Before that point, I cannot say I was ever lonely. Perhaps I was momentarily lonely, but it was never a state of existence. Yet, those first months in Africa, I frequently found myself alone. And it was a loneliness that often drove me to tears.

It hurt.

It was in those first months, as I was learning the language, that I lived out in my small little village. My partner had not arrived from the States and the only other westerners I knew were a long trip away. The village was small and remote. The people all spoke a language I could not understand, and even if I could, they did not understand me. In the beginning, they were more like subjects than people. I could not see their personalities, their humanity. I saw strange faces that I could not read.

Last week, I was reminded of those emotions, but it was in the least likely of places.

The New York metropolitan area has around 20 million people. It is the largest population center in the United States and is one of the largest in the world. Amidst rows of high-rise apartments and company headquarters, people scurry around from place to place. Subways fill with riders, pedestrians fight for taxis, and the lines at the corner grocery store snake around the building.

People are absolutely everywhere.

As I struck up conversations with people, or as I tried, I was met with that famous, cold New York stare. It appeared as though these city dwellers had no desire for human contact or conversation of any kind. The multitude found a way to exist on top of each other without any connection to one another.

Nevertheless, I was persistent.

As I continued to push for conversation, people began to drop their defenses. Shocked that someone actually wanted to talk to them on the subway, a smile would warm their cold expression as they shared about family or work. Others, relieved to find someone who would listen, poured out concerns, worry, and grief. Frequently, what I found under that unapproachable shell was a tender personality guarding itself from the harsh world outside.

Yet, in a place so full of people you cannot turn around without bumping someone, I began to notice a constant refrain. The repeated chorus was one of isolation. Subway riders, crowded by the people around them, felt isolated. People filling sidewalks and crowded sandwich shops were somehow by themselves. And as these people talked of their lives and hurts, the song they sang was called Loneliness.

At first, I was surprised that loneliness was such a common theme in a city of 20 million people, but soon it made sense. For, loneliness is not about how many people you have around you but the type of people you have around you.

Some of my conversations were with people who had grown up there, others had moved there for work or a chance at a new life. Whatever the case, in the chaos that surrounded them, the screams of the multitude made it impossible to find those single voices that make up one of man’s greatest needs, community.

In the beginning, mankind was created with a need for real relationship. God said that it was not good for man to be alone. Furthermore, it is evident that one of God’s chief aspects in his design of man was relationship with him. God walked with Adam in the garden. It was community in its truest sense.

Then man tanked creation in the fall, and we have been screwing up community ever since. God has, yet again, provided a haven of real community. It is his church, and in it, we find a piece of what was lost in that garden so long ago. And one day, those who are in Christ will once again live in perfect community with each other and God himself.

But today, New York City is a testament to man’s need for community. It is, indeed, a lonely multitude.

Truly, scripture often uses the imagery of light, and it does so in a positive manner. People are encouraged to be light, to not hide their light, to be in the light, and the word of God calls itself a light to our paths. In these instances, light represents either guidance, openness and honesty, or the ability to see the world correctly. It is often a reference to testimony and has a missional bend, one that calls us to share our light with others.

That being said, I make reference to none of these images.

A lot has changed since Biblical times, and while each of the above images concerning light encapsulate a timeless truth, what was once a scarce resource (light) is now readily available. In a literal sense, we have more light than we know how to use. “Why do I say this?” you may ask.

Well, for the first time this weekend, I saw Times Square.

It is almost ironic that this is my first time in New York City, considering the amount of travel that I do. I have seen some big cities, and I am accustomed to crowds. I have walked the crowded streets of urban centers, and I have seen buildings so tall you cannot see the top from the bottom. Yet, when I stepped out of that subway entrance on 42nd Street, I was struck by a new emotion, and it was because of the lights.

Times Square is arguably the most commercialized piece of real estate on the planet. As a matter of fact, it is famous for its wall-to-wall billboards, its flashing lights, and making New York City the city that never sleeps. I topped the stairs that led out onto the pavement, and I was met by thousands of people, scurrying around, bags in hand. Some were shopping, while others were taking pictures with Elmo or someone dressed up as the Statue of Liberty. People bounced in and out of stores and restaurants, bustling around each other as they ran to see the next thing.

Yet, in the midst of this chaos, one cannot help but look skyward. It is unavoidable, because towering over the city streets are the most lights I have ever seen in one place. Giant high definition billboards line the square on all four sides, as high as the eye can see. Images of Coca Cola and Calvin Klein flash across skyscrapers. News headlines race each other around the sides of buildings in bold red lettering. Illuminated posters for Broadway productions tower over people, and clips from the next blockbuster movie play nonstop on screens bigger than the theaters that show them. The sensation is overwhelming.

For some, this glittering marvel stands as a testament to the technological achievements of mankind. For others, it represents the height of American culture, showcasing our wealth and prominence. But for most, it is simply a good time, a place to run for satisfaction.

As I stood there, trying to take it all in, a number of realizations hit me. First, perhaps this is why we have such a problem with attention deficit in America. There is no way to wrap your mind around the busyness of Times Square, and that is how we want it. That is what makes it so grand, and that is how we expect life to be all the time. We are plugged in and constantly connected. Unless on-demand entertainment is always available to pacify our few moments of quiet during the day, we do not know what to do with ourselves. We are so addicted to distraction, we have found ways to keep it in our pocket at all times.

Second, ever-increasingly, the driving force in American culture is pleasure. To be fair, it is not only American culture, and Times Square was certainly an indicator that many other peoples have swallowed that hook as well. Yet, it is apparent that the highest goal in the American mind is rapidly becoming self-indulgence. We couch it in many things. Sometimes it is called happiness. Other times we make it more spiritual and call it fulfillment. Nonetheless, we run after whatever makes us feel good.

As I stood in the middle of that mayhem, lights took on a different meaning for me. They embodied an endless pursuit of fulfillment that never ends with satisfaction. Please do not misundertstand my point. Times Square is not evil nor are billboards or entertainment. However, when it becomes the driving force in one’s life, it has invaded a throne that belongs to another.

In a world of lost souls, this is to be expected. In the church, well, that is another story altogether.

I was reminded of this truth over the weekend. After I finished my last final exam for the semester, I made my way back to Tennessee as a surprise for my former students. Each year, our college ministry holds a mystery trip in honor of the graduating seniors. The students dress up in formal wear and go they know not where.

This year, I was part of the mystery.

And for good reason. This group of graduating seniors was the last class I lead in ministry before moving to Africa. They were my final students. For them, my serving as guest speaker was a fitting end to their four years. And for myself, it was the last page in a chapter of ministry.

As I stood up in front of the room, I looked around at the ones with whom I shared life. They were familiar faces in a room of people I did not know. Now, they were departing, spreading out, quite literally, across the globe. Some plan to continue school; others plan to start a career; and several leave soon for foreign lands.

We rehearsed stories that made us laugh, and we thought back to times that made us cry. It was truly a testimony to the power of the gospel. For, it is the gospel that brings together a church. It is the gospel that takes those who were once not a people and makes them God’s people. And once a people, it is the power of the gospel that keeps that community, that strengthens that community, and that causes it to stand.

That gospel is undefeatable.

I watched over the years as circumstances tried to destroy that community. Sometimes it was internal issues, disagreements theological or otherwise. At other moments, it was outside forces, the death of a parent or the utter chaos of natural disaster. But in those moments, the things that sought to destroy God’s people did nothing more than prove just how powerful the gospel really is. In times when people should divide, they would unite. When life tore people down, others would wrap their arms around them and help them stand.

Instead of division and destruction, I witnessed guidance and growth. I watched the gospel transform the lives of these students. I watched as the gospel compelled them forward, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and sharing the good news that first changed them. It was the power of the gospel at work every step of the way.

Now, I was watching them leave.

My first reaction was one of concern, like a parent afraid of children stepping out of the nest. I know the safety that great church community provides for those students. My fear was, and still is, that they will not find another community like the one they are leaving. It would break my heart to see them wander without the essential lifeline of the body of Christ. That is a dangerous road that will inevitably cripple any believer.

Yet, as I spoke to those students, admonishing them to stay the course, a realization occurred. The gospel is undefeatable.

God, in his great kingdom purpose, takes the one group and multiplies it out over the globe. These students, having tasted of the goodness of the gospel, having lived in the community it births, now push that light into dark corners.

And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven (Matt 6:18-19, ESV).

In 1978, Christopher Reeve stepped onto the silver screen in a pair of blue tights, and the modern superhero movie was born. Since then, a steady stream of cape-wearing tough guys have danced, or flown, across the big screen, fighting evil wherever it may exist. These movies catch the American mind. People line up at the theater to spend a few hours in Gotham City or Metropolis.

While they may be entertaining, and perhaps even a taste of nostalgia, superhero movies actually have a far more vital role to play in the cultural life of our great nation. Truly, you could say this purpose is why they really exist.

They are easy sermon fodder.

As a matter of fact, it is almost too easy.  Superhero movies are, by far, the easiest to baptize. You would almost think the writers plan out these scripts to be chopped up into sermon illustrations. I am convinced that if most superhero movies were cut up into a collection of three or four minute chunks and dispersed evenly throughout the text of Romans 1-8, this activity would magically birth a sermon series.

This is why the youth minister at your church wears t-shirts with superhero logos on them. Furthermore, observant church members will actually discern a notable change in the behavior of their ministerial staff the month prior to a superhero movie. This month is the big wait.

But on opening night, a cornucopia of insightful little sermon illustrations are revealed for the taking. Low-hanging spiritual fruit is nicely packaged in superhero one-liners and villain monologues.

Yet, how can you know if the superhero movie you are watching is, in fact, sermon worthy? The following are sure signs that a superhero movie is coming to a pulpit near you:

Obscure, yet thought-provoking, character origin

If the movie spends time talking about the superhero’s origin, then it is a good bet you are watching sermon fodder. These stories usually take one of two different directions. In the first instance, the superhero is from another world. He is not human; he is something more. Or, a character is born out of insurmountable circumstances or catastrophe. When all seems lost to tragedy, a hero is forged in the flames of disaster. Now, that’ll preach.

Well-developed bad guy

Everyone knows that a superhero has to have a bad guy. In fact, the villain is every bit as important as the guy in the flashy tights. And the more evil this guy becomes, the more likely he will wind up being discussed in the pulpit.

A villain gets bonus points if he easily represents the philosophical problem of evil or sin. Can the villain be used as a metaphor? Take, for instance, Darkseid (pronounced dark side) from the Superman storyline. His name says it all!

Sacrificial theme

This one needs little explaining. When the selfless hero pours out his might and virtue for the sake of the masses, powerless to save themselves, ministers will actually take out paper during the movie to scribble down thoughts on how this will fit into their current sermon series.

If, at any time, the hero appears to die or gets buried

In truth, this is an extension of the prior sign, but it is significant enough that it deserves its own headline. This rare event will always occur in the last epic battle of the movie. Evil is at its worst, suffering at its height, and the odds seemingly insurmountable. In this darkest hour, the hero is overcome. The villain deals a blow that sends the hero to the ground. Perhaps he is shot, or maybe an entire skyscraper lands on him. Whatever the case, in that moment, all hope is lost. As the glaring sounds of silence fall on the theater, hope draining out of hearts, a hand emerges from the rubble. The hero, once thought dead, is reborn, and evil is conquered. When a movies kills the hero and brings him back to life, a superhero movie earns the coveted spot of the pre-invitation anecdote. It is the home run story right before the altar call.

Be on the lookout for The Avengers to sneak its way into the next sermon you hear. After all, it masterfully accomplishes its purpose as sermon fodder. And come June, watch your ministers get the jitters as the big wait begins for what may be the most epic superhero movie ever made.

In today’s skeptical world, many are too “sophisticated” to believe the fantastical events presented in the gospel story. The stories of Christ healing the sick, casting out evil spirits, and raising the dead are relegated to the realm of fairy tale, made to sit in the corner with Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood.

Yet, if we actually read these accounts of the man, Jesus, we see a different story. In fact, the reason these Gospels are filled with such amazing stories is so that we might believe.

Luke tells us the purpose of his Gospel. Writing to Theophilus, presumably a Christian himself, Luke says he wrote his gospel “that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught” (Lk 1:4). In his introduction, Luke also lets his reader know that eyewitnesses were consulted and this story carefully documented. Luke’s intent was no mere fairy tale. His hope was not to entertain, or even provide some moral fables to inspire us to live a better life. Instead, Luke tells a story of documented historical fact and utmost theological significance.

It is the story of a man like no other.

In Luke 5:1-11, Jesus is beside Lake Gennesaret (the Sea of Galilee) teaching a crowd of people. By this point in the story, Jesus had already said that preaching the good news of the kingdom was his purpose. That was his mission, so, in chapter 5, we find him doing just that.

When the crowd gets a little too big and begins to press in on him, Jesus asks a fisherman to row him out in a boat a little ways, so he could speak from there. The fisherman, who was busy cleaning his nets after an unsuccessful night fishing agrees and pushes out into the lake with Jesus in the boat. The fisherman’s name was Simon, but you probably know him as Peter.

As Jesus finished his teaching, he turned to Peter and told him to cast his nets. This may not seem like much to us today, but Jesus was not a fisherman, he was a carpenter turned teacher. Imagine a preacher walking into an auto mechanic’s shop and telling him how to rebuild an engine. Furthermore, Peter had fished all night and caught nothing. There were no fish to be caught. Peter knew this.

Yet, Peter obeyed.

As the boat was sinking from the weight of the fish, Peter cries out for help from his companions in another boat. The catch was bigger than one man could bear, and as these fishermen reeled in the biggest catch of their lives, fear filled their eyes. This was no mere man in the boat with them.

Just as the disciples said of Jesus at another point in the story, Luke 5:1-11 must cause us to ask the question, “What manner of man is this?” It is Luke’s intention to draw his readers to a clear understanding of the Christ and how Jesus, as the divine Son of God, has power over all creation. Jesus is no mere man. As is evidenced in the larger section where this passage resides, Jesus has power over sickness, the supernatural world, and even the natural order. Jesus, the Christ, has all authority.

Furthermore, Jesus is on a mission. He is to preach the good news of the kingdom (Lk 4:43), and it is his desire to call others to that task. In this passage, Jesus gives good guidance to Peter and the other fisherman concerning their vocation. However, he gives a life-changing call when he tells them to drop everything and follow him.

Jesus is the great guide. He is master, and he is Lord. This is the first and foundational implication of Luke’s message, that the reader recognizes the unique character of Jesus and sees his authority as certain and his guidance as perfect.

In light of this truth about the Christ, Luke tells a story of human response.

With this understanding of Jesus, how now shall one live? Serving as examples of obedience, Peter and the other disciples demonstrate the appropriate response to the good guidance of this great master. Peter’s immediate response is instructive. Falling to the knees of his master, and now lord, Peter realizes his position in the relationship. While Peter’s understanding of the true nature of Jesus may still be limited in this story, Luke is clear to portray this event as a meeting with God. Luke communicates to the reader that Peter rightly bows in humility, acknowledging his sin, before Jesus Christ, the very Son of God. Peter’s example calls all who read Luke’s words to respond in like manner to this Lord.

Finally, as the disciples cast away their nets, truly, their livelihood, so also must we cast away all that stands between us and service to Jesus. Jesus calls Peter and these men to a new life. Service to this master is not a part-time venture. Luke, by showcasing the right response of these men, calls us to complete obedience to Jesus as master and guide through a radical reordering of every facet of life.  When you have bowed before the master, no other priority of life eclipses following Jesus in his mission of preaching the good news of the kingdom.

Luke’s words stand as true today as they did on the banks of Lake Gennesaret. While few today drop literal nets to follow this great guide, all must fall at the master’s knees and let nothing stand in the way of following his call to preach the good news of the kingdom.

When it comes to Bible stories, it appears the more famous ones are in the Old Testament. If you walk up to some random Joe on the street and ask him to tell you a Bible story, odds are it will be about Noah and the flood or Moses and the Red Sea. Perhaps, you will hear about David and Goliath or Daniel in the lion’s den.

You would think, since all the famous stories are in the Old Testament, that Christians would be more familiar with it. Yet, it seems that just the opposite is true. With the exception of these specific stories, most Christians have very little knowledge of the Old Testament. When it comes to our devotional life, or even the sermons we hear, the vast majority come from the Gospels or Paul’s letters. Besides, who needs the Old Testament, we have the New Testament? After all, that is where Jesus is, right?

Admittedly, I know far less about the Old Testament than the New.

However, this semester found me in the Old Testament… a lot. If you have yet to notice, go back through and look at my posts from the last couple of months. The Old Testament is, of late, a recurring theme for me. But this is a good thing. I have classes in the Old Testament at the seminary, I am writing a rather large paper on the Sinai covenant in Exodus, and of all the books in the Bible, my church is currently walking through… you guessed it… Exodus. I cannot get away from the Old Testament.

The Old Testament makes up about 75 percent of the Bible. and the New Testament is only 25 percent. The Old Testament covers a period of history from the beginning of time until the post-exilic period (a very long time), and the New Testament covers roughly 60-90 years (save the end times discussions of Revelation and other books). Now, I do not bring this up to say the New Testament is not as significant as the Old. However, if I have learned anything this semester, it is the necessity of the Old Testament. While Jesus may not be named in the Old Testament, he is all over it. Furthermore, our understanding of the New Testament rises and falls on our understanding of the Old Testament. We cannot rightly understand the gospel if we do not rightly understand what came before it.

If, as I have mentioned in other posts, the Bible is one grand story, we must not relegate our study of that story to the last act. There is more to the story than the last act. All that makes the gospel beautiful rests on the story that develops out of the first five books of the Bible. All of the writing and prophets expound upon that great story, and it builds to the crescendo. That crescendo is a man named Jesus. Yet, without the back story, the person and work of Christ makes little sense.

These last few months have challenged me to pick up the task of understanding the Old Testament. It is the long journey of continued study, but it is, after all, the greatest story ever told.

My only point in writing this post is to challenge you to do the same. The journey starts when you open the pages.

On some level, I think most of us do. If something is hard, most of us would rather have somebody just explain it to us. I do not want to put the effort into figuring out difficult situations or concepts. Just give me the CliffsNotes. While we may get away with that when it comes to Wuthering Heights in our high school English class, it hurts us in most areas of life.

Take our approach to the Bible. I am convinced that most people who sit in a pew on Sunday rarely pick up their Bible at all during the week. After all, we are busy people, and it is not like we are going to get a grade for reading the Bible this week. It has no due date, and we will not receive a promotion at work for doing it.

Furthermore, (and I think this is the real issue) we have a pastor to do that for us. The Bible is big and it was written a long time ago, and our pastor went to school just so he could understand it. Why not let him explain it to us?

Recently, I was reminded of this widespread problem in our churches when reading a book called Gospel and Kingdom, by Graeme Goldsworthy. He is a really smart chap down in Australia who writes a lot of stuff about the Old Testament.

Now, if we are honest, we have problem enough with the New Testament. The gospels and Paul’s letters are confusing enough, but the Old Testament just seems too hard. Think about how many sermons you hear from the New Testament compared to the Old Testament. We are far more comfortable in Luke than we are Haggai.

In this particular book, Goldsworthy talks about the importance of understanding the Old Testament, something that really only comes from reading it. Take note of his conclusion. He makes a very good point about the effect of not knowing the Old Testament.

Here is what he says:

A person may become a Christian without much knowledge of the Old Testament. Conversion does, however, require a basic understanding of Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord. The Christian cannot be committed to Christ without being committed to his teaching. It follows that Christ’s attitude to the Old Testament will begin to convey itself to the Christian who is carefully studying the New Testament. The more we study the New Testament the more apparent becomes the conviction by Jesus, the apostles and the New Testament writers in general: namely the Old Testament is Scripture and Scripture points to Christ. The manner in which the Old Testament testifies to Christ is a question that has to be resolved on the basis of the New Testament, since it is the New Testament which provides the Christian with an authoritative interpretation of the Old….

Failure to grasp this truth — largely because the proper study of the Old Testament has been neglected, has aided and abetted one of the most unfortunate reversals in evangelical theology. The core of the gospel, the historical facts of what God did in Christ, is often down-graded today in favour of a more mystical emphasis on the private spiritual experience of the individual. Whereas faith in the gospel is essentially acceptance of, and commitment to, the declaration that God acted in Christ some two thousand years ago on our behalf, saving faith is often portrayed nowadays more as trust in what God is doing now. Biblical ideas such as ‘the forgiveness of sins’ or ‘salvation’ are interpreted as primarily describing a Christian’s personal experience. But when we allow the whole bible — Old and New Testaments — to speak to us, we find that those subjective aspects of the Christian life which are undoubtably important — the new birth, faith and sanctification — are the fruits of the gospel. This gospel, while still relating to individual people at their point of need, is rooted and grounded in the history of redemption. It is the good news about Jesus, before it can become good news for sinful men and women. Indeed, it is only as the objective facts are grasped that the subjective experience of the individual Christian can be understood (Goldsworthy, Gospel and Kingdom, 19-20).

Ultimately, when we do not read the Bible, we think the story is about us. We make our life, our faith, and our relationship with Christ all about a personal experience. The focus becomes what we get from it instead of Jesus himself.

However, as we pick up our Bible for ourselves and begin to read the story, we realize our name is nowhere in those pages. The story, while certainly applying to us, is not about us at all. Instead, the whole book, cover to cover, is about a king.

Our king.

It is funny. For years, 30 was that age off in the future. As I got older, I stared at 30 down the end of the long hall, thinking, “At least I’m not 30 yet.”

Today, I stand on the other side of that number. I am 30.

Is it a human tendency to evaluate oneself on their birthday? That appears to be how I spend mine. I often sit back and think through my life, with its twists and turns, its unexpected detours from the road I only thought I was traveling. Inevitably, I find myself attempting some measurement of this endeavor’s success.

Has life been successful?

If my comparison is the American Dream, then I screwed up big somewhere along the path. For starters, I am not married. I have no children running around in the yard of a house I do not own. Over ten years out of high school with an undergraduate and graduate degree under my belt, and I should be sitting in some office somewhere running a lucrative company or pacing a courtroom while I attempt to persuade a jury.  Perhaps, I should be running for office. That seems to be a fashionable thing to do lately.

Instead, I live in a small apartment. I work part time as an Internet consultant. I sit at home, in my Ninja Turtle pajamas, staring at a computer screen. Sounds bleak, huh?

But then, I remind myself of my accomplishments. I have a few. After all, the reason I live in this tiny apartment in the first place is my pursuit of a PhD. Dr. Cook sounds nice, does it not? Somehow though, this pursuit, in itself, is as empty as the first.

Or, I think of my journeys. I watched the sun rise over a Cappadocian desert and watched it set over the Atlantic Ocean (and the Pacific for that matter). I have done things most people will never do. I traveled the world. I lived in the jungle. I experienced cultures, peoples, and places that most will never see. I heard the sounds of tribal drums calling a village meeting to order. I sat under mango trees philosophizing with chiefs and elders. Yet, at the end of the day, this brings no real satisfaction either.

At most, these things, whether a fancy title in front of my name or a checklist of adventures, only pacify a sense of significance.

In the end, this stacking up of deeds makes no one successful. We must agree with the wise Solomon when he says, “I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind” (Ecc. 1:14). For, a deed done simply for the sense of accomplishment is no real deed at all. There must be a purpose or it is a deed done in vain. However, it cannot be any purpose. It must be the only purpose that gives meaning to all life.

In the beginning, God made man for a reason. We were to worship God by exercising dominion, in his image, over his creation. We have always had a purpose, but we tossed it away. We sought our own purposes, and now all of humanity strives after the wind. We try to grasp air.

A successful life does away with its own purposes and runs back to those for which it was created. The wise king says it this way, “The end of the matter, all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecc. 12:13).

Those same vain, empty actions discussed above, when imbued with real purpose, become the obedient steps to success.

May your life be a real success.

Missionaries are taught to be culturally sensitive. We read books about it. We take classes in it. And, before we leave the country, we have to sit through an orientation on some compound out in the middle of the woods learning about it. For, the task of a missionary is to learn the language and culture of those to whom they are sent.

It is a principle more people need to learn.

Take for instance the newest culture. It is a global culture, one that spans international boundaries, space, and time. When Al Gore invented the internet, a small little world was birthed into existence. This world existed inside phone lines and computer servers, but that made it no less real.

At first, this world was only inhabited by nerdy college professors and geeky role players. However, thanks to Mark Zuckerberg, this small little cyber world exploded and took over the globe. Already, it is the third largest country on the planet by population. Seventy percent of Americans actually have dual citizenship, also owning a little piece of internet real estate.

Facebook changed all the rules. But with this new world comes a new culture. It has unique norms, unique traditions, and unique rules to govern its society.

Hence, the Facebook Foul.

As with any organized society, there are cultural rules that dictate how people relate to each other. The following is my proposed list of activities that should be prohibited in this new society.

1. Immediate comment responses…that is just creepy. A waiting period after a new comment or message should be enforced.
2. Pictures of oneself in the mirror. Some people have albums full of these. Really? What is so intoxicating about the mirror that one must take their picture in it. I mean, I get the novelty of it. Yes, in a mirror, you can see your reflection. And yes, if you take a picture of the mirror you have magically taken a picture of yourself! If you insist on committing this foul, at least vary the pose.
3. Hourly updates about mundane actions in your life. I will celebrate with you when you get married, have a child, graduate, or win the lottery. However, I do not need to know that you stubbed your toe or went to the bathroom.
4. Spamming your entire friend list with that new game you found. I am glad you are having fun playing it. And perhaps you need to recruit people to get a better score. I know that little button to invite everyone in your friend’s list is so enticing. It just sits there, quietly saying, “click me! click me!” But don’t do it. It is just wrong.
5. Long comment conversations on a status update or post that other people have liked. No one likes sitting back down to Facebook and seeing 73 new notifications only to find out two people they do not know have been catching up on life in a post they liked.
6. Obscure or cryptic status updates about someone who made you mad or hurt your feelings. Approximately 78% of these statuses revolve around relationship problems. Perhaps she dumped you, or you found out your girlfriend was cheating on you. Whatever the case, this is the ultimate form of passive aggression. It may give you a chance to publicly bash this unnamed person (although all your “real friends” certainly know who it is) and simultaneously provide catharsis for your wounded soul, but it does not have the same effect on the other 456 people that have to see it.
7. Guilting people into liking something because its about Jesus or starving children. This isn’t just a Facebook Foul, it is extortion. Shame on you. Perhaps 99% of people will not share that image about Jesus or hungry children because they do not see how it will actually advance God’s reign or gospel.
8. Tagging some random corner of a picture instead of actually tagging someone’s face. Simply put, this is just lazy. If a person is in the picture, and you want to tag them, go ahead and lift that cursor another inch and click on their face. This issue is even more aggravating in group pictures. Tags are everywhere, except on the people! This really hampers one’s ability to Facebook stalk.
9. Facebook stalking. It is the elusive foul, but we all have that friend who does it. You may be guilty of it yourself. If so, confession is good for the soul. Nevertheless, somehow that friend always knows every little piece of information about everyone you know, even the mundane details about people’s lives that no one should know (see 3).
10. Liking or commenting on someone’s picture from two years ago. How did you find that picture? Oh yeah, you were stalking them.
11. Shamelessly plugging your blog all the time. Oops…

Now, how many Facebook Fouls have you committed?

Fifty years ago, this question was practically taboo in America. However, a lot has changed culturally in that time. Secularism is the new religion, even when people claim Christianity, and as pluralism has won the day in the public square, this is the kind of question that Christians now find themselves answering.

It is a fair question.

Maybe, instead of getting mad that someone would even consider asking such a question, we should consider its ramifications. After all, to someone who does not believe in God (atheism), or perhaps does not know if God exists (agnosticism), the evidence to support God can easily be turned on its head. For instance, if God exists, why is there suffering in the world? Why is there injustice? Why does it seem those who have the least ability to protect themselves are subjected to atrocities that people in the States cannot fathom? (Take for instance the child soldiers in Uganda.) More importantly, if this all-powerful being does exist and he lets this stuff happen, how can he be good?

Is God a monster?

This question becomes even more complex when one considers certain passages in the Bible. Some of the stuff God tells Israel to do in the Old Testament sounds horrible. In the book of Joshua, God tells Israel to go into battle with certain nations and kill them, all of them. They were to kill every man, woman, child, and even the livestock. Then, the cities and all that was in them, everything, was to be completely destroyed.

When you look at today’s injustice, and these commands from God in our own Bible, it is no wonder people would ask the above question. Yet, the question itself reveals a lack of perception in our culture. It shows us that we do not understand God’s character, who he really is, and that we fail to understand man’s character as well.

The best way to understand someone is simply to hear what they say about themselves. It is only fair to give God the same courtesy. He has said a lot about himself in his word. The Bible is essentially God’s description of himself. It is arguably more than that, but it is certainly no less. God reveals his character in the Bible. Unfortunately, we let popular culture dictate who we think God should be instead of turning to his self-description. The pop view of God is more often than not some fuzzy teddy bear in the sky that is supposed to make things better for us when something bad happens. People try to use God like a rabbit’s foot or a vending machine, like some cosmic blessing dispenser.

That is not the picture God paints of himself.

Take the book of Exodus for instance. The main purpose of that whole book is, in God’s words, “that you may know that I am the LORD.” In the Exodus, God is anything but a teddy bear. Instead, he is a warrior, who reaches down with a mighty and outstretched arm to deliver his people from slavery. He is unstoppable. He is all-powerful, and truthfully, downright scary. He lays waste to the mightiest nation of the world at the time but with good reason. They will not heed his words and let his people go. They will not obey the only true God.

After making Egypt completely impotent, God actually parts an ocean and walks a nation across the sea floor only to close it in on the entire Egyptian army. Then, God goes before his people in a blazing pillar of fire. Imagine, a giant wall of fire marching you forward through the desert. The people reach the Mountain of God, and this fire rests on top of the mountain as a cloud.

Here, read it for yourself:

On the morning of the third day there were thunders and lightnings and a thick cloud on the mountain and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled.  Then Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God, and they took their stand at the foot of the mountain.  Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the LORD had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly.  And as the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder.  The LORD came down on Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain (Ex 19:16-20a, ESV).

This God is no teddy bear.

But, Exodus does not just describe a God of unimaginable power it tells us he is holy. Holiness is a term lost in our culture today. We no longer know what it means. In most instances, the word has come to mean “religious.” Something is holy if it deals with religion in some way. It can also refer to people who do not do bad things. However, the word has a much fuller meaning than either of these contemporary definitions.

If God is holy, it means he is set apart. He is that that is altogether different from everything else. How so?  Everything, except God, came from God. Everything else is less than God, because God is its creator. He is the ultimate other. Nothing can compare, as everything is less than him. Furthermore, if God is truly holy, then his character sets all standards. We do not judge God based on our categories; instead, we must make our categories based on God. He is the zero-point of the cosmos.

He is the standard for purity. He is the standard for righteousness.

Which leads us to our misunderstanding of humanity.

Despite the fact that we live in a culture of cynicism (If you do not believe me, just watch The Colbert Report, John Stewart, Rush Limbaugh or the View. I could go on.), we still think man is not really that bad. On a global level, we see societies as corrupt, but on a personal level, most of us think of ourselves as decent people. We at least try to do the right things. If most people are honest, they see others (like terrorists in Africa) as bad and themselves as decent people.

Yet, this could not be further from the truth.

When we think God’s wrath is mean or unfair, we greatly misunderstand just how evil we are. To think of God as a monster is to make little of sin. Sin is the world’s disease. It has tainted every corner of creation, and it is our fault. Mankind is so full of evil, we cannot do good. No civilization, no government, no people, no family, no individual (save one) in all of history has been anything except evil. Our sin is so much greater than we ever realize.

If we look at the great injustices in the developing world and cry out that it must stop, then how much more does God, the Holy One, look down on the earth and see all of our evil and cry out that it must all be stopped?

We praise a man as a hero if he stops a rapist or child molester, but we look at God’s commands in scripture to destroy an evil people as somehow mean. In truth, the obliteration that happened to those unholy nations is what the whole earth at the time deserved, even the people of Israel. It was instead, an act of grace that God did not wipe the whole earth clean. It is still an act of grace today that God does not wipe the earth clean.

No, God is not a monster. The only one innocent enough to blame the entire world for its evil and powerful enough to wipe it out chose to stay his hand. He should have destroyed mankind back in the beginning. Instead, in his patience, he has overlooked our sin, a sin that deserves his all-powerful wrath, and make a way for us to return to him.

Will God end this evil? Yes.

How? It has already begun, but is not yet completed. Death and evil have been conquered in Christ. He, who knew no sin, became sin, so that we could be counted as righteous.

That is not monstrous, that is merciful.