Halloween is a strange holiday. I think we all kind of know this. I’m sure there’s a completely legitimate explanation for how the traditions came about, but they sure don’t make much sense today. And lets be honest, traditions in and of themselves are kind of weird things. Especially when they entail dressing absurdly and giving away free candy (who does that, really?).

Well, we were talking about it tonight at the Halloween party I decided to attend. It’s kind of like, children start very young. Their parents take them out. They have no idea why their dressing up and have really no idea why they’re getting candy for free. In fact, for all they know, dressing up at any time and knocking on random doors would result in free candy. Good thing most parents keep a fairly tight leash on their kids.

Eventually, kids get older and look foreword to the one night a year when they can walk from door to door dressed up like something scary and they get free candy for it. Of course, that doesn’t last long. Sooner or later, kids hit the age where they learn to work the system. Cover the maximum number of doors in the minimum amount of time with the least amount of effort put into the costume. This is about the age where you stop hearing “trick or treat” when they knock on the door.

At this age though, it’s pretty much all over. Not because it stops being fun, no. It’s right about this age where kids have a profound realization: candy doesn’t cost very much. As soon as they figure this one out, it’s done. Why walk from door to door dressed like a fool for something you could buy a year supply of after mowing one lawn?

So, what’s left? Go to Halloween parties. Drink too much. Go to bed and look foreword to having your own kids and getting to start the cycle all over again.

I suppose traditions are important, right?

A friend shared this video with me this afternoon. Apparently it’s pretty popular, but I’ve never seen it. It’s a video of the 80’s group Sonseed performing their song, Jesus is a Friend of Mine. I’m uncertain of what to think. But it sure was good for a chuckle.

Enjoy.

I was reading on the Desiring God blog about the differences between Dispensational, Covenant and New Covenant Theology. It’s a conversation I’m familiar with, but not well read on and totally undecided on my own stance. I thought it might be helpful to know the viewpoint of some of the people I respect.

As I was reading, something occurred to me. People seem to see strong theological convictions as creating strong divisions in the body of Christ. I think that I disagree.

Strong theological convictions do not create strong divisions, it simply shows you all the opportunities you have to be divided. For example, when I sit in a church on a Sunday morning, having a theological belief on a given topic will cause me to know when I disagree with the person speaking. However, what I do with that disagreement is still on the table.

So perhaps the question is not so much about unity, as it is about humility. Can we humbly disagree with one another? Humbly disagree without subverting our theological beliefs?

I think so. But I’m finding that to be a major challenge as I study and learn. A good challenge, I think a challenge that is absolutely crucial for all of us, as we begin to move into decidedly more theological times in the church.

I think we’ll need to be intentional about this one.

In R.C. Sproul’s The Holiness of God, he brings attention to Isaiah’s commissioning in Isaiah 6:1-5

“I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple… the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. 5And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!"

Sproul shares an insight that is important for us not to miss when we read about Isaiah here. He says:

If ever there was a man of integrity, it was Isaiah ben Amoz. He was a whole man, a together type of a fellow. He was considered by his contemporaries as the most righteous man in the nation. He was respected as a paragon of virtue. Then he caught one sudden glimpse of a holy God. In that single moment, all of his self-esteem was shattered. In a brief second he was exposed, made naked beneath the gaze of the absolute standard of holiness. As long as Isaiah could compare himself to other mortals, he was able to sustain a lofty opinion of his own character. The instant he measured himself by the ultimate standard, he was destroyed- morally and spiritually annihilated. He was undone. He came apart. His sense of integrity collapsed.

Interestingly enough, when we have a “lofty” opinion or our own character, we not only set ourselves up for an awfully painful humbling, but we also deprive ourselves of honest joy. We have to measure ourselves rightly by the standard of God’s holiness in order to truly appreciate the work of Jesus on the cross.

In the introduction to his book, The Pleasures of God, John Piper writes:

“…we will not be enthralled by this good news unless we feel that he was not obliged to do this. He was not coerced or constrained by our value. He is the center of the gospel. The exaltation of his glory is the driving force of the gospel. The gospel is a gospel of grace!”

I think for most people, at first glance, this is a hard concept to swallow. Especially if you’re not already familiar with Piper’s writings. But it’s hard to deny, none the less. What kind of God would he be if he needed us. If the greatness of the gospel of God was somehow contingent on our value? In fact, that’s madness really.

And from there, while it’s uncomfortable to embrace the radical God centeredness of the gospel, we can’t hope to be really transformed by it unless we do. I mean, we’ve spent out entire lives looking at ourselves, with no luck. How is a man centered gospel going to help anything?

How could a man-centered gospel be considered “gospel” at all?

Beating, breathing,
pumping, flowing,
closing, opening,
accepting, rejecting,
Fighting, winning,
finding, expelling.

Organic.

These things,
they just happen.
Most of the time;
Except in the sick.

Where is the ambulance?
Who can the hospital help?

Only doctors.

At this rate, I’m going to be done with Tim Keller’s The Reason for God in no time at all. Reading today, I came across another excellent thought. But this time, I think I’ll share more of his own words.

In this passage from his book, Keller is responding to the notion that no one religion can claim the corner on the truth market. That all religions, while have some truth, don’t have all of it; in other words, all religions are correct. Not just one. He shares an analogy he hears often about three blind men and an elephant.

An elephant approaches three blind men and allows them to touch him. When asked what they elephant looked like, the first blind man, holding the elephant’s tail, said, “it’s long and thin, like a snake.” The next blind man responded, “no, it’s tall and thick, like a tree,” holding the elephant’s leg. The last blind man argued, “no, it’s large and flat,” touching the elephants side.

Keller response to this analogy by revealing it’s inherent problem.

“This illustration backfires on its users. The story is told from the point of view of someone who is not blind. How could you know that each blind man only sees part of the elephant unless you claim to be able to see the whole elephant?

‘There is an appearance of humility in the protestation that the truth is much greater than any one of us can grasp, but if this is used to invalidate all claims to discern the truth it is in fact an arrogant claim to a kind of knowledge which is superior to [all others]… We have to ask: “What is the [absolute] vantage ground from which you claim to be able to relativize all the absolute claims these different scriptures make?’ [Leslie Newbigin – The Gospel in a Pluralists Society]

How could you possibly know that no religion can see the whole truth unless you yourself have the superior, comprehensive knowledge of spiritual reality you just claimed that none of the religions have?”

To claim that no one religion has the corner on truth, is in itself a faith based claim and, in a sense, a religious one. The user of this argument is forced to either submit to the analogy themselves and so invalidate it, or accept the hypocrisy of it.

Very interesting, Tim. Very interesting indeed.