Four Lessons from Last Night’s Desperate Housewives

I enjoyed last night’s Desperate Housewives episode.  Here are four items that stood out to me:

1.  Tom Sciavo decided to take that high-powered job, and he expressed excitement to Lynette that people are actually eager to know what he thinks.  That’s what many of us want: to know that our opinion is valuable, to feel as if we are movers and shakers who are taken seriously.  But many of us go through seasons (in many cases, long seasons) in which we feel invisible, or when we think that nobody is interested in what we have to say, or even when it seems as if people are jeering at our insights rather than taking them seriously.  Are these wilderness experiences designed to make us humbler when we finally do get success?  Perhaps things can work out that way.  But I think of one episode of Touched by an Angel, “The Sixteenth Minute”, which had Grant Shaud, the actor who played Miles on Murphy Brown (see here).  Shaud played Ed Gold, an under-appreciated man who received a short-lived celebrity status after rescuing a woman in a collapsing mine.  When he got fame, he became pompous, and he frantically sought to hold on to his celebrity status.  His years of feeling invisible and under-appreciated actually did not make him humbler, for he enjoyed finally being noticed, and he wanted to stay in the spotlight.  He also began to neglect his marriage, which many of us probably thought that Tom was about to do with his new-found prominence and influence.  But Tom brought flowers for his wife, Lynette, at the end, and so, hopefully, that means that he will remember the important things in life even while he’s a mover and shaker.

2.  Susan Delfino had a lucky streak.  She is a perfect match for a new kidney.  She is winning at poker.  Yet, she’s sad.  She wonders why she has good luck, whereas others have bad luck.  For example, a friend she made in the hospital—who had also needed a kidney—recently passed away.  And Susan is afraid that her good luck will not last.

But Susan has a talk with Roy, Miss McClusky’s boyfriend, who is played by Orson Bean of Dr. Quinn fame.  Roy tells Susan about when he was in the war, and a friend of his died, whereas he lived.  Roy asked his commanding officer why, and the commanded officer replied, “Why ask why?”  Roy told Susan that she shouldn’t ask “Why?” when it came to her lucky streak, but she should enjoy it while it lasted.

I’ve thought about these sorts of issues before.  Yesterday, for some reason, I was appreciating the fact that I was able to walk.  But I was reluctant to thank God for that because that would make me ask why there were people in the world who are not able to walk.  Also, I wondered how I could be secure that my current blessings would last.  But why ask why?  I can enjoy the good things that I have now, while they do last.  And, whether I thank God or not, I can tell God about my joys, not only my insecurities and concerns.

3.  Andrew has joined Alcoholics Anonymous, and so he feels a need to make amends to people whom he has harmed.  Early in the series, Andrew accidentally ran over Carlos Solis’ mother, and Andrew and his mother, Bree, have been hiding that from Carlos for years.  Andrew finally tells Carlos what he did, as part of his AA program, and Carlos is livid.  When Bree tries to intercede for Andrew—telling Carlos that Andrew got his alcoholism from her—Andrew says to his Mom that this is between him and Carlos, and that his Mom cannot bail him out forever.  As Bree watches her son and Carlos reconcile from a distance, she tells Gabby that she is proud of her son.  Andrew has come a long way from the conniving, self-centered jerk that he was in the earlier seasons.  I think that Bree expressed a sentiment held by many parents: they want to help their children, and yet they are proud of their children when they take responsibility for their own actions and achieve some measure of independence.

I need to note that not everything is rosy, for, at the end, Carlos ended his friendship with Bree—telling her that neither he, nor his wife, will ever speak to her again.  For Carlos, Andrew was a kid, but Bree was an adult, who was wrong to hide Andrew’s deed from Carlos.  It will probably be a hard road before Carlos forgives Bree, for Carlos loved his “ma-MA.”  But I think that he will eventually do so, for my impression is that he is essentially a good-natured person.

4.  After Carlos learns that Andrew ran over his mother, he tells his wife, Gabby, that she never liked his Mom in the first place—that Gabby always resented his mother’s continual interference.  And one of the episodes in the earlier seasons had a good scene about that: Before Gabby and Carlos got married, they signed a pre-nuptial agreement, as Carlos’ mother stood nearby and supervised the whole event!

But Gabby responded to Carlos that, while she indeed resented the constant interference by Carlos’ mother, she came to understand it after she herself had children (which was not the case when Carlos’ mother was still alive).  Gabby wanted the best for her kids—she desired to protect them—and she realized that this was why Carlos’ mother had interfered so often.  I think that’s part of growth: understanding where someone else is coming from, even when we may not like his or her actions.

In Honor of John Dye

John Dye has passed on, at the young age of 47. I always loved his character of Andrew, the Angel of Death, on Touched by an Angel. He was compassionate and wise—a soothing presence as a person passed from death into the afterlife.

In honor of him, here are links to his first TBAA episode, “The One That Got Away.” I could tell when I first saw it that Andrew was a keeper! Enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Census for the Temple, God’s Speeches in Job, Tabernacle Replacing the Intermediary, Creation and Providence, Baffled by Ghost Whisperer

1.  In Ancient Israelite Religion, I read Carol Meyer’s “David as Temple Builder.”  On page 368, she offers the possibility that David conducted his census to see if he had enough Israelites for corvee labor, which would be for the construction of the temple.  The corvee labor wouldn’t be permanent but would conscript Israelites on a temporary and interim basis, whereas the permanent labor force would consist of non-Israelites.  II Samuel 20:24 refers to a superintendent over the labor force in David’s administration, which Meyers says was probably for temple construction.  She doesn’t believe that the census was for the “augmentation of the military” because Joab and the army opposed it.

If that’s what II Samuel 24 is saying, I wonder what the significance of the altar site at the end of the story would be.  David conducts a census to see if he has enough people to build the temple.  God responds in anger, and David appeases God by setting up an altar in the place that the temple will occupy.  What would the point be here, if Meyers is correct?

2.  In Reading Between Texts, I read Ellen F. Davis’ “Job and Jacob: The Integrity of Faith.”   This was actually an enjoyable essay because it was wrestling with God’s speeches in the Book of Job.  According to Davis, God’s speeches are responding to Job’s assertion that the world should operate according to predictable justice.  God’s response was that the world is bigger than Job and humanity, and that God freely loves people and places, without regard for strict justice.  At the end of the Book, Davis notes, Job actually enjoys his children rather than trying to protect them by appeasing God with sacrifices, as he did at the book’s beginning.  My impression is that Davis ties Jacob into all this because Jacob learned to subsume his ego into a larger purpose, in marked contrast to his earlier selfishness.

I’m not sure what to say about this.  God may freely love the wicked, and that’s why he allows them to persecute and impoverish other people, as Job complains.  Is God showing kindness to the wicked to lead them to repentance?  But how will they repent, if they sense no bad consequences to their actions?  And, if God loves freely, why does he allow natural evil, which Job experienced? 

I think Davis’ thoughts about Job’s changing attitude towards his children as a result of his experiences and encounter with God is a potentially profound point.  But, if the speeches mean what she says, then I’m not entirely satisfied with them, notwithstanding their good points.

3.  In Theodore Mullen’s Ethnic Myths and Pentateuchal Foundations, a footnote on page 259 stood out to me.  Mullen says that, before the construction of the Tabernacle, God communicated with the Israelites via a messenger, Moses.  But the Tabernacle was God’s dwelling place, so it nullified the need for an intermediary figure.  Why have an intermediary, when God is present in Israel’s midst?

I thought about the Golden Calf story as I read this.  The Israelites made the Golden Calf because Moses was absent.  Their leader and intemediary with God was gone, so they made the Calf to fill that void.  In light of that, what would the significance be of God later dwelling in Israel’s midst?

Plus, did the Tabernacle obviate the need for an intermediary between God and Israel?  Some have interpreted Israel’s request for an intermediary as an explanation for the existence of the prophetic office.  The prophetic office existed alongside the Tabernacle.  I wonder what to do with that.

4.  In The Middle Platonists, on page 158, John Dillon refers to Philo’s connection of creation with providence.  What do I mean by this?  Elements of Greek philosophy had problems with the notion that God created the cosmos, preferring to assert that God has eternally sustained his cosmos rather than creating it at a specific point in time.  Philo responds that a denial of creation is a denial of divine providence, for God cares for the cosmos because it’s his handiwork, and “there can be no common bond of interest…between a non-creator and what he has not created.”

But, if my understanding is correct, Philo doesn’t believe that God directly created the cosmos, for he maintains that the Logos did so.  I wonder if Philo addresses the ramifications of a semi-god creating the cosmos to his defense of God as creator.

5.  I’ve been watching Ghost Whisperer.  You know, Ghost Whisperer puzzles me in the same manner as Touched by an Angel.  When I watch Touched by an Angel, I’m baffled that no males are hitting on Monica, for she is so hot!  Similarly, why don’t the male characters on Ghost Whisperer line up to hit on Jennifer Love Hewitt?  It makes no sense!

I realize this post has more questions than answers.  But I’m hungry right now—for food and for Lost.  See you tomorrow!

A Comforting Presence

For my reading of Fishbane yesterday (in Biblical Myth and Rabbinic Mythmaking), I came across three concepts that stood out to me. They’re in rabbinic literature.

1. Exodus 12:41 states that, at the Exodus, “all the hosts of the Lord went out from the land of Egypt.” This probably refers to the Israelites themselves, but Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael Bo’ 14 interprets the “hosts” as angels. That’s most likely because there are biblical passages that present the hosts as such (e.g., I Kings 22:19).

I like the idea of a host of angels going out with the children of Israel when they left Egypt—going out to be with them, to protect them, to guide them. The children of Israel are not alone as they embark upon an unpredictable journey.

I think about the show Touched by an Angel. Tess once said that the people in the story were surrounded by angels. On an episode in which Satan blew up a building, masses of angels of death dressed in white went into the building to escort the casualties to the afterlife.

When I was in Massachussetts, I was faraway from home for the first time in my life, and I was embarking upon an unpredictable journey. I was lonely and depressed. But my Grandma sent me a book that nourished me, Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul. In one of the stories, a man is walking the streets at night, and some dangerous thugs look like they’re going to jump him. But they end up running away instead. The author says that they must’ve seen protecting angels standing behind him. This story has been in my mind as I’ve walked streets at night, which I try to avoid nowadays.

In a cartoon after that story, a man is praying at his bedside, and a couple of angels in T-Shirts that say “Help Squad” (or something like that) rush into the room. The man asked for help, and God immediately sent his angels.

Why are angels popular? Maybe because they give us assurance that we’re not alone.

2. There’s a slight bit of tension within the Bible and rabbinic literature about who delivered the Israelites from Egypt: was it God alone, or one of his angels? When I was at Harvard, someone gave a lecture about Exodus 12: part of the passage says that God himself will go through Egypt and smite the firstborn, whereas another part states that an agent of God (a mashchit, or destroyer) will do so. Jon Levenson saw a theological development here, though I don’t remember in which direction: Was it a movement towards monotheism, removing agents of God so God does the work himself? Or was it a move towards seeing God as so great and removed that he uses agents?

In Exodus 33, the Israelites had just upset God by worshipping the Golden Calf. God says that an angel will lead them to the Promised Land, but he himself will not, for they make him sick. But Moses pleads for God himself to accompany the Israelites. There’s something comforting about angels being with us, but it’s even more reassuring to know that God himself is personally with us, that he cares for us that much.

This reminds me of something I read about St. Augustine. I think it was in one of Philip Yancey’s books. Augustine asked us to imagine if we were to go to heaven and hear that we’d experience eternal bliss, but we’d never be able to see God’s face. According to Yancey, many of our responses would be “Never???”, since we’re relational creatures.

I watched a video about the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ belief about Jesus, and it said that they don’t think people during the millennial reign will actually see Jesus. That sounded like a bummer to me, to tell you the truth! There’s something reassuring about the Protestant belief that we’ll be in heaven with Jesus. As Dauber from Coach said on the Stand, his mom is in heaven, “eating the bread of life with Jesus” (which doesn’t make much sense, since Jesus isn’t eating that bread, but the idea of being with Jesus is comforting).

3. The rabbis said that God was suffering with the Israelites in Egypt, almost as if he himself were enslaved and delivered. I remember a young seminary student praying to God, “When we hurt, you hurt.” And something that often drew me to Christianity was its idea that God became a human being and experienced the same hurt that we do.

Does this solve the problem of theodicy? Not really. God can stop evil anytime he wants, but he doesn’t usually, at least not right now. It’s a mystery why he doesn’t. But the old evangelical mantra of “God will be with you in your suffering” gets me through some rough days.

An Ogre God?

H.L. Strack and Gunter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash: Second Edition, trans. and ed. Markus Bockmuehl (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996) 176.

In Shab 2.6 we read that women die in childbirth…because of three transgressions.

The three transgressions that the Mishnah lists are (in Danbury’s translation) “heedlessness of the laws of the menstruant, the Dough-offering, and the lighting of the [Sabbath] lamp.”

Babylonian Talmud 31b-34a contains an extensive discussion of this passage, or, more accurately, this passage is a launch-pad for other discussions about divine punishment of sin. In some cases, disobedience can hurt not only the sinner, but also the people he loves. For example, Rabbi Nathan said that a man’s wife could die if he failed to pay his vows, and Rabbi stated that his kids could die young.

Modern Christianity is rather mixed about this sort of religion. In the book, Every Man’s Battle, one of the authors said that he feared his sexual immorality was depriving his family of spiritual protection. When I lived in New York, and Tim Keller was on vacation from Redeemer, I visited Times Square Church, pastored by David Wilkerson of The Cross and the Switchblade fame. He emphatically denied that our sins can motivate God to punish the people we love. He referred to the Golden Calf story, in which the Levites kill their own kin, and he seemed to disagree with this portrayal of God (if I understood him correctly; I’m sure he has a high view of biblical inspiration!). I know someone who didn’t participate in communion because she wasn’t sure if she believed in it, and she was afraid that something awful would happen to her family. “I actually believed in that kind of God,” she said, after the communion came and went and nothing had happened to the people she loves.

When I watch Little House on the Prairie, Touched by an Angel, and Highway to Heaven, the message that comes out is that God is not responsible for the horrible things that happen. That may be the “official stance” of modern-day religion. Yet, the fact that it’s repeated so often may indicate that a lot of people feel deep down that misfortune is God’s punishment of people for their sins.

The Scriptures are mixed on this issue. Deuteronomy and Proverbs think that God punishes people’s sins. There are some Psalms like that, except when the Psalmist is baffled about why he has to suffer, being the righteous person that he is. Job presents suffering as a mystery known only to God, yet the story-part narrates that Job suffered because God was testing his faithfulness.

When we get to the New Testament, Jesus denies that a blind man, Galileans killed by Pilate, and the victims of the Tower of Siloam experienced their misfortunes on account of their sins. Yet, he tells a man he heals to sin no more, lest something worse befall him. The Epistle of James connects healing with the forgiveness of sins, implying perhaps his belief that sin causes disease. But other parts of the New Testament present suffering as something that builds Christian character.

Even rabbinic literature can be quite nuanced. Some voices recognized that there are righteous people who suffer and wicked people who prosper. But they are clear that everything will be equalized in the afterlife. According to one tradition, the righteous are receiving punishment for their few sins in this life, so that they can have an eternity of bliss in the afterlife. And the wicked are getting it easy in this life, so that they’ll get loads of punishment in the afterlife. So things are ultimately fair, the rabbis believed.

Much of religion is an attempt to control life. Many of us believe that the existence of an omnipotent God should make life a little more predictable, or hopeful. That’s why we pray for healing of ourselves or our loved ones, or a promotion at work, or a wife or husband.

And is this wrong? Skeptics like to point out that religionists try to have it both ways: when good things happen, we’re supposed to attribute that to God. Maybe he’s blessing us out of his free grace, or he’s rewarding us. But when bad things happen, we say that God is not at fault. But isn’t God powerful enough to stop bad things from happening? Can there be meaningless suffering in a universe where God exists?

Something else about the Mishnah passage: What I like about it is that it says people should honor God. It’s not really talking about someone who has issues with faith and chooses to sit out of communion, but rather a person who rejects God’s order. Someone who doesn’t say “thank you” to God by giving a dough offering is being ungrateful, period. Of course, in that culture, probably everyone believed in God, meaning there weren’t people who said, “Well, why should I give my dough? How do we even know this God exists?” So people were most likely withholding their dough from a God they believed in, and that was selfish.

But should we honor God with the mindset that he is some kind of ogre, eager to strike us down when we do something wrong? I can understand that there should be consequences for sin. Can one believe in this, without viewing God as an ogre?

Unequally Yoked on Eli Stone

Many evangelicals believe that Christians shouldn’t date or marry non-Christians. They call this being “unequally yoked.” Touched by an Angel did an episode on this topic, which starred Wynonna Judd. Wynonna was a God-believer, and she was about to marry an agnostic. The angels helped put a stop to that!

Personally, I didn’t really understand the concept until I watched last night’s Eli Stone. Eli Stone is a lawyer who has visions from God, and that has led him to make radical moves on behalf of the oppressed and disenfranchised, plus he no longer kisses up to the rich and powerful. For a while, the head of the firm, Jordan Wethersby, wasn’t too enthusiastic about Eli’s activity, since his firm made money off of, well, the rich and the powerful. But, during this season, he has embraced Eli’s righteous crusade, and he is open to the idea that Eli receives revelations from God.

It’s been a hard walk for Wethersby, and that was topped off yesterday when his wife left him. His wife couldn’t live with the new Jordan. They were going in entirely different directions. They were unequally yoked. Jordan didn’t necessarily want his wife to leave, the same way that Christians usually shouldn’t be the ones who initiate divorce with their non-Christian spouse (which is how I understand Paul in I Corinthians 7). But Jordan following the right path inevitably led to their split-up.

Where am I on this issue right now? Personally, I’m not too sure I’d want to be married to a fundamentalist evangelical who loves the Lord, since I have problems loving the Lord right now. I’m hesitant to marry an atheist, however, because I may get to the point where I do love the Lord, and I wouldn’t want to find myself unequally yoked at that time.

Joan of Arcadia, Season 3

I’m posting this so I’ll have access to it anytime I want. You know how bookmarks can get pretty crowded!

It’s Joan of Arcadia Virtual Season 3. As many of you know, Joan of Arcadia was cancelled after its second season. I don’t like the story being left hanging, so I’d like to read some effort to continue it. Granted, season 3 is not the work of those who actually wrote the series, but people in the general public can be creative and insightful, too.

At the end of season 2, we’re introduced to a new character who also hears from God, yet he’s not exactly good. The show’s writers called him evil, but that’s not really what I see. “God” did not label him “evil” but acknowledged that he did some pretty good things. For example, he rescued Joan’s ex-boyfriend, Adam (whom I don’t care for as a character, but that’s another story).

This character has issues with God. I’m not sure if he’s mad at him, or if he just likes to play games. He said God is a good debater, and he called Joan a worthy opponent. He’s taken over a local newspaper, a group that monitors the police, and the school board, plus he’s quite charismatic. And he may be the guy who’s been vandalizing local houses of worship.

God tells Joan that he (God) has been preparing her for this serious conflict, and he hints that her goofy friends may be instrumental in helping her defeat evil, or amorality, or whatever the new villain represents. And so we see the biblical motif of God using the base elements of the world to do his righteous will.

Shows about spirituality often touch on evil, since they probably feel that they have too. And it can get pretty cheesy. I can think of some pretty bad Touched by an Angel episodes that did this (e.g., bad Monica, “ooh, the light show!”). So maybe this “season 3″ of Joan of Arcadia will be good, and maybe it will not. It will be interesting to read!

UPDATE: MShaffer suggested another virtual season 3 link: mshaffer.livejournal.com/767.html

FOT 2008, Day 6

My posts yesterday, FOT 2008, Day 5 and An Addendum on God Working Things Out, had some Feast of Tabernacles themes: this life is a temporary dwelling, and we rely on God in the midst of it all.

The temporary dwelling part is more Armstrongite than Jewish, and it’s based on biblical passages that treat the human body as a tabernacle for the soul, or (for Armstrongites) spirit (John 1:14; II Corinthians 5:1-4). Leviticus 23:42-43 views the Feast as a commemoration of Israel’s sojourn in the wilderness, right after the Exodus: “You shall live in booths for seven days; all that are citizens in Israel shall live in booths, so that your generations may know that I made the people of Israel live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God” (NRSV).

Israel was supposed to be in the wilderness for a temporary amount of time, before she entered the Promised Land. Through that duration, she was completely dependant on God, who fed and protected his chosen people. Jews today do not put a roof over their sukkot, but they leave themselves vulnerable to the rain, reminding themselves of their absolute dependence on God. For Christians, the land of Canaan symbolizes the rest that all believers will one day receive, presumably in the afterlife. This implies that this life is our wilderness experience. We are in a temporary dwelling, and it is rough, the same way that the wilderness was hard for the Israelites. But we trust in God and hope for something better.

I remember a Touched by an Angel episode in which Montel Williams plays a cult leader, Brother David. Cynthia Nixon of Sex and the City fame plays a lonely young woman named Melina, who gets sucked into the cult. Before she hooks up with Brother David, Melina’s life seems to be going nowhere. She wants to have kids, but her ex-boyfriend doesn’t. She looks for a job that involves working with children, but she gets stuck with telemarketing instead. As she pursues a better life, she gets sucked into Brother David’s cult, and he takes a special interest in her.

At the end, Brother David asks everyone to drink poison grape juice so they can be together in heaven, where (in his delusional mind) he will sit at God’s right hand, as Melina sits at his. Melina thinks that everything finally makes sense: no wonder she never fit in on earth! She wasn’t meant to be here. She’s supposed to be in her heavenly home, with Brother David. But Monica (the angel) persuades her that she’s to stay on earth through the tough times, relying on God to see her through.

For some reason, we’re on this planet. Of course we’re supposed to be here! We’re here, right? God wouldn’t arrange things that way if they weren’t part of his plan. And we’re here to build character. Israel was in the wilderness so that she’d become humble, learn to obey God’s commandments, and depend on God for her provision (Deuteronomy 8). In the Promised Land, she could easily forget God in her prosperity (vv 17-19), so God gave her the Feast of Tabernacles to remind her where she came from, as well as to celebrate her prosperity as a gift from him. And the festival can perform a similar function for Christians.

ACTS in Prayer

I’m reading Victor Kuligin’s Ten Things I Wish Jesus Never Said. On some level, it’s like Hard Sayings of Jesus and Hard Sayings of the New Testament: it tries to explain away Jesus’ really difficult sayings (e.g., hate your parents, cut off your arm, pluck out your eyes, etc.). At the same time, after I read Kuligin’s explanations, my reaction usually was: “So that’s what Jesus wants us to do? That sounds so hard! I don’t want to do that.” Living a Christian life can be pretty challenging, even if we don’t take all of Jesus’ commands literally.

Kuligin really convicted me on prayer. So much of my prayer life consists of grumbling against God. Of course, I meditate on Scripture too, and there are times when God uses that to transform my attitude. For example, I was recently walking in the blistering heat, and I was complaining to God about my sad, sorry life. Then, my mind turned to Luke 9:49-50, in which the disciples tell Jesus about someone who was casting out demons in Jesus’ name. That man was not a part of their group, so they were wondering whether or not to stop him. Jesus responded, “Do not stop him; for whoever is not against you is for you” (NRSV).

Jesus wanted people to be free from oppression. Being inhabited by a demon is not fun, I’m sure! I learned that from a Touched by an Angel episode, “The Occupant.” It’s even scarier on The Exorcist! And Jesus welcomed someone who joined him in releasing people from all that. The disciples were thinking about their group: who was on the inside, and who was on the outside. Jesus was thinking about other people. He wanted them to be free–clothed and in their right minds (Mark 5:15; Luke 8:35).

I’m glad God used that passage to communicate Jesus’ character to me. But my prayers are still pretty selfish! I can glorify Jesus now that I see something glorious about him, but a huge part of me sees my quiet times as a form of self-medication, or as a way to become smarter, or as a means of entertainment.

And there’s nothing wrong with that, since the Psalmist expressed pleasure in studying God’s word. But I shouldn’t see myself solely as a God-consumer. “God, I’m dissatisfied with you because my life is this way! Why’d you allow me to be born with Asperger’s? I’m putting down ‘dissatisfied’ on my customer service survey!” “Okay, I’m here, Lord. Feed me, feed me, feed me! I want to be inspired! Some entertainment will help, too. And I’d also like some good ideas for my blog. Gimmee, gimmee, gimmee!”

In his prayer life, Kuligin uses an approach called ACTS: Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication. He states:

“ACTS…helps me to admit I am a sinner. I do not come to God with demands, calling him to task when he does not respond in the way I have predetermined. Instead, I come recognizing I am a beggar in need of mercy, grace, and guidance. When I make my confession before God, I admit my spiritual destitution and poverty. Without such an attitude, we can hardly expect God to answer our arrogant prayers. We must profess our dependance on him. Only then is his ear attentive to our petitions and requests” (217).

I heard of ACTS before. I once attended an evangelical Bible study, and we were praying within the ACTS paradigm. It seemed so artificial! I wanted to pray from the heart, not conform to a rigid pattern. Plus, the person in the group who proposed this model went on to become an atheist. “So much for empty formality,” I thought.

And, for a while, ACTS will probably be a formality to me, without a whole lot of feeling accompanying it. For some time in my prayer life, I tried to use a pattern: I’d thank God for three things, pray for three people, and make three supplications. But I eventually stopped doing that. It seemed like a ritual.

But, now, I find that I complain too much in my prayers. I don’t adore God that much. ACTS may be what I need to do in my prayers. Sure, there’s a place for speaking from my heart, but I also should get my mind off myself, once in a while.

As far as “confession” goes, I probably won’t do it the way most Christians think I should: confess a sin, and then stop doing it. Would be that I could erase pride, lust, hatred, greed, and unforgiveness from my mind! But I can confess to God that my condition is fallen and that I need his help to change. I am a beggar, after all! And that’s much better than me acting as if I’m above God, as if I’m in a position to dictate to him what he should do.

TBAA: Til Death Do Us Part

Today, I saw an episode of Touched by an Angel that I hadn’t seen before. It was about a rancher who committed suicide.

Why did he do that? I guess he was just plain tired of living. He had turned 40, and he felt he had nothing to show for his life.

Andrew (the angel of death) tried to reason with him. He told him that God created everyone and everything for a purpose, even if we don’t know right now or tomorrow or the next day what that purpose is. The rancher did some farming, so he should know better than anyone that life takes time. And Andrew informed the rancher that his wife had breast cancer, meaning she needed his support now more than ever.

Well, the rancher told Andrew, “You’ve given me things to think about,” then he shot himself while Andrew was walking away. When the rancher’s wife was trying to make sense of the suicide, Andrew told her: “You know, I’ve been an angel for a long time, and one thing that continues to astound me about you humans is not that a few of you give up on life, but that most of you keep going on. Life is so hard, and yet so many of you get up every morning, believing that each day is a new day. There’s some hope inside of you that keeps you going.“

And, indeed, there is. There is some notion within us (or at least me) that things can get better. Or, at the very least, we keep on going because there are people who love and care about us, and maybe even need us.