The Theory of Gravity

I, am so tired.

I should really be in bed, resting for a rather long day tomorrow.  And yet here I am.  Keeping a promise to you.  Doing something that helps me in my walk.  And doing something else.

See the thing is, I got up at 4:45 this morning.  It wasn’t an intentional thing, for certain, but there it was.  I tried to go back to sleep, but as I lay there I found myself in a conversation with God.  I’d quickly come to think I was awake because of Him, and so was wanting confirmation/a sense of why I was missing another hour and a half of sleep.  Considering that the rest of the day was quite filled and busy, with a general absence of naps, and I think I’m nicely coherent for 21 hrs running.

Wednesday went rather well, or so I was told.  I enjoyed it, though I could certainly sense some at-hand objection to my method of ordering the Wesleyan Quadrilateral, and therefore Outler’s, Wesleys’, and most of the famous historical Christian figures’ ordering.  While I certainly expected such resistance, and was rather pleased with how it played out, I think I’m well justified in regretting that their positions were generally rather defensive, and certainly arguments I’ve heard a number of times.  Kind of reminded me why theological discussion is confined to certain levels of education/experience.  I feel like I understand, at least in part, why Luther tried to keep his complaints behind closed doors.  Because questions like, “wait, what is the Sermon on the Mount?” tend to slow down progress on whether or not dispensationalism accurately accounts for the character of God.  (it does not, btw)

So then this morning I woke up far too early, and found myself rather excited that I’d be able to get in some private worship, seeing as its been a while since I’ve done so.  But first I went outside to help my brother get ready for the second free track day on the Nashville Speedway Road Coarse, where I put in time yesterday morning helping an old friend test a car.

As an aside, I could really use a massage.  I went to the gym two days in a row (Wed and Thurs) which combined with a pretty heavy body resistance workout regimen and a pretty silly mistake during a sparring match has led to some strained muscles in my right mid-lower back.  Anyone?

After helping my brother I came inside and finally spent some good time with Big J.  Normal routine, some worship music, reading the Letter, and a little prayer (speaking and listening).  But, it’d been so long.  It was absolutely wonderful, and I plan on making that a more regular habit again.

So now we come to a theme I’ve noticed since Wednesday, or perhaps before then.  It seems to be some strand of denial, sometimes to the point of belligerence.  Now when I say denial, understand that also encompasses, or at least can encompass, elements of fear and placation.

Though it may have easily begun beforehand (depending on one’s understanding of my discussions with Jenn) it really came about there on Wednesday night.  its the frustration of knowing you’ve stated a well reasoned and solid case, of which you covered every angle you could conceive or encounter with the time and format available, and yet still you can feel people just naturally disagreeing with you.  Because they don’t like what you say.  Which is the essential truth.  We do not come to Christ asking Him to mold Himself and His kingdom to us.  To our thoughts and theology.  To our politics and morals.  To our behaviors and instincts.  To our broken and fallen nature.  Rather we come to Him saying, “All is laid at your feet my King.  Make me righteous.”

It reminds me of the story of Kevin Roose.  Roose had a book published not long ago called “The Unlikely Disciple” which is a clever though ultimately slightly misleading title.  Roose was a fairly staunch liberal and atheist student of Brown University who decided to spend a semester studying abroad.  At Liberty.  The book is a good read with many great moments/points, but one of my favorite things is that at then end Roose talks about why he still doesn’t consider himself a Christian.  He mentions that he simply can’t buy into things he still objects to, and in doing so mentions his two gay aunts as a reference to not being able to reject homosexuality.  While I feel sorrow at Roose’s rejection of the far more essential truth, I cannot help but admire something he understands, or rather potentially embodies, that most Christ followers do not.  He understands that faith should, in a sense, be taken very seriously.  That all previous attachments must be laid upon the alter.  It is less oft cited part of 2 Corinthians 5:17.  For the new to come, the old must go.
The premise was easy: experience is fallible, tradition is flawed, and reason is but a tool.  While Scripture remains supreme, eternal, and constantly reflected as true.

Yet there I was.  Exactly as I’d expected.  Not upset, not feeling weighed down or defeated.  Just feeling . . . like I’d laid a portion of my weight upon the table, and people had found it intruding.  Just a little sad.
And over the next few days there was a strand of this I’ll come back to in a few minutes, but then it came again today.  As I was doing the iCampus this morning, I encountered a few small, but significant events furthering this feeling.  Which all involved elements of obstinacy or avoidance.

Following this was a “to-the-car” conversation with a guy who was at CAKE on Wednesday.  He had joked just a few minutes prior about me being wrong.  As we walked he said he was just kidding and that everyone was right, because everyone was entitled to their opinion.

This is me surprisingly not rolling my eyes.  Thank you love of Jesus enabling truth.

“People are entitled to their opinions,” I responded.  “And polite discourse on the differences.  But that doesn’t make them right.  It’s very simple.  If you say everyone is right, and I say I am, and you aren’t, your position is immediately bogus.  Those positions are mutually exclusive.”

And he just went on.  Like I hadn’t said a thing.  Changed the conversation.  Moved along.  ::sigh::

But there is no better way to framer the argument.  God, the Bible, the very concept of logic assert absolute truth.  God, through the Bible, expresses the desire for the faithful to understand that truth, which is ultimately Him.  And His nature, and all that He desires for us to know of Him.  Avoiding those discussions is in the end rather cowardly, and unChristlike.  No better than belligerent authoritarian assertion of the possible positions.
Can our love for each other not withstand disagreement?  Can our devotion to God not withstand a truth with which we disagree?  Or have we become so misguided as to think we can love God without knowing Him?
I refuse to buy that.  God is perfect and eternal, which separately and together point together consistency.  And we wants us to love Him, requiring knowledge of Him, which means such a thing is attainable.  Meaning there is static truth that is learnable.  And I can’t really think of a better place to find such things than the sweet love letter He wrote us.

Follow up post completing the thought and giving some other info.  What a great day.