Category Archives: w/r/t religion

Jan 13 2012

to do good works

Last night Jimmy Fallon did a skit called Tebowie. (You can watch it here if you like.) The skit is really pretty brilliant, combining Tim Tebow and David Bowie into one character. And I’ll admit I laughed, especially during Jesus’s response. But it calls to mind something that’s been bugging me for a long time: are we even capable of talking about Tim Tebow without talking about religion?

To me, TIm Tebow is a guy who’s managed to lead the Denver Broncos into the playoffs in a year in which that seemed a relatively remote possibility. I think he’s a great – albeit young – quarterback. He makes some smart decisions out there; he makes some pretty bad ones. Just like just about any other non-Cleveland second-year quarterback. But watching him play is exciting because Tim gets excited. When he’s on a roll, his smile is brilliant and he’s clearly loving his job and his life.

And he doesn’t quit. I’ve seen plenty of quarterbacks throw in the towel halfway through the fourth quarter. (Here’s yet another good place to mention Cleveland.) Football is all about fighting until that last second, but Tim Tebow is just about the only player I’ve seen who believes in fighting until the end. He’s been rewarded for it, too, with four overtime wins so far this season.

So there it is. Tim Tebow: a great young player who doesn’t give up.

Oh, and maybe you’ve heard, he also believes in Jesus Christ.

Everyone from Shannon Sharpe to the aforementioned Jimmy Fallon seemingly can’t mention Tim Tebow without also mentioning his faith. No one – at least no one at that level – outright makes fun of him, but they seem to want to turn him over under a microscope. To try to figure out if this Jesus-thing has any real significance. To see if maybe he’s winning games because God really is on his side.

Even actual reporters are missing the point. The Baltimore Sun editorial indulges in the purported significance of Tebow’s 316 passing yards for 31.6 yards-per-completion, the significance being John 3:16: For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. The Sun’s indulgence meant to poke fun at said indulgences, ironically. But that’s only after writing the thing that bugs me the most about the whole Tebow phenomenon: “Tebow is devoted to his faith in a very public way.”

Yes, Tim Tebow prays. Yes, Tim Tebow thanks God. Yes, Tim Tebow wears bible verses on his face. But to say that he is “very public” about his faith is a complete fabrication.

In every single interview I’ve seen with Tim Tebow this year, the subject of his faith has, in fact, come up. And in every single one of them, it’s been the other person who brought it up. Tim Tebow talks about his faith because people ask him about it. Tim Tebow is public about his faith in exactly the same way and you and I are public about our noses: he has it. People notice. No one asks about our noses because almost everyone has one. Everyone asks about Tebow’s faith because few people have it, at least at that level. I don’t believe what he believes, but I wish I could believe in something to the degree that Tim Tebow does.

Which, I think, is the reason behind the fascination. They don’t want to know what Tim believes; they want to know how he believes. And so strongly. How he can do God’s good work in these times. And that – that - is the real faith. Anyone can believe in anything when you’re winning games. It takes real faith to believe when you’re down two touchdowns in the fourth against Tom Brady. The reason we turn Tim Tebow over under a microscope isn’t that he believes; it’s that we don’t.

May 20 2011

rapture resolution

And so then I realized that if this whole rapture thing happens tomorrow as some have suggested that it will, I’ll pretty much have no idea if it did because almost everyone I know will still be around.

Not that my friends are horrible people by any stretch. It’s just that most of my friend aren’t Christians(1), or at least aren’t strictlyChristian. Ashley, for example, carries a set of beliefs that cross the boundaries of about a dozen religions. So even though these are pleasant, decent, good people, the Christian God will pass them over, not let them pass Go or collect $200.

Not pictured: Horsemen.

So, basically, I may never know if it happened.(2)

1.You tend to collect those around you who share your values I guess.
2.I do have two friends who are extremely Christian, even being founding member of a Christian rock band. If the rapture happens, they will likely not be around after tomorrow. The problem here is that they’re also the kind of guy that if I text them to see if they’re still around, they won’t respond because it’s an excellent joke. Thus, the rapture-resolution will still be unattained and yours truly left in the dark.
Feb 3 2011

Spanking Jesus

I’ll admit that I wasn’t paying a great deal of attention. At funerals I tend to zone out once the religious talk begins, with no disrespect intended towards the recently departed. I acknowledge what people believe and I acknowledge how it helps them get through especially difficult situations such as the death of a loved one. I wouldn’t denigrate that in the least; anything that can comfort without harming is valuable.

But Christianity just isn’t really for me. We just don’t fit together. I wish it – and the people who follow it – no harm. It’s just not how I roll.

Nor will I pretend that that’s how I roll. I don’t want to misrepresent myself or my beliefs. So when the pastor asked the mourners to bow our heads in prayer, I silently declined. From that point on I kind of hung out in my own area, paying attention to people in the room rather than what the pastor was saying. It’s my default position: if nothing’s going on of immediate interest, I watch people.

My silent zoning was brought abruptly to a halt. It happened something like this:

ME: Zoning
PASTOR: Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah spanking Jesus.
ME: Zoning. Wait. What…?

I tuned myself back into the immediate reality and heard him say, ‘That’s what Jesus did when he died on the cross. He took the spanking for us.’

Okay, I thought, it’s a strange analogy to make but yeah I suppose it’s a valid one. I prepared myself for more zoning out1 but the pastor continued:

‘You see, when we’ve maybe not lived as well as we could, we have to face our heavenly Father. Like any other father, His instinct may be to spank us. Discipline, after all, is important. We all need discipline. But that’s what Jesus does. He steps in for us. He says, “No, Dad. Spank me instead.”’

Surrealist Max Ernst understands.

Despite my best efforts at self-control2 I felt my eyes widen in surprise. I kinda glanced around the room and saw people listening intently, some even dabbing their eyes. I sort-of questioned if I’d just heard that right, but Ashley caught my eye and I saw that once again my partner in mutual weirdness was right there with me, her eyes every bit as wide as my own.

The pastor carried on with this extended and curiously chosen metaphor for quite some time. I think he lectured about Jesus and spanking for maybe five minutes, putting those two words together – spanking Jesus – maybe half a dozen times.

And not once was it not just strange as hell.

I’m not at all disagreeing with his analogy. In a manner of speaking, yes, Jesus purportedly takes the spankings that are rightfully ours…if you assume that spanking means died for our sins.

I’m questioning his word-choice, like I so often do. Spanking? Spanking?!

Can’t we just say that Jesus takes our punishment for us? That Jesus takes a whipping for us?3

That He takes the heat? The blame? The rap?

Gets the book thrown at him?

Does the time for our crime?

Gets sent up the river? Chewed out? Called out on the carpet? His hide tanned? His wrist slapped? His just desserts?

Gets his what-for?

Is given the business? The fix?

Is tarred and feathered?

Keelhauled?

Can we use any phrase as all that doesn’t make me think of the Son of God in any type of or sadomasochistic way?

Please?

Because while maybe I don’t accept the vast majority of Christianity’s teachings, I don’t wholly rule out that its teachings are possible.4 If they’re possible then Jesus may very well be the Son of God. If Jesus is the Son of God, then if I have to face God at some point I’d rather not have him hold it against me that I once pictured his boy draped across someone’s knee getting his ass smacked!5 I don’t mean to be irreverent, but that’s what I thought and I’m pretty sure that’d be a tough one to explain to the Big Dude.

All I’m angling for here is a brief consideration of word-choice. Any of you out there who read this silly blog and who also happen to preach, proselytize, and/or testify, please please please consider the words you’re using whilst doing so. Humanizing Jesus6 is totally fine and cool. But take it a bit far – like ‘spanking Jesus’ – and you’re going to find yourself and perhaps some of your listeners in the back of the bus with Scorsese.7,8

  1. Which was hard to do with Ashley’s three-year-old nephew sitting on her lap next to me. He behaved about as well as could be expected but he gave fidgety a whole new meaning.
  2. Which let’s face it never really does me a whole lot of good anyway.
  3. This one at least has Biblical precedent, what with all the flogging and everything He took at the hands of the Romans and Mel Gibson.
  4. Same with pretty much any religion, with the exception of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
  5. And maybe let’s also say maybe I pictures Him in leather ass-less chaps.
  6. Dear 8-pound, 6-ounce baby Jesus…
  7. Who’ll have to answer for The Last Temptation of Christ if he ever meets the Big Guy. I have a feeling that won’t go well for him.
  8. And I’ll throw in a little self-conscious editorial here and say that I mean absolutely no disrespect to the recently departed. The scene described above could have happened anywhere; it just happened to have happened at a funeral.