Category Archives: Religious Musings

Why I Am A Christian

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I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronising nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. … Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God. – C.S. Lewis; Mere Christianity

I grew up in a Christian environment, my parents were active in church, my dad a preacher, my aunts and uncles all leaders and teachers in the church. We went to church many times a week, I’ve been involved one way or the other, a part of the Sunday School, youth groups, singing, I was involved in the Christian culture. However, that phrase, “in not of” didn’t apply to me, I didn’t really live IN the world, I lived in a Christian bubble.

As a child, when I decided to give my life to Christ it was an easy decision because that was all I knew. I was young, I thought about it, it felt like the right thing to do and I did it. Then, I moved to New York.

Moving to NY was a culture shock. For the first time I was exposed to a different culture. Life in NY is faster and harder than life where I grew up. The lifestyle we had there could not fit into the lifestyle of a NYer and in the process of adapting I met people who had no religion, many because they never grew up in any religion, and many more because they grew up in a church and decided it wasn’t for them.

With the latter group, I have asked questions, why did you leave the church? There were many answers, too strict, burnt out, but a big one was never really believing what was going on because their parents send them or took them to church. Some believed that Jesus was real, but they don’t believe that he is the Son of God, be it historical reasons – many leaders were called Sons of god during that time – scientific beliefs or personal reasons. One other thing that I found amazing was that they thought he was a good guy, or just another prophet. However, I can’t really think of anyone who told me flat out that Jesus was a madman or a liar and I wonder about that. Was it that they were being polite? Or did they just not think it through?

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The Music in the Chaos

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Supposing you hear a cry or help from a man in danger. You will probably feel two desires – one a desire to give help (due to your herd instinct), the other a desire to keep out of danger (due to the instinct for self-preservation). But you will find inside you, in addition to these two impulses, a third thing which tells you that you ought to follow the impulse to help, and suppress the impulse to run away. Now this thing that judges between two instincts, that decides which should be encouraged, cannot itself be either of them. You might as well say that the sheet of music which tells you, at a given moment, to play one note on the piano and not another, is itself one of the notes on the keyboard. The Moral Law tells us the tune we have to play: our instincts are merely the keys. – C.S. Lewis; Mere Christianity (pg10)

Strictly speaking, there are no such things as good and bad impulses. Think once again of a piano. It has not got two kinds of notes on it, the ‘right’ notes and the ‘wrong’ ones. Every single note is right at one time and wrong at another. The Moral Law is not any one instinct or set of instincts: it is something which makes a kind of tune (the tune we call goodness or right conduct) by directing the instincts.– C.S. Lewis; Mere Christianity (pg11)

I recall reading Mere Christianity a few years ago. I was in a cabin in a remote area, a friend and I were on a retreat of sorts. I was sitting in the loft area, reading these passages and then it hit me. God is the grand composer. Sweet music doesn’t happen randomly, an intelligent being puts notes on staves in such a way that they sound melodious when played together. I thought of my favourite classical pieces and the complex way the musical notes intertwine, dancing around each other, complimenting one another. These things don’t just happen, thought and time goes into each piece.

I thought of earth the trees growing in the backyard, the deer that walk across the lawns, even the squirrels that ran up and down the trees looking for food. The complexity of each animal, the way trees grow, the water cycle and the fluffy clouds, I thought of these things, could they really have all happened by chance?

I thought about myself. My body, the blood the runs through my veins, the complexity of my brain and I wondered, how could this have all happened by chance?

I thought of how we are all connected as though derived from a similar place and I wondered, is it not possible that an intelligent being saw something that worked and then reworked it, making it better and better at each iteration?

Then, I thought of the notes. The music. The melody in the chaos of black and white. Left alone, things decay, spoil, die, but intelligence begat order and life.

Let’s Pretend: A Deserted Island

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A few days ago I finished a modern – and very satirical – book, called Beauty Queens. This story has a plane of pageant contestants crash landing on an island and what happens to them afterwards. What I like about Beauty Queens (not taking into consideration its satire) is that the pageant contestants turned wild as well – thought not to the degree found in Lord of the Flies. They worked together to survive, but, away from the eyes of society they became the women they wanted to be as opposed to what society expected from them – smiling, mindless beauties.

I tried to imagine what it would be like, to be alone on an island in the middle of nowhere. Of course there are a few differences here, I wouldn’t be stranded, and I’d have the ability to go home whenever I felt like it. So what would I do, left on my own? Well, I’d probably do a lot of reading. I’d lie on the sand and read book after book; I’d daydream. When my eyes get tired I’d step into the water, I’d stand still until fishes think I’m a part of their world. I’d watch the sunset. I’d sing at the top of my lungs. I’d turn cartwheels on the beach and make angels in the sand.

I’d dig a hole, and then fill it up back again, because I can and no one would be around to question the uselessness of the task I just performed. I’d light a fire. I’d watch the flames eat up the kindling, sending smoke dancing into the clouds. I’d dance with it.

I’d be as boring as I want to be, with no one to entertain. I’d be silent in my thoughts. When I tire of silence, I’d talk to the trees, and no one will question my sanity as I satisfy my imagination.

I wouldn’t have to answer questions about my relationship status. I wouldn’t have to make up smart comments when overly curious acquaintances ask me about the “new guy” they saw me joking around with, as though one cannot laugh with a person of the opposite gender without being otherwise interested.

I wouldn’t have to explain why I suddenly burst out in song, or apologize for singing Defying Gravity at the top of my lungs. I wouldn’t have to explain that sometimes I just feel the need to skip or pirouette.

I’ve gone off on a tangent. But the thought of going away and being alone is sometimes very appealing, if just for a day, if just to be boring and slightly ridiculous – if just to be me.

The End of Days

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While I believe that Harold Camping has a few screws missing in thinking that he could predict the end of the world, I will admit that I do like having a bit of fun with his prediction. End of Days party, anyone? However, when I woke up this yesterday to find a retweet in my feed, I stopped short and did a bit of thinking.

My first reaction was, “I wish people wouldn’t lump this craziness with Christians. We don’t think the world ends this Saturday!” and this is true for all the Christians that I know. However, along with this, a number of other thoughts rolled through my mind. No man knows the hour; generalization of a people group is often incorrect; I am hungry, what’s for breakfast? The last thought is irrelevant, but after that another thought tumbled by – suppose the world does end, but more specifically, suppose my life comes to an end, am I ready for that? What would I have left behind?

In the broader sense, if the world was to end and everyone dies then what? Well, we will find the answer to the much argued question – is there life after death? If there is no life after death then we are forever gone, and for me, it makes living meaningless – like running a race with no one knowing (or caring) that you’ve finished. If there is life after death, our souls will be wondering through eternity, forever trapped or freed due to our decisions on earth. Eternity is a long time. Eternity is endless and that’s awfully long to be wrong. More on this topic in another post! 😉

In the narrower sense, what if my life comes to an end? In regards to my soul, I am content in my beliefs and have the hope that my soul is accounted for eternally, so that’s not something I worry about. However, I do wonder about the people that I will be leaving behind on earth. My family, friend and my church are all an important part of my life, they are the people I spend most of my time with (outside of work).

I also wonder about my legacy. Will I be missed? How will I be remembered? Will lives be touched because of me? Will I pass from this world as a whisper or will I go out with a bang? I like to think of myself as a wallflower, but I do want to go out with a bang!

As these questions ran through my mind I took a look at my life and thought about all the projects that I’ve started this year and all the ideas that I am trying to implement. Perhaps there’s a part of me that woke up when 2011 came along and shook the cobwebs off and started moving. Perhaps that part of me can sense that an end is near. Perhaps there is a primal urge inside of me to live on in the things that I create. Perhaps I am no longer content with watching life pass me by. Whatever the case may be, if I had only a few days to live, I know that the life I am living now is the life that I want to be living and in that I am content.

End of the world? Bring it on.

He is Risen Indeed.

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On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.

While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!”

He is not here, he has risen – this is key of my belief.