faith for faith

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Many times, “wrongful death” is at the root cause of a lawsuit, but what happens in the case of a “wrongful birth” charge?

In West Palm Beach, Florida, a couple sued a doctor and an ultrasound technician for negligence. The two claimed that they would have aborted their son, who was born with no arms and only one leg, had they known about his disabilities beforehand.

There’s not much more commentary that can be given on a judicial system that will award such a vast sum of money because a life was born (rather than murdered through abortion), and yet will let a man live who raped and murdered his 10-month-old stepdaughter. Imagine how you would feel if you were the child when you were old enough to comprehend that your parents preferred you to be killed, and they have a 4.5 million dollar check highlighting the intensity of that desire. Unbelievable.

It seems that the longer I live, the more the populace of this “great” country of ours resembles the judgment against humanity in Romans 1:18-32. And I’m not talking about an incident in New York City, another in San Francisco, and another in New Orleans on Mardi Gras, but I’m talking about at least two very striking incidents in Raleigh … in one day, nonetheless. First, a man who rapes and murders his 10-month-old stepdaughter somehow manages not to be condemned to death, and second, a female “pastor” declares that she will not perform any more heterosexual marriages until homosexual marriage is legal in North Carolina. Good grief.

I suppose I shouldn’t expect any different. I mean, presuming that the Bible is true, I should expect that the majority of this country’s citizens would be quick to shed blood, would desire to trade that which is natural for that which is unnatural (or at least support it), and would desire that justice not be done. And considering that we have been murdering millions of infants for decades, are infatuated with homosexuality, and are ignoring the blood of a 10-month-old child crying out from the ground, well, I say that we’ve pretty much arrived.

Because of these things, among many others, I’m not proud to be an American. In fact, I’m disgusted. And if I do, for some reason, find myself being proud to be an American, I loathe it. For I know that when all is said and done, America will be a small, rank spot of piss and blood on the fabric of history.

One thing, among many, that is different now I’ve given up big city living in Raleigh for the sake of low-budget living in Wendell is the frequency with which I run into people I know on a quick run to the grocery store. In fact, I can scarcely think of such a trip without running into at least one person I know. Couple that with my after work unwinding ritual involving a single cold beer, well, that’s a potential combination for “witness” combustion.

In fact, one of the big no-nos in the religion of the South is buying alcohol, especially in a place where you can be seen buying alcohol. Which reminds me of a joke: What’s the difference between a Baptist and a Presbyterian? A Presbyterian will say hey to you in the liquor store.

Joking aside, there is a serious reality underlying the brown-bagging / teetotaling disposition toward Christian practice in the religion of the South, and it all falls under the umbrella of “Preserving One’s Witness.” Scarcely have many bothered to define what this “witness” is, though it’s preservation could mean the salvation (or not) of one’s very soul.

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Periodically, someone like a Pat Robertson or a Harold Camping will say or claim something that is so absurd and so ridiculous that it garners the attention of the national media and sends a collective shiver down the spines of the more sane persons who call themselves Christians. Because what has been carelessly spouted out by these persons are untruths and shine a negative light on Christianity, we are disgusted, outraged, and regretful that these persons decided to choose the Christian religion as the stage on which they showcase their tendencies toward lunacy.

And I believe that it is good and right to feel a certain sort of disgust and outrage when such persons say such things. Often when they do, they skew the truth, promote falsehoods, and lead others astray in the process. But as with all areas of life, I think that the motivations behind our disgust, outrage, etc. must be tested to show whether or not they are right in and of themselves and promote the truth. For though one reacts to the negative act of one, that reaction is not necessarily positive. In fact, it is probably more often the case that the negative acts of a person inspire and produce negative acts in another.

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Take a deep breath, everyone. Contrary to Harold Camping’s reports, the Rapture and subsequent Judgment will not be happening this Saturday. This news broke when an anonymous tipper pointed authorities to a seemingly obscure passage in the Apostle Peter’s second letter. There the apostle wrote:

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed (2Pet. 3:10).

This passage seems to suggest, contrary to the hoopla surrounding Camping’s prediction, that the Day of the Lord (i.e. Judgment and the End) will come like a “thief in the night.” Through an intensive investigation of the practices of past nocturnal bandits, it has been determined that the typical night thief does not announce his intentions prior to his thievery, neither does he give clues encrypted in apocryphal literature. No, he simply comes unannounced and thus unexpectedly.

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A name is a loaded thing. It gives one description, a moniker, categories, and a sense of belonging. It also permits social interaction, structure, and order. Names are a fundamental element of human existence. But what does one do if a name no longer correctly describes him, or if the meaning the name portrays has changed over time, or if that name has become so broad that it encompasses those with whom one would never associate?

These are some of the questions I have been asking myself for years regarding the “Baptist” title. Baptist is one of those names that has become so broad and has developed so many connotations that it is hardly helpful as a name any more. Generally, the Baptist name encompasses almost anyone who professes Christ who does not hold to infant baptism. Apart from that, one can be Calvinistic or Arminian in his soteriology, covenantal, dispensational, etc., in his view of the New Covenant, charismatic or cessationist with regard to the gifts of the Spirit, congregational or elder-ruled with regard to ecclesiology, etc., etc., etc. In other words, the only thing that holds Baptists together is the dryness of their infants.

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For everyone who has wondered about life after death, wonder no longer. Stephen Hawking, astrophysicist and self-professed genius (of the Wile E. Coyote type), has formally declared that “Heaven is a fairy story.” While it is difficult to question the genius of such a man as Stephen Hawking (especially since his paraplegia gives him a certain sixth sense of knowing everything), just how did he come to such a conclusion? Usually when someone makes a claim about the afterlife they usually have discovered it in a religious book, in a near-death experience, or something. Hawking? Well, it just sort of naturally flows from his general repugnance of religion and the thought of God.

Enough of Hawking, but this view seems to be the view of the majority of astrophysicists apart from him. I enjoy watching the History Channel’s show, “The Universe,” but sometimes I just get disgusted by the presumption that holds the whole “science” together. These men and women talk with such certainly about cosmic events that happened millions and billions of years ago as though they found the journal of someone or something that live at that time. Amazing how there is such certainly about unrecorded history and so much skepticism about recorded history two-thousand years ago, but I digress.

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I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your rational service (Rm. 12:1).

Seemingly, we are instructed from our births that the only way by which we will find true fulfillment in our lives is by becoming someone who is great and laudable—someone who is esteem-able. Implanted in our young minds are the society’s virtues of self-esteem and self-aggrandizement, wherein countless sources from parents to teachers, preachers to presidents, cheer us on to be anything that we desire to be, as long as we put our minds and our energies into it. We are inspired to dream dreams, to reach for the pinnacles of human existence, and to loathe whatever evil thoughts might step in our way that tell us, “You’re not good enough, you’re not smart enough, and dag-gone-it, people don’t like you.”

We are taught to become our own cheerleaders and our own advocates to society, and the only thing that holds us back from making our dreams realities is our own lack of positive thinking. And granting the short span of our lives and our preoccupation with them, our dreams nearly all consist of becoming well-to-do, staying healthy, and securing our future by investments so that we will not have the spend the entirety of our days toiling under the sun.

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Well, it was presumptuous of me to think that the whole Ergun Caner debacle would have come to a halt after the overwhelming influx of data concerning his imaginary childhood that was used to elevate his name after 9/11 and the consequent damning demotion of him from the president of Liberty University’s seminary to whatever he is now.
Well, against all odds, he’s back, and from what I can tell, he’s the same man that he was prior to his demotion minus the title of seminary president. My latest glimpse of that other lying Southern Baptist (other than Bill Clinton, that is) came in his address to the “Voter’s Value Summit,” which was broadcasted nationally on C-SPAN, which you can imagine, consisted of a group of conservative, political types who would have made the late Jerry Falwell proud.

And this is to say nothing of conservative politics, because if you were to prick me, you would likely find that my tendency is toward the more conservative of the political scale. What it is to say is that a politician is a politician, a Christian politician is a politician, and the political battle, insofar as this country is concerned, has always been an “ends justify the means” battle. The battle has always been to win the hearts of the voters, and if that means contradicting one’s self, letting moral ambiguity slide, attacking opponents on matters that they fall short on themselves, well, the more the merrier.

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