Joey Gibson's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘religion’

I don’t like “devotionals.”  They are almost always silly, trite, supposed “life lessons” that are tied, loosely, to a particular bit of scripture, with little to no theological grounding. Very often, that scripture has been edited to remove bits that either don’t fit the message of the devotional, or make the devotional-writer uncomfortable. The Common Lectionary does this, too, so it’s not just the writers of devotionals.

Yesterday, at church, the minister said he was going to share one of these devotionals, which he had read during the previous week, with us. It had two pieces of scripture: Philippians 4:6, and Luke 12:22-32. The verse from Philippians is part of Paul’s exhortation to the church at Ceserea Philippi, and it reads:

…do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God

That scripture is used a lot by people who live by the “God is in complete control” mantra, and who bother him with every mundane thing in their lives. That’s not the scripture I want to talk about, though verses 2 & 3 make a great case against those churches who use Paul’s writings to subjugate their women. Perhaps I’ll write about that another time.

The editing I’m concerned with is from Luke. The selected verses read thus:

And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you.

“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

Notice how that last line begins another quote and how it isn’t closed. That means there’s more to it. Here are verses 33 and 34 (emphasis mine):

Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

These two lines, also, are part of a larger discourse, and still do not end the quotation, but this is enough to make my point. I am not innocent of this, but Christians over the past 50 years or so have gotten into the mindset that “God wants me to prosper.” I’m not saying that God does not want us to be happy, or to have the things we need; the bulk of this passage says that he does. But the part that was omitted from the devotional was the part about selling your things and giving the proceeds to the needy. We don’t like to think about that. This stuff is mine. I worked hard to get it. Why can’t that bum just get a job and take care of himself, right? That may be our attitude, it has certainly been mine at times, but time and again, Jesus tells his followers to sell their possessions and give to those who have none. We give anonymously, sure. We toss a few bucks in the collection plate as it’s passed around on Sunday mornings, but are we really willing to sell what we have, and give to those who are in need? That’s a very difficult proposition.

A brief story. Thursday, I was driving over to Trader Joe’s to get some things. I was stopped at the traffic light at Roswell Road and Hammond Drive, when I saw two homeless people on the sidewalk. The woman was in a wheelchair and was missing a leg or two (I can’t remember if it was both or not) and the man was holding a cardboard sign, which read, “Can you help?” Both were filthy, as you might guess, but the man had a cheerful expression on his face, which surprised me. (He also reminded me of the Atlanta local guitar player Glenn Phillips.) I then remembered that I had a trash bag in the trunk that was full of change from when I cleaned out my old car and moved into the new one. I pulled into the nearest parking lot, scooped all the change into an envelope and walked over to where they were sitting. As I walked up, the women was lighting up a cigarette, which caused a visceral reaction in me, that I’ve had many times: if they can afford cigarettes, why should I help them? But then I paused for a second and thought to myself: homeless people can have addictions, too. If I can help them, regardless of what I think of how they might spend the money, shouldn’t I? Did Jesus say, “Sell your possessions and give to the needy, as long as they will spend the money the way you want them to?” No, he didn’t. Am I feeding their nicotine addiction? Perhaps. Did I possibly give them enough money for dinner that night? Maybe. Anyway, I walked up to them handing the envelope to the man, saying, “There’s not much here, but maybe it will help.” Both of their faces lit up with genuine gratitude. The man looked at the envelope and said, “No, man, there’s probably four or five dollars here. Thank you so much.” Both smiled at me, I smiled back, said good-bye and went back to my car.

I tell you that story, not so you can see what a great, compassionate Christian I am, but to illustrate that even in the act of charity, I was still caught up in the fact that I was about to give them my money and they better spend it how I think they should. Never mind that someone could have given them the cigarettes. Never mind the “give a man a fish/teach a man to fish” argument. These people looked like they needed help. I was in a position to give them a small amount of help, and I felt like they really did appreciate it.

Anyway, so we selectively edit scripture to fit a particular message, or to fit nicely with a pithy saying. So what about logical conclusions? Well, as I was thinking about the scripture, the minister was going on about how we need to “stop worrying” and just know that “God is in complete control” and blah blah blah… I’ve always hated that way of thinking. I despise the Sandy Patty song, “God Is In Control,” because I do not believe that is true.

People like to say that he is in complete control, when things are going well, and when things aren’t going well, they say it again, hoping for a return to well-ness. But here’s the rub: if you believe that he is in “complete control” then you have to take that to its logical conclusion. If you believe that every good thing that happens to you is because God wanted it to be that way, then you must also accept that every bad thing that happens to you is because God wanted it that way. It’s all a part of “His Plan” or some such. If you believe that God wanted your team to win your softball game, then you must also believe that he wanted that seven year-old to get cancer and suffer for a couple of years before dying. If you believe that God wanted your plane to land safely, then you must also believe that he wanted those two planes full of innocent people to fly into the World Trade Center on 9/11. That’s an uncomfortable thing.

This only applies to those who subscribe to the “God is in complete control” way of thinking. It does not, necessarily, apply to those who believe in God and believe that he does, on occasion, answer prayers. That’s actually something I’ve never understood from the “complete control” believers: if he’s in complete control, and we are merely pawns on a chessboard, why is prayer even necessary? He already knows what he wants to have happen, regardless of what you want, right? Why do you need to tell/ask him?

Now, I will say that I do believe there is a God. Apart from the fact that I was raised believing that, and it’s a part of who I am, it makes as much sense to me as the “something from nothing” argument. Yes, it means we then have the question of where did God come from, but that at least pushes the question out another level, and I don’t have to think about it as much. :-) God does answer some prayers, but it’s pretty much impossible to figure out which ones he will answer and why. There’s another pithy saying, which I also hate, which goes, “God answers all prayers, but sometimes the answer is ‘no’.” That’s a way to rationalize why person A’s prayer seemed to get a favorable answer while person B’s did not: there was an answer, but the answer wasn’t what person B wanted, and person B just needs to accept that it’s part of the “plan” or the “big picture” and move on. Why do some people seem to receive miraculous healing, while my wife suffers with a degenerative nerve condition that keeps her in pain, 24 hours a day? That’s a very good question, and I don’t have an answer.

This is getting long and a bit rambling, so let me sum up. Any time you are reading a devotional, or in church, and you see that the scripture reading ends before a passage is complete or, worse, you’re supposed to skip some verses in the middle of a larger passage, go ahead and read those extra verses and see if it changes the meaning of the scripture. It won’t always make a difference. Sometimes, it’s just boring details that really have no bearing on the meaning. But sometimes, like in the case of Luke 12, it makes a big difference. And remember where logic takes you and what believing in absolutes means you have to accept.

Yesterday (Sunday) my family and I were at our local shopping wonderland, Cost Plus World Market. I love this place, because they sell products I can’t find anywhere else. My favorite is Bundaberg Ginger Beer (non-alcoholic), which is, without a doubt, the best ginger beer I’ve ever tasted. They also sell lots of interesting foods from around the world, including jasmine rice with the “Super Lucky Elephant” brand on it, which made both Thomas and me laugh.

While we were there, Tammy found a bottle of wine that she wanted. It was tall and curving, with beautiful lines, but most of all it was made of lovely blue glass. She has a thing for blue glass, and so she wanted the bottle. Just the bottle. She didn’t care about the wine in it, because she doesn’t drink at all. I don’t drink wine, though I do cook with it; I also have an occasional beer or mixed drink. And by “occasional” I mean I have one drink every two months or so. That makes me pretty much a non-drinker.

Anyway, I get up to the counter to pay for our items when it hits me: Dang. It’s Sunday. I can’t buy this bottle of wine because Jesus might blush! That’s right; I was a victim of Georgia’s absurd, antiquated Blue Laws. In Georgia, as in several other states, it is illegal to buy or sell alcohol in most cases on Sundays. Some counties/cities allow restaurants to sell alcohol on Sundays (after noon, of course; you can’t serve it while you should be in church!), but it’s always a fight with certain obstinate residents when it comes up. The city council of the city next to mine has been trying to legalize Sunday alcohol sales for years, because no new restaurant will open in the city without a liquor license, and the few restaurants that are there are leaving for friendlier areas. Yet there those few stubborn residents are, pining for “the town I used to know” and suchlike. Recently the city county finally passed Sunday drink sales and began issuing permits to several restaurants before eight residents filed a lawsuit to stop it. They found a judge who issued an injunction against further permits until a hearing could be convened. That hearing is coming up soon, but for now, no more permits are being issued. The few restaurants who obtained permits before the residents’ anti-alcohol jihad are happily selling on Sunday, though if the suit is successful, they will be stripped of their permits.

Now, I have no problem with people who don’t like alcohol. I may think they are a little backward, but I bear them no ill will. Don’t like alcohol? Fine. Don’t drink it. Don’t patronize establishments that sell it. Vote with your pocketbooks. But when you try to use the power of the state to keep me from getting a drink, that’s when I have a problem. And no matter how much some of these people try to disguise their motives, it all comes down to one thing: religion. They want to “protect” Sunday, because that day is special to their religion. I’m a Christian, so Sunday is special to me, too, but having a drink on Sunday is not a sin.

Alcohol is a legal product. Not allowing sales of it on Sunday is nothing more than favoring Christianity over the rights of citizens to buy the products of their choice on the day of their choice. The really amusing thing in all of this, if there is one, is that according to John,  Jesus’ very first miracle was the conversion of water into wine at the wedding at Cana. And not just wine, but good wine. It was so good, in fact, that the steward asked the host why he had saved the best for last, when everyone was already drunk. I’ve actually brought this up with teetotalers and have been met with cries of “Oh, fie! It wasn’t really wine; it was merely grape juice.” Yeah. OK. Whatever.

(As an aside, the Greek in this case says τὸν καλὸν οἶνον. καλόν comes from καλός, which has these as possible translations “beautiful, handsome, excellent, eminent, choice, surpassing, precious, useful, suitable, commendable, admirable”. That was some good wine.)

So what do I want? I want overzealous religious folk (of any stripe) to mind their own business and stop trying to force their religion down my throat. These people would also do well to think about how they will feel if, at some point in the future, a different religion than theirs has the reins. How will they feel then, as followers of that religion start enacting laws forcing residents to respect their customs? Something tells me they would feel quite a bit different.