a home, being at home, going home.
Going home is a theme in The Hobbit that is particularly emphasized in Peter Jackson’s recent movies. There is a pivotal scene in the first film, just after the party's escape from the goblins, in which Bilbo Baggins finally comes to a realization about the nature of the dwarves’ quest. For most of the journey so far, he has been wishing that he had stayed home. He would like nothing better than to be back at Bag End, reading his books and smoking his pipe and eating his second breakfast. However, at the same time that the hobbit is acknowledging his longing for home, he recognizes the same longing in the dwarves, whose hearts lie in the Lonely Mountain alongside their literal treasure. Seeing this common bond between them, movie-Bilbo then pledges to help the dwarves in their quest.
Bilbo’s treasure is simplicity and comfort - a snug house, plenty of food, pathways on which to ramble and books to read by the fire. The dwarves’ treasure is gold and jewels and the strength of a mighty mountain stronghold. Where is your treasure? Is it on earth, where goblin armies can invade and dragons can make their beds out of it? Is it in a far away land where friends and neighbors can auction it off to the highest bidder because they think you will never return? Or is it in heaven, in God’s presence, in the intangibles of love and family and peace and worship that no one can ever take away? Choose wisely and you’ll always have a place to call home.
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