Report Card
By Scott Harrup | May 9, 2008
“Dad, if I miss some homework the last week of school, will I make it into second grade?”
School will be out in a couple more weeks. I wondered where Austin was going with this line of inquiry.
“I think your teacher will let you know if you’re missing any homework. You’re not leaving any in your desk anymore, are you?” (There had been a recent minor crisis in that department.)
“No. I’m getting it all done… But what if I get a bad grade the last week of school?”
Obviously, something was up, and full disclosure wasn’t an option until I could magically connect the dots of his unspoken angst.
“Well, buddy, you’ve done enough good work throughout the year that even if you mess up on some final piece of homework, you’ll still make it into second grade.”
A look of relief. The hint of a smile.
“OK… Because I missed my last memory verse.”
I was glad to set his mind at ease, but his question got me to thinking. Don’t we ask God similar questions? Or, more accurately, don’t we ask ourselves similar questions because we’re too embarrassed to bring them up with God?
I’ve really messed up this time. Does God still love me? Can He really forgive me? When the “first grade” of life is over, can I make it to heaven’s “second grade”?
Too often, we’re tempted to answer such questions on the strength of the good things we remember doing. Kind of like our lives are on some cosmic grading card. Faithfully loving our spouse or sending our sick neighbor flowers gets us an “A.” Really awful sins like murder or mass credit card fraud get us an “F.” Everything has to balance out above a “D” average.
I can assure you, the answer to each of the above questions is a resounding yes. But the yes has nothing to do with any of your “A’s” or “B’s.” Austin’s grades average out, and he’s guaranteed a spot in second grade. You and I get promoted on the strength of God’s grace, through the amazing atonement of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection.
There’s no averaging, or curving, or even grading involved. The central question, the only question, is whether we accept the gift of salvation God offers.
I don’t know about you, but that’s an enormous relief to me.
Topics: Family Life, Bible | No Comments »
Poppin’ Peppers
By Scott Harrup | May 2, 2008
My family lived in Sierra Leone, West Africa, in the early ’70s serving as missionaries with the Assemblies of God. A popular rice dish of that area relied heavily on a small, red pepper for its kick. Traditionally seasoned “rice chop” was hot enough to break a sweat on your brow within a few bites.
A bush behind the large garage on our mission compound grew that little seasoning firecracker. It wasn’t a very impressive bush. But the tiny reddish-orange peppers among the smattering of little green leaves attracted my younger brothers’ attention. Blake and Obie, about 5 and 3 at the time, began picking and popping peppers.
Shaped like a micro-carrot, a pepper would squirt its juice out the pointed end when squeezed at the base.
Pick… pinch… pop… Obie had his system down. Blake joined in. They continued the game for a while.
Then Obie got hot. This was West Africa, after all. He wiped his brow, rubbed the sweat from his eyes, and began to scream.
Blake, the protective elder brother, ushered Obie to the house. Dad came to the door wondering which appendage had been broken or severed to elicit such howls.
Blake was quick to explain.
“Obie was picking peppers and he rubbed his eyes like this…” As soon as Blake demonstrated Obie’s fatal error, he was raising the rafters too.
Mom, a nurse, tried every home remedy at her disposal. But there was little that could be done until the tears washed the last residue of pepper juice from their eyes. The guys hollered so loudly our missionary neighbor, “Aunt” Gwen, walked the 100 yards or so between our homes to find out what was going on.
“At first I thought the boys were getting a spanking and I shouldn’t interfere,” she admitted. “Then I thought I’d better interfere.”
She was relieved to discover no serial child abuse.
I’ve had 36 years or so to ponder this little saga, contemplating what, if any, lessons I should learn. Some possibilities present themselves.
1: I escaped a similar fate by sheer luck. I wasn’t smarter than my siblings. I’d popped a few random peppers on my own without rubbing the juice in my eyes. Watching Blake and Obie wail, I prudently determined my pepper-popping days were over.
2: With 5-year-old logic, Blake thought he could mimic Obie’s actions without incurring the same consequences. Some of my decisions in life, at much later stages, have held me victim to that childish belief.
3: A lot of mistakes in life can be avoided if you just remember where things belong. Peppers can be tolerated a lot better in your stomach than in your eyes. A lot of marriages would be saved if spouses kept their affections reserved for each other. A lot of friendships would be preserved if confidences remained between those friends.
Dad still makes “rice chop” for our family. The grandkids love it. He leaves out the peppers.
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Unlikely Theologian
By Scott Harrup | April 25, 2008
Paul Verhoeven has made news with his pronouncement regarding the birth of Jesus Christ. The Dutch film director of such seminarian titles as Basic Instinct and RoboCop assures the world’s Christians that the Virgin Birth is a hoax. According to Verhoeven, Jesus was the offspring of Mary’s tragic rape by a Roman soldier.
An Amsterdam publishing house is to release Verhoeven’s biography of Jesus, Jesus of Nazareth: A Realistic Portrait. Move over Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.
This is ridiculous but sobering.
Why sobering? Because everyone who grapples with the identity of Jesus Christ is really coming to terms with how they will relate to their Creator. The Bible clearly states, “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12, NIV).
In light of his repackaging of Jesus’ birth, Verhoeven obviously denies Christ’s identity as God’s Son and the sole Mediator between fallen humanity and their Creator. I don’t know if he also denies God’s existence. But I do know he has considered all of these subjects if he has taken the time to write a book on Jesus’ life.
And that actually gives me hope for Verhoeven, even though right now he and I are coming to the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life from very different points of view.
Why am I hopeful? I believe the mere fact Verhoeven is studying Christ’s life is evidence that God is reaching out to this man. To me, that’s part of the miracle of Jesus’ life. People just can’t seem to ignore Him.
Topics: Books and Films, Bible, News | No Comments »
Footprints
By Scott Harrup | April 18, 2008
I’m an armchair outdoorsman. The last time I “camped out” was on a frigid November night last year with Austin in our backyard clubhouse. But I subscribed for a year to an outdoor magazine and enjoyed reading about cutting-edge camping equipment and exotic locales.
One of the concepts I encountered was “low-impact camping.” The idea is to leave a wilderness site as unchanged as possible. Not only should there be no trash left behind, but you should also avoid any “footprints” of your presence — no marring of trees or ground cover, for example.
These days I hear of a different kind of “footprint” in environmental news stories — my “carbon footprint.” National Public Radio did a piece on that subject this week, comparing the carbon footprints of an American and Chinese family.
Your carbon footprint is the amount of carbon dioxide emitted as a result of your energy use. Every time you drive a car, plug in a lamp, use an appliance, or fly a plane, you take part in a carbon dioxide-emitting process. Vehicles and power generating facilities emit tons of CO2, and that gas traps heat in the atmosphere and contributes to pollution.
I’m not into prophecies of global-warming doom, but I believe all of us have a responsibility to take care of the environment. So small “footprints” sound fine, in principle.
But are there circumstances when our footprints should be big? Even huge? I think so.
I want my “footprint” on my children’s lives to be massive. There are so many positive choices I want them to make, and the best way for them to learn of those choices is to see me making them myself. I want my kids to avoid all kinds of negative choices as well. And I’m perfectly willing to plant a metaphorical “footprint in the seat of their pants” if they need a more forceful warning.
I want my “footprint” of love to be inescapable for my wife. Jodie should never have to wonder if I love her less than extravagantly.
And my love footprint needs to reach everyone else I meet. That’s God’s command, that’s been His example to me, and I take that very seriously.
There’s one final area of “footprinting” that applies to all followers of Christ. We’re all commanded to “go into the whole world and preach the gospel” (Mark 16:15). We’re to tell everyone about the good news of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection in our behalf.
But me? I treat my “Mark 16:15 footprint” like my “carbon footprint” or that “low-impact camping footprint.”
And, all the while, God’s calling me to put on combat boots.
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“The wind blows wherever it pleases …”
By Scott Harrup | April 11, 2008
Ubiquitous John 3:16. Max Lucado has written about it in his latest best-seller, calling it the “Hope Diamond” of the Bible. During professional sports broadcasts the reference jumps out with highlighter intensity from handmade signs creeping onscreen. In a day of growing biblical illiteracy, the verse remains readily quotable.
Almost reflexively, the words pop in my mind: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” That’s King James freehand, and I find I’ve only missed a comma or two when I confirm the wording on my computer’s Bible software.
Less well known are the circumstances under which those words were spoken. I suspect many who quote John 3:16 mistakenly attribute the statement to John acting as Gospel narrator. But Jesus was speaking, and He was talking about God to someone who was supposed to be an authority on all things theological.
John 3 tells the story of Nicodemus, a Pharisee, one of the well-educated religious leaders of Jesus’ day. Mystified and intrigued, Nicodemus had observed Jesus’ ministry from the sidelines. Since the Pharisees wanted nothing to do with Christ, Nicodemus arranged a meeting with Him at night.
When you have a few minutes, read John 3 and try to forget any and all structured sermons you’ve ever heard about that “Hope Diamond” verse. Think instead of what it must have been like for Nicodemus to hear the Son of God personally proclaim God’s love to him. And take a look at the other things Jesus said that can get lost in all the focus on John 3:16.
During some random reading this week that might seem completely unrelated to the Gospels, I thought about this verse: “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit” (John 3:8, NIV).
Nicodemus was struggling with the notion of being “born again.” Jesus pointed to something going on all around us — the wind. It’s invisible and completely unpredictable, yet no reasonable person doubts the reality of wind. Why should being born again seem impossible?
I thought of Jesus’ statement while reading the opening chapter in Brian L. Silver’s The Ascent of Science (1998: Oxford University Press). It turns out, Silver explains, there are about 100 billion billion molecules in just one teaspoonful of the air around me. And those molecules are slamming into each other constantly. Each molecule experiences about 6 billion collisions every second.
All of that activity is going on even when there appears to be no wind at all—screw a lid on a glass jar, and inside that jar every one of the 100 billion billion molecules in every teaspoonful of air will be bouncing away from the molecules around it some 6 billion times every second. In the total absence of a breeze, we experience those collisions as static air pressure.
As I read Silver’s colorful descriptions of molecular motion in gases, I thought of Jesus and Nicodemus. I thought of wind blowing. I pondered the massive number of molecules and individual vectors involved in the smallest gust. I tried to extrapolate that to a local storm, or an entire weather front.
“Nicodemus, you might find the idea of being born again a little hard to wrap your preconceptions around,” Jesus says in my mental view of that evening. “But try to understand a simple breeze. You can’t, but it happens all the time.”
Nicodemus had no way of knowing it, but readers of John’s Gospel can learn right from the start that Jesus created all those molecules He alluded to: “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made” (1:3).
The Creator of the universe was describing His boundless love for His dearest creations in terms both simple and infinitely profound.
That’s the divine Presence still at work in every air molecule around me, and in my own life since I took a leap of faith years ago and was born again.
Topics: Books and Films, Bible | No Comments »
Fishy
By Scott Harrup | April 4, 2008
Los Angeles Times columnist Jonah Goldberg’s April 1 subject struck me at first glance as a possible April Fools’ joke. The column, “Evolution of religious bigotry,” considered “the cowardice and intolerance of slapping a Darwin fish on your car bumper.”
I had already been taken in by a local Christian radio station’s April Fools’ plea for 99 cent donations for every song I chose to listen to that day. I didn’t donate, but I switched stations in a huff before it dawned on me they weren’t serious.
Goldberg’s subject is serious. He considers the latest uproar in the religious world over an Internet film critical of one of the planet’s major faiths. He then brings the subject of intolerance closer to home by examining the phenomenon of competing fish symbols—the traditional Christian variety, and the more recent Darwinian knock-off.
“I find Darwin fish offensive,” Goldberg writes. “First, there’s the smugness. The undeniable message: Those Jesus fish people are less evolved, less sophisticated than we Darwin fishers.
“The hypocrisy is even more glaring. Darwin fish are often stuck next to bumper stickers promoting tolerance or admonishing random motorists that ‘hate is not a family value.’ But the whole point of the Darwin fish is intolerance; similar mockery of a cherished symbol would rightly be condemned as bigoted if aimed at blacks or women.”
Goldberg’s column has me doing some personal pondering. I’ve observed the interplay of bumper-mounted piscine silhouettes for a number of years. The Jesus fish. The original Darwin fish. The bigger Jesus fish, usually with “truth” emblazoned in it, swallowing a Darwin fish. I guess the series could be expanded ad infinitum.
I appreciate Goldberg’s defense of the traditional message of the fish symbol, but I also wonder how many Christians share some of the attitudes Goldberg attributes to the “Darwin fishers.” As I examine my own heart, I have to be honest and say the Darwin fishers are far from cornering the market on intolerance and smug hypocrisy.
I don’t have a fish silhouette on my car, nor do I wear any fish jewelry. For that matter, I’ve rarely worn a cross or any other external symbol of my faith. But if I ever decide to announce my commitment to Christ with a bumper sticker or item of personal attire, I’ll have to really examine my motivation.
Would such an act honestly convey to others my deepest religious convictions in a manner that invites them to examine the claims of Christ for themselves? Or, if I were not careful, could a fish or cross end up proclaiming a radical disconnect between my profession of Christianity and my everyday life?
Topics: Bizarre, Bible | No Comments »
Final Odyssey
By Scott Harrup | March 28, 2008
Arthur C. Clarke, world-renowned science fiction writer, died last week in his adopted homeland of Sri Lanka. Clarke, 90, was perhaps most famous for 2001: A Space Odyssey, the 1968 film on which he collaborated with director Stanley Kubrick and on which he developed the novel of the same name.
I read the novel in high school and I have a DVD of the film. The movie has held up well in its portrayal of space exploration. It’s far more scientifically sound than, say, Star Wars. For one thing, spacecraft obey the basic laws of physics. There’s no wild acrobatic flying on wings in the absence of an atmosphere. For another, a moon landing and lunar exploration mission were thrust into the public eye just months before Apollo 11 turned science fiction into science fact.
Whenever I watch 2001: A Space Odyssey I experience the same boyhood excitement I felt when I first discovered science fiction, which for me has always communicated a sense of wonder at our universe and humanity’s urge to explore it.
Odyssey, based on Clarke’s 1948 short story “The Sentinel,” proposes a compelling theory for human advancement: Alien beings with almost divine abilities enter Earth’s history at key moments to nudge mankind forward technologically.
That theory resonates indirectly with another aspect of my worldview: I’m convinced humanity has always been influenced in its development. Where Clarke and I would diverge in opinion regards the Source of that influence.
Clarke speculated about advanced alien civilizations and offered fictional visions of his ideas. But I find nothing speculative or fictional about the Bible’s record of humanity’s appearance in the universe at the hands of a loving Creator.
Clarke apparently took exception to any form of theistic belief right up to the end of his life. He left instructions that “absolutely no religious rites of any kind, relating to any religious faith” should be associated with his funeral. Yet, religious themes filled his writing. “Mr. Clarke’s writings were the most biblical,” observed Edward Rothstein in an essay for The New York Times, “the most prepared to amplify reason with mystical conviction, the most religious in the largest sense of religion: speculating about beginnings and endings, and how we get from one to the other.”
Where Clarke only allowed himself to speculate in matters of faith, countless others have discovered undeniable reality. One of those people is Charlie Duke, a man who visited the moon in 1972 as Apollo 16’s lunar module pilot.
I had the privilege of meeting Charlie and Dotty Duke in their Texas home in January. They joyfully spoke of their faith in Christ, a faith they discovered in the years following Charlie’s moon landing. That story will be in our Father’s Day edition of the Evangel. I hope you get a chance to read it.
Arthur C. Clarke was one of my literary heroes. I’ll continue to watch 2001: A Space Odyssey. But now I can’t watch or read Clarke’s material without a nagging question: What did he discover on his final odyssey?
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Hands
By Scott Harrup | March 21, 2008
When I look closely at my hands, details of my life come to mind.
Scars speak of accidents large and small. One of the smallest scars is from one of my worst injuries. I sliced the end of my right ring finger with a razor blade—deeply. But razors make for very thin scars. A more visible scar near the base of my right middle finger is from a minor injury. I was running through my bedroom as a boy and my hand caught a dresser knob.
During more than 21 years with my favorite person, my wedding ring has pinched a small groove visible whenever I take the ring off. That small line represents so much joy, so many shared challenges, the birth and growth of three children.
In our hands resides a wealth of skills critical to our livelihood. Mine have learned to navigate a computer keyboard. Other people train their hands to pick out the intricacies of a Chopin etude on the piano. Guinness World Records notes such strange accomplishments as the fastest time to carve a pumpkin (about 24 seconds) or pluck a turkey (90 seconds).
The Bible talks a lot about hands — human hands and the hands of God. Human hands, capable of expressing love and creating art, all too often carry out acts of hatred and violence.
God’s hands, viewed poetically and from the grandest scale, shaped the universe (Isaiah 40:12). God’s hand is also described as working in behalf of His chosen people Israel (Exodus 3:20) and even more specifically in individual lives (Psalm 37:24).
In the great story of redemption, human hands and God’s hands meld in the person of Christ. Which is why today the Christian world reverently celebrates God’s greatest act of love — most powerfully expressed in two, very human, nail-pierced hands.
Topics: History, Bible | No Comments »
Ripples
By Scott Harrup | March 14, 2008
Four people died in a McComb, Miss., bank shooting on Wednesday. The casualties were two bank employees, a customer and the gunman.
The gunman came into the bank shortly after 11 a.m. and opened fire, killing one employee and one customer. He then took the other employee, his ex-wife, and drove away in a truck. He apparently shot her before shooting himself.
Police believe the incident was a domestic situation rather than an attempted robbery. If they’re correct, the loss of life was a direct result of one man’s inability to accept the loss of his marriage.
Divorce is tragic in itself. But here’s another level of tragedy boiling out of the initial breakup.
I’m convinced it’s impossible to calculate the full effects whenever we pursue a line of action in opposition to God’s laws. There’s a domino effect, an ever-growing series of ripples…pick your analogy.
Four people went to a bank Wednesday morning. Three of them probably thought the day would be like any other. Perhaps even the gunman never planned to take things as far as they went. But something terrible was brewing from that earlier divorce, and people who probably had no connection with it ended up dying.
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You Cannibal, You Ogre, Your Majesty
By Scott Harrup | March 7, 2008
A friend recently gave me a desk calendar of random historical events. The February 26 entry listed a series of newspaper blurbs from France in 1815. Journalists of the day were following Napoleon’s escape from exile on the Island of Elba and his renewed attempts at European conquest.
On March 9: “The Cannibal has escaped from his den.” March 10: “The Corsican ogre has just landed at Cape Juan.” The slurs continue for the next week and a half until March 21: “His imperial and royal majesty last evening made his entrance into his Palace of the Tuileries, amidst the joyous acclamations of an adoring and faithful people.”
Thanks to a growing number of ever-popular Shrek installations, Napoleon might get by with “ogre” today. But how do you shed the odium of “cannibal” and receive “the joyous acclamations of an adoring and faithful people”?
Most of us take media pronouncements of the famous with a grain of salt. Mark Twain, in his speech “License of the Press” observed, “That awful power, the public opinion of a nation, is created in America by a horde of ignorant, self-complacent simpletons who failed at ditching and shoemaking and fetched up in journalism on their way to the poorhouse.”
If we look with a jaded eye at the constant shift in public opinion, how many of us allow a similar fickleness to filter into our relationships? Ask yourself if your perception of a spouse, sibling, parent or friend dramatically morphed the last time that person pleased you or disappointed you.
Lately I’ve been reflecting on 1 Corinthians 13 and its list of love’s characteristics. I see there a passion for valuing others and building them up, regardless of the mistakes they make. I like being valued and built up—and I make more than my share of mistakes—so I’m thinking life will improve for all us individually and collectively in proportion to how seriously we live by that little manifesto.
Topics: History | 1 Comment »