Words Matter

The Smartest Investment Post You’ll Ever Read

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Victor Chininin Buele

Back when Borders was still in existence, you would often see a couple of books in the bargain section. They were marketed as The Smartest [Investment, Money, 401(k)] Book You’ll Ever Read. I thought they promised too much and delivered too little. Otherwise, we would be full of millionaires who stole the books at a bargain price.

I woke up this morning to read two very different things. One was on NPR. ICE announced that foreign students in the United States enrolled in a college or university that decides to meet online next fall will be required to go back to their place of origin or transfer to a school that doesn’t meet online. I’m currently doing graduate work, and our school is planning to start with on campus classes so long as it is safe to do so but always with the possibility of switching back to online mode as needed. What does that mean for one of my beloved classmates, barely making it financially but happily and purposefully investing in the future? Will he need to go back to India? How is he going to raise the funds to go back? Will he ever get to come back? How do I process this?

Then, I opened my LinkedIn account and read a message from somebody very special and greatly appreciated by me. She has retired after 32 years serving at Northwest Missouri State University. So, I decided to do one of the things the title of this site promises. All of Life. Under the Sovereign. Happily. Yes, happily. Lest I fall short of my site’s explicit and implicit promises like those investment books, let me switch your attention for a moment from the political reality and the emotional consequences of it. Let me turn your attention to a story.

We can spend our lives arguing about immigration or racism or inequality, or we can do something about it.

And that is what this very distinguished professor did for 32 years.

I was a stranger. I had been in the country for perhaps six months. I came and had to hit the ground running. I had to learn all the English I could as fast as humanly possible. I was informed that I was too late, that the ACT admission exams were just around the corner. I was told that scholarships were all dependent upon this very important score. And to top the stress, I learned my classmates had been taking and retaking this test to improve their scores since their sophomore year. Things were not looking very good.

My calculus, physics, and English teachers invested a lot in me to help me get ready for college in record time. My band teachers became my parents, let me move in to their basement and welcomed all my clumsiness. My grandpa’s old typewriter was put to use for my applications and essays. I ran out of ink on that thing so fast. I do not remember how many applications I must have filled out, and how many of those resulted in simple rejection letters. Just to give you an idea of how far and wide I cast my net, the Maryville Business and Professional Women actually gave me a scholarship. I went with my mom to the dinner where they awarded the scholarship. How does an Ecuadorian young man get such a scholarship? Well, God has a good sense of humor.

I am not going to lie. There is only so far that you can go with your youthful pride and motivation. I was about to call it quits. Things were not looking good. The money just wasn’t there to be able to afford college.

And then one evening the phone rang, and my dad said it was for me. I was not expecting to receive any phone calls. He told me it was this professor from Northwest. I got so nervous that I held the phone upside down, and I couldn’t hear anything and kept trying to say hello to no response. Until I figured out that the phone was upside down, that is.

I was offered a scholarship from the computer science department that evening. Not a huge one, mind you. It was far from a made-for-TV movie plot. But it was the tipping point. And it changed things for me. The music department came shortly behind with some more money. I would become a Bearcat.

I loved it. It was the American dream coming true. I made friends. I loved the school, my professors, my classmates, my band, my piano (I got to play a Steinway!!! Way fancier than the old Petrof or the Yamaha from Room 17 in the SBC Conservatory from Loja, which is still very dear to me, of course). But the aftermath of Y2K and the globalization of IT were just starting to emerge. I had no time to notice such world changing events. I was too busy working like crazy, making it to band practice, practicing for my piano lessons, writing computer programs, and trying to get some sleep somewhere in there.

Outsourcing after Y2K resulted in the closing of many computer shops in the four state region. And with that came the tightening of anything that could be helpful to an international student. Scholarship money dried up. Internships disappeared. Jobs disappeared. It was no longer that I wouldn’t be able to get a job. Many, many computer engineers, programmers, and others lost their jobs. Things were just not looking good.

All along the way, the professor had been incredibly kind and helpful to me. I was welcomed in the department with open arms. I had every opportunity to grow and develop and contribute. But very soon, the clock was starting to run out. Graduation loomed in the horizon. I had no prospects for employment, and everything seemed like a lost cause. I had placed my bet, and it was time.

That day, I lost it. And who got stuck listening to my twenty-year-old self whine and complain and be angry at all of this? This wonderful professor. If I were to ever say that I was heard, it would be in this conversation. I received sound advice, I received encouragement, and I received a solid dose of reality. I was presented with a choice. I wasn’t manipulated or forced or made to feel guilty. I was given the data, and I had to choose. Would I move forward and finish the race? Or would I drop out and admit defeat in advance?

Did I mention that I ran out of money, and that things were not looking good? I was awarded a prestigious scholarship from one of the most important companies in Kansas City. I knew from the start that they would not be able to hire me due to immigration restrictions after Y2K and the massive layoffs in the metro area. I did not want to apply. I thought it was a lost cause. But I was advised to apply regardless. And I did. And I received that great distinction. I was taught a very valuable lesson by this professor, far beyond the database skills I use daily (Did I mention that I taught a seminar just today at work on how our payment engine uses SQL and the database?) and far beyond all the wonderful professional development advice I was given over the years. The lesson was that, I don’t think she ever put it like this, but this is what I got from it: You’re going to be told No a lot. It matters a great deal what you do with the No afterwards. And it is most important to not tell yourself No and not even try.

I do not know how many people she must have called for me, how many recommendation letters she must have written for me. I do not know all that she did behind the scenes. But I know I was greatly blessed by all of this.

You see, I wasn’t different to her. I wasn’t a minority to her. I wasn’t a Latino boy that went to her class. I was her student. Just like every other one. And I felt it and knew it. It made a huge difference.

One day, I recall being late for something, riding my bicycle, and hearing from her that I needed to go home and get ready for a mock interview. So I did. I turned around, rode as fast as I could back to the apartment, put on my suit, and rode right back to Colden Hall.

There I had an appointment that would change my life. The man she introduced me to was doing his job, pretending to interview me, like he was supposed to do. But something changed during the interview. Something I had done. Something I was studying. Something I knew. And I knew something changed in that moment, and sixteen years later, I am a principal technical consultant at the company where this man is a vice president of software development now. I have traveled the world and had the privilege of working with men and women of so many backgrounds and countries and languages. I have had the privilege of working with some of the world’s greatest banks and retailers.

She never stopped encouraging me to press forward. She never stopped encouraging me to study and overcome the odds. Even when I failed that database systems final because I had to record some music tracks for a friend (and some much needed cash) the night before.

She helped me help others as well, long after my days in the classroom.

I am thankful for her. I am honored to have had the privilege of studying under her. But most importantly, I have always enjoyed and delighted in seeing what it is like to do something about the evils of our day. And that is an encouragement to me to make the world a better place, every day, from my corner of the world.

May we not waste our lives merely talking instead of rolling up our sleeves and defeating the challenges of our day.

The Great Persuader?

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Victor Chininin Buele

One of the most important books that I read during the aftermath of the last presidential election was Scott Adams’ Win Bigly. Scott Adams makes the argument that Donald Trump is a master persuader. And he, trained hypnotist that he is, walks us through a plausible explanation for Donald Trump’s hold on people that resulted in his rise to the office of the President of the United States. Adams argues that everything serves a purpose: the third-grade playground “nickname” insults given to his competition, the lies (truthful hyperbole from The Art of the Deal). Some quotes to let the man himself speak:

If you have ever tried to talk someone out of their political beliefs by providing facts, you know it doesn’t work. That’s because people think they have their own facts. Better facts. And if they know they don’t have better facts, they change the subject. People are not easily switched from one political opinion to another. And facts are weak persuasion. So Trump ignores facts whenever they are inconvenient. I know you don’t want to think this works in terms of persuasion. But it does.

People are more influenced by the direction of things than the current state of things.

Facts don’t matter. What matters is how you feel. And when you watch Trump and Pence fight and scratch to keep jobs in this country, it changes how you will feel about them for their entire term. This is a big win for Trump/ Pence disguised as a small win.

If you want the audience to embrace your content, leave out any detail that is both unimportant and would give people a reason to think, That’s not me. Design into your content enough blank spaces so people can fill them in with whatever makes them happiest.

What mattered was that people saw Trump agree with them on an emotional dimension—that immigration was a big problem that needs fixing. Once he agreed with voters on an emotional level, he was free to tweak the details of his policies, and people followed him.

Whenever there is mass confusion and complexity, people automatically gravitate to the strongest, most confident voice. We humans don’t like uncertainty, so we are attracted to those who offer clarity and simple answers, even if the answers are wrong or incomplete.

Trump used his mastery of the news cycle to create the impression that he was the most important person running for president, even if you hated him.

If you are trying to get a decision from someone who is on the fence but leaning in your direction, try a “fake because” to give them “permission” to agree with you. The reason you offer doesn’t need to be a good one. Any “fake because” will work when people are looking for a reason to move your way.

Another important book I read was Amanda Carpenter’s Gaslighting America: Why We Love It When Trump Lies to Us. She shows a pattern of behavior that we can use to trace back through many of the big media events mediated by the President’s Twitter account and see the gaslighting at work. She herself was gaslighted by the campaign while live on CNN as one of Ted Cruz’s supposed extramarital affairs.

The benefit of embracing the lie ultimately outweighs the sacrifice required to cling to the truth. Sometimes, more often than we’d like to admit, lies are easier to believe than the truth. Especially in politics.

He learned that people actually love it when he lies. He loves it because he gets stories about his prowess—whether it be sexual, business, or political—in the press. The media loves it because it keeps people reading the papers, watching their shows, and clicking their links. And his enemies love it because they keep thinking that this time will really, finally, truly be the time Trump does himself in with his jaw-dropping yarns. We’re all suckers.

Questioning everything is exhausting.

You may hate his lies, but Trump sells them with unshakable confidence. He forces us to pay attention. Trump even keeps those who don’t believe, as he has said, “in suspense.” We are a captive audience, living in constant anticipation of his next move.

You see, when Trump is gaslighting, he rarely tells an outright lie. When pressed, he avoids specifics but keeps everyone chattering away with speculation on the topic.

This is the pattern Carpenter observes:

STAKE A CLAIM: Trump finds a political issue or action that competitors are unwilling to adopt and that will ensure a media frenzy. Such as: “President Obama is not a U.S. citizen.”
ADVANCE AND DENY: Trump casts the issue into the public realm without taking direct responsibility. He does this by raising questions about or discussing what other people are saying, reporting, or thinking. Tabloids, YouTube videos, tweets from unknown origins, and unverifiable Internet news stories are often used as sources.
CREATE SUSPENSE: He says evidence is forthcoming that will soon get to the truth of the matter. Trump can remain in this mode for weeks, months, or even years.
DISCREDIT THE OPPONENT: If critics gain traction, Trump attacks their motives and personal character.
WIN: Trump declares victory, no matter the circumstances. This step usually takes a long time to reveal itself, and Trump will often engage it when he is ready to drop the matter.

Can either one of them actually prove they are right? No. They can’t. This is an important point. And neither can I. And in some sort of super sick and weird way, that is precisely the point.

That’s the allure of this situation. People are super convinced that Trump is a liar and the worst scum of the earth or the most hard-working, accomplished president. Disgusting or hero. Satan or Messiah. Either he is complete trash or the King set in place by the Lord God Almighty. That’s the polarization we go through. And the thing is that somehow, as I’ve said before, if you squint your eyes and tilt your head 72 degrees counterclockwise… Confirmation bias abounds.

But either way, we follow his agenda. He controls us. We talk about what he wants us to be talking about. I find it absolutely fascinating, like a sociological experiment at a massive scale, that Democrats cannot make any headway with their agenda but are constantly responding to Trump’s tweets. Tantrums. Whatever you call them. And the Republicans have given over their platform entirely over to the President at the price of some judges, a couple of justices, and who knows what else. Trump wins. The media loves it because it fuels our interest in them through this. And don’t think I mean just CNN or Fox. There are all sorts of other opportunists there ready to capitalize in our ever-thirsty desire to engage with the crazy! It is obvious that the massive amount of content produced by trolls and bots is shaping discourse—I doubt people had a ready copy of Bill Clinton’s picture while he was holding a Bible back in the day. Some of the phrasing in what I see in people’s feeds, I know did not originate with them. It came from elsewhere.

We are facing a battle of manipulation. And we are at the center of it. And we love it! But nobody is actually talking about what we need to do to truly move forward. And that is because we are all still too enamored with our flesh.

I don’t think Trump is a master persuader, I believe he is.

What? Precisely that. It’s a walking contradiction wrapped in an enigma. I don’t think he is smart enough or wise enough to the degree Adams gives to him. I don’t think that there is a master plan, or even a plan. But because I know how big of a sinner I am (iOS keeps autocorrecting that to winner), I know he is a master persuader because these things work. I know this stuff works on us because we, like Trump, care about ourselves the most. I find it is entirely plausible to assert that he doesn’t care about you, your faith, your religious freedom, aborted children, the second amendment, your convictions, Covid-19, Dr. Fauci, international relations, the national debt, the future of the Supreme Court, police abuses, racial tensions, polarization. He does not. He cares about himself, and that is why he takes an interest in whatever will allow him to remain seated behind the Resolute Desk, much like you or I do. He is a master persuader because the feeding of his ego demands it. And face it, facts don’t come close to changing anyone’s mind. The most frustrating job in America is to be a fact checker for Trump’s speeches. Probably the second most frustrating job is to be the one transcribing the speeches. Have you seen the poor fact checkers on TV? They are desperate to change your mind by showing you evidence.

It doesn’t work. We are facing a master provocateur, and that has unfortunately come at a time when our sin leaves us lacking critical strength not just in the area of discernment but in the area of foresight.

While we are distracted, a massive number of forces are in conflict. What is the point of taking your time to read this? There is more at play than BLM, the Coronavirus, the November election.

Cancel culture is choking us to death. We do not live as if redemption existed. We cannot possibly see how redemption is possible for someone like Trump or any of his favorite enemies of the day.

But there is redemption, and we need it. We must recognize first and daily our continued need for redemption and salvation. And that will be the only way out of cancel culture. Why share segments from the Scott Adams and Amanda Carpenter books? Because seeing is helpful. Because seeing how much we don’t see if helpful. But most importantly:

The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen. (1 Timothy 1:15-17 ESV)

You, too, dear traveler, can be redeemed, forgiven, and saved. And so can even Donald Trump. Our problem is the same. The solution is the same—the real Messiah, Jesus Christ.

On the Day My Daughter and I…

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Victor Chininin Buele

Shortly after moving to Johnson County, Kansas, it became clear to us that our phones were not working very well.  In the process of figuring this out, one day my daughter and I walked into a very special place.

I very soon realized I must not have looked like I fit there because nobody said hello or helped me.  My daughter and I left without buying a phone from such a slick place.  I realized what may have happened.  I was wearing a Mexican soccer jersey and old jean shorts.  She was wearing play clothes and non-matching shoes.  Her hair was unkept.

When I came to the United States, almost twenty years ago, I made two “promises” to myself in an attempt to survive the cultural change: (1) I was never going to allow myself to be homesick, and (2) I was never going to allow myself to participate in self-racisim.

You can see my delusion of godness there thinking I had more control over things than I did in reality.

Addressing homesickness came because I observed these big plans of my fellow Lojanos to go to big places, but very shortly thereafter, I would see them back in the streets of Loja with dreams unfulfilled.  My 17-year-old self was too proud, too selfish, and the wrong kind of ambitious to desire against all obstacles to avoid going back to Loja.  But what about the self-racism promise?

My 17-year-old self developed this theory that it takes two to tango.  If I would refuse to see myself as fundamentally different than the rest of the U.S. population, no matter what other people would think about me, I would not be contributing to the development, brooding, and systematization of racism.

In other words, I banked the foundation of my survival in America in this–that a white person may choose to look at me as whatever they would want to look at me, but I would not reciprocate that by acknowledging it, fearing it, acting differently because of it, living up to any stereotypes, or changing my plans because of what they may say, think, or do.  In other words, this was self-esteem on steroids.

And as one of the very, very, very few Hispanics in Nodaway County, Missouri, back then, there were far more than a handful of interesting encounters that would have crushed my soul had I not had this front up the whole time. And wearing this mask was exhausting, I must confess.

Yet, none of these encounters threatened my life. They are actually pretty comical in retrospective. Beside the usual high school mockery and sidelining, a few strange questions about whether we have cars in Ecuador, a date asking me if Ecuador was in Texas, none of these things put my life in danger.

Most of my life in the United States I have lived as a coconut, which is how they would call it in that Netflix show Gentified. Brown in the outside. White in the inside. And in God’s kindness of His providence to me, He has shown me a glimpse of another world I had always succeeded in avoiding. White/brown relations were always very simple for me because I‘ve had the means to live mostly as a white person. There are only a couple of places where I’ve really felt out of place–Monroe County, Illinois, and Johnson County, Kansas.

Yet, in the last four years, a number of strange incidents have continued to occur where I’ve been seen and treated differently. And also, in God’s kind providence, we have discovered the joys and challenges of gathering with the saints in a Spanish speaking immigrant church. We’ve edged towards a different circle of influence, and we’ve felt and seen different things than before.

I was only partly right as a teenager, imagine that—yes, I can compound the problem by responding to racism, which is a real problem, and to systemic inequality, which is a real thing, by making my identity largely a response to real and perceived racism. My identity is not founded in this, and it cannot be. If it were, it would be soul crushing. What I did not account for and what I was largely blind to as a result of living in different socioeconomic circles than the majority of Latinos is that racism dos remain a big sin in our country, a very real struggle, and a foundational roadblock for peace. And the King of Kings specializes in the solution for this sort of thing.

Donald Trump did not create racism. He is an opportunist who has leveraged sin in people’s hearts to rise to power and try to hold on to it. That’s what he does. And it is vile. But if we didn’t love it, if we didn’t desire that sin, we would not fall for it. The racism in our hearts must be put to death.

We have to deal with our sin.

There is no other way. We can keep putting it off and only make it worse. It’s time to wake up and really get woke. Not as the popular use of such a term but as in “I have my eyes open, what must I do to be awakened to this? What must I do to be saved?”

First Peter 2:11: “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.” We wouldn’t be racists is we didn’t have this passion inside our flesh for it. We wouldn’t be entitled looters if we didn’t have this passion for entitlement inside our flesh for it. If we don’t love it, we don’t fall for it.

We have to face the evil desires within ourselves. We must put that sin to death. We, minorities, must destroy the sin within our hearts. The traditionally not thought of as minorities who are becoming the minority, must destroy the sin within their hearts. We are both a very entitled people. We demand to have. We are envious. We hold grudges and are not quick to repent. We loot and set things on fire. We play the victim. We oppress, we abuse, we victimize. We do not foster opportunities for true advancement of those who don’t look like us. We do not make it a point to actually incarnate, to pitch a tent and live among those who do not look like us. We do not make any efforts to truly understand those who are different than us: What is their plight, what is their sorrow, what is their joy?

In short, by becoming more like the King of Kings, Jesus Christ, we can put to death these sins that are destroying us. This is not a mere call to “act like a Christian” or to “do Christian things.” The gospel is not about mere behavioral change, but it is about a radical transformation of the heart that only God can bring about. A man being turned into the image of Christ will be made more and more like Him every day—every day the sin within the heart that leads to murder, to abuse, to looting, to rage will be put to death a little bit more.

It is time to seek the Lord while He may be found and heal this land.

There is no other way. We keep trying what looks like other paths. And here we are again, it’s not even June of 2020, and the sad story repeats itself. George Floyd is the name today. Will you wait until it is your name to turn and seek Christ?

On Sheep and Mediators

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Victor Chininin Buele 

What a season! One of the first things I ran into today was a man saying on Instagram that he wasn’t a [you can imagine what wonderful expletive was use]ing sheep.

But I am a sheep, I said to myself. I am. And so are you, “Costco Kevin.” And so is Tison.

Why should you consider what I am sharing with you? I have seen a further escalation of our polarization—new adjectives we can use to distinguish ourselves from others, I should say.  “Mask wearers” are sheep, I’ve read, since I must highlight that we don’t actually talk to one another like this. We let memes do the work. It is easier.

Living in a pluralistic society is very difficult. We have been pretending for quite some time that it isn’t, but it is. It requires listening, speaking civilly, articulating our ideas clearly, having grace when we and others aren’t clear, patience when trying to express ourselves again, grace to overlook minor offenses, and a ton of other things we do not have time to address. It requires humility, and that is not our strongest gifting in America.

On the last post, I was saying, in Spanish, that moments like this novel coronavirus pandemic crisis reveal our faith and by revealing it, this crisis clarifies the definition of our generation’s faith.  It’s not that we don’t have faith.  We have just as much faith as Fundamentalists of old or as the sun worshipers of the ancient Incan empire. We are sheep.

Our cultural faith is a very deep faith in ourselves. And that’s backfiring bigly. Or should we say big league? I am not sure anybody can agree to what it is that the President actually says anyway.  And that’s part of the point. In the post I said that we have a tendency to make an omelet with our faith. But that doesn’t translate super well. The best analogy I can find in English is a steamroller. We want a steamroller faith.

We have a profound faith in ourselves. Blind faith. Unquestionable faith. Unshakable faith. A steamroller faith. We can and will get through this.

Sometimes we hide this faith of ours in Christianity, secularism, atheism, conservative values, morality, equality,  public opinion polls, liberal values, rights. You get the point. What I’m saying is that the collective American faith is out, exposed and in shambles. We are most definitely not watching after each other. From the man behind the resolute desk watching out for his reelection to my procrastination to write this because I after all do care inordinately about what you think about me, we are all watching after ourselves. We are insufficient for this thing. We are sheep, and we keep shouting at others that we aren’t. We want what we want. We want to not wear masks. We want to wear masks. We want to be free. We want to be healthy. But before we get too far, I do see glimpses of hope here and there of some who are showing a disposition to think of others first, to think of others as more significant than themselves as Paul exhorts us to do in Philippians 2 based on the example of Jesus.

I am frankly amused that a public health matter has taken such tones. My musical brain takes me to the wonderful seats of Powell Hall in St. Louis, remembering the STL Symphony and the choir singing from Handel’s Messiah that we like sheep have gone astray, which is nothing more than Isaiah 53 put to song:

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all (Isaiah 53:6 ESV).

We are sheep. It is not a pleasant description. I think it’s good that it offends people because we need to understand that Holy Scripture does not show us in a very favorable light with such an accurate and appropriate description. Yes, we are also made in the image of God and are privileged with great worth and value because of that kind gift bestowed to us. But sheep are dumb, they follow the crowd, they do not think, their vision is fascinating and powerful yet they miss what’s right in front of their noses, they lack depth perception. Sheep are easily led astray by wolves. It matters infinitely if the sheep is being watched by a shepherd or by a thief:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber. But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” This figure of speech Jesus used with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them. So Jesus again said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. – John 10:1-15

Sheep find it easy to make mediators for themselves to hide the difficulty of life.  Don’t. Don’t swallow whole what your mediator of choice gives to you.  The research on masks is not straightforward, the research on COVID-19 is all over the place, government officers have been tripping all over it and making contradicting and contradictory claims and decisions. We simply don’t know. It may be that wearing a mask is a greater danger than not wearing it. Perhaps, perhaps not. I have followed the evidence closely from many sources, not just from a central mediator. I have made choices for my family and for myself. I trust in God and in His wisdom. Some Christians will think I am living in fear. Some Christians will think I am too liberal or too lose.

We want to have somebody to tell us what to do and to have that match perfectly with what we want to do. That is what going astray like sheep means.

It matters infinitely who our shepherd is. All man shepherds will ultimately fail us. Trump, scientists, pastors, talking heads, politicians, governors, the media, those who say not to be the media but are, WND, CNN, Fox.  They will all fail us.

Here is what I long for. I long for the gospel to sweep over our sick land and give us a renewal, a fresh start, the end of our sad divisions. That those who have found a love for life and a desire to defend life will let that go all the way to all it’s necessary implications even if they require a death—the death of their own self-interest. That those who have found a love for what is thought of by them as holiness but is really self-righteousness will let that go all the way and let Christ transform them with a profound sense of compassion of tireless dedication to love others well, to truly love them. That those who have a passion for freedom would work and pray ceaselessly for true freedom to be found in Jesus for themselves and those they long to make free.

There is a kingdom that cannot be shaken. We can either waste this pandemic fighting over masks and rights and shooting and shouting at each other, or we can surrender, pick up our cross, and seek the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and find true joy, a joy that does not require mediators through faith in a Shepherd that will never let us down and will truly protect us whether COVID-19 kills us or not, whether it came from a bat or from a lab, whether we see our false dilemmas and faulty logic or not, whether we look like we are right or not. In the end, we can know the One who is Right

It is grace. Turn your eyes to the Shepherd.

La Tortilla del Salmo 91

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Victor Chininin Buele

Hay momentos que revelan nuestra fe y al revelarla clarifican la definición de la fe de nuestra generación. Nuestra fe colectiva es una fe muy profunda en nosotros mismos.  Es el fruto de la autoestima que estuvo cerca de la raíz de nuestra educación. Juntos podemos decimos todos. Yo estoy en control. Yo puedo contra esto. Si nos lavamos las manos, si no salimos, si compramos mascarillas, si compramos papel higiénico en abundancia (por una razón que parece que se nos escapa a todos), si agotamos los recursos disponibles en el super y lleno mi casa de atunes y arroz, entonces no nos llegará el Coronavirus. O si nos llega sobreviviremos.

Al inicio de nuestro encuentro con el Coronavirus, el gobierno de la república puso una mesita en el aeropuerto con un mantelito y un doctor con mascarilla.  Nada más.  Tomamos foto de eso y fue el origen de los memes “Nos fallaste flaco” una vez que ingresó el coronavirus al territorio nacional. Vamos de la falta completa de atención a esta materia (como aquella mesita en el aeropuerto Mariscal Sucre) a un pánico, vamos de 0 a 160 km/h en pocos segundos. Pero el pánico deja nuestros corazones al descubierto.

Y puede que los cristianos leamos esto diciendo, “pero yo confío en Dios”. Y resulta que hacemos lo mismo.  Somos creyentes grandes del evangelio de la prosperidad. Aunque lo rechacemos formalmente y aquellos mercaderes de evangelios falsos nos hagan dar náusea, dentro de nosotros reaccionamos de la misma manera–quiero la oración que haga que este virus no entre a mi casa, quiero la solución que mantenga a mi familia con salud y seguridad, quiero la garantía de que no voy a perder mi trabajo, quiero una fe que me garantice que no me llegará el Coronavirus.

Y entonces entra esta fe en nosotros mismos y se disfraza de cristianismo.

He visto mucho el Salmo 91 en estos días, especialmente los versículos 9 y 10. Nos dan cierta confianza y pueden fácilmente calmar nuestro deseo de encontrar confianza en nosotros mismos:

Porque has puesto al Señor, que es mi refugio,
Al Altísimo, por tu habitación.
No te sucederá ningún mal,
Ni plaga se acercará a tu morada. (Salmo 91:9-10)

Cuando hacemos una tortilla, nos aseguramos de aplanarla bien–los huevos, la salchicha, las verduras, lo que sea que le pongamos. La hacemos bien planita.  Muchas veces hacemos eso con la Palabra de Dios y nos encontramos en lugares que demuestran que nuestra fe está en nosotros mismos y no en Dios.

Decimos–porque el Salmo 91 dice esto, entonces si yo pongo al Señor como mi refugio y mi habitación, entonces el Coronavirus no entrará a mi casa. Y en ese momento rendimos nuestra fe al altar idólatra de nuestras propias obras, de nuestra fe en nosotros mismos, de nuestra confianza en nosotros mismos.  En vez de apurarnos a comprar mascarillas nos jactamos que porque tenemos a Dios como nuestro refugio, entonces, el Coronavirus no nos llegará.

Cuando aplastamos nuestra fe como una tortilla no damos espacio para que toda la Palabra tenga su lugar correcto en nuestros pensamientos y nuestra fe. No damos espacio para que al justo Job le pase gran desgracia y enfermedad. No damos espacio para los sufrimientos de los salmistas. No damos lugar para que Pablo le pida al Señor en agonía que le quite la espina que tenía en su carne (no sabemos qué dolencia sería). No damos lugar para el rol del sufrimiento en nuestra santificación. Por medio del sufrimiento nos volvemos más como Cristo. Esta promesa y realidad también está en la Palabra.

Pero es que nos suena tan bonito decir, “Si me porto bien y hago lo que se supone que los cristianos deban hacer, entonces no me dará el Coronavirus”. Porque entonces todo está en mis manos, en mi compra de artículos de aseo personal, en la distancia que guardo de las personas, en la intensidad de mis oraciones, etc. Porque si resulta que en mis viajes para proveer a mi familia de la provisión que Dios nos da me he agarrado semejante compañero de viaje del Coronavirus, entonces ¿qué se diría de mí? ¿Que mi fe no es lo suficientemente fuerte para que el Coronavirus no entre en mi casa? ¿Que no he hecho morada permanente en el Señor? Tenemos que cuidarnos de hacer una tortilla del pobre salmo 91 porque las dos cosas son ciertas–Jehová debe ser nuestra morada permanente y en Él, ninguna peste nos alejará de Él por la eternidad, eso es consistente con Romanos 8 por ejemplo. Entonces, venga o no venga la peste, debemos amarnos los unos a los otros, cuidar de los más vulnerables, predicar el evangelio porque no hay mejor momento para explorar la verdad de la cruz y resurrección de Cristo que cuando nuestra mortalidad parece estar muy cerca.

Lo que no podemos hacer jamás es confiar en nosotros mismos.

El diablo le citó el salmo 91 a Jesús para que Él se aleje de la relación perfecta con Su Padre, para que desobedezca al Padre, para que de una vez por todas nos deje sin posibilidad de salvación. Cuidémonos de utilizar a la preciosa Palabra como una muleta para ayudarnos a caminar por nosotros mismos, con nuestro propio esfuerzo, diciendo que estamos en Cristo pero viviendo alejados de Él.

Solamente la fe. No lo que yo haga o pueda hacer.

Que Dios los proteja en estos tiempos difíciles y no dejemos de orar.

Seeing Through Shame

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Victor Chininin Buele

I’ve spent a lot of time in an analytic mode lately–reading the Word, reading about failure, forgiveness, words, civility, abuse, polity. Trying to digest some of these big ideas is not easy because at times you can get disconnected from the metanarrative that connects it all–the gospel.

Failure only exists because sin entered the world, and we fall short of God’s glory.  The use of our words is only compromised because our first parents fell prey to the sinful misuse of words to deceive and alter the truth. Forgiveness takes us to the fundamental question–I have been forgiven much, will I forgive as Christ has forgiven me? Civility is a struggle because not being civil always seems right to us in this side of eternity–it’s our default setting, so to speak. Abuse is a serious problem that destroys relationships and trust. Polity can be broken in a world of broken promises and self-preservation. And all of these problems are easier to see without than within. We need help.

One of the things I am seeing is how shame is integrally connected to all of this. Shame appears in some of the most unsuspected places, but it is there, driving our actions. I learned that the Thai word for being shamed means “to tear one’s face off so they appear ugly before their friends and community.” And that in Zimbabwe, it means “to stomp or wipe your feet on my name.”

Consider how avoiding or covering up failure can be driven by shame. Failure is inescapable since we are finite creatures with limited knowledge and compromised wisdom. We are going to fail. When college students ask me about career advice, I often tell them, “You will always hear ‘No!’ It matters greatly what happens after ‘No.'” We will face failure–we are not good enough, we are not smart enough, we don’t anticipate every eventuality, we cannot possibly ever buy sufficient insurance against risk.  Rich or poor, smart or not so smart, sophisticated or careless, we will all fail.  And we fear failure and will try to do whatever is necessary to avoid it. A door opens to shame people to prevent failure or to prevent failure from getting out. We can end up building cultures of failure avoidance and/or of failure cover-up that are in reality cultures of shame. We can live in them for years and not even blink an eye.

Consider how forgiveness gets entangled with shame. The call to forgive is impossible for a human being this side of eternity.  Forgiveness is not our default setting at all.  We need to look to Christ, we need to be forgiven by Christ. Look at the now famous speech by Greta Thunberg (and I wonder how long it will be until everyone forgets about it). It is a deeply religious call to overcome what amounts to sin from her secular context: the unpardonable sin of ignoring climate change and not doing anything about it. She utters god-like judgment towards those who refuse to repent–“We will never forgive you. We will not let you get away with this.” Because forgiveness is tied to exposure, shame can creep in unnoticed.  Greta needed to make her definition of sin known before she could ask us to repent of it.  And here is where things get tricky–what if I don’t see it? Or worse, what if I say that I don’t see it but I truly do and am too ashamed to admit it? That’s one way that shame gets in. We could shame the other person by labeling her all sorts of things so that she can just stop talking and reminding us of the true weight of what we’ve done.  But shame can also get in during the exposure. We can avail ourselves of all sorts of dark tools of rhetoric and belittling and shaming to force a confession that condemns the other and vindicates us, so to speak. The Christ says we must forgive and forgive infinitely many, many more times than we think we are supposed to forgive. The Christ never shamed anyone while convicting him of sin.  Jesus Christ spoke hard words of judgment that were never separated from words of redemption.  And that we must imitate.  No shaming of our neighbor.

Consider how our words can get venom attached to them because of shame, even these words I write are affected by shame one way or another.  Being made in the image of God, we are storytellers, that is truly a marker of the hand of the Almighty Creator in us. And we can use our stories to glorify Him or to shame others, to build narratives to keep people where we want them or need them to be.  Shame works quite well to accomplish that. We know things about them. We make things up about them. We reconstruct reality. Gossip is serious–the sharing of things about somebody from a bad heart, with ill intent.  Slander is poison–the sharing of false reports, of lies, about somebody.  Labeling is dangerous–the quick overgeneralization of a person’s traits into one label–heretic, unbeliever, weak, coward, abuser. And it is possible to be passive-aggressive about this all. Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone. Go ahead. We can pause. And yet, we are not to remain there. We all fall short. Have we not been guilty of gossip, slander, labeling, passive-aggresive sinful behavior? There would be no gospel if Christ would just leave us there. Our words matter, and our definitions cannot be defined from shaming or by using shaming.

Consider how civility is affected when we are unable to speak because we’ve been shamed into not saying anything about something or when we know we are going to fulfill some narrative already crafted about us.  Civil and meaningful dialog cannot happen when the very first thing we fear is reports of us that say, “You see! You are a slanderer!” That comes from shame and produces shame.  Christ never shamed anyone even when they fulfilled the prophecy.  Let’s look at our beloved and unfaithful Peter.  He was so brave and courageous–I will never fail you, Lord! Jesus told him he would deny him three times.  Peter said, “No way, José” But he did.  Three times.  And not to some big authority or under duress but in the shadows of a mock trial and to people whose names history has erased. Christ does not come to him later and say, “You see, you are a betrayer. You did exactly what I said you would do.” There was no crowd preparation for the people to look at Peter and say, “Yes, it’s true. Look at how this is happening exactly according to the filth in this man.” Christ asked Peter to feed his lambs, and that is us, folks. Three times. Once for every time he denied the Lord. There is redemption, no shame, in the gospel.

Consider how abuse thrives in shame.  And how abuse is perpetrated by shame and through shame.  Abuse needs shame to exist.  It becomes a vicious cycle: the abused is shamed into never saying anything about it, even to those with the right standing or position or ability to do something about it, even to someone they trust and open up to to help them see what may be wrong in a situation.  Shame breeds shame.  The cycle has to be broken.  And only Christ, who never abused but was abused by sinful men, can bring redemption in that darkness and redemption from that darkness.  And light instead of shame. Neither abuser nor the abused are powerless to be freed once and for all from the chains of abuse.

Consider how polity is affected by shame. This is an unpopular word these days, but it refers to the way things run.  Everything has a polity.  There are rules we set out, procedures, ways of running things, routines we can go to when we are in trouble.  Have you seen the emergency plans that are displayed in the break room at your work? That’s polity.  You never read it and hardly ever pay any attention to it (unless you are so desperately bored and alone and your phone died and there is no WiFi anywhere and you have to make it until 5 o’clock somehow so that you stand there and mindlessly read it), but it’s there so that when that tornado watch comes, you know where to go by following the steps.  Polity is not Scripture, but it can be helpful and authoritative so long as it is rooted in the Word.  But because it is not Scripture, it can get infected by shame. We write procedures to handle the things that shame us. We shame people by the procedures. But Christ has a way to fix that, too.  If we are open to hear the errors of our ways even from those we think are our intellectual and spiritual inferiors.

A dear sister in the Lord and I were talking about the difficulty of certain questions in the Christian life.  We can give answers for them when they are theoretical questions without much hesitation. “This is what I would do…” But when the questions become real because we are in the middle of the thing we thought was only theoretical, things all of a sudden get really murky and complicated.  She wisely suggested that the reason that is comes from the fact that we stop trusting and believing that God’s hand is in the thing that is happening to us.  We don’t really believe in a sovereign God.  Now we find all sorts of qualifiers, buts, howevers, nuances, exceptions, and cries for mercy. Many times the answer is really the simple answer we gave when the troubles were away.

Failure is real, and we can get through it in Christ without shame and without shaming others. Forgiveness is possible through the cross of Christ who bore all my shame at the hand of sinful, slanderous people.  My words can and are being made more like Christ’s day by day as he makes me more and more like him every day, one degree of glory to the next. I’m seeing ways in which I have failed to be civil by both allowing others to shame me and by shaming others–sin is that deep, but repentance can restore civility. Abuse dies when Christ takes over shame, when repentance takes over shaming. Polity indeed shows us the way out of a tornado watch when we are willing to proofread it according to The Standard. Shame dies when light comes.

One of the things that has been impressed the most in my mind and my heart is this: “My resistance to vulnerability is feeding my deepest shame (J. R. Briggs, Fail)” I have a choice daily–what am I going to feed? Will I feed my deepest shame by not being vulnerable and sitting in a corner ashamed? Or will I feed my love and passion for Jesus Christ by being vulnerable to those he has brought into my life to walk with me? What will you feed? More shame?

Testamento 2018

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Victor Chininin Buele

No he dejado que esta familia tenga tiempo para escribir por aquí. No he dejado tiempo para que esta familia pueda hacer muchas cosas en las que siempre han confiado para encontrar recreo en el medio de la adversidad.

Y aquí me encuentro, a punto ya de expirar. Es hora de recibir mi ola anual de adoración. Una ola de escritos a nivel nacional e internacional. Soy muy famoso y me dan crédito por todo. Yo doy y yo quito cosas. Les he dado una imagen real de Caperucita Roja y su lobo disfrazado de abuelita con el licenciado cuántico y su pandilla. Les dejo un Vice al que no lo podrán botar jamás porque no podrán  gritar su apellido en las huelgas. Les he dado una película peor que sólo para adultos con rating TV-MA con el Donald J. por el norte.

Y de eso escribirán mucho. A mi querida Loja le dejo los mismos de siempre, peleando para ser dizque alcalde y dañar e ignorar lo que el otro hizo y dejar que lo que no hizo sea el foco de la atención pública. Castillos de cristal o baches con agua podrida para Ciudad Victoria. Viaductos y Zona Rosa o escombrera en Sierra Nevada. Les dejo con intriga para el 2019 o quizás le escuchen al Einstein que era tan pilas—que la locura es hacer lo mismo una y otra vez pero esperando resultados diferentes.

Dejo precios altos y recortes salariales. Dejo enfermedades pero también les dejo memes para que no se olviden que en este lugar no se gana, pero al menos se goza.

El Chininín no se calla. Ha venido de una visita al hospital. Uno de los hermanos de su amigo tuvo un ataque cardiaco y un accidente automovilístico debido a aquel. Está, como yo, a punto de fallecer. Yo quiero que también lo ponga en el testamento de las cosas que le dejo. Me dice que el hijo mayor de otra familia que son amigos suyos tuvo una muerte muy trágica esta semana pasada. Y yo quiero también que lo ponga en el testamento de las cosas que le dejo. Pero me dice que no soy yo quien está detrás de todo.  Hasta le dejé el privilegio de celebrar la boda de uno de sus grandes amigos de siempre pero ni por eso me quiere elogiar. Y eso que dicen que sabe escribir bonito.

Esto me causa gran pena porque en esta agonía mi consuelo es ser adorado por todos que aunque me quemen esta fatídica noche por un ratito me querrán. Mis viudas me llorarán. Mis borrachines cantarán clariririritito (porque aún no les suben el Cantaclaro, pero esperen nomás).  Y él no me deja. Incluso me dice que la juventud se hará quedar todas las moneditas que pidieron dizque para mi.  ¿Y mi viuda…?

Le recuerdo a este individuo muchas de las cosas que quería hacer y no pudo como evidencias de mi gran poder. Sus proyectos que no se concretaron. Pero no me deja.

Me dice que no necesita quemarme aunque ganas no le faltan porque él confía en la mano bondadosa de lo que yo le digo es un personaje ficticio de su ambiciosa imaginación—este Dios supuestamente vivo y viviente que no fallece como yo. Que supuestamente es quien da y quita, quien obra todas las cosas para el bien de su pueblo, para el bien de quienes lo aman.

Le digo que me deje aquí en la cama en esta hora final de mi sosiego. Que me deje en paz. Que no me hable de su cuento de hadas que dizque se llama el evangelio.

Pero al ver que las luces ya se apagan empiezo a preguntarme si es en verdad la única historia, la única explicación para todo—si me permiten repetir lo que me dice—que Jesús en verdad se volvió un ser humano que conoce el aguijón y el dolor de la muerte. Que Jesús es el único que es Rey Soberano sobre todas las cosas. Que Él es quien ha permitido al cuántico traidor y al de cabello anaranjado sentarse un ratito en la silla de administración de la creación de Dios. Que Él es quien quita toda la basura de nuestras vidas para que podamos ver con claridad que cuando se nos acaban los engaños, la bebida, las pastillas, los amantes, la farra, el trabajo, o lo que sea que hemos puesto en lugar de Dios, Él nos levanta de la aflicción con la esperanza eterna de la creación restaurada. Donde la abuelita correrá.  Donde la libertad abundará. Donde el dinero no engañará con su aroma falso de felicidad. Donde las lágrimas de dolor ya no existirán. Donde los precios serán todos GRACIA SOBERANA de un Dios abundantemente generoso. Me dice con esa sonrisa tonta que Dios está en un gran plan de regeneración de su creación.  Que hay esperanza verdadera en la resurrección de Jesucristo.  ¿Pueden imaginarse eso, que un muerto vive, sentado a la diestra de un Padre supuestamente generoso que (como me dice) se deleita en dar a sus hijos buenos regalos aunque se hayan portado mal, aunque hayan fallado de manera desastrosa? Incluso usa esa palabra pecado.  Que yo he pecado.

Y todo gracias a Aquél que vino a morir en el Calvario en una cruz. Me pregunto si es posible que todo este peso que llevo sobre mi espalda, toda mi ansiedad y toda mi preocupación pueden en verdad, como este Chininín tan patéticamente me sigue diciendo, ser dejados al pie de esa cruz. ¡Como si fuera algún milagro!

Chao, mis queridos.
-El Susodicho 2018

 

Nota del Chininín:

Es un milagro es en verdad. ¡Hágase la luz!

Feliz Año 2019. Que Dios les bendiga abundantemente. Que sus hogares tengan amor y paz, comida y gasolina abundantes, que su trabajo sea fructífero, que sus hijos e hijas tengan padres que los amen sin condición, que todas las circunstancias ya que parezcan ser buenas o malas les lleven al trono de la gracia donde Jesús dice: “Venid a mí, todos los que estáis cansados y cargados, y yo os haré descansar.  Tomad mi yugo sobre vosotros y aprended de mí, que soy manso y humilde de corazón, y hallareis descanso para vuestras almas. Porque mi yugo es fácil, mi carga ligera” (Mateo 11)

Vamos. Y bienvenidos a Jesucristo.

Fed Up With “Thoughts and Prayers”? I’m Glad!

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Victor Chininin Buele

We develop these platitudes that mean nothing. Let’s be honest. We want to be nice or to comfort somebody, but we have no clue whatsoever about what we should say or do. It happens. We are fallen humans.

Every time a mass shooting has happened, I observe my friends growing more and more fed up with the standard “thoughts and prayer” response. You may assume that I would say that being fed up with that is wrong. I’m actually quite glad this is happening. But obviously, most likely this is not for the reasons you think. It is not wrong to see another mass shooting and say, “Hey, these ‘thoughts and prayers’ thing is a bill of goods.”

Thoughts. For many years now, Americans have lived this practical theology of wishful thinking, or the power of positive thinking. We have at the White House a representative of this. We’ve started to see the folly of this notion that we can wish things with our thinking. That if we speak positively into our life things will happen. That our words have power to create reality. You can see that because Trump says something is the largest inauguration crowd in history doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t. We can’t change reality with our thoughts.  Three hundred million people thinking that massive shootings need to stop has not changed the reality that these things keep happening.  Thinking about something is not enough.

Prayers. This is a perfect storm. In our secularist society, it is intellectually suspect to think that God exists. Even if you do think that God exists, it is almost a necessary conclusion to think that he is useless and powerless or bad. Then, when this narrative comes back to the news cycle—people say that they pray, and the shootings keep happening—our suspicions appear to be confirmed. There is no God. Or prayers are useless. What a big effin’ waste of time.

—So, Mr. Theologian Aficionado, what are you trying to get at? That you also believe that God is puny? Are you ready to come to your senses and step into the light, forsaking your dogmatic infancy of believing in God at all?

Not at all.

I would instead ask you, “Can’t you see that we are getting closer and closer to the moment where prayer for national repentance is the only way forward?”

Allow me to explain myself.

There is another possible conclusion here. We are not thinking the right thoughts to prompt us to the right actions through righteous prayer. That would also explain why “thoughts and prayers” have not resulted in an end to mass shootings.

We think too highly of ourselves. An underlying assumption to all the discussion about mass shootings goes around the idea that if there were the right controls and legislation, shootings wouldn’t happen. Cain killed his brother with a very low tech weapon. It’s part of our fallen nature. Jesus said that it is not just murder that is sin, but that which is just as much murder as murder itself—anger. My “losing it” at a poor clerk who has to inform me that a flight has been cancelled is just as sinful as the grabbing of an automated weapon to murder her. Both are reprehensible in the sight of a holy God. We must, therefore, spend our lives working on ways to govern life in this fallen world as to preserve life knowing full well that no matter what degree of deterrents are put in place, we have murderous hearts inside of us. We quarrel and fight, and that in due time arises to murder.  Whether it’s flipping the middle finger at the guy who cut you off (perhaps by accident) or by pushing him off the bridge with your car. This does not mean that we should not pursue deterrents and that we should not have vigorous discussion about what deterrents have the potential to save the most lives. We just can’t leave the discussion at that, thinking that legislation can change the human heart.

We don’t really pray. When people say, “You are in my thoughts and prayers,” most likely they walk away and never pray for you. Why do I say that? Because I’m a judgmental jerk? Not entirely. Because I know my weakness. I have to have lists of things I’m praying for because otherwise I’ll forget about them. I’m a weak human with a weak mind. I need lots of reminders. My prayers are often derailed by the smallest distractions. And that’s for the stuff I’m aware I need to be praying for. I wasn’t praying for Broward County, Florida, yesterday, or the day before, or even when I was working in Ft. Lauderdale several years ago, or when I was driving around the county looking for a wheelchair for my grandmother. I’m not that good of a person. And I’m a finite person.

We have this “I’m in the doghouse, save me,” theology of prayer.  We pray when we are in trouble. We don’t seem to really be much for prayer when things are going well.  A few years ago, our van started shaking up to about 50 mph. I remember that I had never been more aware in my life about the wonder of God allowing such a machine to move one revolution of the tires. I remember the wonder of praying and giving thanks for every rotation of the tires. All of a sudden, every mile was filled with miracles. Were the miracles not there before? I was just foolish to suppress my acknowledgement of them and my thanksgiving for them. When my mechanic fixed it, it didn’t take long for things to go back to the way they were before. Soon enough I wasn’t thanking God for holding this thing together when performing miraculous trips down I-70. We must have a more expansive theology of prayer.

If we don’t get what we want, we conclude that prayer does not work. What do you want? Do you want people to stop shooting others? I suspect yes. Have you given thanks for the family who welcomed this broken human being who held the gun in this incident? They welcomed this troubled young man after he lost even his mother. Have you considered praying for them? I can’t quite relate to the type of hurt they may be going through right now.  Do you want peace and harmony? Do you want safety? Do you want to be able to send your child to school and not feel like your treasure could be snatched away from you at any moment?

What do you want?

I want people to be convicted of their sin, to repent of it, and to turn to the Lord. We are all murderers, or do you presume to tell me that you have never sinned against anyone in your anger? I once had a terrible manager. This man was worse than the pointed-hair boss from Dilbert. My wife was in terrible pain, and he demanded that I be in his office immediately regardless of the difficult time we were going through. That day I had a clear choice. Would I look at this man and do what my flesh wanted? Would I murder this man in my heart and see my every subsequent day destroyed and tainted by my hatred and the grudges I was holding against him? Or would I pray for this man, as Jesus taught me to do? Would I pray for this man and bless him? Not just say a blessing upon him but actually bless him? Do my best work for him? Treat him with utmost respect? This changed my heart about him over time. I can look at him in the eye now and have no hatred of him. That was not ME, that was the work of God in me. Imagine the implications of national repentance! Imagine if our sad divisions do indeed cease. You are right about something, platitudes, empty thinking, and pretend prayers won’t get us there.  But prayers of repentance, prayers that push aside the sin that has eaten away so much good from our lives, families, homes, neighborhoods, schools, places of business, churches, cities, states…

I want people who seek God’s wisdom and guidance for all of life. What is God’s best for us to discern for how to best protect life this side of eternity? How do we genuinely care for those in the fringes? How do we care for those with depression and anxiety? How do we care for those who return from serving this nation with profound brokenness? How do we care for those struggling with mental illnesses? How do we care for the practical orphans raised in this culture of broken promises and broken families?

I want us to understand that there is a gospel that is more powerful than behavior modification.  If we seek to change our behavior, sooner or later we will crack, and our final lash will be worse than any of the little lashes.  Only the gospel has the power to arrest our mind, our soul, our heart, our lives, and to push us upward through the process.  Have you ever genuinely been in a true Christian community? If God has gifted you with that privilege you will know what I’m talking about.  There is a mingling of souls that could never come together apart from the Spirit of God rescuing them from their filth and binding them together into the image of Christ.

America, we can mourn together. We can grow together. We can understand one another. We can pray together. We can think together.

Think what you ask? “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (Philippians 4:8 ESV)

I’m glad you’re done with the platitude of “thoughts and prayers.”

Will you repent? Change has to start somewhere.  Let it start with you.

Love Is The Only Way: The Death of Storytelling in the Twenty-First Century

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Victor Chininin Buele

My wife and I were invited to a screening of Paul, Apostle of Christ.  I walked away from the movie deeply saddened. There are a ton of thoughts I have about the movie, but the one that is most important is the death of storytelling in the twenty-first century.  With The Fate of the Furious and Toy Story 4 and every possible franchise coming to a similar predicament, I find myself more and more frustrated by movies.  We have lost storytelling.

I would not recommend the movie Paul, Apostle of Christ at all.  It fails to tell the story.  I understand that you have to build screenplays and more “robust” stories to keep an audience’s attention.  I understand that there are 10,000 details that are not present in the pages of scripture.  We don’t know what clothes Paul wore, we don’t know the physical details of the jail where he was, we don’t really know Aquilla and Priscilla.  Pictures were not included.

So, there is a lot of room for the imagination.  And that’s fine.  And understood.  My commentary does not come from that.  Creativity must be exercised when trying to bring a story from the page to the big screen.

My commentary relates to bad storytelling.

What we do know is that Paul died preaching the gospel he once opposed.  Paul died proclaiming the Messiah he had once persecuted.  He died because he believed that God sent His Son Jesus Christ to become a man, to live a perfect life, to die a brutal death, to rise three days later, and to be raised up in glory.  He died because he proclaimed his witness of this message throughout the Ancient World.  He died because his Spirit-given boldness could not be silenced.  He died with a certainty that he had finished the race.  He died without fear of not being accepted by Christ.

The Paul portrayed in this movie was not the man I have admired, respected, hated at times, been instructed by, been convicted by.  The Paul portrayed in this movie was not the Paul that wrote the words that were put at times in the mouth of the actor.  The Paul of this movie dispensed wishy-washy Oprah advice to a suffering people.  The words of the Paul of this movie (or the lack of words) brought about division, anxiety, fear, and death, rather than the comfort and peace that the words of Paul in Scripture bring to us even today.

**SPOILER**
Paul is in prison in the movie, and the Roman prefect in charge of the prison has a daughter.  This girl is dying.  The prefect obeys all the rituals to the gods and goddesses to ensure his girl would live.  He is having marital problems because his wife blames him for their girl’s illness saying he is angering the gods by being a little lenient with Paul and Luke (who in this movie sneaked in the prison to write the Acts of the Apostles from Paul’s stories).  As anyone could predict, eventually the illness gets so bad that the prefect calls for Luke.  Luke comes and the girl is healed.  All the Christians end up praying for the girl.  The girl goes from being dead to being radiant.  So, this gets Paul some time alone with the prefect under the sun.  The Paul of the Bible would have been gracious, humble, and bold to proclaim the gospel to this prefect.  Acts 26 comes to mind and his defense portrayed there before King Agrippa.  The Paul of this movie gave a somewhat decent metaphor about water that I predict will be used in many sermons in the years to come.  Then he said a couple of platitudes.  A sentence of comedy relief.  He said, “I’m not trying to convince you.”  The whole theater laughed.  I don’t think Paul would have laughed at that.  In verse 28, Agrippa asks Paul, “In a short time would you persuade me to be a Christian?” Paul responds in verse 29, “Whether short or long, I would to God that not only you but also all who hear me this day might become such as I am–except for these chains.”  Paul was most definitely trying to convince Agrippa.

Sure, you can argue that you don’t want to alienate people who want to watch the movie for entertainment purposes.  You can argue that you are building a bridge.  You can argue a lot of things.  But make up a story for that.  Put the words you want in the mouth of a police officer or a football player or a firefighter.  If you are going to take the life of a man from the pages of Scripture whose life is a manifestation of human weakness magnifying the power of God, tell the story.  Add your art.  Add your music.  Add extra-scriptural details.  But don’t change the character of the man.

Summarizing the theology of Paul as “Love is the only way” falls far short.  While I was thankful for the glimpses of the tragic persecution our forefathers faced and for the reminder of the blood that was spilled to guard the treasure that we now get to buy and carry and read and share freely, the portrayal of Christians as belligerent, vengeful, and defeated left me pondering the consequences of storytelling like this.  People who have never read the Bible and people who may never read the Bible and people who read the Bible can take bits and pieces of this and strengthen what they want to hear instead of sound doctrine.  That would have grieved Paul gravely.  Yes, the story arc of Luke having to overcome the temptation to not seek to heal the daughter of the prefect, even as many brothers and sisters were being thrown to the beasts at the Coliseum, is an important one.  The triumph of love over hate.  The triumph of love over abuse and violence.

But the movie never defined the source of this Love.  Yes, there is 1 Corinthians 13.  But that Love, that Love needs to be defined.  We can’t leave it to the imagination or to whatever feels right to us in the moment

The movie was left with these empty pockets for you to fill in with whatever makes it work for you.  I was really confused to hear pastors speak of the prefect’s conversion.  The prefect never proclaimed Christ as Lord.  He stood by as Paul was killed.  We saw a bit of a happy ending in this life for the prefect and his family, but we weren’t told anything.

They had Paul speak parts of his epistles as he would move through the movie.

We keep doing violence to storytelling when we take our view of the world and our feelings and our agenda into stories from the past.  We need to let stories be the stories they are.  We don’t get to rewrite history.  The subject of the married life of Aquila and Priscilla as portrayed in the picture is highly anachronistic and Scripturally suspect. That can be a conversation for another time.

The biggest disappointment of this movie was that the gospel was never proclaimed.  There is not a letter of Paul that does not proclaim the gospel.  This was clearly a case of bad storytelling.

It was so strange to walk into a movie theater and see you’re being (1) manipulated (constant repetition of “Love is the only way”), and (2) treated as a gullible demographic.  Because actor x is in a movie you all went crazy about years ago, we are sure you’re going to love this movie.  Because it barely touches upon the Bible, we are certain you are all going to come in and hand over your money, bring your friends and all.  People were clapping in the end.  People laughed at the comedy relief thrown sporadically.  People left ready to bring their churches in to watch this.  It’s been released right before Easter so I’m sure many will think this is the next big thing that will bring the world to the gospel.

But when we step back, we find that the most wonderful story, the one that our souls long for, and the only story that makes sense of our existence was never mentioned.

The trailer mentioned this, but it wasn’t in the movie:

The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen. (1 Timothy 1:15–17 ESV)

Revisiting Presuppositions Always Pays Off

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Victor Chininin Buele

Before moving on to the second installment on the series about secularism as religion, we need to pause and revisit my presuppositions.  We often ignore how much we fill in the gaps.  Honest dialog requires careful examination.  After all, the underlying implication of the first installment was that there are gaps, and that these gaps are filled with faith.

A dear friend was gracious to me to comment the following:

A good start to what will surely be a valiant effort. However, you make a huge presupposition that people that don’t believe have an answer for creation. I know that I don’t know how the universe was created. I can read theories and evidentiary points to attempt to draw a conclusion supported by the evidence, but you are absolutely correct that there are gaps in the scientific explanations. Further, it seems that the more evidence we find, the more questions it raises. Human knowledge is like a balloon inside a box; the volume of the balloon represents what we know, the inner layer of latex is where that knowledge is pointing, the outer layer of latex is what we understand as unknown, but the rest of the volume of the box is the unknown. As we add air to the balloon by increasing our collective knowledge, we have more that points to what we don’t know, but what we know that we don’t know also grows. Now, I have no idea if we as a species can ever know everything, but I don’t presuppose to have an answer to anything that I don’t know. This, in my opinion, is the challenge to your stance.

I profoundly appreciate the honesty, candor, and the intelligence of this response.  We must take a moment to be thankful that we can still begin to voice our opinions with an affirmation of the good we see in others.  What a blessing this friend has been to me.  I thank my friend for affirming my efforts.  This examination wouldn’t be happening if he had not taken the time to further the discussion.  In that way, this is different than a book.  I love books, but there is something about riding this wave of iterations in epistemology that are open to us via the dynamic nature of the internet today.

Do People That Don’t Believe Have an Answer for Creation?

“I know that I don’t know how the universe was created.”  This level of honesty is worthy of admiration and imitation.  I must apologize for only addressing at first the ends of the spectrum.  The point of the original article was that I believe that God created the world while many of my humanist/atheist/agnostic/secularist friends believe the world started at the Big Bang and we are the result of Darwinian evolution and Chance.  A couple of friends rightly followed up with comments about what I call the line between science and scientism. A Christian who ignores science needs to go back to read the Bible because Adam was a scientist given the serious task of taxonomy by his Creator (Gen. 2:19).  Adam could have only gotten so far by digging holes with bare hands.  Understanding how the world works and how it can be used to guide us to human flourishing (even as we groan the consequences of the Fall) is a scientific effort (Gen. 1:28).  A Christian can not, by definition, be against science.

But a Christian is also by definition against scientism.  What do I mean by this made up word? I mean the blind faith of the cult of Science as god.  That science has the ultimat answers and is the maximum authority over all things.  While my friend must forgive me for implying that he has an answer for creation (that was painting with broad strokes), there are many fellow human beings out there who ascribe to Science the same attributes of “godness” or deity that are God’s by right.  There is such a dogmatic dualism out there in our world where God and Science are pitted against each other.  My initial point was to show through that sharp contrast that both groups do the same thing–they fill the gaps by faith with something.

After we revisit this fundamental presupposition, though, we still walk away with creation (or the uncertainty of creation as it may be) as a fundamental piece of every person’s worldview.  However we see this, it will have massive impacts to how we see all of life.

Yes, There are Gaps.

This is another area of great excitement to me as I read my friend’s response.  We must be intellectually honest.  Again, I have spent many nights talking with friends who overlook the gaps in their positions.  My point was that when we do that, we take “godness” upon ourselves.  We decide what makes a cogent argument.  We decide what is a gap or not.  Cognitive dissonance is in the air.  We become god.

The More Evidence We Find, The More Questions It Raises

Ultimately, as we fulfill our God-given task to study more and more of the world that was given to us, we have questions.  We face the limits of our finitude. We are not God.  And we can’t explain everything.  We learn something, and it opens another Pandora’s box.  We have to go revisit what we thought was true, we have to go rethink everything.  The Copernican Revolution wouldn’t be a revolution if it didn’t require to shift wrong thinking into right thinking.  We are humans.  When we admit we can be wrong, we are walking towards humility.  When we act as god, pride gets the upper hand.  Hurt is left in the trail.  We hurt those we love.

Epistemology – Is it Possible? Or Is It Just Hot Air?

We keep talking about God in 2018.  Whether you oppose Him and spend your time making arguments for His nonexistence, or whether you proclaim with your mouth and actions that you ignore such a stupid idea, or whether you bow down and worship Him, or whether you say it’s all a Big Elephant and that you are perfectly happy worshiping the trunk while I worship a leg, we keep finding ourselves by our nature still talking about God.  Natural revelation necessitates that we realize that we are not all that there is here.  We are creative beings, not creator beings.  That is, we cannot make something come out of nothing (ex nihilo).  We are always taking something that already exists and we make it something else.

And that’s where epistemology becomes a fascinating point.  Can we know anything?  Can we know everything?  We most definitely can not know everything.  We can, however, know.

What is the Bible but a finite revelation of the Infinite God for finite creatures.  It is a spectacular text that has the writing of the Creator all over it, and if that’s something we would want to discuss, there are just some fascinating things we could talk about (like Reading the Bible in 3D for example).  The point for now is this–both Christianity and science are founded upon the fact of knowability.  We can know.  We must start there.  We don’t have an Ultra HD 4K movie in the pages of the Bible about the Infinite God.  There are gaps.  The only starting point of the first post was to get us started in seeing that this is not something that is exclusively a “religious issue of the Christians,” but that all humans have this tension in epistemology.  We can know, but we can’t know everything.  And thus, every argument is eventually a circular argument (and I would say even to the disagreement of many readers, that every argument takes us to God).  God is the reason for the circularity.  “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen” (Rom 11:36).

What Do I Do With the Gap?

That’s a great question. We must deal with the gap somehow.  And that’s what we have mislabeled as religion and have called as the opium of the infirm fueling the sense of superiority.  It’s not that some less sophisticated, or less evolved, creatures need to feel better and make up stuff.  We all deal with the gap.  We are all religious.  Deeply religious.

A friend, wiser than I, has said (edited for brevity):

We still need “seers” — the culture nearly reveres science. So that the definitive answer to any argument is, “Scientists say…” So what’s going on with that? What is a scientist? A person with tools that help them see things that cannot be seen. We trust what science says because we trust that they see what we cannot.
“I also could speak as you do, if you were in my place; I could join words together against you and shake my head at you” (Job 16:4).

At the end of the day, you can walk away unpersuaded.  You can walk away certainly persuaded that Christianity is nonsense.  That’s a great place to start.  But how we fill the gap has massive impacts to how you live your life.  We see this in our daily life now.  People fill the gap with empty promises from a compulsive liar who tapes his ties.  People fill the gap with the promise of freedom from gurus that will happily collect our cash but will not deliver the relief, peace, and comfort that our anxious, fearful hearts long for.

I’m profoundly thankful for this request to examine my presuppositions.  I hope it helps us advance the dialog.  Yes, we can know God.  It may seem like a book full of nonsense at first, and especially since the efforts of many are keeping hungry souls from it.  No, we cannot know everything.  Yes, we can know.  Our hearts cry out for truth.  We see it every day–the lies we’ve been fed that there is no truth keep going down the drain.  They told us that morality was relative.  Well, Donald has had a way to show us that when things get really bad, there is no relativism in morality.  They told us that we are fundamentally good and that we excel at all what we do, and we turn around and find that our heroes are no better than us–rampant sexual depravity and oppression of the weak.  I also “don’t presuppose,” like my friend, “to have an answer to anything that I don’t know.”

And because of that, he is in not far from the path to the humility shown in Philippians 2.

I fail to see the challenge in his comment.  There is no challenge.  An apology for painting with broad strokes, yes.  But no challenge.

Thank you for your grace.