Did He Really Say That?

There are lots of scripture passages that could be argued are the most important in the Bible. Any of the words of Jesus, the Ten Commandments, prophecies from the Old Testament, particularly Isaiah, might be among the contenders for most important passages in the Bible. And I would argue for many of those myself, but in this post, I am going to put forward Genesis 3:1, not as the most important, but very high in considering what your worldview is.

Now the snake was the most cunning* of all the wild animals that the LORD God had made. He asked the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You shall not eat from any of the trees in the garden’?”

This question was the turning point in all of human history. Whatever you believe about the Garden of Eden, or even about God, the devil, and Christianity, there is an important to point to notice. A choice was given: someone else's way or my way.

An important person in my life said to me about ten years ago, "When is somebody going to update the Bible?" It should be no wonder that this person has lost his way in terms of faith. His question really boils down to, "Did God really say that?" His suggestion is really saying, "God, get with the times! You are so outdated. You need to do it our way." 

If you are going to be a Christian, you need to know what Christianity is about. And once you have found out what it is about, if you aren't uncomfortable, then perhaps you still don't know what it's about. God said a lot of really uncomfortable things. He really said them. If you don't believe that the Bible is the inspired word of God, that it is a work of men, then revision seems a no-brainer. You can rewrite the Bible, but the end result will be a new religion. It will not be Christianity. But given that God really did say everything in the Bible, we should be very much not at ease.

Jesus did not say that the road to heaven was wide. He did not say that there was no hell, and if there is, it is empty. Jesus did not say if you are just a good person that is enough. He did not say that any religion or pathway can get you to heaven. It would be so much more comfortable if he had said those things. We would not have to be troubled by any inconveniences of religious practices. Our life would be unrestricted.

And that is where our culture has arrived: the removal of all restrictions.

In Exodus God outlines what the blessings will be if we live his way. He then outlines all the curses that will fall on us if we don't do things his way. He is a good parent. He gives the rules and tells what the consequences are if we don't follow them. Rules teach restraint, self-control. They teach us that we are not helpless victims of passions which rule us; rules give us control of ourselves. 

When you find out what happens if you don't obey God's rules, you should be afraid. Very afraid. And that's not bad. Proverbs 9:10 says, "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." A reverent, healthy fear of God is a good starting place. Our culture needs to get that back. Many of us have been cruising along doing things our own way, knowing that God, who we see as a sort of chump, will forgive us and let us into heaven anyway.

Jesus said many times, "Repent!" which basically means, "Change your life!" Change is hard, but he really said that, and we really need to listen.

Quilts and Perspective

Triangles, squares, and circles
Stitched in place to form
Patterns of a quilted spread
In colors bright and warm.

Bound together side by side
Larger shapes are made,
As triangles make a diamond
And squares become a frame.










Lines and curves enhance design
And flow along the seams.
Lights and darks become a guide
Revealing larger themes.

And when its done, a map is spread
With boundaries quite clear
Between the contrasts and the prints
Our eye is made to steer.

We see the plan: a united whole--
The vision becomes quite plain.
Together they are something more,
But distance shows our aim.

Drowsy

The weight of fecundity
In the greenery
Crushes more than a stratus sky.
Heavy, honey-scented air
And bumble bees buzzing
Are the reason why
I know the petals, stamen, stigma
Call for fertility,
Call for pollination,
Call for seeds to rise.
The weight of this demand
Makes me sleepy in the sun
And sluggish.

And the problem is...

When it is announced at Sunday mass that there is a holy day of obligation that week, you can almost feel the feet dragging and hear the groaning. A few eyes might roll. And yet we know that this is supposed to be a happy day, so why does it feel like such a burden?

Right now, the holy day is just one more thing we are obliged to do within our already overly committed schedules. It adds to the stress and fatigue without adding much joy to compensate. Over the years, I have noticed something though. When I decided to go to daily mass as often as possible, suddenly the days of obligation didn't seem like a big deal. Heck, I was already going anyway! While going to daily mass is a good thing, it is a choice. The only thing that holy days changed was that we tried to have a nice dessert that night. Well, at least that was something...

But it should be a day of joy. If we call them holy days of obligation, we send the wrong message: you are obliged to come to mass or go to hell. Why aren't they called holy days of celebration? A supporting culture would close stores, give everyone the day off, and we would have rip-roaring celebrations. Dream on. The secular culture does a better job with Fat Tuesday than Catholics do with virtually every holy day. Well, I admit that some of that secular celebrating obliges people to visit the confessional...

It doesn't help that the bishops sometimes don't make some of them days of obligation because it is just too much to ask people to acknowledge a holy day with mass attendance.

I have always been puzzled why Catholic schools don't cancel classes that day. What would get kids more exciting about a holy day than no school? Well, maybe if we have to have school in session, it would be an all-fun-and-no-homework day at the very least. As far as I can tell, the holy day only gets a nod and lectures and lessons go on as planned.

But I still feel that somehow our Catholic culture does not embrace holy days with the joy and celebratory attitude that they were intended to evoke. As Catholics, we need to get better at having a good party. Where are the parades, the costumes, the fireworks, the feasting, and the music? The problem is we stink at partying.

Being Beckoned

Recently I read the entire Horatio Hornblower series of books, and I also just completed the first book in the Master and Commander series. This reveals an obvious fascination with life on the sea during the Napoleonic era. Before the Industrial  Revolution and the age of machinery hit, men at sea were entirely dependent on and at the mercy of the weather to get anywhere. What becomes acutely obvious when reading these books is that a sensitivity to meteorological change meant the difference between life and death. Knowledge and skill in exploiting those changes heightened the chances of survival. Reading the winds meant escaping from the equatorial doldrums, riding the titanic storm, or outwitting the enemy in battle. Skillful maneuvering always brought high praise while poor seamanship elicited disdain of shipmates in the best circumstances, mutiny in the worst.

For most of us, our lives have become comfortable since then. We have to create situations to experience distress from the elements. We go camping, mountain hiking, surfing, and snorkeling to expose ourselves to the elements and danger. Watch the Olympics, and you wonder what new sport will be created by the time of the next Olympics for people to compete in, and how much more dangerous will the risks be. When I watched the skeleton competition (it's the opposite of luge where you go down the track on a tiny sled feet first on your back--skeleton is head first on your stomach), I could only wonder what kind of mind you had to have to go 80 plus miles per hour with your head only an inch from the track. Considered one of the most dangerous of Olympic events, it had difficulty getting accepted as a sport because of how risky it was. These people obviously love the challenge of danger.

We recently had a decently large snowfall. It created inconvenience and cancellations. There was no ducking this one. We had to face and deal with the weather. I find big snowfalls invigorating. I love to get outside and embrace it. I love to drive in it, shovel it, and stomp through it. Why? Because it is a challenge. I feel the weather is inviting me to come out and wrestle with it. And when that wind blows in my face, and my cheeks are chilly, and my legs begin to ache from wading through knee deep snow, I feel alive and that all is well. And when Horatio Hornblower or Lucky Jack Aubrey decline going to their cabin when the winds get strong and the rain is pelting down, I know that they also are glad to be alive and on deck. The elements beckon to them to meet the challenge.

I shouldn't be doing this right now.

It has been one month now since a vicious, relentless virus hit me, and I have not felt good since. Sinus pressure, choking on phlegm, hacking uncontrollably, headache, blah.

Christmas is four days away. I managed to get the Christmas tree up and listlessly threw a few ornaments its way. I put up the stockings. That may be it for decorating this year. I may only bake one kind of cookie. Being sick simplifies life.

My husband makes the best hot toddies in the world. His kindness this past month has kept me from becoming a puddle of weeping snot.

I should not be doing a blog post right now, but it takes little energy, and that's what I have. Only a little.

Life Is Good

I teach. Why do I do that? It is my passion. There is nothing more exhilarating to me than to see a face light up and get excited about my subject. When I teach, I am fully alive.

Some background. I went from kindergarten all the way through college without having a single teacher get me excited about their subject. I was convinced that teaching was the most boring, dead-end, passionless job one could choose. There were no role models for me.

Then I began teaching my own children. Here was a task with an incredible investment in it. To cover things that I couldn't do well myself, we joined a co-op where I had to teach others. The small experience I got there was like lighting a match in a room full of pure oxygen. A fire roared to life. I was hooked.

Find your passion. Your passion also just happens to be what you are good at! And then, if at all possible, find a way to make a living doing it. It is like putting the hot fudge sauce on the ice cream! It is slicing into a home-grown tomato from a plant you hovered over all summer. It is the killer serve you've perfected in your tennis game. What you have done has brought you joy. How good life is.