Friday, October 26, 2012

Thoughts from the Cosmetic Aisle

A couple nights ago I was sent to return some left-behind products to the cosmetics department of the store where I work.  Upon stepping into the first aisle, I found myself surrounded with completely unfamiliar products.  There were rows upon rows of strange powders in small clear cases carefully arranged into racks and sorted by color--even though they were all really just very, very slightly different shades of brown.  There were pencils of various sorts and descriptions, again carefully arranged by indistinguishable shades of black, red, green, or blue.  The lipsticks and nail polish presented similar problems.  Then, there were all sorts of arcane-looking metal and plastic tools.  Finally, there were things there that I'd never even known existed: false eyelashes, plastic fingernails with break-off tabs like the models I assembled with plastic cement when I was a kid...

I found my way around eventually and started putting the products in my handbasket back in their places on the shelves (it really helped that all those color-sorted products also had numerical codes written on the back to help me tell that the foundation I held was "sand" colored instead of "sunkissed," which are visually indistinguishable).  However, as I worked, though, I couldn't shake the feeling of strangeness and revulsion.  I was trying hard not to imagine how one would go about using glue-on eyelashes or a sharp, metal probe called a "cuticle remover" (or the accidents that could result from the same).  Even when I managed that successfully, I kept imagining a woman who used all of these things: false eyelashes, plastic fingernails and toenails, penciled-in eyebrows, layers of foundation, mascara, and lipstick, every inch of skin shaved, plucked, waxed, prodded, and probed...a woman who was more artificial than natural.  Worse, I imagined a woman who might think she needed all of that: a woman who was so convinced of her ugliness that she believed she needed to cover every inch of herself in a thick mask of made-in-China plastics, powders, and glazes in order to be presentable.  That thought made me feel sick at heart.  If I knew such a girl, I would spray her with a waterhose until she was clean from all the makeup and artificial junk, till she was just herself: genuine, real, unassuming, and beautiful.  Like many men, I know that women are more beautiful without any makeup on.  People are more attractive when they're real and not putting on a show.

Now, if you're a woman and you're reading this (and wearing makeup), please don't think I'm judging you and your choices.  They are your own.  If you prefer to use makeup, if you think you need some in order to look the way you want to, far be it from me to say what you should and shouldn't do, what makes you look better or worse.  You know that far better than I!  But those were my thoughts while I walked the cosmetics aisle, and I don't think it was by accident I was there.  God was trying to tell me something about the way He sees me.  Every day, I am tempted to look at my life, my heart, my feelings, thoughts, and desires, and say, "Eww, I can't let God catch me looking like this.  I've got to prune this, get rid of that, cover all of this over, and mask it all in spiritual practices x, y, and z."  There's nothing wrong with makeup, and there's nothing wrong with spiritual practices, but what I'm tempted to do is make a mask, an artificial self, whereby I can be presentable to God.  I'm tricked into thinking that without a mask, I'm repulsive: that if God saw me as I really am, He'd turn away from me.  But the truth is God saw me as I really was before I knew Him, when I was at my absolute worst...and He loved me.  He had compassion on me and took me in.  When I was dead and polluted with blood, He said to me, "Live!" (Ezekiel 16:3-14).  When I was ugly as I could be, He had compassion on me, and made me beautiful, and made me His own.  Now, He sees me as I can never quite see myself, as His beloved, as His radiant and worthy Bride (Revelation 3:4).  When I walked the cosmetics aisle and ruefully thought, Women are more attractive without makeup, He agreed: Christians shine brighter without their masks.

I know that Christian "makeup" was a big thing in my past.  My relationship with God was more about keeping on a mask than being real with Him.  But God has His own version of a waterhose and, thankfully, is none too shy about using it.  There are still times and places where masks and makeup wait for me, but my heart before Him is clean, wet, dripping, laughing, bright, and beautiful.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

God and Politics

They say there are two things you must never, ever discuss with strangers at a party: religion and politics.  To broach these subjects is not necessarily rude in itself, but views held in these areas are held very strongly and you're apt to have the unpleasant surprise of finding yourself discussing them with someone who holds a polar opposite view from yourself.  If that happens, its assumed that because of how political and religious views are so tightly held, the two of you are doomed to either awkward silence or a scathing verbal exchange as you attempt to beat your view into your opponent.  Thus, never discuss religion or politics.

What's worse is a combination of the two.  This is what I've experienced several times recently.  I consider myself both a Christian and a Republican and hold them to be relatively unrelated things (that is, I allow that a Christian could be just as good a Christian as I and yet be a Democrat as well).  However, recently, I've heard from a couple different sources that this is not so.  In fact, in order to be a good Christian, one must necessarily be a Democrat.

It's said in different ways.  One friend put it mildly, "I'll be voting Democratic because I think they're more Christlike."  One posted a quote that put it bluntly, "If you don't want tax dollars helping the sick and poor, then it's time to stop saying you want a government based on Christian values."  A third went much farther, saying that if any Christian considered him or herself a member of the "religious right" "you should not call yourself that ...because they are antichrist[,] doing the opposite of what Jesus would do. They push law and judgment instead grace and love...".  So my friends have a broad range of views and ways to put them, but a common theme emerges among them.  Being liberal (or at the very least, not being conservative) is being a good Christian because (1) you don't force moral law on people, and (2) you support government initiatives in social justice.  Presumably, these two are both things that Christ did that are central to His character and mission.  If you don't support them or, worse, oppose them, then you are, therefore, not a good Christian.

To say I'm a bit put-off by this stance would be putting it mildly.  I think it's just fine to be fully convinced of your political position.  It's good, in fact.  I think it's also perfectly fine to draw certain points of your political position from your faith--in fact, another good thing!  The problem comes when we take our political view and project it back on Christ and tell the world or the people around us, "Christ was a member of such-and-such a party.  Christ would have voted this way.  To be a member of this political party and support them is more Christian than to vote otherwise."

In reality, Christ was not and is not affiliated with any political party.  There were no political parties comparable to our own in 1st Century Israel, and the parties that did exist (primarily the Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, and Zealots) could not claim Jesus as a member.  He offended all of them equally.  It's well known that Christ told the Pharisees they were hypocrites.  He gave the same to the Sadducees, and to add insult to injury His rising from the dead disproved one of their core beliefs--that there was no resurrection (see Acts 23:6, where Paul effectively uses this split between Pharisees and Sadducees as a diversion).  Herodians hated him because Jesus joined John the Baptist in condemning their leader (King Herod) for his gross sexual immorality.  Zealots hated Him because He paid taxes to the Roman oppressors and taught His followers to do the same, thereby supporting the regime the Zealots saw as the embodiment of all evil.  Also, when they tried to make Him king, He ran (John 6:15).  Jesus was completely outside their system and above their petty politics.

Thus, when we say that Christ was a member of party X or would have voted for Y, or supported political agenda Z, we are simply liars going about trying to inflate our own egos into hammers with which we can beat other people down.  It is ironic to me that I have received this treatment from three people who say the reason they think being Democratic is being Christian is that Christ was loving.  Are political ego-hammers loving too?  Apparently so.

But someone will object: "Christ really did love social justice and hate restrictive moral law!"  Since social justice and restrictive moral law are still issues on the political table today, logically, we should be able to say that Christ's stand on them would remain unchanged.  That is, assuming the context and nature of these questions has not changed.

As I said, I am a Republican and as such I oppose Democratic government program for social justice as a general rule.  I do not do this because I hate poor people and want to see them starve.  I do not do this because I am opposed to social justice in general.  In fact, I support social justice--but I don't think it's the government's job.  I think it's the individual's job.  The government is ill-equipped to dispense social justice in my opinion.  It has its own massive bills (and ginormous debt) to pay.  Paying for social justice and welfare programs keeps it from its central responsibilities to public defense, security, safety, education, and enterprise (notice that as our government is splurging on welfare and social justice programs it's cutting defense and education budgets, laying off policemen, letting infrastructure fall apart, closing fire stations, and pushing the highest corporate tax rate in the world which tops out at over 50 cents of every dollar earned).  It's also mired in layers of bureaucracy which make it difficult for the government to respond to social justice issues quickly and effectively--as well as making it extremely easy to take advantage of and con.  Individual donors are less susceptible--if not immune--to many of these pitfalls.  As an additional benefit, individual philanthropists--like the poor--are always and will always be with us.  The government, if it keeps spending this way, will be tottering on the edge of complete financial collapse, just like Greece, before I turn 40.  I therefore oppose government social justice because I see myself supporting a truer and more lasting version it attempts unsuccessfully to replace.

Would Christ agree with me?  I have no idea.  Certainly, Christ advocated charity to the poor.  However, Christ never once said this had to come in the form of government hand-outs.  He always advocated charity from individuals who had wealth to give, as did all the authors of the New Testament.  Yet this does not mean that Christ would necessarily hold the same position in America today.  Remember, He and the other New Testament Christians lived in Rome 2,000 years ago.  A lot has changed.  For one, we now have a government that actually sees social justice and welfare programs as serious issues that must be dealt with all the time.  Roman Emperors gave them passing notice, but many were too busy conquering the world, each other, and appointing their favorite horse to the Senate.  No stance of Christ on the issue of government welfare or social justice programs can be found recorded in scripture.  While my view may be traceable to my faith and I am fully convinced of it, other views may be equally valid and equally Christian.

The issue of law is a little clearer in my mind.  To me, it has nothing to do with party lines and everything to do with an understanding of what a law is.  My Democratic friends are forever reminding me: "You can't legislate morality."  But a law is just that: a moral conviction legislated.  We have laws against murder because we (the majority--who make the laws) believe murder is morally wrong.  We have laws against polygamy because we believe it is morally wrong to have more than one wife.  We have laws against reckless driving because we believe it is morally wrong to endanger the lives of others by one's mishandling of a motor vehicle.  Behind every single law is a moral conviction.  That being said, there is nothing at all wrong with legislating moral convictions in general.  The question really arises around certain moral convictions that are in dispute and it's not (properly) a question of can morality be legislated or not (it certainly can), but to what extent it should be governed by law.  For example, I believe failure to worship the one true God constitutes a moral offense to Him by denying His nature--that is, I believe it is morally wrong. Yet even so, I do not think we ought to pass a law requiring worship of God!  It should be given freely and if it is to be given freely people must be left free of law so that people can make their own decision.  To bring it closer to home, I believe abortion is morally equivalent to manslaughter since I believe a human being becomes a human being when they have the unique genetic code that sets them apart as their own individual human person (this happens at conception).  Many Christians feel the same, but are also torn by the difficult situations a woman choosing abortion might be faced with (poverty, rape, incest, threat to her own life).  Should a law therefore be passed outlawing abortion or no?  Should choice or law reign in this moral quandary?  I believe law is the correct answer here.

But again, would Christ agree with me?  The Bible does not say.  Nowhere in the Bible is abortion clearly addressed.  While it's true that Christ opposed man-made religious laws (such as the Pharisee's tradition that God would be okay with you dishonoring your parents if you did it as a part of dedication to temple service: Mark 7:10-13, a belief which--on a sidenote--finds its companion in the teachings of many modern cults which encourage adherence to the group and obedience to its leaders over honor to even believing parents), Christ did not speak on civil law at any point that I can recall.  Paul, in Romans 13, taught obedience to civil law, but I can think of no Christian in scripture who ever talked about what civil law was or was not to be.  The reason was really quite simple: Christians of the day were in no position to make civil law.  The lawmakers of the day were Romans and Jews, and they were much too busy trying to kill the Christians to bother about what laws the Christians thought were and were not good ideas.  The only time the Bible speaks directly to civil law is in the Old Testament, where God lays down the civil law of a theocratic Israel.  We do not live in a theocracy now, so there's no telling whether Christ would uphold those laws in our altered circumstances or not.  While I believe my position is informed by my faith and I am convinced of it, other positions may equally be drawn from equal Christian faith and may be equally valid.

Religion and politics are closely held and interrelated--and that's not necessarily bad!  What is bad is when we take a dogmatic position on murky issues in either field and put our view forward as the only valid view that can be held.  What's worse is when we combine the two fields and say, "You can only be a good Christian if you agree with my politics."  When the Bible doesn't clearly back our particular political view, we are simply wrong to judge the faithfulness of others and puff up the self-righteousness of ourselves based on politics.

Perhaps if we avoided these things and held our political and religious convictions with a more open hand, we would have no need to ban the discussion of religion and politics at parties.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Thoughts from a Motorcycle Accident

Today, I witnessed a fatal motorcycle accident.  Two bikers passed me and a bunch of other cars and attempted to pass in front of the semi that was leading the pack.  They managed to speed past him, but a sharp bend in the road came next.  One biker made the turn.  The other's bike overturned during the turn, leaving him to slide into the guardrail.  He was dead at the scene.

How quickly life can end!  How suddenly!  One minute, that man was blazing along on his motorcycle, rushing past cars, heading for the freeway--so full of life!  The next, he lay dead with his buddy doing the sign of the cross over him.  Life is like a vapor.  If this is the life we live, so fragile, so easily taken away, we should value it, each moment.  We should never miss an opportunity to show love for another or receive love ourselves, for every opportunity could be our last.

And what God do we envision ruling over this world, where life is so short?  Where one biker makes it and the other doesn't?  Where the simple laws of physics can be so brutally unforgiving?  If we imagine a god who is so omnibenevolent that he wouldn't hurt a fly, we must confess he is a god very much powerless in our world.  If we imagine a cruel, heartless god, we must confess he has some stroke of madness, for the other biker lived, unharmed, as did all the other motorists in that line of cars and trucks.  God is neither cruel nor kind.  He is good.  He cares, and he will be with the family and friends as they grieve.  Yet He also judges.  None of us are innocent, not the biker who died, not the one who lived, not even the people in their cars.  Judgment comes for us suddenly, and it can be as unforgiving as physics.  When Jesus heard of the Jews on whom a tower had collapsed, He did not mourn such a horrible accident.  He did not mock and laugh.  He warned: "Do you suppose those men were worse sinners than yourselves?  No, and if you don't repent, you will also perish" (Luke 13:4-5, paraphrased).  He cared enough to warn us, to ask us to repent, but He is stern enough to carry out justice without remorse if we refuse.  He is a God both fearsome and gentle, loving and terrifying.