A little over a month ago, not long after the world’s most famous scientist, Stephen Hawking, died, I read excerpts from a recent interview wherein he made especially strong claims that there was no room for God, given the authority of science. I’ve followed Hawking for many years, having read his most popular book, A Brief History of Time not long after it was published in 1998. I’ve read more than a few books and probably hundreds of articles about physics, astrophysics, cosmology and astronomy. While I’m certainly not a trained scientist, I nearly minored in biology in college and am a big fan of the scientific method, here defined as

a method of research in which a problem is identified, relevant data are gathered, a hypothesis is formulated from these data, and the hypothesis is empirically tested.

While continuing to read up on many things scientific, I like to think I’m a rational person, given to reasoning through many potential implications of observable and hypothetical data points. I also like to think that I’m open to reasoned discussion and debates on a wide variety of topics … and am not a fan of hyperbole and great leaps of logic. After all, the main focus for my M.A. in Theology was Epistemology, which is the philosophy of knowledge. One cannot dive very deeply into the philosophy of knowledge without applying principles of reason.

I guess this is probably just a way of presenting context for what follows. I had thought last month to share my impressions about what Hawking presented as he was close to death. (I continued to be amazed over the many years of his resiliency as he suffered ALS while remaining completely atop his field of astrophysics.)

I was going to rebut his contentions that science and God are exclusive and his “proof” that God does not exist based upon his science-based conclusions. While I had great respect for much of his work, I was puzzled that he would leap out of his field of expertise and try to speak as an expert in a field of which he had little or no expertise.

Anyway, I got sidelined by other things and this potential blog topic was pushed back.

Until I ran across this blog post this morning from someone who does a much better job than I could have … so I’m attaching it here.

I must say that it’s quite long and very possibly of no interest to many of you but if you care to wade through it, you might gain some insight into this raging debate about the confluence or divergence of faith and science in the world today.

Good luck and here it is. Brad

As a human being who often struggles with relatively trivial difficulties in life, I have long felt admiration for Stephen Hawking’s courage and determination to continue working in spite of a highly-debilitating disease. As a physics enthusiast, I have the greatest respect for his accomplishments. But now, as a result of an article published in The Guardian two weeks ago, I also feel embarrassment for, and disappointment in, Hawking. The article reported his views on religion and metaphysics — they were unoriginal, ill-informed, biased, insensitive, and even arrogant.

The article was entitled, “Stephen Hawking: ‘There is no heaven; it’s a fairy story’.” I don’t believe Hawking is capable of such an inane statement, so I attribute this bit of silliness to the reporter’s desire for an attention grabbing headline. It’s just another example of why no one can trust reporters. Unfortunately the rest of the silliness that follows is undoubtedly Hawking’s.

For example, Hawking believes the human brain is like a computer that will stop working when its components fail. This is an old and discredited view of the human mind. The brain is not like any known computer. For one thing, computers process serially, while the brain has the wonderful ability to process things in parallel. Hawking simply has the metaphor backwards, as any computer engineer struggling to make computers more like the human brain can tell you.

This simplistic view of humans can also be faulted for his apparent ignorance of the related problems of consciousness and mind/body dualism. Consciousness is one of the great unsolved mysteries of the universe, and there are no conscious computers except in movies. Since Hawking doesn’t say anything new about consciousness, his statements about the human condition are pretentious.

The dualist/monist debate about whether or not the mind and brain are the same thing has been raging for about 2,500 years. The best philosophers in the world have failed to resolve the question, something of which Hawking seems unaware, since he takes the monist side and simply dismisses the dualist view without argument. When it comes to philosophical arguments, scientists — even great scientists — need to understand that they have no special privileges.

Hawking was also reported to have said, “There is no heaven or afterlife for broken-down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.” From an uninspired and misleading analogy he leaps into metaphysics with an arrogant disregard for the limitations of science. Science is the study of our material universe, and as such it can have nothing to say about heaven or the afterlife. It is destructive of science for one its best to loudly proclaim scientifically unsupportable and irresponsible conclusions.

Hawking certainly has as much right as any other person to speculate on the great questions of human existence. But, honest inquiry and open communication do not appear to be his intent. Hawking does not acknowledge his lack of expertise in these matters nor does he invite the rest of us to discuss heaven or the after-life as his equals. Instead he engages in a condescending and mean-spirited condemnation of deeply-held religious beliefs. There is no empathy for those who fear the darkness of an existence devoid of genuine love, objective moral truths, and the hope of eternal purpose. His message seems to be ‘here is the way smart people think, and if you think differently, you’re a pathetic dimwit.’

Hawking is blind to the wrong he is doing science. He reportedly told Diane Sawyer that “there is a fundamental difference between religion, which is based on authority, and science, which is based on observation and reason. Science will win, because it works.” There are three parts to this statement, all of which are wrong:

1. There are at least three relevant definitions of the word ‘authority.’ Hawking is using the word in the following sense:
   
   The power or right to control, judge, or prohibit the actions of others.This would be a generally accepted definition of religious authority. Hawking certainly has in mind the atheist myth that Christian leaders have over the centuries prohibited scientists in significant ways. The false allegation of Galileo’s persecution by the Catholic Church is a notable example¹. The undeniable historic truth is that Christian faith and beliefs were the necessary foundation of modern science.Hawking should keep in mind two other important definitions of authority:An expert in a particular field.The ability to influence or control others.Hawking, as a renowned expert in physics, has significant influence over others — he is a scientific authority. When he uses this sort of authority to make pronouncements that go far beyond the scope of legitimate science, Hawking is the one abusing authority.
2. I wholeheartedly agree with Hawking that science is largely based on observation and reason. So, what has Hawking observed to lead him to the conclusion there is no afterlife or heaven? Has he teleported to the far reaches of the universe? Has he managed to visit the other seven dimensions that string theory posits to exist? Has he somehow escaped the confines of our universe to see what is outside? Has he at least had a near-death experience? If his beliefs are not based on direct observation, then what exactly does Hawking’s reason tell him that has eluded so many other great thinkers before him?
3. In what way does science work better than religion? Science gives knowledge of one kind, but it cannot give humankind a viable ethics to live by²or explain the meaning or purpose of life. The Bible does these important things for billions of people. Even for non-Christians, the dominant moral system in the world today has its roots in Christianity, which is the major reason the world has never been safer or more prosperous than it is now.Furthermore, the Bible is arguably superior to science as a source of truth about our universe. Is Hawking aware that the Bible states that the universe had a beginning³, that it was created out of nothing⁴, and that time in our universe is relative⁵? Scientists didn’t figure any of this out until the 20th century. Genesis 1 alone makes at least 26 scientifically testable statements about the creation of the universe and the origins of life. All 26 are consistent with current scientific understanding and in the correct order. The inconvenient truth for atheists is that the Bible somehow beat science to important truths by about 3,000 years.
   
   Science works in an important but very narrow sense — it assists humankind in understanding and controlling much of the natural world. But it also gives people tremendous destructive power. Without religion to give people direction in the choices they make about using that power, humankind could end up destroying itself.Finally, if you compare societies around the world in regard to which works best, science or religion, one fact of supreme importance will jump out at you. Generally speaking, non-religious peoples are not reproducing themselves while religious ones are. This single aspect of a society overrules all others; if a nation doesn’t reproduce itself, it is irrelevant how many other wonderful qualities it may have because they won’t be projected into the future. In the long run, atheist or secular humanist societies, no matter how scientific, don’t work because they lack the power to continue.

Hawking goes on to say that the concept of religion is in constant conflict with his life’s work — science, and understanding the most basic ways in which the universe works — and it’s almost impossible to reconcile the two. The first part of this statement is an old atheist lie: there is no inherent conflict between Christianity and science. Hawking either ignores or is ignorant of the historical fact that the Christian faith and beliefs made science possible in the first place. If you doubt this, take a look at when and where modern science developed and flourished, along with the religious beliefs of the great scientists who laid the foundations of science.

This is not to say that there hasn’t been conflict between science and religion, but it’s not the fault of Christianity. From at least the time of Darwin, secular humanists such as Thomas Huxley have misused science and misrepresented Christian beliefs in an effort to undermine the influence of Christian faith. The truth is that some scientists are in constant conflict with religion because of their atheist beliefs, and they betray science as a result.

The report reminds the public of Hawking’s position that it is “not necessary to invoke God … to get the universe going.” He has maintained this position since very early in his career, telling German news-magazine Der Speigel in 1988 that “what I have done is to show that it is possible for the way the universe began to be determined by the laws of science. In that case, it would not be necessary to appeal to God to decide how the universe began.”

He’s not saying that he knows the cause of the Big Bang. He is saying that he has constructed a mathematical model of a possible explanation. To say something is possible is meaningless and useless. It’s possible that somewhere in the universe, blue gooses lay gold coins with Hawking’s likeness on them. Like Hawking’s statement, it’s not scientific, because no one can prove it’s not true. The other weakness of his argument against the necessity of God is that it requires the laws of nature to be eternal. They would have had to ‘predate’ the universe in some manner that can never be scientifically proved, such as the emerging atheist myth of the multiverse.

Hawking continues, “This doesn’t prove that there is no God, only that God is not necessary.” Hawking is at least aware that science cannot be used to prove that God does not exist. Instead, he engages in the weasel argument that there is effectively no God since anything that is not necessary can be ignored or discarded. It’s like a child denying the necessity of parents. Child to parent: “I’m not saying you don’t exist, you just aren’t necessary. I can live without you, so just give me the keys to the house and the car along with your credit card, and go away and leave me alone.”

Scientists such as Hawking and Richard Dawkins start from a bias against God and then play in a child-like way with concepts to justify their prejudice. Just as a child cobbles together some rough approximation of an airplane out of Lego, Hawking imagines that he has constructed a viable worldview that doesn’t rest on the notion of God. But he has explained nothing and ignored almost everything of significance. He has his mathematical model of a godless universe; don’t bother him with the mysteries of what came before the Big Bang, the origins of life, the sudden Cambrian explosion of animal life, the nearly universal human need for spiritual beliefs, or the greatest mystery of all, the origin and meaning of human consciousness. He has his toy and wants to show it off.

Then Hawking says something that gives an important insight into the workings of the atheist mind. The report continues, “And it’s his work that keeps him going — even if there isn’t a heaven.” “I’m in no hurry to die. I have so much I want to do first.” This statement illustrates the most telling and annoying aspect of atheism: atheists seem incapable of taking any of their beliefs and reasoning to necessary and obvious conclusions. They dismiss God and the afterlife, argue that the material world is all that exists, assert that man is the measure of all things, and conclude that people can free themselves of religious restrictions and do whatever they want. If you ask them to continue with this train of thought, they usually make some kind of vague statement about a life in the service of humankind and the possibility of a kind of immortality in the sense that society will remember a person’s good deeds ‘forever.’

The problem, of course, is that it is delusional nonsense. What any good scientist should know is that our material universe is very likely heading toward what is called heat death, a state in which energy no longer exists in a form that can support life. But even before this occurs, the human species will have become extinct anyway. What is the point of doing anything in this life when you will be annihilated in the blink of a cosmic eye followed in short order by the rest of humankind? If atheists really believed this, they would either commit suicide or become Buddhist monks. But the vast majority of them continue to act as if human existence has some kind of meaning greater than that of their material state. If Hawking is right about God and the afterlife, every trace of humanity will be destroyed, all of Hawking’s work will be lost, and every effort he makes will be futile.

What he is really means when he says he is in no hurry to die is that he values his existence and he wants to keep on existing. He feels he has purpose, but he does not wonder where that purpose could possibly come from. He’s not thinking his own position to its logical end, which is that without God his existence is pathetically finite and ultimately meaningless. He says there is no God, but acts as if there is.

Interestingly, Hawking has also made headlines in recent years over his views about the existence of aliens, and what interactions between our races would be like. “If aliens ever visit us, I think the outcome would be much as when Christopher Columbus first landed in America, which didn’t turn out very well for the Native Americans,” he said.

Here we detect the pessimism that will always be a result of atheism (as well as a lack of imagination based on what little he thinks he knows about the past). Without God and the hope for the redemption of humankind, he has no reason for optimism, no belief that things will work out better in the future than in the past. Christians believe this because they believe that good is stronger than evil, that by following God’s direction people can always triumph over evil, and that good therefore must be the future of humankind. That’s why, for instance, evangelical Christians, not atheists, put an end to the worldwide slave trade; that’s why Christians, not atheists, marched into horrendous Civil War battles singing, “He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,” and ended slavery in America.

In spite of all this, I still believe Stephen Hawking is a hero. He has persevered with a debilitating disease and done tremendous work in theoretical physics. But what do you do when a hero lets you down? There’s a line from the Gordon Lightfoot song, “If You Could Read My Mind,” that goes “The hero would be me. But heroes often fail …” That’s what I think about Stephen Hawking. When it comes to religion and metaphysics, he has failed, but he is still a hero in a way that does not diminish the meaning of the word.

I came to believe in God because of what I learned about the universe. I had the good fortune not to go to Oxford and be saturated with humanist bias against the “God hypothesis.” When I look at the structure of the universe and life on Earth, I see evidence of a great mind at work. I am sorry for Hawking that he can’t.

I heard a message the other day that resonated.

All of us get in ruts. Ruts are those things that basically direct us and have walls and sharp edges. In a sense, they act as controlling influences in our lives, oftentimes with less than desirable results. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say, “Boy, am I in a rut and it’s awesome!”

One of the main reasons we get in ruts is that a thing that at one time might have seemed good, like a new job or a new relationship, has lost its allure and no longer pulls us forward in a compelling way. The bloom is off the rose. Everyone who has felt this, raise your hand. 🙂

Some ruts are pretty benign. “I can’t seem to improve my golf game.” Others can indicate serious problems, such as “I can’t stop drinking.”

Essentially, these ruts are of the spirit. We are in ruts because the things we had previously thought would provide us meaning no longer do so. They indicate a crisis of meaning, which is a spiritual thing, regardless of any links to religion.

The things that seemed to glitter, perhaps bringing us a degree of happiness or a sense of fulfillment, no longer seem to do so.

Which is one way of describing addiction.

Another way of talking about this is to speak in terms of idols. Idols are things that we worship because we want something from them. A grand quid pro quo. I know that the word “worship” immediately calls to mind God or gods or religion. But it doesn’t necessarily mean so. Worship is actually a form of surrender to things to which we concede control over our lives. All sorts of things can become objects of worship … idols, if you will. Children, spouses, jobs, financial security, fashion, movie or sports stars, political affiliations, and so on. Unfortunately, when we set these things up as greater than they really are, we create idols, hoping they fill a hole in our lives … providing a sense of meaning. And, they will always disappoint. Always.

One of the byproducts of that disappointment is boredom. We’ve relied on some things to give us meaning but they fall short. Or, they provide a serious diversion from other things in our lives that should carry more importance. Since they underperform our expectations … like a lackluster (or worse) return on investment … we either up the level of attention and commitment, which can lead to addictive behavior, or we do the opposite: Descend into boredom, cynicism and/or complacency. We all know the results. Disenchantment, burn-out, and withdrawal are all possible outcomes.

Which brings us back to the nature of meaning, which is not a physical thing but a spiritual thing. I’ve used the metaphor of the compass before. I read recently that the earth’s magnetic field is really changing at an unprecedented rate. The magnetic north is moving rapidly to the west and will end up at some point in Siberia, quite aways from the North Pole. This is causing no small problem for navigation as GPS systems are being adjusted in order to adapt and make sure we don’t go off course.

I bring this up because magnetic north (constantly shifting) is quite different from true north. The North Pole is the north pole. A compass that actually pointed to that very specific spot would be pointing at true north. Immovable. Constant. Reliable. It can be counted on to always be there.

Do we get meaning from things that shift as I’ve been describing? Or, do we get meaning from a thing or things that don’t shift? Idols shift. I’ve mentioned possible outcomes.

What to do?

Well, first is to rethink the whole thing. Change the paradigm. Metanoia in the Greek. Repent. Admit the way things are. Open up to someone. Try on transparency to see if it fits. Seek support from others who have had similar experiences and can testify to how they’ve changed for the better.

A life of abundance is possible and I’m not talking at all about material abundance. In fact, the dogged pursuit of material abundance is one of those false norths and counterproductive to spiritual abundance which is another way of saying a permanent state of fulfillment.

Complacency, which is a byproduct of boredom (if boredom hasn’t deteriorated into cynicism) is, to me, a truly sad state. The complacent person is one whose vision is sketchy at best. At worse, it is non-existent in any real sense. And, without vision of where things could be, that remarkable force we call hope, is like a mirage. The complacent person has a kind of hollow feeling about things. It is what it is. “What else can I expect?”

One does not find abundance while living in a rut. To me, the abundant life is one where we can meet suffering head on, feel and express grief, find deep and transcendent joy in, perhaps, very small things, experience what it means to be pulled forward by great hope, and where we wake up each day to new possibilities and opportunities. It means being willing to change and, especially, to surrender the worship of transient idols. 

What if joy and hope held a stronger position in our lives? What if we possessed greater resiliency when things just don’t seem to be going where we’d like or take a serious turn for the worse? Where joy and hope reign, boredom and complacency are sidelined and lose their power over us. The pursuit of happiness also loses its allure as happiness isn’t faithful.

Spiritual complacency is not all that far removed from a withering spirit. I believe that “religious” people are no different from “non-religious” people. Perhaps even worse. They’ve bought into a paradigm that is either inauthentic or hasn’t produced the desired results.

When the Samaritan woman at the well offers Jesus a drink, he demurs, telling her that he is there to offer her “living” water instead. This living water is the nourishment that is permanent and offers abundance in ways the world doesn’t perceive. It is the antidote to boredom and complacency. All we need to do is get off our butts, be willing to rethink some things, shift our focus towards the undeviating true north and get ready for the ride of a lifetime. 

I recognize that my audience includes practicing Christians, skeptics and a few who are either believers of another faith tradition or who have faith in atheism. Which a nice group!

For the non-Christian, this reflection may seem fanciful or bizarre. Had it not been for some experiences growing up and into adulthood, combined with my perspective on human nature and the lengths we go to destroy all that is good, I might have just dismissed what I’m going to say out of hand. Even so, it took a leap (which I believe to be rational) to take these words of the apostle Paul to heart.

As translated in the New International Version of the Bible, in his letter to the church in Ephesus that we call the Book of Ephesians, chapter 6, verse 12:

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

Or, as translated into current vernacular in The Message, verses 10-12:

And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.

A few verses later, Paul tells us exactly what those “weapons” are and I can testify first hand that I have deployed them on more than a few occasions. Maybe more on that later.

So, here comes the part that can get really weird to those with modern sensibilities.

Now, most people believe in evil. Many of these people believe that evil is an intrinsic thing. It’s not just a really bad action by some really bad people. It’s a thing all of its own. Some would refer to this as a dark force … sort of like the thing we get out of the Star Wars stories. There are forces for good and evil and they both can tug on us to varying degrees.

The modern sense is that mankind has always struggled with understanding this tension and has done a good job of deifying the conflict, assigning humanlike or person like features to make it more apprehensible. That modern sense then dismisses this as mythology, not grounded in reason. Giving credence to some itinerant religious guy (Paul), who went around planting early Christian churches two millennia ago, is not in the cards. I can understand.

Well, here is what Paul is saying.

All of us live within a massive reality, a good deal of which we don’t see or understand. This supernatural reality exists in both our dimension and a dimension that we normally don’t see (while occasionally seeing) but makes our reality infinitesimally small in comparison. While this is his contention and the contention of the majority of humans today, including some very rational people, it runs contrary to contemporary cultural trends that can be classified as materialistic. What you see is what you get (or want to get!).

And, says Paul, this reality is a battlefield. I mean, really. A battlefield. We exist in a kind of cosmic war, with far reaching implications that we should not only recognize but respond to. With determination. With weapons. None of us is excused from the battlefield. All of us play a part, whether or not we realize it. This is the beginning of what he’s saying.

Which brings us to the battlefield and the players in his scenario. (An important aside, first. Everything Paul says can be traced to the teaching of Jesus. It is often said of Jesus that he was as a lamb, gentle and innocent. He is casually airbrushed to match human longings for a loving God who is forgiving of all shortfalls. However, he is also referred to as a lion, a roaring giant of a creature who has no peer and whose power in nature is overwhelming. This perspective speaks to the human longing for a God of justice. These are two sides of Jesus, which causes no lack of divisiveness in the Christian faith and no lack of interpretations of the value of Jesus’ teachings in the world at large.)

Paul recognizes that life, itself, is a battle, a constant struggle. He even admits (in the Book of Romans 7:17-20) that he does things or behaves in ways he knows are wrong and almost can’t help himself. He refers to this as sin, a predilection towards things that are not good or healthy. Paul was one heck of an introspective guy and is, no doubt, very hard on himself. (Note: Being hard on one’s self is not in current fashion as the contemporary mindset leans towards gratifying the self and the “fact” that all personally-held values are inherently equal and good.)

So, goes the thinking, we are all, by nature, engaged in this battle but (and here comes the kicker) those personal and internal battles are just the manifestation of the larger cosmic battle of which there are actually identifiable players. This is the exact opposite of the aforementioned conclusion that any cosmic significance is the manifestation of purely natural impulses. I’ve been watching this debate for a long time now.

So, let’s cut to the chase and call it as it is.

Paul is describing a scenario whereby we are getting it wrong. We think that the battle is earthly. It’s about our “flesh and blood.” No, our battle is with the dark forces that exist outside of nature and, yes, they are real, having form and substance. These dark forces intersect with us spiritually, although they can also manifest physically from time to time. This, of course, is the “enemy” the demons aligned with the Devil, the Satan, the fallen angel, Lucifer, who challenged God for primacy, was banished from the presence of God but allowed to exist for a time (one of the great conundrums that I’ve addressed before and will probably address again) and still exercises dominion over the hearts and minds of humans.

The “weapons” that the demonic use are lies of all kinds, whispered into our existence, primarily for the purpose of getting us to see that we can be our own gods, which was the point of the whole falling out of favor thing in the first place. These lies can come in many flavors. Some tell us that we are worthy of great esteem and should be venerated and even worshipped for our great accomplishments. Others tell us that we lack worth and value and should therefore be pitied. The lies tell us that, in the end, we are alone and that “self-actualization” is the fundamental quest. We are the masters of our fate and it’s a winner take all struggle. The lies promise all sorts of rewards and masks them beautifully. God binds us and the death of God frees us. Frees us from superimposed morality that suggests we all carry the seeds of evil in our hearts; instead we should realize that our desires are all good and should be nurtured and fed in the search for earthly happiness, which is our right.

My favorite depiction of this battle comes in a little book by C.S. Lewis entitled The Screwtape Letters. I have read it several times and marvel at the author’s wit and insight. It was written in England during the Second World War so, literarily, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I urge you to get a copy (libraries are good for this!).

Lewis also had this to say about the demonic realm and the chief demon:

There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.

So, really? Isn’t it the height of irrationality and superstition to believe in all of this? Certainly, a case can be made that this kind of thing is just human projection of the same kind of fears little children have of things that go bump in the night. Isn’t it just plain bizarre to think that there are actual creatures … possibly looking like vicious gargoyles with wings and claws, smelling of foul odors, whispering deceit into our ears, guiding us towards idolization of self over all things, leading us away from God and the life that God offers?

I find it curious that so many people believe in “good” energy that we can “send” one another or that there are guardian angels or any kind of angel for that matter (a lot of people believe that, when arriving in heaven, they will receive wings). But that “dark” energy isn’t really considered or that, missing out on heaven, we grow claws and barbed tails in the hereafter.

I have written about angels before but to make things seem more confusing and fanciful, the suggestion here is that the good angles (also referred to as the heavenly host) are in a constant battle with the bad devils or demons. If it’s true that these are actually physical creatures, it’s certainly appropriate to ask how the heck they’re doing battle? Swords and arrows? Wrestling matches? Traditional Christianity posits that the heavenly host is incredibly vast … millions and millions of them. It also posits that the chief fallen angel, the beautiful and self-absorbent God wannabe, Lucifer, took about a third of the host, agreeing to become traitors in their quest to unseat God and defeat the remaining faithful. Failing miserably, their corruption manifested physically and their beauty turned to unparalleled ugliness, whereby they live on (remember that the reason for this is a fascinating study in itself). And from that, we have the battle for the souls of all mankind, God’s greatest creation.

What a fairy tale!

Or, maybe not.

To be continued.

Color me the New Year’s Grinch. Or maybe just a nod to the cynical side momentarily rearing its head.

Now, I’m not bemoaning celebrations of the New Year or the festivities that abound on New Year’a Eve (tonight). Lord, no. Although everyone who knows me knows I haven’t actually rung in the flip of the calendar for years (decades?). Early to bed, early to rise is pretty much a 365 day practice, with a few exceptions, none of which are associated with Dec 31. No, I think celebrations are a good thing, especially when the thing being celebrated is worthy. What is being celebrated tonight? Well, to be blunt, it’s hope, of which I’m an incredibly big fan. More on this in a moment.

As I mentioned recently in a post, I tend to be a creature of rhythms and patterns. Most people are, of course, as many sometimes refer to them as routines … the things, both small and large, that help us govern our lives and protect us against unwelcome uncertainty or, even, chaos.

Perhaps the most established point of reference in all of this is the arrival of a new year on our annual calendars. Of course, there is nothing distinctive, really, between December 31 and January 1 but the fact that we flip a digit as we will tonight from an 8 to a 9. A year from now we will even get to flip two digits. 🙂

We all know that this is also the time to take stock of what happened during this last year and to maybe think about what lies ahead. These aren’t just days flowing into other days but, instead, a special break in the action, allowing for a pause and reflection.

This is also the time when, typically, people think about New Year’s resolutions, those promises, whether they are in secret or open to the public, whereby some of us dedicate or rededicate to do something differently. I was thinking about this early the other morning as I have a different perspective.

While thinking about it, a phrase came to mind: Hope springs eternal.

I take this to mean that everyone hopes and everyone hopes all of the time. Yes, some have given up on hope which is just another way of saying they have given into despair.  Please don’t take that as being without empathy. I hope (yes, hope) that I never have to experience pure despair going forward. To me, it’s the antithesis of being alive and fully human.

Setting aside a thing like despair, we are always on the lookout for something better. Perhaps momentary bliss or joy at something truly beautiful that has invaded our regular lives, then fades quickly from its lofty perch. Then, we return to earth with a fondness of the memory but on the lookout for a repeat performance, some thing that will make our lives just a little bit better than they are right now.

Enter New Year’s resolutions. As we all know, good things often come to those who work hard. Not always but often. And, sometimes we need a kick start … a push to rev up the engine so as to help bring about those good things.

I may be in a minority but I need to admit that I’ve never been a fan of making these annual resolutions (or promises or fiats). Honestly, I’ve tried once or twice but they don’t work for me. I suspect they don’t work for me because they don’t motivate me and I suspect they don’t motivate me because they don’t make sense. Maybe it’s just me.

So, these resolutions are all about motivation. And, I guess, the flipping of the calendar and some kind of tradition offers enough motivation for many to seek change now and to be “resolved” to make it happen. All power to them! I’m a big fan of motivation, because I’m a big fan of transformation, seeing it as an expression of our creative nature coupled with the “hope springs eternal” element.

But, once that moment of the flipping of the calendar passes, the effect of that singular point begins to lose its significance. There have to be other factors that allow the motivation to be sustainable. The factors that make for a darn good reason to change our behavior or attitude, regardless of the initial push.

In other words, what really changes anyway? We need to institute practices that are, in fact, disciplines that end up reorienting our lives in deep ways.

Cue in diets and exercise, two of the biggies that are used to bring about weight loss and general good health. Most people don’t like diets and exercise (of any substantial nature) because they’re hard and our lives are already hard enough. How many of us have resolved to lose 10, 20, 30 pounds or more and have even busted our behinds to do it, only to see those pounds return with grim fervency? All of that motivation, all of that hard work, gone. Poof! Talk about a demotivation.

Or, maybe it’s about having a better attitude at work or at home with loved ones. Maybe spend less time doing one thing and more time doing another.

All of these attempts and resolutions spring from hope … a hope that good effort will bring about the desired results. Question: How many of us can recall a New Year’s resolution, either our own or of someone we know, that truly succeeded. In other words, just before the flip to another new year, it was said, “Wow. I truly succeeded. My hard work, begun last January 1st produced all of the intended results!” Or, “you know that resolution I set three years ago? Delivered. In spades. It’s the new normal.”

Well, maybe we know of certain examples but here’s where we get to the nitty gritty of my thoughts on the matter.

Are we regularly surrounding ourselves with the kinds of influences that foster positive change? Are we allowing our challenges the kind of transparency that invites close friends and family in so they can be our support network? Transformation is the real goal and it’s also a powerful (if often hidden) desire for most of us.

I know a person who says he can’t change. I suspect this bothers him on many levels for many reasons. I believe he believes things would be better for him and the people he comes into contact with if he could change but he’s so used to the way things are right now that he really can’t imagine being different.

I know a number of people who have changed dramatically and in very good ways. They have substantially changed their attitudes and behaviors. In many ways, they are new persons, although it could really be said that the innate goodness in them was freed up for full expression and the darker parts (inherent in all of us) lost their grip. These are amazing stories. The cause? Motivation. The starting point? A pure act of almost superhuman will.

Neither of these are tied to a new year.

But, many of us aren’t motivated to do a 180. A full makeover. What we want is to tweak the system, hoping that the tweaking will bring hope forward into reality. Such as “I resolve to be nicer this year.”

Regardless of the reason for the desired change or transformation, I think it’s pretty arbitrary to wait until Dec 31 for a launch point. If the thing is a real thing (not just an off-the-cuff thing conjured up to say “I found a New Year’s resolution”), then it hardly makes sense to delegate to Dec 31 the motivation to dive in. If it’s at all meaningful, why not just do it whenever? As I’ve been trying to say, why not let the problem, coupled with the hope for change, be its own motivation?

There are some things in me that are very hard to change. And there are some things in me that I would have thought were very hard to change but it turns out they weren’t as hard as I’d originally thought. And, there are things in me that I thought were very hard to change and it turns out they were hard to change but change they did. In this sense, I can identify at least somewhat with the challenge facing the person I described earlier.

I am a lifelong educator. As such, I’ve placed my focus, always, on how change in the right direction is a good thing (we can debate what a “right” direction is). Life is a series of adaptations to changing circumstances which are, of course, a fundamental aspect of reality. All living things change to meet those circumstances or else they wither. Withering is in the despair category.

My favorite formula for all change is incredibly simple. I didn’t invent it but have found it, without fail, to be spot on in its accuracy. As easy as 1+1=2. It is that three factors need to exist in balance in order for change to occur. They are Vision, Intention (Will) and Means. For our purposes here, Vision can also be referred to as Hope. Intention/Will can be referred to as Motivation and the Means is the stuff we include to assist us, once our hope is matched with our motivation. Shortchanging any one of these can throw the thing out of whack. This is why New Year’s resolutions (and many hoped for changes) fail. We can be strong on hope but lack the will or the means to bring that hope to reality.

One last emphasis. I think a lot of failures occur when we just don’t develop the means. We don’t expand our tool box to include a lot of features to help us. We aren’t in active support networks, which is a huge means thing, that increases motivation when things are tough. In other words, we can think we can pull ourselves up by our own boot straps but when push comes to shove, it’s not enough and the motivation begins to slip and the hope begins to fade.

Oh, one final thought in what has been a stream of consciousness that has so far not touched on issues of faith. And that is, the example and promises of Jesus can offer a vision that is so powerful and alluring that motivation is enhanced immeasurably.  He also offers many of the resources so, in effect, each of the three factors listed above that are required for change are laid out in a supernatural blueprint. You are welcome to agree or disagree!

With all of that being said, I wish each of you who are reading this a new year filled with hope and promise, a new year that will see changes in you that you’ll reflect back upon and say, “it was good!”

Blessings,

Brad

Dear Friends,

I want to wish you all a merry Christmas and thank you for the time you take to read my lengthy reflections. In keeping with the theme of today, whatever your beliefs, I pray that rays of hope and joy grace your lives and that your hearts may be filled with love.

Brad

Our little Friday morning band gathered ten days ago at 7:30am as we do almost every week. Because dear Susan, in whose name and case we began over five years ago, was traveling, Diane and I happily opened our home. There were eight of us as six or so of the other regulars were either also out of town or unable to attend. Regardless of the number, it was a mighty collection of people, most of whom are either facing none-too-small challenges or who are closely connected to others who do. Yet, as always, our gathering was punctuated by laughter and love, appropriate to the counterpoint of the occasional tears which rightfully fall in our midst.

Our leader, Kiki, suggested that Diane and I pick the song which always acts as a connecting bridge between the early fellowship and updates and the core prayer segment to follow. We chose one of our favorite songs of this season and it is to that I turn now.

No one knows the exact date of Jesus’ birth. While there is substantial record of circumstances leading up to and surrounding his birth (and, of course, of his ministry some thirty years later), long tradition has settled on December 25. (Interestingly, Easter has a more concrete place in the annual calendar due to the events of Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion and resurrection being intertwined with the Jewish Passover. In fact, the Last Supper was the Passover meal.) There are all sorts of reasons why we can’t pinpoint the date of his birth but that doesn’t mean a fixed date now is of less relevance. For centuries, we’ve observed December 25 and it still works.

For the public at large, Christmas Day is a holiday in this country and a chance to be with family and friends. It’s normal for children of all ages to open gifts in the morning although some families choose to do that the previous evening. Christmas has become as much a secular experience as one with the obvious Christian overtones. I have some mixed feelings about that but my feelings aren’t all that strong. I’m a fan of celebrating the finer things about what it means to be human, whatever the guise.

Having said that, I do have strong feelings about why I celebrate Christmas, which won’t be a surprise to anyone reading this. Fundamentally, it calls me into a degree of focus perhaps a bit more purposeful than at many other times during the year. I’m a practitioner of rhythms. Rhythms of the day and rhythms of the seasons. Some would say I’m borderline OCD because of how I like patterns. Perhaps patterns are a way of making sense of the chaos of life (certainly my last profession was about thriving amidst potential chaos). 🙂  Anyway, the weeks leading up to Christmas are especially profound in that they bring to the forefront the concept that God chose to invade human space so specially.

I may have mentioned before that, since 2005, I have set aside a three hour timeframe where I can sequester myself, don headphones and listen to the entire rendition of Handel’s Messiah, the masterpiece of putting scripture to music. For me, it is an extended prayer and now a fundamental piece of my patterned Christmas preparation.

I am reminded of this because today is Christmas Eve and the song we sang ten days ago in our little group is best recalled tonight. It is well known and performed in many different ways by countless artists. I have my favorites but it is the lyrics that require me to let all else go for the mighty truths they express. It is, of course, O Holy Night.

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine! 

Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!

Now, these words will justifiably raise all sorts of questions. Obviously, the promise of a breaking new and glorious morn or a world governed by love and peace can ring flat. Our world is hardly ruled by love and peace and many mornings break seemingly without hope. The world still lies in sin and error pining. (Pining is synonymous with brokenheartedness.)

But, in the fourth line, Jesus appeared and the Spirit felt its worth. In other words, the Spirit of God in the hearts of men were like turbocharged, bringing that thrill of hope.

For that’s what Christmas morning is about. The thrill of hope. The thrill that the one whose law is love and whose gospel (good news) is peace shall triumph. And, in that triumph the chains will break and the slave (of course, we are all enslaved to one degree or another … the topic of a future reflection) will be our brother. Oppression, in this reality, is replaced with compassion and a servant’s heart.

No, the final chapter has yet to be written but the story is being written daily on our hearts with the promise of Christmas morning alive. I see it everywhere. To me, it is inescapable and I have no alternative but to rejoice and join in the grateful chorus.

Count me strange, but I take the resounding “Fall on your knees!” phrase literally as well as figuratively. I have no other posture by which I can face this God who loves me so. But, the cool thing is that from those knees, we rise up in praise and sing with abandon of his power and glory.

Many things distinguish Christmas Eve. We will be going to church later this afternoon, then gathering with some twenty-two family and close friends to feast and celebrate community. Our home is packed with people and dogs; Christmas music and decorations punctuating our spaces. We are most fortunate and it is time to set aside our cares and anxieties, if just briefly, in honor of the one who gives us so much.

If interested, you can find many different versions of this song on Spotify or YouTube. I’m holding out hope we sing it later today.

O Holy Night, thank you. Amen.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Love,

Brad

Yes. Of all the things that made me hang on by a thread at times to the belief that there really is a supernatural and that that supernatural intersects with our world and does so with intention and purpose, it was a singular experience on an early December evening in 1975. An experience that proved the existence of a Supernatural that/who knew who I was and cared for me. Yes. Proof.

Say what? Proof of a miracle? Yes. No other possible explanation.

Oh, you can chalk up this or that occurrence to a miracle (and I do) but so many of those are wide open to skepticism for good reason.

Not this one.

Sorry, skeptics. This one is ironclad. Absurd? Yes. But, I’ll get to that.

I have told this story many times and, now, consistently for over forty years. I’ve told other stories of my powerful interactions with a supernatural reality but, honestly, none hold up to the most careful scrutiny as this one when it comes to evidence of a personal Supernatural.

You see, I had a problem. Not a huge problem, mind you. In fact, in the scheme of things, it has to rank as near the bottom of problematical problems. I mean, against all of the things that are wrong with the world, from illness to wars to natural disasters to you name it, this problem doesn’t warrant a blip on the radar. In fact, when set against all of the problems in my life, neither would it register there. Which makes this particular problem and the experience even more worthy of consideration.

Ok, here was the deal. This was my senior year in college and I’d overcome my first year’s fairly sloppy start to turn into a very good student. I was conscientious and hard working. Living off of an academic scholarship, holding down a job and determined to do well in my classes. So, there was this final exam the next week in a course and the professor was holding an evening review session at 7pm. I lived maybe ten miles from campus and usually got there by hitchhiking during the day. However, one of my roommates, Jack, had this car that was not the most reliable but it beat hitchhiking in the dark. In fact, his car had been struggling with fits and starts recently but we were optimistic it would get us there.

Unfortunately, when Jack tried to start the car, it spit and sputtered but didn’t actually start.

(I need to say something extremely relevant here. I basically did not know how cars worked. Yes, I could change a tire and put oil in when it needed it. But, I grew up with zero experience with the inner workings of automobiles. I knew there were batteries and that a mixture of air and gas would cause small explosions to drive pistons that would make the tires go round. But, how that actually happened held little interest with me.)

At which point, Jack got out, opened the hood and took off the large round air filter that resided atop the carburetor. I stood by him, passively observing. He then got back in the car to try again as I held my position adjacent to the engine compartment. Rrrrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrrrrr. Engine sort of bucking and struggling but it did not start.

Things were looking pretty bleak about getting to the review session, which was scheduled to begin in something like 15-20 minutes. I was frustrated and felt defeated. At which point, I prayed.

Honestly, I had come to believe by that point in a supernatural reality, which in my mind was probably manifested in various enlightened beings, some of whom would actually know who I was. The jury was out on a unifying being like a God. Nevertheless, I sought the assistance of this other realm in the manner of a regular prayer. I remember looking upwards into the night sky and praying, “Please. We need to get to that review session.”

Now, this is almost humorous. In the history of prayers, this has to register as one of the weakest and stupidest. Of how much consequence is a review session for an exam? In fact, I’d been a good student and would probably get along pretty darn well without the extra help. But, curiously, that’s not the point, which makes this whole thing even more incredible!

For, as soon as I said my prayer, the most amazing thing happened. A thing that is as vivid now as it was back then. A thing so remarkable on so many levels that I still find myself unpacking it.

Picture Jack with his driver’s door opened, left hand on the steering wheel and the right on his key in the ignition. Picture me, easily able to see Jack and vice versa, standing a few feet away, arms at my side with only one real care at the moment and that was that the engine would start.

When all of a sudden, to my complete surprise, my right arm swept up and across my body, not under my control, and my right hand landed flat on top of the engine mechanism called a carburetor which had laid underneath the air filter but was now fully open and exposed, the engine trying to turn over, making noises and shuddering.

And my palm stuck there. On the open carburetor. I was frozen, unable to move it.

Picture Jack’s face as he witnessed this. See his eyes open wide as he tried to process the fact that his good friend had done something really crazy, his eyes also recognizing the shock on my face. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop.

And, then, the car started. The engine turned over and the car started.

Followed immediately by my right arm sweeping back across my body and returning to my side. I had not intended any movement and was purely a witness to this bizarre situation.

Followed by Jack leaping out of his driver’s seat and yelling at me, “What the &%$* did you just do?! What happened?” (Granted, I don’t remember his exact words or mine that followed but I guarantee I have the gist of it.)

We both stood there in silence until I finally replied and said, still stunned, “I don’t know. All of a sudden my arm just rose up and my hand slammed down on the engine and it scared the &^$* out of me. Then the car started and it flew back.”

Jack thought for a moment and then concluded, “Your hand must have created a seal over the carburetor, cutting off its air supply and forcing a vacuum. There must have been a block in the fuel line and the vacuum created a suction and removed the block. This is crazy.”

“But Jack,” I replied, “I wouldn’t in a million years know how to remove a blockage in the fuel line, and I would certainly not slam my hand down on an engine that’s making sounds and bucking around!” I didn’t do this. All I did was pray.”

So, why am I telling this story? Two reasons.

The first is that, I have never found an alternative explanation for how this happened. This wasn’t a case of spontaneous healing where a valid skeptical response could run something like this: “Well, sometimes the body just heals on its own.” No, this was a highly visible and observable physical phenomenon. And there was a witness. I’ll repeat that there was a witness. That negates any objection that I dreamt it up or was/am lying. Jack saw exactly the same thing I did and was equally astonished. We both related the story immediately afterwards and for years later without change. (He’s a believer to this day.) Another legitimate objection would be that I somehow, subconsciously, knew what to do. As that line of thinking would go, I, knowing how a carburetor was all about mixing air and fuel and thinking that there was a clog, determined that I needed to create a vacuum and the best way to do that was to seal off the top of the machine with my open hand. This falls apart on so many levels as to be ridiculous. I knew none of this and was not in control of my arm and hand, pretty much horrified at what was happening.

The fact is that I was frustrated and resorted to a simple prayer in a kind of desperation. And, immediately afterwards was a witness as my arm and hand did their thing and then flew back to my side, right after the engine turned over and was running fine. Jack’s car never had a problem like that again. I am willing to listen to anyone’s take on the event that does not include supernatural intervention. I’ve never heard any indication that there is one.

So, the first reason for telling this story is that I witnessed and participated in a miracle.

My second reason for telling this story is that in the many years afterwards, when I was largely adrift spiritually, this singular event stuck with me as proof that there is a reality beyond what can be scientifically proven and had solely natural causes. And that there was and is an intelligence behind it all and that this intelligence knows who I am, cares about me and even responds to me. This caused me more than my share of consternation.

As I alluded towards the beginning, this whole episode didn’t measure up to the kind of thing that a Supernatural (I’ll call it God) would pay attention to if you know what I mean. Lord knows I prayed for a lot of things after that and didn’t get anything close to that kind of response. More importantly, I constantly heard the cry of the Jews in their European ghettos as they were dragged into cattle cars, sent to the camps, gassed and incinerated. I saw poverty and illness and discord everywhere. I knew that millions suffered, despite prayers. Where was God? What kind of being was God, anyway?

Why would he show up so vividly for something so trite in my life and be absent or seemingly care-less in the midst of so much that was more important? I just couldn’t resolve the dichotomy.

I have said that I fought God for thirty years. It is told that the ancient Hebrew Jacob (son of Isaac, grandson of Abraham) wrestled with God all night, for which he was renamed Israel, which means something like “he who struggles with God.” I can relate.

That the holy man Jesus, great moral teacher, could actually be God just didn’t make complete sense to me. What was with all of the selective healing, yet allowing evil to run rampant? Prayers? Miracles? It just didn’t compute.

But, throughout, I never forgot that December night. Just because I couldn’t resolve that with all of the rest, didn’t mean God was at fault.

Until I finally made sense of it. At least in my simple mind. It became clear as a bell almost exactly thirty years later at (come to think of it) the same time … about a quarter of 7pm.

In another miracle, I heard his voice and he let me know that he had been with me since the very beginning. He was always there, beckoning, but allowing me to choose my own path.

You see, he had given this very rational and skeptical person proof that there was a supernatural reality where I was cared for. Perhaps the absurdity of the whole thing was a major reason it stuck with me so strongly for so long.

It’s now been almost fourteen years and I have seen and experienced a great deal since then. The fact is that I see God’s active hand constantly. I have spoken to extremely trustworthy and intelligent people who have been party to physical miracles that are beyond comprehension. Yes, I believe that God chose to intervene and cure my very dangerous condition three years ago. Why me, yet allow Shannon to die? I can only conjecture but I won’t go there now.

Do I believe in miracles? You bet. Do I believe God knows me and loves me without condition? Without a doubt. Do I believe that God so intervened in his world that he became man, about which we celebrate in a few days? Yes, I do.

Do I believe God answered a young man’s prayer to help get to a review session by commanding a hand to seal the airflow into a carburetor? Yep. Believed it then and believe it today. I’m pretty sure that Jesus still laughs about that one and that the angels still dance with delight.

And, I join them with laughter and delight that God so loved the world (and me) that he was born in the City of David so long ago. Amen.

I’m here to tell a story. A true story.

But first ….

Do you believe in miracles?

Interesting question. The percentage of Americans who believe in miracles is declining, with the faith increasing that science holds all of the answers. Depending upon the poll, how the question is phrased and the demographic breakdown, still a whole lot of people believe in miracles.

Now, when most people think of miracles, they quickly go to physical healing. For some inexplicable reason, a terrible thing just vanishes, sometimes virtually overnight. Even jaded doctors are left with just a good-natured shrug and, perhaps, a statement somewhat like, “Well, sometimes we just don’t know. The body is a complicated thing!”

But, let’s get back to the question.

I’ve written about this before but had another conversation about it the other day. And, of course, this is the time of year when the better part of over 2 billion people around the world (to some degree) profess belief in a miracle.

Without putting too fine a point on it, let’s just agree that a miracle is an event that cannot be linked to any possible natural explanation. It is outside of all laws of science and nature. By definition, then, a miracle is a supernatural event.

Here, perhaps, is where miracle-believing or God-believing people sort of go, “So what? Of course.” Non miracle-believing and non God-believing people respond with some variation of “There are other explanations and just because we can’t figure it out, that doesn’t mean there aren’t perfectly valid natural solutions. Heck, look how science continues to take the mystery out of stuff! People ascribed all sorts of supernatural causes to things that we’ve long since discovered have very reasonable natural solutions.”

As someone who considers myself quite rational and inquisitive, I don’t submit lightly to claims of miraculous events. I’m a big fan of science and the skepticism that undergirds all real scientific processes. Scientists are rightfully driven to break things down and examine them in the most minute detail, searching for clues that maybe others have missed. They have every right to be extremely suspicious, if not downright put off by quick claims like, “You know, God did that.”

Now, I started this whole reflection and blog process almost three years ago when diagnosed with what I was told was an inoperable condition at the base of my brain that was extremely serious and potentially quite deadly. Top neurologists and neurosurgeons could not explain whey this condition popped up but they agreed that I had a time bomb quietly ticking away smack in the middle of the most complex part of the most complex organ in the human body. Of course, within days or weeks, probably over a hundred people started praying fervently for healing … for a miracle, given that the scientists (gifted neurosurgeons) didn’t have a reasonable solution. As readers of these pages are aware, during that time, I was also close to others who suffered extreme physical challenges, the most tragic of which was when our prayer group leader who fell ill at the same time as I did, died within weeks, despite the prayers of hundreds of people. When my situation was resolved some months later without any reasonable explanation, I know that many people claimed (and still claim) that it was a miracle. That God had cured me. This rankles others for two main reasons. (1) If there truly is a loving God, why did he cure me and allow Shannon (and countless millions of other people over whom hundreds prayed) to die? etc…. And (2) just because doctors couldn’t figure out why it spontaneously healed, that doesn’t mean there was not a natural explanation … see above.

Full Disclosure: I do believe that God’s hand was in my healing (and very possibly in the hand of a woman I know who prayed over me and who said she immediately felt heat leaving my head). But, I also agree that my situation is not “proof” that miracles are real. No.

All of this brings me to a very fine point. As I like to do, I try to whittle away at a question to bring it into focus and to allay any ambiguity. In other words, pick your poison. Choose the most likely explanation.

The primary question, of course, is there such a thing as supernatural? I mean a state of reality that is fully outside of nature, whether that nature is currently observable or not? People who can collectively be termed Naturists or Atheists say no. There are many bright and good people who line up this way. I have respect for their thinking. If we accept my simple definition of a miracle, they would have to conclude that there is no such thing.

The following question, for those who believe in some supernatural reality is, does that reality have intention. In other words, can and does that reality intersect with our own, despite being outside of our own? Furthermore, does that reality intersect with purpose and cause things to occur that would otherwise be completely impossible? Most people line up here to some degree but that doesn’t inherently make them right.

Most people who know me, know that I was long a seeker, a searcher, trying to discover what is really true about the whole shebang. I questioned most things, both consciously and subconsciously. I was always about trying to learn more, see what I was missing, finding holes in popular truths. This obviously made me a “doubting Thomas” as one of Jesus’ disciples is remembered. “No way! Show me the proof!”

After all, I was a son of the Enlightenment, a world-shaping movement that was all about freeing the human mind from the shackles of myth. But, hey, I also had some concept of God, which is why I battled so hard for so many years. To me, the two worlds just didn’t line up. Far more often than not, God was on the losing end.

And, he might have lost if not for one thing.

That thing was the carburetor in the engine of my college friend Jack’s somewhat decrepit old Datsun car.

To be continued.

Well, there are probably many ways to figure this thing out but the fact of the matter is …

I had a large lump that didn’t go away. When it was finally biopsied, there was a mass that I could see on the screen and the doctor could both see and feel. She said it was not a cyst but definitely tissue. She took a sample and the cells were abnormal, the particular characteristics of which would definitely present as possible malignancy. Hence the specialist referral and the MRI, which occurred yesterday.

The online report came in a couple of hours ago and the doctor’s analysis followed an hour or so later. There was nothing there. No mass. No abnormality. No sign of anything amiss. Anywhere. It was just gone.

I don’t pretend to understand all of this. This is the second time something like this has happened to me. I know many people who suffer terribly, despite fervent prayers. I am humbled by the fact that this has occurred again. There was something with the potential to be dangerous and now it’s gone.

Go figure.

I know there will be discussion about exactly what happened. My doctor recommended I have a follow up with the specialist in a month. No problem.

But, for now, I will thank Jesus, who I know to be real, for intervening. I don’t know exactly why. And I will thank the many, many dozens of people who have taken the time to pray for me amidst everything else that goes on in their lives. What a blessing.

I went to lunch at Panera with my friend, Paul, yesterday. The young lady pleasantly took our order. As she was processing it, I asked her name and she replied, “Sarah.” Then, with a smile, I asked her what she liked most about her job. She barely hesitated and then said, “the people.” To which I asked, “and how do the customers treat you?” Surprisingly, she said, “not well.”

I said I was sorry and then asked her how we were doing? Her eyes lit up and a big smile came across her face and she said we were great.

Paul and I ended up talking for a few minutes about how some people suffer terribly but that many of us in our relatively safe and protected culture don’t consider that much beyond the typical challenges faced by close friends and family.

In Sarah’s case, she felt it was ok to admit something to a stranger who, strangely, asked her a point blank question that she’d probably never been asked before. And, then, for at least a few minutes, she felt something opposite, maybe a touch of joy from the personal touch of a stranger.

Lord, help us, once again, to connect with invisible people and show them that they are cared for. After all, that’s a reflection of you, when all is said and done. Amen.