This is a cool project; video testimonies from Jewish people who have become Christian believers. I first saw Mottel Baleston’s testimony on FB, and then clicked the link to the website… Listening to their testimonies is such a fantastic experience, encouraging in many ways because it shows how God can work through really, really strange way means to reveal the Truth to people.
Intellectual Phase-Locking: A condition that results when dogmatic assumptions inhibit inquiry.
I could listen to this guy, Dr. Rupert Sheldrake, all day long. His classic British accent & professorial manner make listening to him almost a pleasure. It doesn’t hurt a bit that what he has to say makes so much sense. In this first video he puts to words many of the things about modern science that have bothered me for ages. I think he’s my new hero.
… modern science is based on the principal of ‘Give us one free miracle and we’ll explain the rest.’ The one free miracle is the appearance of all the matter and energy in the universe, and all the laws that govern it from nothing in a single instant.
Sheldrake gave the talk in the video above in January, 2013. TED posted it on its website, but in subsequent months TED received some complaints about some of the things he had to say, and pulled the video off of its main site (or as Dr. Sheldrake put it, “put in the bad little boys section of the TED website.”) It’s still available, not really “banned” as some say, just more difficult to find. Reading through the complaints brought against him and his responses makes it look like he hit some tender nerves, and might be onto something. It’s easy to see why more traditional scientists would have a problem with what he says; if he’s right, then they are very wrong on a lot of fronts. (Makes me wonder what my old buddy TF would think of him… Pretty sure I don’t even have to ask!)
Some of what he talks about, like “morphic resonance” I’ve never heard of before, and I don’t know how much evidence there is behind it, but it sounds interesting. And if there’s any truth to it, the implications it would have on scientific thought would be profound. For many years I’ve questioned the belief that instinctive behaviors in the animal kingdom came about by trial and error with one line that tends to do something a little bit better than another line and passes that tendency on to its offspring. Behaviors seem to be far too complex for that to be plausible, no matter how many billions of years it might have taken.
Even if one dismisses the belief that animal behavior & physical traits came about through evolutionary selection, instead believes that those traits were designed by an outside intelligence (God), it’s still difficult to accept that the behaviors & traits are genetically encoded. A collective consciousness that spans space and time and does not exist at the genetic level starts to make sense.
And the possibility of thought happening somewhere outside of the physical brain lends credence to the idea of a soul living on after the body is dead and decayed. But of course, proving any of that to those who subscribe to a more classical view of science will be more than just a bit difficult, so I predict Sheldrake will continue to be a pariah. I’m not very familiar with Sheldrake’s work and thought, so I’m not sure whether he considers himself a Christian or not, but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he is. (more…)
Can’t say I’ve ever heard Icelandic folk music before, but after hearing this beautiful song, sung a cappella (by the group Arstidir) in a cavernous subway in Germany, I think I’m hooked. Now I just need to learn a little Icelandic.
The song in the video is “Heyr Himna Smiður”. It was originally written as a poem by Kolbeinn Tumason in 1208, while on his deathbed (the story of his death is sad and tragic.) The melody that accompanies the text was written by Þorkell Sigurbjörnsson, over 700 years later. With a hat tip to the contributors at Wikipedia, “the original text is presented here with 19th-century Icelandic spelling and a rough, literal translation into English.” The translation is a beautiful psalm to the Lord God; it could’ve been penned by King David himself. But I have no doubt the poem is even more lyrical when spoken in the original language.
|Heyr, himna smiður,
hvers skáldið biður.
Komi mjúk til mín
Því heit eg á þig,
þú hefur skaptan mig.
Eg er þrællinn þinn,
þú ert drottinn minn.
Guð, heit eg á þig,
Gæt þú, mildingur, mín,
|Listen, smith of the heavens,
what the poet asks.
May softly come unto me
So I call on thee,
for thou hast created me.
I am thy slave,
thou art my Lord.
God, I call on thee
Watch over me, mild one,
* or mild king. This is a pun on the word mildingur.
I’ve known members of Ken’s family much longer than I’ve known him, so it feels like I’ve known him forever. In reality though it’s only been about 15 years or so. Ken is a few years my senior, and has been retired longer than we’ve been acquainted. He’s not exactly an official mentor, but he has mentored me on many levels, usually unintentionally. Such a great guy; quiet, humble, honest… Seems like they don’t make men like anymore, or at least not as often.
Ken’s mesothelioma diagnosis came long before I was diagnosed with DLBCL, but we somehow ended up on the same rotation for chemotherapy; I counted him as my chemo-buddy. Mesothelioma is a much different and more aggressive cancer than DLBCL, and his fight was simply for a little more time; there is no cure, and the chemo only slowed its advance until it outsmarted the drugs. He had explored lots of treatment options in the last few months at Sanford Cancer Center and at Mayo Clinic, but the doctors said there was little more they could do for him and he wouldn’t likely see Christmas. I really hate it when they are that right.
The last time I saw Ken was two weeks ago this Sunday; Ken was admitted to the hospital a week earlier, and Yvonne and I stopped to visit, staying much longer than we had intended. I’m glad we had that time with him. Ken looked good that day, alert but a bit sleepy from the drugs helping to control his pain. The cancer had spread to his abdomen and had formed several tumors which were collecting fluid and causing a lot of pain. He and Harriet were so grateful for and hospitable to every visitor; the embodiment of graciousness. The strange thing was that only three weeks earlier at our last chemo session he looked great and was in no pain at all. That was five weeks ago, and today he’s gone. I just can’t wrap my head around that.
But Ken was well grounded in his faith in Jesus Christ, and there’s no doubt he’s in a better place now, free of pain and worshiping at the Throne. It’s hard though, knowing I won’t see him again, and knowing how difficult this will be for his family. Still, I envy him just a little… But I know it’s not my turn yet; God still has a job for me here, so I wait patiently for him to call me home, and try to become what he wants me to be.
Today was the day for my appointment with the oral surgeon, and we’re finally getting some answers, if not some relief. Initially they did a panoramic x-ray, but that didn’t show much of anything, so Dr. Miller ordered a 3D CT image. After having a look at that and a peek inside my mouth, he told us that what I had was likely a brown tumor;
The brown tumor is a bone lesion that arises in settings of excess osteoclast activity, such as hyperparathyroidism. It is not a true neoplasm, as the term “tumor” suggests; however, it may mimic a true neoplasm.
Brown tumours consist of fibrous tissue, woven bone and supporting vasculature, but no matrix. The osteoclasts consume the trabecular bone that osteoblasts lay down and this front of reparative bone deposition followed by additional resorption can expand beyond the usual shape of the bone, involving the periosteum thus causing bone pain. The characteristic brown coloration results from hemosiderin deposition into the osteolytic cysts. Hemosiderin deposition is not a distinctive feature of brown tumors; it may also be seen giant cell tumors of the bone.
Well, the pathology sure seems to fit my situation; the front of reparative bone deposition has been expanding the bone around those teeth enough to shove the teeth around to where they should not be, and making life miserable for me. The doc is reasonably sure that’s the deal, but only a biopsy will tell for sure, and that’s scheduled for next Monday. And the great part of the biopsy is that they’ll remove the tumor/lesion/whatever it is, but I’ll probably lose a couple of teeth in the process. Great. And I don’t even get to keep them, which is really too bad because I’ll probably need to get dental implants later on, and it would just make so much sense to use them for the implants… The assistant told me they are considered a biohazard, so they go to the incinerator. Too bad.
When the tumor is removed, there will likely be a sizable gap left behind; a variety of materials will be used to fill it in, and with time the other teeth ought to migrate back to their original positions. Eating will be easier, but not back to normal because of the missing teeth; later, after things heal up, and I can afford it, the option of implant-supported crowns is there. And I’ll look a bit trailer-park-ish with the missing teeth, but the fact that it’s most likely non-cancerous is enough to make me very, very thankful. I can live with trailer-park-ish; radiation & chemo therapy… I’ll pass, thanks.
Now I just need to figure out how to make it through the next few days and nights; eating will still be a challenge, but oatmeal and other soft foods aren’t all bad. The surest path to a good night’s sleep that I’ve found is two Vicoden, two ibuprofen, and my SleepRight Dental Guard. My mouth still hurts like crazy when I wake up, but things look so much better after a good restful night. Knowing that it’s not cancer, and knowing there is light at the end of the tunnel is huge. After last Thursday I was praying & hoping for the best, but bracing for the worst. I know God is good — all the time — and he will see me through whatever comes, but I still worried about my ability to cope. This won’t be an easy path, but I have some hope.
I went to a funeral for friend this afternoon. He died at age 55. A month or so ago I attended the funeral for a guy I hung out with in high school; he died at 50. I still feel like I’m too young to be burying people that are close to my own age, but I guess it’s a natural part of life. Our bodies aren’t meant to last forever, at least not our earthly bodies. Our heavenly bodies… Now that’s another story altogether.
I don’t know when it started, and I don’t know if I’m the only one with this problem, but at funerals I often catch myself being slightly envious of the one who has passed away… That should probably be qualified a bit more; envious of fellow Christians who have passed away. Envious because I know (if only just a little) the glory they enjoy after leaving this life behind. Meanwhile I’m still stuck in this aging old tent. Our bodies, like tents, aren’t made to last for ever nor for long-term habitation. Try as I might, mine will only last another 40 years or so longer, tops (probably less.) But I have consolation that as this body moves toward its end, a new life is developing that will one day be fully realized in the presence of my Lord:
So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Although I am admittedly anxious to get to that celebration, I have no intention of hastening my date with eternity. I am content with God’s plan for my life, whether His exit plan for me involves a fatal run-in with a cement truck tomorrow, or a long convalescence through my 70’s or 80’s or 90’s… I’ll live the rest of my days in gratitude for the blessings He’s sent my way, especially for the loving wife and great kids that I so don’t deserve.
But still there’s that, something… that envy that makes me long for the things to come. It’s a hope for things to come; not a hope, as in “I hope it will happen”, but a hope as in something that is sure, yet is just out of reach and will arrive at a time I don’t know. As C.S. Lewis so aptly put it,
We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we wanted before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are, this is. If we lose this, we lose all.
That’s right; while I am, this — that built-in longing for what has been promised and will be — just is. I can’t wait for Heaven, but I will.
This last summer, the adult fellowship/Sunday school class we attend went through The Truth Project, which is a 13 lesson, DVD-based program taught by Dr. Del Tackett that helps to equip believers with a comprehensive biblical worldview.
The Truth Project is a great program, but one of the really striking things is the kid that’s featured in many of the interviews in the program, identified only as “Kyle, age 13.” Kyle has some funny affectations in his speech, but what stands out is his answers to the questions; he seems wise beyond his years, giving answers that would be more likely to come from a college professor than a 13 year old kid.
Turns out that Kyle is actually Kyle West, a kid with cerebral palsey, has some special giftedness, and has been used by God to teach so-called normal people some things about our worth in the sight of God that should be evident, but are often missed. Here are a few videos produced by CrossExamine.com that feature Kyle and his story; a very amazing story.
Today is Reformation Day, the day we celebrate Martin Luther’s nailing his 95 theses to the door of the palace church in Wittenberg, Germany. It was done on this date in 1517. He didn’t intend to spark a reformation of the church, only to address some serious wrongs in the Roman Catholic church of his day. But as a former Roman Catholic who has become a born again believer, I’m grateful that Luther did spark that revolution.
It seems to me ironic and interesting that Halloween & Reformation Day are celebrated on the same day. Halloween has in recent times morphed into a celebration of the occult, witchcraft and all that is dark. Reformation Day celebrates the courageous action of Martin Luther, one who is said to have battled demons throughout his life, and the author of one of my favorite hymnsA Mighty Fortress Is Our God.
Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back—in many ways it is a feast fit for a king.
The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.
Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC
So very true. I see many people who harbor huge grudges against others, and those grudges only harm the one who carry them. And I do the same. I’ve been dealing with some bitterness lately, but I’m the one who is getting poisoned by that bitterness. Unfortunately, that poison has spilled over and also affected my family… Innocent parties in the whole deal, and totally undeserving of the harm I caused.
This all came up in a conference at our church this weekend, Freedom in Christ. One of the things that was discussed at length was the necessity of forgiving people who have wronged us because, as Buechner said so eloquently, anger and bitterness and grudges and chips on the shoulder harm the angry, bitter, grudge & chip carrier much more than the people at whom those nasty thoughts are directed. I’m happy to report that I’ve forgiven some people that I should have forgiven a long time ago, and the freedom I feel from granting that forgiveness is… truly refreshing.
Wonder is the basis of worship. Worship is transcendent wonder.
— Thomas Carlyle
Worship can never be a performance… [but] an overflow of your heart.
— Matt Redman
Express the same delight in God which made David dance.
— C.S. Lewis