In sorting though some 20 year old files, the other day, I
found a news paper print of a popular comic strip once holding my attention in
the Sunday edition of the “comic section.” The strip chronicled the
misadventures of a boy and his stuffed tiger. This episode I happened to clip, I suppose,
because at the time it might be used for illustration purposes or
maybe as a personal reminder or for such a time as this. At any rate, I forgot about it, until the
other day in deciding what to dispose of. I remember this infamous pair was inseparable,
lingering energetically in topics both adult and childlike. One day on a walk
in the woods, six-year-old boy Calvin announces to Hobbes the tiger that he has
decided he doesn't believe in ethics anymore, because, as far as he's
concerned, "The ends justify the means." "Get what you can while
the getting is good," Calvin reasons, "Might makes right."
At this, Hobbes, who is a stuffed tiger in the eyes of all but Calvin, promptly pushes his human friend into a mud hole.
"Why'd you do that?" Calvin objects.
"You were in my way," Hobbes replies, "and now you're not. The ends justify the means."
Sitting in the mud, Calvin seems to reach a brief moment of enlightenment, until he uncovers a way to reconcile the conflict with self-interest: "I didn't mean for everyone, you dolt. Just me."
One of the more striking things to confront in each of the four Gospel accounts, besides Jesus himself, is the reactions people had to him. When in his presence, some like Mary and the man with leprosy fell instantaneously at his feet, others like the young rich ruler or the people of Nazareth turned away. In his presence some cried for mercy and others who needed a doctor were confronted with the question of whether or not they wanted to be well. In the presence of Jesus of Nazareth, choices were made, realities were challenged, worldviews were transformed.
Ironically, those deemed unrighteous and dishonorable by the social standards of the day were often the most responsive to the demands of Jesus. I have often wondered if this was because they were the ones most willing to see themselves rationally, those most willing to respond to their own inconsistencies with fear and trembling. In the presence of Christ, the paralytic at the pool of Bethesda came to see the contradictions he lived with, his unlivable beliefs, and his need for direction. The Samaritan woman at the well saw not only that Jesus was speaking truth, but that he was truth, and that his way was livable and hers was not. Called into the presence of Christ, Zacchaeus saw the depravity of his methods and the great hunger of his life for something more. Conversely, the rich young ruler walked away from Jesus's instruction because it was a request and reality that he could not face.
I remember Francis Schaeffer calling the cultural phenomenon of living unaware or unconcerned with our inconsistencies "the age of non-reason." He saw humans drifting in a sea of irrationality, willing to live with great contradictions, no longer living as though they had to be reasonable. Right now, during this present presidential campaign season I see the reality of this age of non-reason. It is unbelievable and unconceivable, to me, that so many believers are politically walking unaware or unconcerned with inconsistencies. Yet Schaeffer also contended that a person's worldview must be livable, and I’ve taken it to mean that I must be willing and able to live out the reality I profess.
As the young Calvin once said to his animated tiger, "Reality continues to ruin my life!" Finding himself in the mud, Calvin saw clearly that he could not live with the out-workings of his theory (though he proceeded to mend the belief illogically). I think I have to be both brave and intentional in confronting confront the belief systems that holds my life and shapes my way. I believe that my faith in Christ makes sense of life's most foreboding questions, and that it is livable because it is true. The older and more vulnerable I become the more I see that Christ gently unearths the dark and fatal compromises, deal making and inconsistencies of my life, calling me to consistency, to reality, to truth, to Himself.
At this, Hobbes, who is a stuffed tiger in the eyes of all but Calvin, promptly pushes his human friend into a mud hole.
"Why'd you do that?" Calvin objects.
"You were in my way," Hobbes replies, "and now you're not. The ends justify the means."
Sitting in the mud, Calvin seems to reach a brief moment of enlightenment, until he uncovers a way to reconcile the conflict with self-interest: "I didn't mean for everyone, you dolt. Just me."
One of the more striking things to confront in each of the four Gospel accounts, besides Jesus himself, is the reactions people had to him. When in his presence, some like Mary and the man with leprosy fell instantaneously at his feet, others like the young rich ruler or the people of Nazareth turned away. In his presence some cried for mercy and others who needed a doctor were confronted with the question of whether or not they wanted to be well. In the presence of Jesus of Nazareth, choices were made, realities were challenged, worldviews were transformed.
Ironically, those deemed unrighteous and dishonorable by the social standards of the day were often the most responsive to the demands of Jesus. I have often wondered if this was because they were the ones most willing to see themselves rationally, those most willing to respond to their own inconsistencies with fear and trembling. In the presence of Christ, the paralytic at the pool of Bethesda came to see the contradictions he lived with, his unlivable beliefs, and his need for direction. The Samaritan woman at the well saw not only that Jesus was speaking truth, but that he was truth, and that his way was livable and hers was not. Called into the presence of Christ, Zacchaeus saw the depravity of his methods and the great hunger of his life for something more. Conversely, the rich young ruler walked away from Jesus's instruction because it was a request and reality that he could not face.
I remember Francis Schaeffer calling the cultural phenomenon of living unaware or unconcerned with our inconsistencies "the age of non-reason." He saw humans drifting in a sea of irrationality, willing to live with great contradictions, no longer living as though they had to be reasonable. Right now, during this present presidential campaign season I see the reality of this age of non-reason. It is unbelievable and unconceivable, to me, that so many believers are politically walking unaware or unconcerned with inconsistencies. Yet Schaeffer also contended that a person's worldview must be livable, and I’ve taken it to mean that I must be willing and able to live out the reality I profess.
As the young Calvin once said to his animated tiger, "Reality continues to ruin my life!" Finding himself in the mud, Calvin saw clearly that he could not live with the out-workings of his theory (though he proceeded to mend the belief illogically). I think I have to be both brave and intentional in confronting confront the belief systems that holds my life and shapes my way. I believe that my faith in Christ makes sense of life's most foreboding questions, and that it is livable because it is true. The older and more vulnerable I become the more I see that Christ gently unearths the dark and fatal compromises, deal making and inconsistencies of my life, calling me to consistency, to reality, to truth, to Himself.
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