44 Sermon Illustrations on Reality

Dependence on recording memories on video cameras can deprive us of the real event. We later try to remember things we never really experienced. We need to throw ourselves into life and experience it. "Fix our eyes on what is seen."

[cf. C.S. Lewis on dependence on photographs]

An old story tells of a desert nomad who awakened hungry in the middle of the night. He lit a candle and began eating dates from a bowl beside his bed. He took a bite from one and saw a worm in it; so he threw it out of the tent. He bit into the second date, found another worm, and threw it away also. Reasoning that the wouldn’t have any dates left to eat if he continued, he blew out the candle and quickly ate the rest of the dates.

Many there are who prefer darkness and denial to the light of reality.

I recently allowed myself to be talked into attending a dinner theater that featured a "murder mystery." Diners, we were told, would be drawn into the cast and challenged to identify the guilty party from among the host of suspicious characters. The latter doubled as the wait staff. The service was painfully slow, but after the first course it was hard to generate much anticipation for the entree anyway. It was the acting, however, that made the evening seem interminable. The real mystery was how any of us made it to the third act - or the dessert course.

The play's characterizations were shallow. The paid cast must have faked their acting credentials. The diners shanghaied into minor roles were good sports, but their performances were less convincing than rainy-day charades at summer camp. The most useful adjective is fake. We were all fakes - chef, actors, and amateurs alike.

Ironically, a diner drafted to play "Pastor Jake" was in real life a pastor. The maitre d', who was also the stage director, selected him because of all the men in the room he thought him "to look least like a clergyman." So in this comedy of errors, even the genuine seemed counterfeit.

CRAVING THE REAL THING

On the drive home, I pondered how loudly the evening had cried out for integrity. If only there had been a few believable moments, moments with the ring of authenticity, the night might not have been such a disappointment. Just a grain or two of genuineness would have met the need.

Life is like that. We crave the "real thing." We rebel at the fake and the false, especially in matters of faith.

Jesus was always searching for genuine faith. When the Roman centurion requested his servant's healing, even from afar, Jesus expressed profound delight in the authenticity of his faith. Matthew tells us that Jesus marveled and rejoiced over the officer's sincerity and integrity. If this is what stirs the Lord's heart, I want to be someone similarly marked by genuine trust and obedience.

Some years ago Hollywood made a folk hero of a man dubbed "The Great Impostor." In the real life that inspired the film, the impostor, though unqualified, assumed the roles of physician, college professor, priest, military officer, and diplomat. Eventually he even posed as a Baptist preacher and pastored in the Pacific Northwest. But his undoing was his inability to give evidence of authentic spiritual life. He found it harder to be an impostor in faith than in medicine or academics. Only true faith can stand such tests.

THE SMELL OF THE GENUINE

Only by firsthand experience with the authentic can we distinguish the genuine from the counterfeit. I used to work as a cashier, handling large sums of currency quickly and accurately. My supervisor wanted to be confident that I was not an easy prey for crooks seeking to pass counterfeit bills. He had me prepare by studying, touching, smelling, and even learning to "listen" to genuine currency. It worked. I knew and could recognize the genuine and the counterfeit.

I am grateful to be in the midst of genuine people of God almost daily. When we encounter a woman or a man with spiritual integrity we are enriched, expanded, nurtured, and admonished, all at the same time. Such people of faith fortify us against the many counterfeit expressions of piety we may be tempted to embrace.

Even more, we need to seek the situations that call forth genuineness in ourselves: small groups in which religious posturing is discouraged and honest struggling welcomed; service opportunities in which we lose our awareness of how we are coming across because of our eagerness to help others; and spiritual mentoring partnerships in which a discerning older Christian can hold us accountable.

The only thing worse than bad acting in a dinner theater is bad acting in the household of faith.

__________________

Copyright (c) 1994 Christianity Today, Inc./CHRISTIANITY TODAY Magazine

#3619

*

Although the conflict between objectivity and relativity is old, it's not hopeless. There is a way of defining the conflict that can win some converts to the cause of objectivity.

[There is] a view currently popular in our universities, claiming that every value judgment or assertion that one statement is more objective or true than another (such as that science provides our most reliable account of the universe) is merely a subjective expression of personal bias.(1) This view is usually attributed to deconstructionism, postmodernism, feminism, or some other recent movement. It is older than these.

I taught literature in universities for many years. I retired before postmodernism and its ilk became fashionable. From the beginning of my career, I heard views like those above, usually from students trying to persuade me to raise their grade on a test or critical essay. Typically they argued the view right after I said that their evidence did not support their conclusions. If I questioned the validity of their reasoning, they usually responded, "IT'S VALID FOR ME."

Many of them were merely trying to justify sloppy work. (Paradoxically, they justified it by denying the need for justification.) But sometimes I heard similar arguments from students whose sincerity I respected. One year I taught a small graduate seminar on Contemporary American Fiction. Each week we read a novel by a different modern author [and then we would discuss it.] But sometimes the students bogged down in an impasse they couldn't resolve. Some would still be trying to uncover the central core of the work, but others would argue that this effort was pointless because, they said, every reader experiences a work differently.

I thought about this impasse but couldn't find a way past it. Finally, in the hope that even stating the problem might help, I defined for the class what seemed to me to be the two opposing points of view. I admitted that I favored one of these, so I expected objections. To my surprise, there were none. More to my surprise (since I wasn't trying to be persuasive), I had the impression that I had won the class over to my view. Still more to my surprise, the impasses seldom occurred during the rest of the term. When similar problems occurred in other courses, I told those students about my experience in the seminar, and again, the explanation usually seemed to reduce the conflict.

[My argument ran as follows]:

We all agreed that a basic difference between the two positions was that one group believed that there are MANY REALITIES, whereas the other group believed that there is ONLY ONE. I called these groups "pluralists" and "monists" and described the pluralists' position like this:

"The only reality we know is what we experience. Since your

experience differs from mine, your reality is different from

mine. Hence there are as many realities as there are people.

Those multiple realities are the only reality there is." I

think the pluralists agreed with this description. At least,

they nodded. (Maybe they were just sleepy.)

The disparity appeared in our respective notions of what the monists believed. Apparently the pluralists assumed that monists - by definition, people who believe in only one reality - must also believe that they (and only they) know exactly what reality is. To the pluralists, monism sounded like bigotry.

But the monism I described, which I and the other students seemed to share, was this:

There is only one reality. We don't know it completely or perfectly.

We can't know it completely because it's too big. Our spacecraft can

never investigate every planet. We can't know it perfectly because

our instruments aren't good enough. Besides, according to relativity

and modern quantum physics (which most of us currently consider the

most reliable descriptions), the universe is so weird that our minds

cannot possibly form a clear image of it.

We can't even see our immediate environment directly. Instead, we construct a mental image of it and "see" that. Although there's an image painted on our retina by light rays, we're not like cameras. We ourselves don't see an image until our optic nerves have sent their individual little bits of data up to and through a series of centers in our brain that combine and interpret these bits with the aid of knowledge stored in our memories. Our feelings help us to construct the image, but also distort it. Our emotions and cultures make some things beautiful and important, other things ugly and trivial. We continually make mistakes.

BUT THE VERY FACT THAT WE KNOW THAT WE MAKE MISTAKES AND CAN DETECT AND OFTEN CORRECT THEM SHOWS THAT THERE'S A REFERENCE REALITY OUT THERE, A "REAL" REALITY, AND THAT WE CAN IMPROVE OUR IMAGE OF IT. We can learn by experience and history and knowledge we get from others. None of us is always right, but some people are right more often than others (at least within their "fields"), and the rest of us would be wise to consult these people and respect and weigh their advice. ... We have assembled a large and generally (though not perfectly) reliable body of information. If it is contaminated with bias, we can reduce the contamination.

I didn't say all this in the literature seminar. I didn't even explicitly connect these philosophical abstractions to the study of literature. It didn't seem necessary. Probably the students saw for themselves that one purpose of their literary analysis was to improve their image of the author's image of reality. Anyway, it was clear that THE CENTRAL IDEA OF OUR MONISM WAS THAT OBJECTIVITY, TRUTH, AND REALITY EXIST, even though we can't master or define or know them perfectly.

I believe that the pluralists in the seminar decided that their position was not so different from ours after all. What they called personal realities, we called mental images. What they experienced as different realities, we experienced as limitations in our images, streaks on our windows. All (!) we were adding was that OUT THERE BEYOND THE WINDOWS EXISTS THE REAL THING. We'll never see it directly or wholly, just as we'll never see Mt. Rainier or Mt. Fuji from all sides at once. But we can get closer and closer.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

[Emphases by Holwick]

REFERENCES

1. Is science concerned with truth? Estling 22(4); Science, scientism, and anti-science in the age of preposterism, Haack 21(6); Antiscience in academia, Gross and Levitt 19(2); The antiscience threat, Kurtz and Holton 18(3); Science: The feminists' scapegoat? Walker 18(l).

Robert Stanton is an associate professor of English emeritus who has taught at the University of Washington, Seattle (195682); Northwestern University (19531956); and universities in Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, and Germany. He lives in Seattle.

There is a fine devotional book which has been assembled from the writings of Dr. J. I. Packer. In it he quotes a psychologist on the six marks of maturity. Americans love to take self-examinations, so here is one for you on what it means to be grown up, to be whole, balanced, sane and able to cope with life:

1. The first mark of maturity is the ability to deal constructively

with reality, to face facts, to not cover up reality or call it

something else, but to deal with it as it is. Mature people do

not kid themselves.

2. The second mark is, adapting quickly to change. We all experience

change, whether it be physical, at work, in the family, or

whatever. I am amazed at how much some of you have changed

through the years while I remain exactly the same! Immature

people resist change. It makes them nervous. But the mark of

maturity is to adapt to change because change is inevitable.

3. The third mark is freedom from the symptoms of tension and

anxiety. The worried look, the frown, the ulcers, the palpi-

tations of the heart -- all come because you are upset, anxious

and worried. Maturing means you have begun to see that God is in

control of this world. He is working out purposes that you do

not always understand, but you accept it. He will take you

through the deep water, not drown you in it. Maturity means you

are learning to trust.

4. Fourth, it means to be satisfied more with giving than receiving.

Some of you have recently learned that the joy of Christmas is

not getting presents but giving them. To see the joy in someone

else's face when they get something they either need or want.

That is a sign you are growing up. You are discovering the true

values of life.

5. The fifth mark is, to relate to others with consistency, help-

fulness and mutual satisfaction. Maturity is learning to get

along with other people, to be a help, not a hindrance, to

contribute to the solution and not to be always a part of the

problem.

6. Finally, maturity is sublimating and redirecting anger to

constructive ends. Maturity is the ability to use the adrenaline

that anger creates, not to lose your temper and add to the

problem, but to correct a situation or to contribute to changing

the nature of the difficulty.

When the Egyptians built the tombs for their kings they faced a problem -- how to ensure that the King in the afterlife would have an eternal supply of food and servants. They decided that, since the Ka -- the spirit counterpart or "double" of the deceased -- was not material, it did not need physical things, but only the images of those things. Therefore artists were commissioned to fill the tomb walls with "cartoons" depicting the Ka enjoying family, friends, and the favors of servants.

No one, who has read and experienced a story, will ever be completely satisfied with someone else's re-telling. To narrow an author's creativity down to one visual image on a screen is to trivialize the wonders of one of God's greatest gifts to us, our imagination.

A good example is the conclusion of the delightful movie, A PRINCESS BRIDE. There is a culminating kiss between the hero and his maiden. During the kiss, we hear the voice of the grandfather who has been reading this story to his grandson, and we see the power of imagination over the visual. On the screen we see only a kiss, and how many times have we seen a movie kiss? They're all the same. But from the narrator we hear:

"In the history of true love, there have been five truly great

kisses, but this one surpassed them all in its purity and its

passion."

The kiss on the screen pales in comparison to the one in our imaginations as we hear the words of the story.

*

In that clever telling of "The Great Divorce," C.S. Lewis entertains a vision of the Afterworld by means of a narrator on a bus ride through Heaven and Hell. Along the way, he meets a multitude of supernatural beings. Observing several conversations, the narrator is staggered to find Ghosts insistent upon their belief in God, but equally insistent about what that will look like, such that their expectations even forbid them from choosing reality.

In the Gospel of Luke there is a story about two men with real hopes and real expectations walking along the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13ff). The two disciples were walking and talking about recent events of which they were deeply troubled and genuinely puzzled. Jesus Christ, whom they had hoped to be the One God promised, the One who would deliver Israel, had been crucified just three days earlier. And complicating matters, that very morning some women came and told them that the tomb was empty and Christ was alive. As they walked, their heads bowed heavily with grief, their hearts and minds tangled with confusion, Jesus himself joined them on their journey. But they did not recognize him.

Luke and Lewis communicate a truth of which we would do well to take personal stock. You see, there are certain hopes in each of our lives that shape our worldview, orient our feet, and provide that sense of coherence for life's most plaguing questions. But if we come to a place where that hope seems to let us down, it was either a hope that was not intended to hold such authority, or the hope is worthy but our expectations have taken precedence. In any case reality must be our goal and truth our path, for the lure of expectation and predisposition is profound.

The disciple's passionate hope in Christ was visibly deflated because they allowed their expectations to act as thorns. They did not expect the One who would deliver Israel to fall in any way. Not only was Jesus betrayed and sentenced to suffer at the hands of men, he was crucified — a death reserved for criminals, a death which symbolized the curse of God. And while they believed in Christ's work and word, they believed that death had the final word. The laws of nature were more authoritative than the Laws of God.

Indeed, such expectations so ordered their sense of reality, that they were blinded from the reality of Christ in their midst even as they philosophized together. You see, their hope in Christ was accurate; it was their expectation of that hope that blurred their vision and left them in the murky waters of an incoherent mess.

When they reached their destination, they sat down and broke bread together. And we are told, at that moment their eyes were opened and they recognized the One among them.

Even today many travel along countless roads of life, discussing hope and disappointment, points of insight and confusion. Perhaps one day we, too, will ask as the disciples did that day, “Were not our hearts burning within us while He was talking with us on the road?” (Luke 24:32) Hope in Christ is knowing the reality of His presence even when we may least expect Him.

____________

Copyright © 2002 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

============================

Another version from 9/8/04:

In his clever telling of "The Great Divorce," C.S. Lewis describes a place called the “Afterworld” by means of a narrator who is on a bus ride through heaven and hell. Along the way, he meets a multitude of supernatural beings. Observing several conversations, the narrator is staggered to find those who are so insistent about what the love of God looks like that their expectations forbid them from recognizing it as it truly is.

The Gospel of Luke recounts a story about two men with real hopes and real expectations walking along the road to Emmaus. As the men were walking, they talked about recent events that both deeply troubled and genuinely puzzled them. Jesus of Nazareth, whom they had hoped to be the one God promised, the deliverer Israel, had been crucified just three days earlier. And complicating matters, that very morning some women came and told them that the tomb was empty and that Jesus was alive. As they walked, their heads bowed heavily with grief, their hearts and minds tangled with confusion, Jesus himself joined them on their journey. But they did not recognize him.

There are certain hopes in each of our lives that shape our worldview, orient our feet, and provide that sense of coherence for life's most plaguing questions. But if we come to a place where that hope seems to let us down, it may have been a hope that was not intended to hold such authority. Or, the hope is worthy but our expectations have taken precedence. In any case, reality must be our goal and truth our path, for the lure of expectation and predisposition is profound.

The disciples' passionate hope in Christ was visibly deflated because they allowed their expectations to act as thorns. They did not expect the one who would deliver Israel to fall in any way. Not only was Jesus betrayed and sentenced to suffer at the hands of men, he was crucified — a death reserved for criminals — a death which symbolized the curse of God. And while they believed in Christ's work and word, they believed that death had the final word. How often I have reacted similarly, finding the law of nature, the law of returns, the law of unintended consequences more authoritative than the laws of God.

The disciples' expectations so ordered their sense of reality, that they were blinded from the reality of Christ in their midst even as they philosophized together. Their hope in Christ was accurate; it was their expectation of that hope that blurred their vision and left them in the murky waters of an incoherent mess.

Even today many travel along countless roads of life, discussing hope and disappointment, points of insight and confusion. When the disciples reached their destination, they sat down with their fellow traveler and broke bread together. And Luke reports, at that moment, their eyes were opened and they recognized the one among them.

Perhaps one day we, too, will ask as the disciples did that day, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking with us on the road?” (Luke 24:32). Hope in Christ is recognizing the reality of his presence even when we may least expect him.

________

Copyright © 2004 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #18168]

We must not measure the reality of love by feelings, but by results. Feelings are very delusive. They often depend on mere natural temperament, and the devil wrests them to our hurt. A glowing imagination is apt to seek itself rather than God. But if you are earnest in striving to serve and endure for God's sake, if you persevere amid temptation, dryness, weariness, and desolation, you may rest assured that your love is real.

... Jean N. Grou

Though I do not appreciate some of his humor, Science fiction novelist Kurt Vonnegut writes with fantastic imagination. In one scene, main character Kilgor Trout, sits content at a bar when he is suddenly overwhelmed by someone or something that has entered the room. He begins to sweat, uncomfortably aware of a presence far greater than himself.

Who is it? The author, Kurt Vonnegut, himself! The effect is fascinating. When the author of the book steps into the novel, fiction is lost within a higher reality — the reality of Kurt Vonnegut. But Vonnegut has stepped into Kilgor's world for no other reason than to explain the meaninglessness of Kilgor's life. Vonnegut came to explain to Kilgor face to face that the very tiresome life he has led was, in fact, all due to the author's pen.

In this twisted ending, Kilgor is forced to conclude that apart from the author he does not exist. But ironically, he also must come to terms with the fact that it is because of the author that his very existence has been ridiculous. It is quite a story!

The Gospel writers tell a similar story, but it is one with consequences in stark contrast to Vonnegut's tale. The Gospel of John tells it like this: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a Father's only son, full of grace and truth... From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:14,16).

Working in urban ministry several years ago, I saw a small glimpse of the significance of the Incarnation of Christ. During the first year, I lived in an apartment just outside the city. But during the second year I was able to move into the neighborhood where many of the children involved in our ministry lived. The difference was profound. Teenagers that previously had held me at arms length came closer. Kids continually came to my door to ask if I could play. I lived among them. In their minds, I was now interested in their lives in a real and tangible way. I was a hand to hold on the way home, a next-door neighbor to sit with on the porch, a heart that knew both the joys and fears of the city. Stepping into their world changed everything.

How much more the Author of life has stepped into our world to change our lives. John relays as an eyewitness that Jesus Christ, God incarnate, fully divine and fully human, came to live among our world in flesh and blood. Eternity stepped into time bringing grace and truth; the Author of life stepped into the presence of his creation bringing the message of eternity, proclaiming the meaning of life. In intense contrast to the author of Kilgor's life, God stepped into our world to touch the story of our lives with his hand and his face, in order that we might know Him.

Think about this. The Author himself chose to become one of us, dying a painful lonely death on behalf of us, all in order to reach us. This is the story you are a part of. How will you respond? Let us not, as Isaiah warned the people of his day, turn things upside down, regarding the potter as the clay (Isaiah 29:16). Asks Isaiah, “Shall the thing that was made say of its maker, 'He did not make me' or the thing formed say of him who formed it, 'He has no understanding'?” To know the Author is to know the way, the truth, and the life. He is the highest reality. He is the meaning. And He wants to make sure that you know.

____________

Copyright © 2003 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #9797]

To a group of aspiring high school graduates anxiously waiting to flip their tassels to the other side of their caps, Bill Gates, CEO of Microsoft, offered the following words of mood-dampening wisdom: “Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.”

His less than cheery list of life's rules, which began notably with, “Life is not fair; get used to it,” offered a plethora of hard-hitting advice and a few other stabs of reality. Gates concluded his list with a final shot of truth for the proud graduating class: “Television is not real life,” he said, “In real life people have to actually leave the coffee shop and go to work.”

Lest we have visions of depressed teenagers walking across the stage to receive their diplomas that night, we should recall that most likely none of them heard a word of the speech anyway. Or if, in between hoping the 20 bobby pins holding their cap in place were not causing permanent scalp damage and visualizing the crowd's gasp as they tripped on the hem of their robe and tumbled into the front row, they did manage to hear a phrase or two, they surely don't remember it now.

It is once again the season of wisdom-filled addresses, Hallmark homilies, and energetic advice giving to people who are not hearing a word of it. Graduation is the occasion, and we are too excited to listen, even if it is Bill Gates.

To be fair, it is not only beaming graduates that exhibit attention difficulties in the midst of life's pomp and circumstance. The only part of the minister's sermon at my wedding that I remember is when he turned to my almost-husband and me and said, “This is the part of the ceremony when I offer you some marital wisdom that you don't hear and won't remember.”

Events like graduation come only so often, and often after much work. Like weddings, they usher in times of change and anticipation and call us to attention to life in new ways. No one blames a graduate for not remembering the commencement address or a bride for forgetting the advice given to her as she anticipates “I do.” When they fail to hear “The 10 Most Important Lessons in Life” or “3 Vital Steps to Marriage in the Real World” we know they have not failed to see all that is important in life, or all that lies before him in the real world. The opposite is usually true — their minds are abounding with all that they see.

But a graduate that receives the day and his future with disinterest, a bride that looks indifferently at the commitment before her and the days ahead of her, is much harder to understand.

We are prone to these times of assessing life — birthdays and baptisms, weddings and graduations; all seem to require careful attention. And we recognize that to be wholly unconcerned with these moments in life is to be something less than life-like. We gaze at the years ahead and look at the years behind and sense the need to say something profound, to speak into what is gone and what is coming. We see the need to find wisdom in these eventful moments, to see a hope and a future. And it is often such occasions that remind us that those who have found wisdom are particularly blessed.

Unlike much of the commencement advice that is spoken and forgotten, the wisdom of God's Word is wisdom that will not fade, nor speak into our lives passively. It is wisdom worth returning to, speaking hope into the future, bringing meaning into days both marked with excitement and scarred with pain. In times of my own restless wandering, it was often specific psalms and proverbs that kept returning to my mind, calling me to see the foolishness of much of the world's advice and back to wisdom itself, calling me to see with my eyes and ears the very One who made them.

As the proverb imparts, “Eyes that see and ears that hear, the Lord made them both” (20:12). In the season of many events and the many seasons of life, may it be his enduring wisdom we seek. As we congratulate jittery brides and excited graduates with words of wisdom, let us remember that the One who made those overwhelmed ears, the One who made our wisdom-seeking eyes, longs that they would be stirred by his presence.

__________

Copyright © 2004 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

==========================

Version from May 18, 2007:

Imagine offering the following words of mood-dampening wisdom to a group of aspiring high school graduates anxiously waiting to flip their tassels to the other side of their caps: “Life is not divided into semesters and you don’t get summers off... While we’re at it, very few jobs are interested in fostering your self-expression or helping you find yourself.(1)

In his less than cheery list of life’s rules, which begins notably with, “Life is not fair. Get used to it,” author Charles Sykes offers a plethora of hard-hitting advice and a few other stabs of reality for hopeful graduates. He sharpens his list with a few shards of truth as well: “Television is not real life... In real life, people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.”

But lest we have visions of depressed teenagers walking across the stage to receive their diplomas at the sound of such reality, we should recall that most likely none of them would hear a word of it anyway. Or if they did manage to hear a phrase or two -- in between hoping the 20 bobby pins holding their caps in place were enough or visualizing the gasp of the crowd if they trip on the hems of their robes -- they surely won’t remember it a year from now.

It is once again the season of wisdom-filled addresses and energetic advice-giving to people who are not hearing a word of it. Graduation is the occasion, and we are too excited to listen, no matter who is giving the advice.

To be fair, it is not only beaming graduates that exhibit attention difficulties in the midst of life’s pomp and circumstance. The only part of the minister’s sermon at my wedding that I remember is when he turned to my almost-husband and me and said, “This is the part of the ceremony when I offer you some marital wisdom that you don’t hear and won’t remember.”

Events like graduation come only so often, and often after much work. Like weddings, they usher in times of change and anticipation and call us to attention to life in new ways. No one blames a graduate for not remembering the commencement address or a bride for forgetting the advice given to her as she anticipates “I do.” When they fail to hear “The 10 Most Important Lessons in Life” or “3 Vital Steps to Marriage in the Real World” we know they have not failed to see all that is important in life, or all that lies before them in the real world. The opposite is usually true; their minds are abounding with all that they see.

On the contrary, a graduate that receives the day and his future with disinterest, a bride that looks indifferently at the commitment before her and the days ahead of her, is much harder to understand.

We are prone to these times of assessing life. Birthdays and baptisms, weddings and graduations -- all seem to require careful attention. And we recognize that to be UNconcerned with these moments in life would be something less than life-like. We gaze at the years ahead and look at the years behind and sense the need to say something profound, to speak into what is gone and what is coming. We see the need to find wisdom in these eventful moments, to see a hope and a future.

Unlike much of the commencement advice that is spoken and forgotten, the wisdom of God’s Word is wisdom that will not fade, nor speak into our lives passively. It is wisdom worth returning to, speaking hope into the future, bringing meaning into days both marked with excitement and scarred with pain. In times of my own restless wandering, it was often specific psalms and proverbs that kept returning to my mind, calling me to see the foolishness of much of the world’s advice and back to wisdom itself, calling me to see with my eyes and ears the very one who made them.

As the proverb imparts, “Eyes that see and ears that hear, the Lord made them both” (20:12). In the season of many events and in the many seasons of life, may it be his enduring wisdom we seek. As we congratulate jittery brides and excited graduates with words of wisdom, might we remember that the one who made those overwhelmed ears, the one who made our wisdom-seeking eyes, longs that they would be stirred by his presence.

________

1. Charles Sykes, “Some Rules Kids Won’t Learn in School,” SAN DIEGO UNION TRIBUNE, September 19, 1996.

________

Copyright © 2007 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

[Original illustration here was a duplicate in HolwickID 25837-26027]

In the beginning WAS

Something had place, being, existence. This is so different than our hold on Christianity — we declare and believe in Mirages … empty reflections of Spiritual Reality. That which IS has been replaced by that which we wish to be.

The essence of spiritual reality, being unseen, lends itself to our game. People who would never for a moment claim to have faith for a miracle of physical healing are full of confidence in their ability to take on dimensions of spiritual need and challenge. We rush to take care of the products of sin and sordidness with a childlike confidence in our ability to do so whereas if the problem were one of physical blindness or deformity we would hang back in silence. Are things easier because they are invisible?-is it easier to adopt a child than to pray for a blind man? easier to pilot a church than to heal the lame?

As the children of God our call is to find the Reality behind things. To not let Time defeat our vision because it drifts by one day at a time. To not let Emotion fill our need of spiritual food because it momentarily overwhelms our senses. To not let Projects take the place of Vision because they seem to have a more immediate substance.

Reality is to find the true measure of Time as it marches by. Reality is to find the true measure of feeling as it serves to quicken a heartfelt call. Reality is to find the true measure of Activity as an expression of the fulfillment of a God-given Vision within us.

To know God is to find life, and to know life is part of finding the purpose of God. How many of us wander around in circles within the church, trying to find a purpose and meaning in the sterile scaffolding which has been built around the essence of things eternal.

At the end of life we will see in a different light almost all of the things we have done and believed… Much that is important today will seem very tawdry and unworthy then. May God enable us to have the courage to ask Him for HIS Light on our lives… And the courage to walk in the Light He gives, no matter what the opinions of others, nor what the fears we ourselves must overcome as we “step upon the waters”.

It was the intention of my high school math teacher to demonstrate exactly what every student wonders when drudging through exercises that challenge motivation and patience to the highest degree: “Why on earth is this important for the real world?” Interspersed throughout his lessons were statistics that were intended to spur us on to greatness. “Life and trigonometry are in the details,” he said. Followed by statements like: Had the position for one of the bases of the St. Louis arch been miscalculated by only a few centimeters, the two arms of the arch would have missed one another completely. Or, a 1.3-millimeter spacing error in the assembly of a mirror within the Hubble Telescope in effect put blinders on the most powerful telescope ever made (and embarrassed a few former math students).

But there was something freeing about his vow to reveal the significance of the tedious coursework he readily assigned. He didn't see us as indolent students asking “why bother” in harmonized whines (though our motives were undoubtedly mixed and laziness was easily one of the factors.) He made it okay to ask why — even mandatory. We did well to ask what on earth trigonometry had to do with reality, because however the question was asked, there was an answer. And if we would hear it, we found it wasn't nearly as meaningless as we expected.

I have often wondered what went through the minds of the disciples as Jesus spoke of mustard seeds, and wineskins, and thieves in the night. In their three years with Jesus, I am sure the question crossed their minds: “What on earth does this parable have to do with the real world?” More than once the Gospels impart the disciples questioning amongst one another, “What is he talking about?” Imagine their excitement when Jesus promised that a time was coming soon when he would “speak plainly.”

As humans we are inclined to ask why. It becomes our favorite question at age two and something is lost when we forget it. The desire to know simply for the sake of knowing is what separates humans from animals, said C.S. Lewis. We are inclined to ask, inasmuch as we must ask, because there is an answer. As T.S. Eliot penned,

We shall not cease from exploration,

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

As the disciples watched and listened, Jesus told a crowd of people a story about seeds and soil. When he finished they took him aside and asked, “Why do you speak to the people in parables?” (Matthew 13:10).

Jesus replied, “I speak to them in parables because 'though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand.’ In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: 'You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.’ For this people's heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes... But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear” (Matthew 13:13-16).

This was an interesting response. It reminds me of the circular discussions we had as children and the why-halting words of a parent, “Because I said so.” In effect, Jesus seems to say, “I speak to them in stories they don't understand because they don't understand.” Yet even after calling the disciples blessed because their eyes and ears were getting it, he still explains the parable to them in detail.

What seed had to do with the real world, I'm not sure the disciples saw clearly before it was explained to them. But that the man before them had something more wonderful to do with reality than they could yet grasp was knowledge that opened their eyes along the journey and made them blessed.

As my math teacher urged us to see that it was our vision of the “real world” that needed revising, so Jesus compels us to see more. His parables leave us asking not only, “What does this have to do with the real world” but more invasively, they leave us inquiring, “What IS the real world?” However the question is asked, with ears hardly hearing, with eyes opened or closed, there is an answer.

The One whom men did not crown and cannot dethrone speaks truth into a truth-starved world; we do well to inquire what he has to do with reality.

__________

Copyright © 2004 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

Since the Tower of Babel, humanity has faced the almost unbridgeable gap of communication. Even with techniques and technologies, translations and interpreters, we know that grasping information and discerning meanings are not always the same thing. The people of the modern world and mindset have a deeply ingrained assumption that they have significant abilities and powers of knowing and observing, discerning meaning, and reasoning inductively. We learn elementary lessons of observation and logic, and we then learn to trust our faculties and skills.

But the postmodern influence shouts, “Wait a minute!” It rightly invites caution, scrutiny, and an acknowledgement of major influencers such as heritage, culture, and class. They may claim too much in regards to our inability to know anything, but we cannot deny some validity in their precautions. Interpretation is a difficult business.

In a missionary encounter in the book of Acts (14:8-20), we see the confusions that can and do occur. The apostles heal a man, and the locals ascribe the miracle to their gods. Paul and Barnabas prevent a sacrifice to themselves and barely calm the crowd when a third group arrives and offers another interpretation. The text reports that this group “won the crowd over” and as a result Paul is stoned and dragged outside the city. It was not simply a question of truth, but interpretation.

Understanding is not simply demanded, it must be achieved. To understand the Gospel means we must all be open to examine our lives and ways before the Scriptures. However, as we know, the Scriptures alone can be twisted or used to justify anything. This is why we must interpret as a community, by careful exegesis and in the light of tradition and history.

It is a serious error and very real problem to de-historicize biblical interpretation and to leave every man or woman to determine their individual view and perspective. We must work together in time and with due recognition of all who have gone before us. So much of the New Testament was written in the context of the new community. Old ways, perspectives, values, and habits were regularly encountered, steadily exposed, and biblically addressed. The mission and the method have not really changed. The apostle Paul is a helpful life from which to glean direction.

Paul's theology and spirituality were not sanitized, nor were they naïve. His teaching and the scriptural metaphors that guided him offer practical truth for everyday life. He did not seem to think people would automatically become nice, easy to live with, or perfect. The messy realities of people in progress were readily recognized and understood. He dealt regularly with difficult people and continually taught sinful men and women to live God-centered lives, remain faithful in heart and mind, and keep the end in sight: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7).

Paul knew well that our interpretation of reality is easily clouded by bad responses, reactions, and motives. “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me — put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9). Interpretation is a discipline of heart, mind, and practice.

To walk in truth demands humility, honesty, vulnerability, and brokenness. And every step of the journey must be interpreted through God's word and in a community faithful to that word. For some, it is too high a price to pay. But for many, surrendering to Christ is worth the cost, a struggle we commit to daily.

________

Copyright © 2005 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

Woody Allen once made the remark: “What if everything is an illusion and nothing exists? In that case I definitely overpaid for my carpet.”

The idea captured by this simple witticism reflects a school of thought whose existence can be traced down through the centuries. An easterner once told me the story of a guru who expounded the “illusion theory” in relation to pain and suffering. Shortly after pouring forth on the subject for several hours, he was seen running for safety while being chased by a wild elephant. When the guru emerged from his place of refuge, his disciple asked him why, if pain and suffering were illusionary, did he run away? Pausing for thought, the guru replied, “The elephant is illusion, my running away is illusion, everything is illusion.”

Perhaps the attraction of claiming that all is illusion is that it partly relieves us of the anguish we sometimes feel in trying to make sense of life. If everything is indeed an illusion, then there is no real need to worry, since there is nothing real to worry about. If everything is illusion, then it follows that meaning is also illusory. And since for many the search for meaning has been fruitless, the idea that there is no meaning to be found can be strangely comforting. But here lies the problem. An appeal to illusion assumes that there is such a thing as reality, hence allowing us to distinguish between the two. And if there is such a thing as reality, then everything can’t be illusion. It would appear, therefore, that to make such an appeal is to try (ineffectually) to escape from the problem rather than address it. However you approach it, it is difficult to make a flight away from reality and meaning.

Regardless, flight is attempted. And once life in general is held to be devoid of meaning, it follows that subjects such as history, the record of life’s events, become themselves a meaningless record. In a book entitled THE SEARCH FOR MEANINGFUL EXISTENCE, the author raises a very good question when he writes:

“But we must ask the question, why for this generation of young adults has even history lost its meaning? I doubt that most would be able to provide the reason. As a matter of fact, they would probably suggest that the question itself is wrong-headed, and that the burden of proof lies with those who would claim that history itself is meaningful. It is a rejection in terms of negation. History is eventless and meaningless because it was never eventful and meaningful. You can never lose that which you never possessed.”

Can we say with confidence that history never had any meaning to be lost? As soon as we make the claim, the claim itself becomes an historical statement. Even as the sentiment is given expression, it moves from the present to the past. Even the time taken to read this article now belongs to the past. Do we conclude therefore that nothing meaningful took place?

Of course, this makes the problem look a little too crude. Some claim that although historical facts may be ascertained, their interpretation cannot be. Again, this is a startling claim. More than that, as soon as it is expressed, it becomes a startling historical claim! How should we interpret it? No matter how the problem is addressed, anyone who wishes to advocate this position will find it very difficult to defend.

Maybe what we could say is that ascertaining the correct interpretation of any historical fact is very difficult. But this is not the same as saying that the interpretation is inaccessible to us. It simply means that there is a wide margin for error.

This, of course, raises several immediate questions for the Christian. Christianity does not simply claim to bring some special revelation about God in an abstract way. It claims that a revelation was brought in a very concrete way, in history and ultimately in the person of Christ. How then can the problems involved in understanding history be overcome? How could we gain a meaningful interpretation of it?

Someone once described an historian as a prophet in reverse, and it is the coming together of both of these records, of the prophetic and the historic, that makes up the series of books known collectively as the Bible. This is precisely the claim the gospel writers make. Descriptions of past happenings, predictions of future events, and the recording of these events “coming to pass” make up the written record of God’s own authoritative interpretation of both the world in which we live and the understanding of our place in it. It is a fantastic claim, and one that I think can be supported by good evidence. Have you taken time to look into it?

And it is this prophetic element that limits the degree of interpretation available to us concerning key events chronicled in the Bible. As a matter of fact, you could even go so far as to say that it prescribes the appropriate interpretation. Interpretation becomes secondary to recognition. We are not only told what events will come to pass, but how and why. Little is then left to interpretation. All that is left is to recognize a course of events when they happen, as the interpretation has already been provided by the God who made the events come about.

Not only does God provide a meaningful framework within which to interpret history, He also provides a framework within which meaning for our own being becomes possible. This is why one of the early Christians wrote, “In Him we live and move and have our being.”[1] Meaning is not illusionary because we were created for a purpose, and purpose is a prerequisite for meaning, and all of this is grounded in the reality of an ever-present God.

Looks like carpets do exist after all.

________

1. Holwick: this quotes Acts 17:28, where Paul is quoting the pagan Cretan poet Epimenides (c.600 B.C.); Epimenides puts the phrase on the lips of Minos, Zeus's son!

Copyright © 2007 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

Remember when you were a little kid and you got the “wiggles ‘n squiggles” in church, a concert, or heaven forbid, a wedding or funeral? Sitting still ANYWHERE is hard for a little kid to do, and we soon learn as adults there are certain proper behavior patterns we must follow. We calm down–on the outside, that is! Reminds me of a story about a little wiggly, out-of-control boy, sternly advised to “sit down” by his parent. He complied, only to say with a sly smile, “But I’m still standin’ up on the INSIDE!”

So what’s your posture today? Outwardly, you appear to be all together – cool, calm, collected, and quite the proper saint. Inwardly, you’re steaming and screaming–but it’s ALL under control, you assure yourself! Is it? As your Heavenly Father gently speaks, “Sit still, My child,” take a minute to listen–to quiet the turmoil of your heart, to sit down–on the INSIDE too! No one may ever detect the change in posture–but you will, and so will your Lord! Believe it–and have a wonderful no-wiggle/no-squiggle day!

Scripture: “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge… (Psalm 46:11,12).”

Prayer: “Lord, outward appearances can lie–and I’ve lied more than once lately. I look the part of the perfect saint; I live the part of the far-from-it ‘ain’t–troubled, obsessed, angry, hurt–and holding it in all deep inside. I’m tired pretending, Lord. I give all the wretched, wrangling “wiggles” rumbling around inside of me to You. Quiet my heart today. Make me to be INSIDE what I look like OUTSIDE–most of all, make me like YOU. In Jesus Name, Amen.”

In a letter to a friend, C. S. Lewis recounted a conversation he had with J. R. R. Tolkien, the author of The Lord of the Rings -- and a close colleague of Lewis.

“The story of Christ,” said Tolkien, “is simply a true myth: a myth working on us in the same way as the others, but with this tremendous difference that it really happened...The Pagan stories are God expressing Himself through the minds of poets, using such images as He found there, while Christianity is God expressing Himself through what we call ‘real things.’”

For Lewis and Tolkien, it was this universal fascination with the savior-god myth that made Christianity so convincing. To them, the historical fact of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus rouses our deepest longings in the same way as the tales of Isis, Horus -- and even Harry Potter do. But unlike these stories, Christianity is true -- the reality to which all of the best stories of history point.

In the beginning WAS

Something had place, being, existence. This is so different than our hold on Christianity — we declare and believe in Mirages … empty reflections of Spiritual Reality. That which IS has been replaced by that which we wish to be.

The essence of spiritual reality, being unseen, lends itself to our game. People who would never for a moment claim to have faith for a miracle of physical healing are full of confidence in their ability to take on dimensions of spiritual need and challenge. We rush to take care of the products of sin and sordidness with a childlike confidence in our ability to do so whereas if the problem were one of physical blindness or deformity we would hang back in silence. Are things easier because they are invisible?-is it easier to adopt a child than to pray for a blind man? easier to pilot a church than to heal the lame?

As the children of God our call is to find the Reality behind things. To not let Time defeat our vision because it drifts by one day at a time. To not let Emotion fill our need of spiritual food because it momentarily overwhelms our senses. To not let Projects take the place of Vision because they seem to have a more immediate substance.

Reality is to find the true measure of Time as it marches by. Reality is to find the true measure of feeling as it serves to quicken a heartfelt call. Reality is to find the true measure of Activity as an expression of the fulfillment of a God-given Vision within us.

To know God is to find life, and to know life is part of finding the purpose of God. How many of us wander around in circles within the church, trying to find a purpose and meaning in the sterile scaffolding which has been built around the essence of things eternal.

At the end of life we will see in a different light almost all of the things we have done and believed… Much that is important today will seem very tawdry and unworthy then. May God enable us to have the courage to ask Him for HIS Light on our lives… And the courage to walk in the Light He gives, no matter what the opinions of others, nor what the fears we ourselves must overcome as we “step upon the waters”.

"At this moment God is quite unreal to us, he loses all reality, and only desire for the creature is real; the only reality is the devil. Satan does not here fill us with hatred of God, but with forgetfulness of God … The lust thus aroused envelops the mind and will of man in deepest darkness. The powers of clear discrimination and of decision are taken from us."

-- from "Creation and Fall," by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

In a letter to a friend, C. S. Lewis recounted a conversation he had with J. R. R. Tolkien, the author of The Lord of the Rings -- and a close colleague of Lewis.

“The story of Christ,” said Tolkien, “is simply a true myth: a myth working on us in the same way as the others, but with this tremendous difference that it really happened...The Pagan stories are God expressing Himself through the minds of poets, using such images as He found there, while Christianity is God expressing Himself through what we call ‘real things.’”

For Lewis and Tolkien, it was this universal fascination with the savior-god myth that made Christianity so convincing. To them, the historical fact of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus rouses our deepest longings in the same way as the tales of Isis, Horus -- and even Harry Potter do. But unlike these stories, Christianity is true -- the reality to which all of the best stories of history point.

A popular comic strip once held the attention of millions as it chronicled the misadventures of a boy and his stuffed tiger. The infamous pair were inseparable, lingering energetically in topics both adult and childlike.

One day on a walk in the woods, six-year-old Calvin tells Hobbes the tiger that he has decided he doesn't believe in ethics anymore, because, as far as he is concerned, “The ends justify the means.” “Get what you can while the getting is good,” he reasons, “Might makes right.”

At this, Hobbes, who is stuffed in the eyes of all but Calvin, promptly pushes his human friend into a mud hole.

“Why'd you do that?” objects Calvin.

“You were in my way,” Hobbes replies, “and now you're not. The ends justify the means.”

Sitting in the mud, Calvin seems to reach a brief moment of enlightenment, until he uncovers a way to reconcile the conflict with self-interest. “I didn't mean for everyone, you dolt. Just me.”

Francis Schaeffer was a theologian who pointed out what is often our sheer willingness to live a life of contradictions. No doubt he would have applauded Hobbes for his efforts with Calvin. Schaeffer called the cultural phenomenon of living unaware or unconcerned with our inconsistencies the age of non-reason. He saw humans drifting in a sea of irrationality, no longer living as though they had to be reasonable. Yet he also contended that a person's worldview must be livable, that we must be willing and able to live out the reality we profess.

One of the most strikingly relevant things we confront in each of the four Gospel accounts of the life of Christ — besides Jesus himself — is the reactions people had to him. When in his presence, some like Mary and the man with leprosy fell instantaneously at his feet, others like the young rich ruler or the people of Nazareth turned away. In his presence demons cried for mercy, and those who needed a doctor were confronted with the question of whether or not they wanted to be well. In the presence of Christ, choices were made, realities were challenged, worldviews transformed.

I have often wondered if the unrighteous and dishonorable were the ones most responsive to Jesus because they were the ones most willing to see themselves rationally, those most willing to respond to their inconsistencies with fear and trembling. In the presence of Christ, they saw the contradictions they lived with, their unlivable beliefs, their need for direction. They saw that he was speaking truth, that he was truth, that his way was livable and theirs was not. Called into the presence of Christ, Zacchaeus saw the depravity of his existence and the thirstiness of his life. Conversely, the rich young ruler walked away from Jesus' instruction because it was a reality that he didn't want to face.

As a young boy once said to his animated tiger, “Reality continues to ruin my life.” This is certainly one honest way of looking at our inconsistencies exposed; when a worldview is not livable it cannot be true. Finding himself in the mud, Calvin saw clearly that he could not live with the outworkings of his theory (though he proceeded to mend the belief illogically). We, too, must confront the belief system that is in us, lighting our lives and making our way. We must choose to heed or ignore the words of Christ, “See to it, then, that the light that is in you is not darkness” (Luke 11:35).

I believe that the Christian faith alone makes sense of life's most foreboding questions, that it is livable because it is true. Christ gently unearths the dark and fatal inconsistencies of our lives, calling us out of the mud to consistency, pointing us out of darkness to reality and truth — to himself. In him alone we find the promise of John 8:12, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

__________

Copyright © 2004 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate in KeruxID 25837-26027]

Since the Tower of Babel, humanity has faced the almost unbridgeable gap of communication. Even with techniques and technologies, translations and interpreters, we know that grasping information and discerning meanings are not always the same thing. The people of the modern world and mindset have a deeply ingrained assumption that they have significant abilities and powers of knowing and observing, discerning meaning, and reasoning inductively. We learn elementary lessons of observation and logic, and we then learn to trust our faculties and skills.

But the postmodern influence shouts, “Wait a minute!” It rightly invites caution, scrutiny, and an acknowledgement of major influencers such as heritage, culture, and class. They may claim too much in regards to our inability to know anything, but we cannot deny some validity in their precautions. Interpretation is a difficult business.

In a missionary encounter in the book of Acts (14:8-20), we see the confusions that can and do occur. The apostles heal a man, and the locals ascribe the miracle to their gods. Paul and Barnabas prevent a sacrifice to themselves and barely calm the crowd when a third group arrives and offers another interpretation. The text reports that this group “won the crowd over” and as a result Paul is stoned and dragged outside the city. It was not simply a question of truth, but interpretation.

Understanding is not simply demanded, it must be achieved. To understand the Gospel means we must all be open to examine our lives and ways before the Scriptures. However, as we know, the Scriptures alone can be twisted or used to justify anything. This is why we must interpret as a community, by careful exegesis and in the light of tradition and history.

It is a serious error and very real problem to de-historicize biblical interpretation and to leave every man or woman to determine their individual view and perspective. We must work together in time and with due recognition of all who have gone before us. So much of the New Testament was written in the context of the new community. Old ways, perspectives, values, and habits were regularly encountered, steadily exposed, and biblically addressed. The mission and the method have not really changed. The apostle Paul is a helpful life from which to glean direction.

Paul's theology and spirituality were not sanitized, nor were they naïve. His teaching and the scriptural metaphors that guided him offer practical truth for everyday life. He did not seem to think people would automatically become nice, easy to live with, or perfect. The messy realities of people in progress were readily recognized and understood. He dealt regularly with difficult people and continually taught sinful men and women to live God-centered lives, remain faithful in heart and mind, and keep the end in sight: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7).

Paul knew well that our interpretation of reality is easily clouded by bad responses, reactions, and motives. “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me — put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9). Interpretation is a discipline of heart, mind, and practice.

To walk in truth demands humility, honesty, vulnerability, and brokenness. And every step of the journey must be interpreted through God's word and in a community faithful to that word. For some, it is too high a price to pay. But for many, surrendering to Christ is worth the cost, a struggle we commit to daily.

________

Copyright © 2005 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*