Category: Genesis

Following Jesus in a wild world of relativism

Published by Daniel on January 8, 2023

I often look at the world around me with bewilderment and wonder whether I the one missing something.

Am I just not getting it?

Surely, I can’t be the only one connecting the dots between the current reality and insanity.

I don’t claim I am the only sane person in the world. I just have trouble understanding it.

And that has occasionally boiled over into frustration.

Recently a major paradigm shift has increased exponentially with each passing year. Symptoms include inconsistency, slippery definitions, construction of truth narratives filled with blatant yet unrecognized contradictions, and lack of self-awareness. This shift is happening institutionally, culturally, and even individually.

It’s everywhere.

Before the 118^th Congress met, news broke that Republican Congressman-elect George Santos of New York had lied about pretty much everything on his resume: his ancestry, education, employment, charity work, etc.

His response: “This will not deter me from having good legislative success. I will be effective. I will be good.”[1]

How will he be good—when he is an outright liar? In a courtroom, when a person gets caught in a lie, everything he or she says before and after loses all credibility. Why hasn’t this guy bowed out?

Several years ago, around the 2016 election, I talked with a Trump supporter who knowingly passed on articles and posts that were either suspect, or totally made up. When I questioned this, he shrugged. It didn’t matter what was true. It only mattered that Trump got elected.

The other side (one famous past example was then-senator Harry Reid) also has been caught doing exactly the same thing.

In 2022, the United States’ economy entered into a recession based on the definition of the word used by Democrats and Republicans, journalists and economists, as well as the most in the business communities for nearly 50 years.[2]

Yet suddenly the administration — widely blamed for causing it — changed the definition. Thus, apparently, the financial struggle of many Americans is all in our heads.

Last year, the president himself claimed gas was five dollars a gallon when he took office, apparently to take credit for bringing it “down” to $3.39 at that time.

But in truth, gas documentably averaged $2.39 per gallon the day he took office, and its skyrocket to over $5 per gallon was clearly after he had been at the helm for a full eighteen months. [3]

What is incredibly disturbing is “fact-checkers,” self-proclaimed gatekeepers of facts, are nothing more than partisan stooges. In several cases, Snopes, a long-time legitimate source for rebuffing urban legends and conspiracy theories, fact-checked many articles from the Babylon Bee, a satirical site that actually makes no effort to hide it..

A “fact-check” page fact-checking a satire site whose motto is “Fake News You Can Trust”?

And we’re suddenly confronted with, out of nowhere, dozens of new genders, each with new made-up pronouns.

To question this makes you the bad guy.

My favorite example of a world gone mad was when journalists, who for years defended the “moderation” of conservatives on Twitter, screamed “fascism” when Elon Musk bought Twitter and in turn started moderating them.

It made me wonder how they somehow could not see the irony.

Every new day seems to outdo the previous ones.

However, I honestly don’t think the world has simply gone insane or that the inmates are running the asylum.

It has more to do with the dominant worldview that has settled into the majority of the country: relativism.

This reality is what you get when every individual believes he or she has the authority to construct their own reality, their own truth.

Relative, the root word of relativism, is, relatively speaking, a harmless word. It means in relation to or in proportion to some else. If I tell a group to think of a “red vehicle,” all will imagine something different. Some might describe a red Ferrari. Others might think of a red ’69 Camaro. Others a red truck.

Further, each person might see a different shade of red: fire engine red, dark red, etc.

The definition each person comes up with when thinking of a “red vehicle” imagines it in relation to their own interests, culture, and preferences.

There is nothing wrong with that. Unless you apply it to everything and take it to its extreme: total relativism.

Relativism is a philosophy in which knowledge, truth, and morality are constructed in relation to culture or a particular context (geographical, historical, etc.). Truth is constructed according to these things.

And since truth and knowledge are constructed, the relativists believe neither can be absolute. Facts are not necessarily facts, and truth is simply created in a group, tribe, or mind.

Therefore, if I wanted to be a different gender or species, that is my truth, and no one can tell me otherwise.

Further, relativism is not about seeking that which is true; it is about constructing the narrative. It holds that all truth is created, so I can create any narrative I desire.

Thus, I am not accountable to an absolute truth which transcends all cultures and historical contexts.

This is now the dominant worldview in the United States.

And it is why nothing makes sense.

It is not enough for the Christ-follower to shake their heads in disgust (which admittedly I tend to do) or lament days gone by.

We must keep in mind that God is not surprised by America’s current condition. When Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, God knew this would be the result.

And so did the crafty serpent.

To Eve, the serpent said: “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). In other words: you will be like God. You get to personally define (construct) what is good and evil.

When humans get to decide good and evil, right and wrong, and even truth itself, you have the mess of relativism.

Yet this is the world the Christ-follower is called to reach.

Christians often try to combat relativism with reason and rational arguments. But this, frankly, seldom works. People who build their own reality couldn’t care less if they are contradicting themselves.

Relativism is full of contradictions. For example, if a woman says there is no such thing as absolute truth, she often has zero awareness that her statement is an absolute statement in and of itself.

Further, I could tell another that my personal truth says it is justified for me to steal. I am pretty sure he would protest if I went for his wallet.

But he would not connect the dots.

Satan’s temptation to be your own god and creating your own definition of good and evil is just too exciting to worry about any contradictions.

But we absolutely have to remember that Jesus died for relativists too. When on the cross he prayed, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he was praying it for them as well as me.

So how does a follower of Jesus live and function in this world that we’re also commanded to reach?

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32).

Our job is to be Jesus to the world around us. We are to go to the scripture itself not to learn how to make the perfect rational argument against relativism (or other worldviews) but to teach ourselves how Jesus specifically interacted with the lost.

What does it mean to “love our neighbors as ourselves” (Matthew 22:39)?

How do I live the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) in responding to the relativist society?

What is my answer to the question “who is my neighbor” (Luke 10:25-37)?

How do I speak the truth of Jesus Christ to a lost world with love lest I come across as an obnoxiously clanging cymbal (1 Corinthians 13:1-2)?

How can I help others by being salt that is tasty, not bitter, or a light that is guiding not blinding? (Matthew 5:13)?

These are tough questions that every Christ-follower must meditate on and pray about. This is how we navigate our respective roles in the Great Commission.

Make no mistake, we live in a relativist, post-Christian culture. That will not change. Christianity is now marginalized. For speaking truth, we’re considered crazy.. Gene Veith in his book Post-Christian wrote: “Those who would impose their morality on those who do not share it, those who demand conformity, and those who punish the dissenters are now the militant secularists. Christians are not used to being considered ‘the wicked.’ But we should probably get used to it.”

We must be sure of our priorities in the Kingdom worldview.

Fighting and beating the relativist culture isn’t our end game.

Making disciples in a relativist society is.

[1] https://www.foxnews.com/politics/new-york-rep-elect-george-santos-confesses-lies-about-his-resume

[2] https://www.forbes.com/advisor/investing/what-is-a-recession/

[3] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/biden-falsely-says-the-price-of-gas-was-more-than-dollar5-when-he-took-office/ar-AA13sEx4

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Life on the altar

Published by Daniel on February 17, 2015

Contrary to the popular saying, time does not heal all wounds. Instead, it brings perspective.

February is the month when, seven years ago, I flew to England to defend my final doctoral thesis – only to watch it vaporize in less than an hour.

Since then, for the last seven years, February has always felt dark and heavy. I thought my sadness would dissipate, little by little, with each passing year, but it hasn’t. You don’t get over loss; you come to terms with it. I’m still trying to come to terms with why God led me into that doctoral program, only to let it blow up in my face.

Many people have tried to explain this mystery. Some have suggested that maybe I didn’t hear God correctly, or maybe I didn’t even listen – maybe my prayers for guidance were only a token gesture, seeking a rubber stamp on what I had already decided to do.

I have wrestled with this possibility, and have tried to discern whether it could be even partly true.

However, to this day, despite the rotten outcome, I still believe with all my heart that God led me into that particular program, and provided the funds. (Fortunately, I didn’t go into debt to pay for it—I paid as I went along.) Yes, I have erred and even sinned in the past, and will continue to do so in the future. But the same can be said of all the students who earned their degrees before me, as well as all those who did so after.

Sometimes when we can’t understand something, we “fill in the blank” with easy answers. And “maybe you didn’t hear God” is the easiest answer. It’s similar to Job’s friends concluding that his suffering was caused by sin – a conclusion later rebutted by God (Job 38-42).

No, there’s something more to this catastrophe than the possibility that I was just unwilling or unable (too rebellious or dense) to hear and obey God’s direction for my life.

* * *

In Genesis 22, God commands Abraham to go to a certain mountain and sacrifice Isaac, the son of the promise – the son who, miraculously born to Sarah at age 90, God has promised to bless with descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky.

In Genesis terms, to “sacrifice” Isaac means to kill him—that is, to ritualistically place him on an altar, slit his throat, and burn his body.

I won’t lie to you: that is a disturbing command.

Sure, we know the ending: Abraham lays Isaac on the altar to kill him, but at the last second an angel prevents the killing. God’s command turns out to be just a test of Abraham’s faith, and Abraham passes the test. At least, that’s our confident Sunday school interpretation of this story.

But the story has perhaps less to do with faith than with sheer obedience. Metaphorically speaking, the life on the altar is really Abraham’s – not Isaac’s.

In this story, Abraham cannot possibly know the ending. He only knows that God – the very God who initiated Isaac’s miraculous birth and promised Isaac’s descendants will be too numerous to count – now commands the killing of that same Isaac.

God is asking Abraham to kill his own future – his dream.

Apparently God never intended to let Abraham go through with it, because after the surreal almost-sacrifice of Isaac, a ram is provided to be sacrificed instead (v. 13).

But Abraham still lost something – something very precious. His obedience had to change the father-son dynamic.

I mean, come on – there’s Dad standing over you, holding a knife to your throat. That’ll stick with you.

The hike back down the mountain must have been filled with awkward silences and suspicious glances.

And imagine the dinner conversation that night…

Sarah: “So how was your trip?”

Isaac: “Dad tried to kill me.”

Abraham’s actions must have destroyed Isaac’s trust for a good long while, maybe even forever. Scripture doesn’t indicate whether he eventually came to understand Abraham’s shocking attack against him, so we really don’t know.

Yet like a kamikaze, Abraham went all in.

That’s life on the altar.

* * *

Like Abraham, I feel that my own life is on the altar. I still believe God led me into that doctoral program – and then chose to take it as a sacrifice when it went up in smoke, so to speak.

In relationship to God, we all are in the position of Isaac – a living sacrifice on the altar. And though God, my father, seemed to kill me – my future and my dreams – ultimately it’s about continuing to trust him, no matter what.

It appears that God’s plan for me is not a full-time career in academia, as I envisioned, but rather a kind of ministry of encouragement to others who have suffered painful, humiliating losses or failures like mine. Since the publication of my book, Losers Like Us, I have been able to share my story with others who have experienced such losses or have questioned their purpose in life, as I have. I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I do feel an intimate connection with their pain. That connection would not exist if my PhD effort had passed.

Time does not heal the wound. But it does widen and deepen my perspective. As painful as it was, my story—seven years of time, money, and hope, sacrificed on the altar—is not about me; it is about obeying God just because he is God.

Even when a sacrifice has to die.

You can read more about wrestling with God and his grace in my book, Losers Like Us – Redefining Discipleship After Epic Failure. For details, see my book page.

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New life in the zombie apocalypse, part 4: Spiritual weapons and sustenance

Published by Daniel on November 13, 2014

Note: I love zombie apocalypse stories because they are a great metaphor for life crises. This blog series on the topic has four parts: 1) waking up in the crisis; 2) defining “alive”; 3) abandoning self-sufficiency; and 4) spiritual weapons and sustenance. All scriptures are NIV unless otherwise noted.

To conclude our journey through the zombie apocalypse, we’ll discuss the two most important keys to survival: What about weapons for self-defense? And what about sustenance (food and water)?

So, what about weapons?

Would I choose a projectile-type weapon (for example, a gun or crossbow), or a melee weapon (such as a hatchet, sword, or dagger) for close, hand-to-hand combat?

There is no better reassurance than having a gun hanging off one shoulder—the bigger, the better. However, a gun is loud (zombies can hear, you know!), bullets could be hard to find, and a lot could happen in the moment it takes to reload. In fact, in a 2013 television episode of Mythbusters, Jamie and Adam took on the question of weapons in the zombie apocalypse. They compared a melee weapon (an electronic axe that registered fatal hits) to a projectile weapon (a gun which did the same) and found that the former kept a person alive longer, because the latter took too much time to reload. So if they say so, it must be true.

Similarly, in our daily spiritual battle against evil, the Bible recommends a melee weapon—the “sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:17) against Satan’s projectile-type “fiery darts” (Ephesians 6:16). This sword (the word of God) is silent, precise, and strategic. It requires getting up close and personal, rather than rushing in with guns blazing and possibly attracting more enemy attention. And, although this sword must be kept clean and sharp through regular maintenance (that is, scripture reading and study), it never requires a reload.

Finally, what about sustenance?

Food is a huge question—so big that I won’t even try to touch it here. But water—water is everything. Even with the best living space, the greatest community, the strongest defenses, and the most inexhaustible food supply, no one survives without water. And the lack of it can drive people mad with thirst.

Without water, the Hebrews in the wilderness cried out to return to slavery in Egypt, arguing that being slaves with water was better than being free people without it (Numbers 20:5).

Without water, Hagar abandoned her own son, Ishmael, in the desert because she could not bear to watch him die of thirst (Genesis 21:13-16).

Without water, Elijah became so depressed that he didn’t want to live (I Kings 19). He was also suffering from lack of food, rest, and encouragement; but water is such a basic physical need that I’m convinced the lack of it was a factor in his depression.

In the same way, water is the top priority in the zombie apocalypse. And again, there is a spiritual solution: Christ, the living water.

During the insanity and desperation of my own personal apocalypse, I was pulled every which way from thirst. I was in a spiritual desert. I wasn’t living; I was merely surviving, just trying to get by. But somehow Jesus quenched my thirst. I never asked him to do so; I never even thought to ask. But in mercy and love he got me through each day, giving me just enough hope to keep going. I see that now, but I couldn’t see it then. It is difficult to see his goodness in the midst of the apocalypse. Somehow, you just have to know that it is. That he is.

As Jesus told the woman at the well: “[W]hoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14).

We Christ-followers must continually drink of Christ himself, the living water.

So, from this post and my last one, let’s recap the conventional wisdom on how to survive the zombie apocalypse: Leave the “city” of self-sufficiency and learn to live “in the country,” depending on God every day. Join a small, close-knit community for support. Keep the sword of the Spirit sharp, clean, and ready to strike at the enemy. And above all, stay close to the source of living water, which is Christ Jesus.

I’m living proof that, if you do all of these things, when you awaken in your own personal zombie apocalypse you will get through it.

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New life in the zombie apocalypse, part 3: Abandoning self-sufficiency

Published by Daniel on November 10, 2014

The Walking Dead, a zombie show based on a serialized graphic novel, is one of the most-watched shows on TV, while other zombie books and movies continue to sell like hotcakes.

Why is the zombie genre so popular?

I think one reason is the compelling question at the heart of it: In a zombie apocalypse, what would I do? Or more specifically, excluding the suicide option, what would I do to survive?

This question faces all fictional people in zombie stories, and stirs such passionate interest in actual people that a real-life industry has grown up around it. Amazon.com sells a survival manual, and other websites offer real-life training camps on the topic. In 2011, even the History Channel aired a special (Zombies: A Living History) about outlasting a zombie takeover. The History Channel!

The question of survival can be broken down into more specific questions, such as: Where would I go? With whom would I associate? What about weapons for self-defense? And what about sustenance (food and water)?

Each of these questions has spiritual applications. Let’s tackle them one at a time.

First, where would I go?

Would I go to a city or to the country, and would I settle into a secure, well-equipped home base or stay on the move?

A city contains more scavengeable resources for greater self-sufficiency (or the illusion of it), but it also has more zombies. To get around the zombies to the resources, I’d need massive courage and ninja-like stealth – attributes rarely possessed by a guy of my size and agility. Also, in the city, there’s more danger of getting trapped in tight spaces (narrow streets, tall buildings) with no escape, whereas in the country there are fewer zombies and more escape routes. As for establishing a well-equipped home base, doing so could attract other survivors who’d kill for it; better to stay mobile.

Zombie wisdom says: Don’t follow the crowd to the cities, and don’t settle in one place. It’s safer to keep moving through open country and live off the land, even though resources might be scarce. At least, according to my sources.

In the Old Testament, the dichotomy was the same. As people built cities, they began to “follow the crowd” and develop wealth, resources, and delusions of self-sufficiency, all of which laid the foundation for many evils. Think of the people of Babel building a tower, seeking to become almost godlike: “Come, let us build ourselves a city, a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves” (Genesis 11:4). Or think of the Hebrews establishing cities in the Promised Land, then rejecting God as their leader and demanding a human king like “all the other nations” (1 Samuel 8:5).

In actuality, a city in itself is not evil. But symbolically, it is a monument to human strength. Living in a “city” (metaphorically), we can forget our dependence on God and find ourselves trapped in dangerous places, like in the delusion that we are self-sufficient.

Perhaps this is why, before the Hebrews became a nation, God led them away from the cities and toward complete dependence on him in the wilderness, where they had to trust him to provide manna every day (Exodus 16).

Personally, in the real world, I prefer books and computers to rugged outdoor life. But metaphorically, I believe that living in daily dependence on God’s provision – to me, represented in zombie literature by living off the land in remote places – is the way to go.

Second, with whom would I associate?

Would I remain a lone individualist, join a small group, or become part of a large group?

On one hand, a loner requires fewer supplies and can escape more quickly and easily—again, creating an illusion of self-sufficiency—but she has no one to watch her back or cover her blind spots. On the other hand, a large group poses logistical problems and offers little sense of true closeness. The third choice, a smallish, close-knit group, offers real interconnectedness and the best chance of survival.

Zombie wisdom says: Go with a small group. Small groups are stronger and safer than large groups or loners.

Jesus supported this model by forming a small group of disciples who knew each other intimately. He prayed that they, and we, would experience true unity (John 17), which is essential for spiritual strength.

I’m an introvert and I’m also from Montana, where personal freedom is a core value, so I tend to favor being “on my own.” When my world imploded in 2008, I just wanted to withdraw and be by myself. Thankfully, though, my church stressed the scripturally-based point that everyone, even an introvert like me, should join a home community for close relationships. So I found the nearest one and started attending. And this ragtag band of Christians surrounded me and lifted me up. They bound my spiritual wounds and defended me from further attacks of the enemy. They cared for me through prayer, encouragement, and many other forms of support. Had I stayed alone, I might still be living, but I probably would be more dead than alive. In the zombie apocalypse and in real life, living in a small, caring community is best.

So depending on human self-sufficiency, whether in a “city” or on one’s own, is not the best way to survive the zombie apocalypse. Instead, it’s better to depend on the strength of God and a few believers who know you very well.

In my next blog, I’ll wrap up the last two questions: What about weapons for self-defense? And what about sustenance (food and water)?

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Spoiler alert: Noah survives the flood

Published by Daniel on April 6, 2014

I know it’s been discussed to death, but I finally had a chance to see Darren Aronofsky’s movie “Noah.” I love the story of the Bible and I love epic movies, so I was looking forward to seeing this one.

On one hand, I enjoyed the bigness of the story. I’m a guy who enjoys good visual effects, so for me this movie was a fun – though very loose – interpretation of a familiar story. It was sort of “Genesis meets Lord of the Rings” – with giant stone people (Watchers) instead of Tolkien’s tree people (Ents). And it did agree with the Bible that the Creator sent the flood because of humanity’s great sins.

On the other hand, in this movie those sins seemed to be limited to eating animals and hoarding natural resources to build cities. The implication was that if people stopped doing those two things, the Creator might be appeased, no matter what other horrible crimes or sins they committed against him or against each other.

Also, I thought the Creator’s role was too passive. I try to seek God’s role within a story even when he is not overtly mentioned. I did see God’s intervention, but it was too subtle. For example, when facing a vast army by himself, Noah states, “I’m not alone.” That sounds like a statement of faith in God; but then the Watchers rise up around him, implying that Noah’s support comes not from the Creator but from them.

However, I appreciated Aronofsky’s and Russell Crowe’s interpretation of the man Noah. As in the Bible, this Noah is righteous, and the Creator does give him an important task. But this Noah is not a Sunday-school Dr. Doolittle who loves animals and faces the coming apocalypse with a kindly smile. Instead, he is a receiver of prophetic visions, overwhelmed by the foreknowledge of global annihilation. He foresees that there will be a rebirth of life after the flood as part of the Creator’s plan, but he also foresees the end of all life that existed before the flood. To any human, seeing such visions – and then living through their fulfilment – would be horrific.

Further, the movie is scriptural in that it shows an awareness of wickedness not only in humankind, but also in Noah and his family. According to scripture, Noah is righteous; but he is also a human, born of Adam and full of sin. So he is righteous not because he is perfect, but because God declares him so (as with Abraham – Roman 4). He is a finite man trying to wrap his mind around a divine revelation that includes the destruction of all life on earth. Who can approach such a concept without terror and dread?

I believe “Noah” shows the horror of this historic event. The divine command, the enormity of the task, and the catastrophic nature of the event must have weighed heavily on Noah’s mind. But he persevered and carried out God’s instructions, while at the same time he had to hear the desperate screams of drowning masses in his ears. Long after the waters had receded, and even after God’s new covenant and the promise of the rainbow, he must have experienced survivor’s guilt.

After all, he did get blitzed, winding up drunk and naked for his sons to see – but the Bible never explains why. How could—why would—a righteous man do that, after God spares his life and establishes a new covenant with him? For that matter, why was this tidbit even included in scripture? It seems the author just wanted to let us know that Noah got drunk. And naked. What made him strip off his clothes? Was it just to show grief, as elsewhere in the Old Testament (Genesis 37:29; 44:23; Esther 4:1)? Or perhaps the author simply wanted us to know that Noah, though righteous, wasn’t perfect.

We don’t know.

But this is one thing the movie does extremely well. Russell Crowe portrays Noah as a conflicted, flawed human who is still considered righteous by the Creator. That tension rings true to me.

So what exactly is this movie? You could say it’s just a very loose adaptation of the Bible story in that it is about a man named Noah, a big boat, and an even bigger amount of water. It goes wide in the area of poetic license, and I would have liked to see a more active Creator and a more complete definition of wickedness. But overall, I believe Aronofsky treats the story with respect.

And Russell Crowe’s portrayal of Noah as a fallen, righteous man is precisely how Christians should view the people we read about in scripture – the ones God counted as righteous. Every single one of them had faults and sins, just as we do. For them and for us, the only hope is God’s grace and redemption. I see that truth in the movie “Noah”– and I appreciate the honesty.

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