Faith, science, academic cred, and other things keeping us from learning from one another

Occasionally, I touch on the dialogue, discussion, and debate surrounding science and faith, but that probably underscores how much time I spend thinking about it. It really is at the crux of what I enjoy reading and pondering on long, cold Minnesota days. This has come across in a couple of my posts in the last year--most notably on the subject of monarchs and the questions of how versus why and in a piece on the my confirmation students' polarization on the question of scripture and evolution--but I have written far more on other subjects during that time, and I suppose it's mostly because I have a hard time putting words to the problem. The language available to discuss the relationship between faith and science is narrow and generally unhelpful, so I continue to ponder how it is that we go on from here.

from http://www.universetoday.com/74724/where-are-stars-born/

However, there comes a point when one must say something in an attempt to approach some kind of more expansive truth. So this is my newest attempt, borne out of a confirmation discussion I will be having with our ninth-graders today. This is neither comprehensive nor final; it is only a drop in the ocean of a question that is many-layered and breeds more contempt between parties than is necessary or prudent. I still believe that people of faith and people of science need each other in this messed-up world--even if their respective philosophies do not. Here's why:

Sports and the Sabbath

Today in Confirmation the ninth-graders and I will be discussing faith and sports, which is one of those intersections that is particularly strange in this American culture of ours. We're OK with professional athletes attributing their achievements to God, fans touting John 3:16 in the stands, and prayers on the sidelines and before games, but then we also have no problem with these same sporting events taking place on Sundays or Saturdays or whatever day we celebrate as apart and holy. What gives?

At least part of the answer for this strange dichotomy is the minimization of importance we place on Sabbath-taking, and this is exactly why we are talking about faith and sports in Confirmation; it allows us to enter into the 3rd commandment: Honor the Sabbath and keep it holy.

Grain and Chaff, Sinners and Saints

Text: Luke 3:15-22

            Of the four Gospels we have telling us of Jesus’ life, Luke is the one you would be most likely to read as a bedtime story. There aren’t the demons of Mark; there isn’t the slaughter of the innocent children of Matthew, there isn’t the constant hand-wringing and “fear of the Jews” we find in John. None of the Gospels are cuddly, but if there’s one that seems closest to “Minnesota nice” it is the Gospel of Luke. So, when Luke says something that appears to be judgmental and harsh we should take pause. These are a few moments when Luke is decidedly not “Minnesota nice,” moments where we are called to remember what was at stake and that these aren’t just nice stories. This Gospel is far more important than that.

            Epiphany is the day in the church calendar where we celebrate the revelation of Jesus as God’s Son—usually it’s with a star that some kings follow to Bethlehem. This year, however, we’re in Luke and the revelation comes in just a couple verses when the Holy Spirit descends on him in baptism. In that moment, Jesus was shown to be more than just another human being; the rumors and the prophecies were finally put to rest. Jesus was the Son of God. For Luke, there could be nothing more important, but Luke is also concerned about what the son of God is going to come and do. You have to remember that people expected the messiah to come as a king and rule over the nations. They expected a military ruler—one who would overthrow the Roman Empire and restore the Jewish people to power they hadn’t known in centuries. Jesus did not live up to those expectations. The people needed to know what it meant for the son of God to come and live in their midst; it wasn’t what they were expecting.

Simeon's Apocalypse: A Glimpse of the Baby Jesus

Text: Luke 2:21-38

            This sermon was not supposed to happen. I mean, it’s Sunday and all so I get how this works. Once every seven days I’m supposed to and say things from a pulpit, but this time it was in doubt. I don’t know how much each of you heard, but the world was supposed to end on December 21 like the Mayans predicted; it was as sure a thing as a Vikings season ending with disappointment. And never mind that the end of the Mayan calendar had much more to do with their understanding of the renewal of creation than with an apocalypse; that’s not nearly as good of a story. The world was supposed to end on December 21. I read it in Newsweek.

            Honestly, I was wondering why the malls were so busy in the lead-up to Christmas. Apparently, nobody told those people that Christmas was not coming; instead, we were going to have fire and brimstone and the four horsemen of the apocalypse and all of that jazz. Anyway, you can imagine my shock when the 21^st came and passed and here we still are and here is this sermon being preached. I claim false advertising.

On Shepherds (and our ignorance of simplicity)

Text: Luke 2:1-20

            You don’t hear much about shepherds anymore. I mean, I don’t know anybody who went to shepherding school or wrote that grade-school essay on what they wanted to be when they grew up and chose to be a shepherd. Nobody’s parents—that I know of—are pushing their kids into the shepherding vocation, and anyway, shepherds aren’t exactly high in terms of earning potential. Even if you really wanted to be a shepherd it is hard work to find, and even if you did somehow become a shepherd it’s not exactly the kind of profession that stirs up Christmas-time conversation around the dinner table. 
            “What do you do?”
            “I’m a shepherd.”
            “Oh yeah? What does that entail?”
            “Watching sheep.”
            “I see… can you pass me the chicken?”

Mary's Song and the False Pursuit of Happiness

Text: Luke 1:39-56

            In the year 1689, John Locke wrote his “Two Treatises of Government” which included a line that said that the government’s obligation was to protect “life, liberty and estate.” Other sources since have tweaked the phrase, such as the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments to the U.S. Constitution which declare that governments cannot deprive any person of “life, liberty, or property” and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which reads, “Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person.” However, by far the most well-known adaptation of Locke’s words is Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence, which says, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Why do we want the end of the world?

So, I woke up this morning and the world was still spinning. Funny. I really thought the Mayans had this one, just like Harold Camping last May and every other would-be prophet of doom and destruction. It's the same refrain again and again: "Things are so messed up... we clearly must be nearing the end of the world!" they say. Funny, again, because reality suggests something else. If we're looking for the worst of all possible times, history is unlikely to side with the 21st century. Remember the Inquisition, the Black Death, the European wars of the middle ages, Civil Wars in America, France and other places, World War I, World War II and the Shoah. I mean, if we truly think things are worse now than under Hitler and Stalin then we need to gain some serious perspective.

Anyway, what is much more interesting than calculating how bad things have gotten and picking a date for God to end it all is why we would want the end of the world in the first place. Of course, most would-be prophets won't admit it, but that is really what's at work here: they want the end of the world. I suppose if you were to tease it out, these Christians (and people of other faiths as well, but let's be honest it's mostly Christians) are desperate for the apocalypse because it will usher in the reign of Christ. On the surface that makes sense. The world is a messy place. It would be much easier if we could just skip this business of living down here and fast-forward to the fully realized Kingdom of God. I get that.