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?
Topics: Books and Films, Bible | No Comments »
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.
Topics: Family Life | No Comments »
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 »
Here, Kitty-Kitty …
By Scott Harrup | February 29, 2008
She found her way into our garage during a recent winter ice storm, then ran into the house when I opened the door to the garage. She’s been living with us ever since.
After canvassing a stretch of our neighborhood for possible owners, Jodie took Alex (or Kit-Kat, or Kitty, or whatever—she ignores all names equally) to the vet for an array of maintenance medical procedures. Our children desperately prayed no one would show up to claim her. I joined their prayers. With the cost of various shots, de-worming, de-clawing and de-reproducing procedures, I shuddered to think I could be underwriting everything for another owner.
Not to mention what a civil suit might cost if said owner was intent on breeding an obviously superior specimen of American Stray. With juries awarding millions in damages over spilt coffee, there’s no telling what a pair of missing cat ovaries could cost me.
I haven’t had a cat since the sixth grade, haven’t had one I really liked since about the third, and have maintained a one-pet rule in our home. As long as Suki, our Lhasa apso, was breathing, the Harrup household was to be a strict no-immigration zone.
But in the middle of an ice storm my defenses evaporated when this near-frozen feline shot through the door into our living room and began purring the instant I picked her up.
You’re not the kind of guy who would put me out in the cold, are you?
I guess I’m not.
She’s made herself at home throughout the house, including at the makeshift litter box in the basement bathroom. Our exhaust fan has come close to melting. Pound for pound, Kitty trumps anything the Defense Department has in the way of a biological weapon. Nerve agents, anthrax, sarin gas — these are toys compared to the festering lethal compounds she buries in that box.
Of course, moi is the primary kitty litter changer. I’m thinking of checking E-Bay for a haz-mat suit.
Reviewing this whole unforeseen adoption process, I’ve taken a closer look at my sense of priorities. Here I am going out on a limb to rescue a lost cat, and spending more hard-earned cash on her than I have on any number of worthy charities lately.
With my family’s happiness as my primary motivation, the sacrifice is not entirely unwarranted. All the same — if I’m willing to do this for a lost lump of fur God brings across my path, what should I be willing to do the next time He confronts me with a fellow human’s need?
I’m thinking about that one.
Topics: Family Life | 2 Comments »
Secrets
By Scott Harrup | February 22, 2008
A few weeks back I spent some down time watching a DVD of The Company, the TNT mini-series based on the book of the same name by Robert Littell. The story follows about 40 years in the lives of a mix of characters — some historical, others fictional — during the Cold War.
I enjoy novels and films on the subject of espionage, and The Company focuses on the CIA. The film convincingly portrays real events — the unmasking of British double agent Kim Philby, international tensions in a divided Berlin, Hungary’s crushed revolution, the Bay of Pigs debacle in Cuba. Fictional characters allow for fascinating in-depth treatment of subjects that must remain classified to average citizens such as myself.
And that’s where I note a paradox.
Littell did his homework. His research produced a 900-page book that garnered high praise four years before the film was made. He has been called America’s John Le Carré. While Littell reported on the Cold War extensively for Newsweek before turning to novel writing, however, he was never an employee of the CIA or any other espionage agency.
Littell’s research gives him enough material to lend an air of authenticity to his story. Yet the very nature of the clandestine operations he describes means that no amount of research can bring to light many of the actual events. Had Littell served with the CIA, “the Company,” he would not be at liberty to discuss the details of his assignments with the public.
In a sense, The Company and other best-sellers dealing with modern espionage act as parables. The struggle to preserve a free society against totalitarian governments, the challenge of protecting a nation you love while hiding so much of yourself from loved ones, the very real and extended drudgery that far outweighs any brief flashes of glory — these are general principles true to life portrayed in fictional plots.
This is a key function of good writing true of most genres. Even science fiction and horror are able to shed light on life in ways that sometimes surpass a strictly factual account.
My fiction reading and my own life as a writer color how I perceive another set of parables — the ones with a capital P spoken by the greatest Storyteller of all. He could boil down concepts like faith and righteousness and the kingdom of God to things like mustard seeds, wedding garments and hidden treasure.
Trying to understand and live by the truths found within that body of work will consume my lifetime, and enrich my life immeasurably.
Perhaps you’ve discovered that for yourself.
Topics: Books and Films, History | 2 Comments »
Anonymous
By Scott Harrup | February 15, 2008
Presidents Day celebrates some great leaders in U.S. history. Think of George Washington guiding America into independence, or Abraham Lincoln restoring a divided nation to unity. But what about the countless men and women who assisted those presidents? Perhaps you’ve seen Emanuel Leutze’s famous painting of Washington crossing the Delaware River. What were the names of those guys rowing the boat?
Along with well-known personages such as David, Esther, Jeremiah, Mary, and John the Revelator, plenty of off-the-beaten-path Bible characters appear for a few verses, do something minor or even strange, then disappear. Some aren’t even named.
Here’s one example.
“When the Israelites cried to the Lord because of Midian, he sent them a prophet, who said, ‘This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: I brought you up out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. I snatched you from the power of Egypt and from the hand of all your oppressors. I drove them from before you and gave you their land. I said to you, “I am the Lord your God; do not worship the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you live.” But you have not listened to me’” (Judges 6:7-10, NIV).
In the absence of mass media, this unnamed prophet probably traveled throughout the nation repeatedly yelling out his proclamation in order to get the message across. Hard work. Most likely, lots of hiking in tough terrain. Perhaps the occasional hostile reception from a town or village where the “gods of the Amorites” were the religion du jour, thank you very much.
Move further into Judges 6 and you begin reading about Gideon, the hero in Israel who, with only 300 men, obeyed God and attacked and defeated a massive army from Midian. The prophet who isn’t even named delivered his message from heaven then stepped off the scene right before Gideon grabbed national attention.
Prophets like Elijah or Isaiah or Ezekiel cover massive tracts of Scripture real estate. Prophet John Doe? Almost nothing. But the placement of his tiny anecdote makes it clear everything in the chapters to follow is connected to what he said.
Our anonymous friend is in good company. Most of us will not generate in-depth coverage by future historians. What did Andy Warhol say about our “15 minutes of fame”? But every one of us can do and say things of significance if we make ourselves available to God. If our life story creates mere sentences in the public record, our obedience to our Heavenly Father lets us partner with Him to bring about divine purpose and ultimate blessing in countless lives.
When that happens, who cares if we’re anonymous?
Topics: History | No Comments »
Grin of the Living Dead
By Scott Harrup | February 8, 2008
I admit it. I’m one of those people who stare closely into a casket when attending a funeral. I’m always looking for that hint of a breath. When I stare hard enough I can just about convince myself I see the tiniest movement, the ghost of a rise and fall in the chest. Doesn’t matter if I know the deceased has been embalmed and there’s not the remotest chance of a coma being mistaken for death. I still look.
With a Barnes and Noble Christmas gift card, I recently picked up a copy of Frozen in Time by Owen Beattie and John Geiger. Anthropologist Beattie’s team exhumed the bodies of three sailors from the ill-fated 1845 Franklin expedition to the Arctic. The expedition’s ships, Terror and Erebus, vanished. But the three crewmen had been buried on a remote rocky island early in the voyage. Examining the bodies, Beattie’s team uncovered clues to the fate of the rest of the crew. Modern analysis points to malnutrition and lead poisoning as the causes of death. Deserted, the ships would have been crushed by shifting ice.
But those three recovered bodies—they have a life of their own in an eerie sort of way. The frigid arctic conditions basically freeze-dried the corpses. The eyes of one John Torrington, only 20 years old at his death, are open in published photographs. His lips pull back in an almost-grin.
“Every time we find the well-preserved body of someone who died long ago—an Egyptian mummy, a freeze-dried Incan sacrifice, a leathery Scandinavian bog-person, the famous iceman of the European Alps,” writes best-selling author Margaret Atwood in the introduction to Frozen in Time, “there’s a similar fascination. Here is someone who has defied the general ashes-to-ashes, dust-to-dust rule, and who has remained recognizable as an individual human being long after most have turned to bone and earth. In the Middle Ages, unnatural results argued unnatural causes, and such a body would either have been revered as saintly or staked through the heart. In our age, try for rationality as we may, something of the horror classic lingers: the mummy walks, the vampire awakes. It’s so difficult to believe that one who appears to be so nearly alive is not conscious of us.”
A melding of death and life touches each of us at the core of our spiritual journey. Read the Book of Romans and you’ll find the apostle Paul reflecting on his “dead” identity as a sinner separated from God, and the new life Christ brought him at salvation. Because Paul still inhabited his earthly body when he wrote Romans, he still struggled with personal tendencies from his sinful past.
The happy ending to Paul’s somewhat macabre narrative comes in Romans 7:24-25 and Romans 8:1-2.
“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death” (NIV).
All followers of Christ struggle with some of the habits and desires from our “dead” past. But all of us can count on a day when we will forever bid farewell to death and embrace eternal life in God’s presence.
Topics: Bizarre, Books and Films, History | 1 Comment »
Background Noise
By Scott Harrup | February 1, 2008
I’m sitting in the lobby of the sports medicine center where my son Connor has physical therapy two days a week. His sessions run the gamut of speech, occupational and physical therapy, all with the goal of battling the effects of cerebral palsy.
The lobby is a good spot to catch up on miscellaneous tasks. Like this blog. But there’s a catch. The TV bolted against one of the pillars is almost always on. Talk shows, court simulation shows, the occasional situation comedy with metronomic bursts of canned laughter—all intrude on the silence I prefer when writing.
When I glance around at the other people waiting, most are trying to read a book or magazine. The TV is the 800-pound gorilla in the room no one talks about. I know they all hear it. Every now and then, someone glances up at it in glazed semi-interest.
I’m tempted to stand and ask if I can turn off the TV. Would anyone miss it? But I don’t. I keep sitting here pecking away at my notebook’s keyboard, trying to grasp the wisps of an idea threading through my brain while a portion of my mind is hijacked.
So here’s my question: What other “background noise” might compromise the quality of what I want to accomplish in life? How can I fine-tune my day and be more effective?
And what about the things I do and say? Am I creating unnecessary and even destructive background noise for others? What needs to happen in me so I’m contributing to others’ lives rather than slowing them down or tripping them up?
I think that’s where the apostle Paul was focusing his thoughts when he wrote, “Looking at it one way, you could say, ‘Anything goes. Because of God’s immense generosity and grace, we don’t have to dissect and scrutinize every action to see if it will pass muster.’ But the point is not to just get by. We want to live well, but our foremost efforts should be to help others live well” (1 Corinthians 10:23,24, The Message).
I’ll add my amen to that … but quietly.
Topics: Family Life | 1 Comment »