What Kind of Love?

What kind of love did this man have, that he would go down to the end of the road, every day, and watch for the son who had scorned his love and provision? What kind of love compels someone to wait patiently, even when love isn’t reciprocated, on the outside chance that someday, they will return?

Depending on the day, the father probably started doubting himself. “What did I do?” he must have asked, or perhaps “What did I say that drove my son to leave me this way?”

Can you imagine how, with each passing day, he might have been more and more discouraged? Did he ask about his son in town, or pester his son’s friends about his whereabouts? Did he go roaming through the countryside, searching high and low? Was he endlessly chasing after his son, never truly letting him go? Perhaps the father had an even greater love than that.

What if the father loved the son so much, that he hoped for the son to find the desire of his heart, no matter what that might be? Is it possible that the father loved the son enough to say “goodbye,” knowing that the son’s pursuit of his dream might never lead him home? What if the son said, “I never want to hear from you, ever again.” Did he love his son enough to honor the desire of his son’s heart this way?

With no way to know if his son was alive or dead, the father did the only thing he knew to do: wait.

Prodigal People

It’s been my experience that most of us have “prodigal people” in our lives. Sometimes, they “go to a far country” without leaving our house. Sometimes, they spurn our affection and provision. Sometimes, they must say “goodbye” to us in some way, so they can pursue the desire of their heart.

How will you respond? Will you arrogantly and smugly give them up for dead? Will you hope for them to suffer, and come crawling back to your door? Will you sit and dwell on the many ways of saying “I told you so” or something similarly caustic, should they ever darken your door?

(By no means am I suggesting that we should martyr ourselves for those we love, and let them be abusive toward us. Those we love clearly must understand that words and actions have consequences, even in the midst of love. Those consequences, however, should not include witholding love.)

What then, from their perspective, would they expect to hear upon their return? Based on how you’ve behaved in the past, would they expect to be welcomed home, as the father welcomed his long, lost son? Or, will they expect to hear indignant, selfish words (however justified) of your pain?

Selfish or Selfless?

What if they are unsure? What if, as they approach the house (metaphorically speaking), they are too frightened to walk up to the front door and knock? Is it possible that the only way they will summon the courage to “come home” is if they see you, standing at the end of the road, waiting for them?

It’s true that if you do this, you may wait forever, and feel the emptiness of uncertainty. But then, who wants to be loved with a love that risks nothing? Who wants a love that costs nothing? Wouldn’t each of us, if we are wearing the Prodigal’s shoes, want to be loved with a love that waits patiently, forever? Wouldn’t each of us want to be loved with a love that selflessly sends us off to pursue what we desire, instead of selfishly holding onto us for themselves?

Stand. Watch. Wait.

Forever.

At the time of this writing, most voters in the United States who are going to cast a ballot have probably made up their minds who they’re going to vote for in the Presidential race. In my case, my work was going to take me out of town for Election Day (today), so I cast an absentee ballot last week. (No, I’m not going to reveal who I voted for. You’re free to make assumptions and guesses, but one of my favorite aspects of the voting process is its anonymity and privacy.)

As the title suggests, this post concerns the campaign of Arizona Senator John McCain, the Republican candidate for President. Being the representative of the Republican Party, the expectation in the US is that he will be supported by social and theological conservatives, generally known here as “the Right.”

In recent days, I’ve started to notice that Senator McCain’s campaign is starting to take on some of the attributes of lesser-known elements of those on the theological Right, both in tone and substance. As a registered Republican, I’m not particularly happy or comfortable with this development.

Negative Campaigning

Like a lot of people in the US, I have a distinct distaste for negative campaigning. At the same time, I’ve grown so accustomed to it, it doesn’t surprise me anymore, and tends to just become background noise when I hear it. It frustrates and turns me off, regardless of who’s doing it–even “my” candidate.

Unfortunately, those of us in the tech industry are all-too-familiar with negative campaigns. Here, we tend to summarize it by it’s most common traits: Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt (commonly called “FUD”). Although generally associated with Microsoft in some of its early “campaigns” against rivals, it’s commonplace for many technology companies. The basic idea behind a good FUD campaign goes like this:

First and foremost, you should fear a solution from my competitor. Although they may be good people, their solution to the problem at hand has many negative outcomes that you should associate with them, even if those associations are almost impossible to prove. For my FUD approach to gain any traction, I have to cause you to accept that there are valid reasons for you to fear the opposition.

Second, you should feel a certain level of uncertainty about my competitor. Perhaps they are not as well-established as I am, or they have demonstrated some recent blunders in strategy. Uncertainty, by itself, would probably not sway you, but when I create a bit of this to go along with your fears, I’m creating an overall uneasiness that can be very effective.

Lastly, with the mood of suspicion that you’re developing, I can cast doubt over many things that without the fear and uncertainty, you’d have no reason to doubt. For example, I can look at recent announcements from the competition, and tell you “Knowing what you know now (from my recent revelations that created fear and uncertainty), can you believe that they are actually going to deliver on what they’ve promised?”

With FUD, I have set the stage for you to look for a better solution, almost entirely by discrediting what has already been presented. The best part of this is, I may be able to do this, even if I don’t have something better to offer, or have any offering at all.

FUD campaigns, ultimately, take many of the traditional debating techniques and approaches (Poisoning the Well, the Slippery Slope, the False Dilemma, and so on), and combining them in an effective whole. Why would I do this? I do so, because of the notion of elevating myself, by way of demoting others.

“Religious” Wars in Tech

In technology, there’s no shortage of case studies for FUD both ways. In recent years, the Mac vs PC/Windows dialog has degraded into a comedy of one-upmanship. For years, people assumed that Microsoft was the “king of FUD.” However, anyone who’s seen any of Apple’s Mac/PC ads would have to agree that the commercials concerning Vista have been largely (if not entirely) a FUD campaign.

Other examples would include the language wars of C++ vs Visual Basic, Nokia N95 vs iPhone, and the always-entertaining iPod vs anythingbutipod.com. In each case, you can frequently find a FUD campaign, and it generally seems to come from the side that doesn’t have the leading position (if not in marketshare, in public perception).

Old-Time Religion and “Angry Christians”

Having grown up in church, I have a fair amount of familiarity with different preaching styles. One style that has been “out of vogue” for some time now is the “hellfire and damnation” sermon. This sermon doesn’t attempt to persuade you to a point of faith by suggesting that God’s ultimate plan for your life is an “everlasting life” that begins today. No, this sermon persuades you that the eternal pain of Hell is so great and so horrible, that any reasonable person would choose Heaven (and any path that might lead to Heaven) instead.

On the plus side, a hellfire and damnation sermon doesn’t display the (apparently) naive nature of the “pie in the sky, by and by” Christian who seems to be the scorn of non-theists everywhere, who smiles about “God’s perfect plan,” apparently unaware of what may be going on around them. In contrast, the hellfire and damnation sermon seems to suggest that not only are you sinful trash, but you’re so trashy that even Satan himself might be disgusted with you, and might have something particularly nasty in store for you.

Having heard one such sermon, an Atheist friend of mine asked, “Why do the saved seem to take joy in hearing about the damnation of the lost?” It’s a valid question, and one that makes me glad that the hellfire and damnation style has gone by the wayside. (I’m not debating or critiquing the validity of any theology that may be presented in such a sermon. I’m criticizing the style of presenting the holy argument solely in the style of a FUD campaign.) It should come as no surprise that avoiding the hellfire and damnation style causes many pastors to be criticized for “softball” sermons.

Questions for McCain

All of this leads me to have some questions for the campaign of Senator McCain:

• Does a negative campaign signal that you have nothing positive to say? When I listen to Senator Obama’s campaign, I hear him criticizing your plans, your record, and your approach, but when I hear you, I see and hear mostly criticism of the man.
• Does the demonstrated inflexibility and adamant conviction of your supporters encourage discussion and change,  or does it only promote alienation, polarization, and stratification of the electorate?

Questions for Christians, Conservatives, and Liberals

Finally, all of this has me looking inward as well, and asking questions of a wider group:

• Are Christians being fair to expect non-Christians to consider an opposing view, when they are generally unwilling to do so? I’ve asked this question a few times recently, and the response I’ve found is… underwhelming, to say the least.
• Is either side (Conservative or Liberal) being fair to expect those from the other side to consider an opposing view when they are generally unwilling to do so?

Later today, we should have an idea of how effective the Republican Party’s FUD campaign has been in convincing voters in the US to support “anythingbutobama.” It remains to be seen whether, as a nation, we’re destined to continue shouting at each other, and growing more and more polarized in our views, even as we complain about the inflexibility and stubborness of the other side.

“I would say endorsement is a strong word,” he said. “I’m planning to make a recommendation. I’m going to evaluate each candidate’s positions in light of Scripture and make a recommendation to my congregation as to which candidate aligns more so.”

Let me be clear. I have no problem with anyone publicly endorsing a candidate for any office, and doing everything in their power to influence others to support that candidate.

Jumping the Shark from the Pulpit

My first problem is someone wanting all the benefits that come with being a 501(3)(c), but also wanting to be a political entity. The purpose of the existing law was to ensure that political influence didn’t make its way through the financial channels of a charitable organization. Granted, you can argue that even with the existing law, a huge number of organizations, both on the left and the right, have successfully circumvented this law. That hardly suggests that preachers should take advantage of that fact.

The Larger Problem

My second problem is with the way that preachers have (historically) assessed candidate positions. Very rarely, if ever, does a preacher truly look at the breadth of a candidate’s career and official positions on various matters and then elucidate all the various ways in which Candidate A might meet some scriptural litmus test but Candidate B does not. Instead, they grab for a particular element of a candidate’s platform, and then ignore any evidence that might suggest that the candidate is less than Billy Graham or Mother Theresa.

For example, how would one judge Senator McCain “according to scripture”? Do you use the standard that the New Testament provides for deacons, and then say “Well, he’s not the husband of one wife, because this is his second marriage”? Given that a deacon is considered a “sub-shepherd” within a flock, shouldn’t we hold Presidential candidates to a similarly high standard? Likewise, do we look at Governor Palin’s family with the same scrutiny that we would examine a potential preacher or deacon? Certainly Senator Obama’s position on abortion is going to go against the grain for conservative Christians. What of the rhetoric that has been forthcoming from his church? What of Senator Biden?

Get Carter?

I dare say that few, if any, Southern Baptist churches would look at the positions of either Presidential candidate and suggest (with a straight face) that they meet the New Testament qualifications for a deacon. The only problem there is, anyone who would meet such qualifications and also desire to hold the highest office in our country runs the risk of being largely ineffective, as evidenced by the term of President Carter. President Carter aligned more closely with my theology than possibly any other in the history of our nation. Unfortunately, any number of less-theologically-sound presidents (both Republican and Democrat) have been better leaders for our country.

Christians would have done better to have examined President Carter’s qualifications outside of his theology. Can he work in a bipartisan way in the mess that is Washington, D.C.? Does he have the ability (or disability, depending on your perspective) to reach compromise solutions?

The Proof of the Text is in the… Preaching?

To close, here’s a word to all the preachers out there waiting anxiously to push your congregations toward one candidate or another (either explicitly, or by the power of suggestion and association). If you’re going to use scripture to determine who your flock should support, make sure you haven’t already made up your mind before you begin the examination. As a former pastor of mine used to say, “a text without a context is a pretext to a proof-text.”

If you’re going to go that route, just be honest with everyone about what you’re doing, and leave your Bible in the cushy chair before you step into the pulpit. For prooftexting the scriptural soundness of your favorite candidate, you won’t need it.

It will just slow you down.

What if, instead, we turned the process upside-down, and built a church in reverse? What would that look like?

“Tradition… Tradition!”
(Yes, you’re supposed to sing that heading to yourself, with a thick Russian accent, and in a mid-baritone, Tevye voice. Trust me.)

Let’s first consider the traditional steps of building a church, roughly defined as:

1. Buy/build a sanctuary of some kind
2. Buy/build educational space
3. Upgrade sanctuary for more space
4. Add facility for children’s classes
5. Add meal/fellowship area
6. Expansion of above
7. Add recreation space

Somewhere along the way, we realize that the buildings are almost always under-utilized (lots of action on Sunday, but almost nothing during the week), so we start looking for ways to “repurpose our space.” This typically involves trying to build community programs like day care, men’s basketball leagues, and so on.

Pineapple Upside-Down Church
What if, instead, the people who are starting a church (who say that they love the community, their neighbors, people they haven’t met, etc.), instead did the following:

1. Built a community recreation center, open to anyone
2. Added a low-cost/no-cost day care, open to anyone
3. Started literacy programs to help at-risk kids in school
4. Created/promoted programs for secular activities (theater, sports, etc)
5. Found ways to re-purpose these community facilities for “church stuff” as necessary, but without intruding upon established programs/activities (that is, when they’re not otherwise being used by the community for other stuff)

What would happen? What would happen if a bunch of “church people” discarded the many habits and behaviors that tell the world “we’re really just a different kind of social club,” and really started looking for ways to love the world around them?

What would happen, if the most vocal critics of “the church,” had much less to criticize, and were clearly welcomed into a place that had been built to serve them? Jesus didn’t wait for people to love and accept him before he served them, healed them, or helped them.

Why should we?

vs

In its defense, the NFL said:

…we are consistent in refusing the use of our game broadcasts in connection with events that promote a message, no matter the content

Interestingly, the NFL is perfectly tolerant of actions by its players that promote various messages, such as spouse abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, theft, and a variety of other criminal behavior. However, as with Reggie Bush’s unbelievable choice of cleats, they draw the line at churches using the publicly stated Christian faith of Tony Dungy (Colts’ head coach) and Lovie Smith (Bears’ head coach) to do anything that might promote a message other than what the NFL clearly stands for.

Notable are the additional comments and explanations given by the league for allowing sports bars to air the game on large screens, but not “mass out-of-home” viewings:

We have contracts with our (TV) networks to provide free over-the-air television for people at home,… The network economics are based on television ratings and at-home viewing. Out-of-home viewing is not measured by Nielsen.

I wonder, if I had paid $2,400,000 for a 30-second spot in tonight’s game, would I feel good about the market that the NFL has just said “no” to? Do the advertisers care if the NFL is effectively saying “watching the game in a bar where you’ll probably drink too much and drive home drunk is preferable to watching the game in a sanctuary or church dining hall, and sending the viewers out to feed the poor”?

Sadly, the advertisers probably don’t care either.

Note: The use of the tags “Football” and “stupidity” in the creation of this blog is not coincidental.

Call Your Broker
Later in the discussion, we were talking about how first Abraham, the the Scribes & Phrarisees, then Constantine and the early church, the Catholic church, and recently Protestants have tried to “Broker God.”

“Hi! I’m Tim, and I’ll be your God broker. You want to know what God says, just ask me! I’m your exclusive channel to God, 24 hours a day!”

It occurred to me that this is the role that radio stations and record companies have played in the music industry. They preview what’s available, decide what’s good, and then broadcast it. If they don’t like it, it doesn’t get played. Interestingly, the Baptist theology of “Priesthood of the Believer” runs counter to the notion of brokering God. That hasn’t kept us (Baptists) from getting in on the fun.

DRM: Deity Rights Management
In sharp contrast, indie labels find artists that wouldn’t get airplay, and now push them out through non-traditional channels like iTunes, YouTube, and viral marketing. What does this mean for the church? Well, it appears (from looking at history) that God won’t be brokered, so does that mean He’s going to “go indie”? What are the channels that God will use (GodTube or HeTunes)? How will His content spill out into the world? How should/could/can the modern play a role in that?

Or, will the church (as it exists today) be left hanging, fighting tooth and nail for relevance, while the world moves on (and not necessarily away from God), screaming “YOU NEED US”? What comes next?

Oh, sure. I know an “approximate” value: 3.1415926535. I know that from memory. But I have to confess that I don’t know the exact value.

Relative Knowledge
In science, most things are exact. I suppose this is why Pi sets on edge, the teeth of any serious student of math at one point or another in their careers.

I suppose the most frustrating thing about Pi is, you can get pretty close, without a lot of education. My oldest son, when he was in pre-school, once guessed “pi” when the teacher asked how many jelly beans were in the jar. The other kids laughed and said “That’s not a number!”

My 5 year-old son quickly responded “Yes it is. It’s more than three but not four.” (An exasperated teacher was then left the interesting chore of teaching fractional numbers to a handful of confused preschoolers.) My son was wrong about the number of jelly beans (it was several hundred), but he had already developed a basic understanding of Pi.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know the true value of Pi, and he still doesn’t. Have I failed him as a father because I don’t know it either?

Pi, Any Way You Slice It
Most children are introduced to Pi as “3.14.” In school, I determined to get a bit more exact, and learn it to ten decimal places. Unfortunately, in the black and white of math, neither of those answers are strictly correct.

At the tender age of 5, my son was able to wrap his brain around the notion of fractional values. (My example was “You have three apples, and then I give you part of another. Do you have four apples yet? Do you have more than three?”). Now a freshman in college, he has a much deeper understanding of numbers and math, but he still has much to learn. When I look at research that documents thousands of digits of this confounding number, I realize that I have much to learn too.

Interestingly, there are people who have devoted their careers to studying Pi. They develop exotic proofs, study and learn ways to understand more and more clearly exactly what Pi is. There are countless web sites devoted to the search for the exact value of Pi, but as far as I can determine, none of them have it… yet.

Clearly, the simple logic of geometry suggests that there is, in fact, one and only one “true” value of Pi. We can pretend that it’s 3.14 or 3.1415926535, but we will be wrong. We can claim the moral high ground of our value being “true for me,” but that doesn’t make it true in all cases, everywhere, for everyone.

Only the true value of Pi (the value that, to this day, remains unknown), is always true, everywhere. To suggest otherwise is to be ridiculous.

Knowing the Unknowable
However, until the actual value is known and proven, people of various educational levels can engage in debates over this, sometimes expending huge amounts of energy in the process, and frequently accomplishing very little. Such is the case with subjects that we “split hairs” over.

At this stage, some scientists have abandoned their personal search for the “true” value of Pi, and are left to deal with the unsatisfying sense of there being a truth, out in the distance somewhere, that they cannot yet grasp or know or understand. How incredibly frustrating.

Interesting isn’t it, how closely this parallels the search for theological truth? The endless frustration of feeling that you’ve almost got it, and then finding out that you’re nowhere near knowing everything that there is to know, and that the “mind of God” seems to extend on to several more decimal places than you imagined. It seems so simple at first, and then you realize that what you “knew” and what you understood as “the truth” is merely an approximation, and that God has an infinitely rich and non-repeating pattern out there for you to discover.

Someday (though not, scripture says, in this life), I will see face to face, and know as I am known. Someday (though not, scientists say, anytime soon), I may see the exact value of Pi, and not just an approximation. Until then, I’ll just have to learn to live with the unknown, tell people the “best approximation” of the truth that my brain is currently able to comprehend, and hope for the day of complete understanding.

Reading the comments reminded me that when I bump across people who feel they have it all figured out, that they’ve definitively answered every possible question about a creator or no creator (and I’m not suggesting that this applies to Tiffany, or any of the commentors on her blog entry), regardless of their educational background or religious affiliation (or non-affiliation), I smile. My smile is not the smug smile of someone who knows more, smiling at the cuteness of those less wise than me. It’s a smile that says “maybe someday I’ll have it figured out like you apparently do, but I’m not there yet.”

Recently, another friend of mine recently said to me, “Tim, if you don’t have questions… if you’ve got it all figured out, your god isn’t big enough.” It seems to me that we all have gods, whether we use a big “G” or a little “g,” and whether we have one, or many. We just choose different things, and sometimes ascribe to them different powers, authority, and ability, but ultimately, they all sound like gods to me.

Oddly enough, the “other friend” I mentioned above is also the senior pastor of my church. Weird thing for a Southern Baptist minister to say, huh?