When forced to work within severe constraints, there’s no room for fluff. Everything gets boiled down to what’s really important. Think about where you live. How many square feet do you really need to live? Sure, I could be really comfortable in a 10,000 square foot mansion, but I really only need a few hundred square feet. Maybe less.

This idea of contraints hit me yesterday when I was making some updates to my Google+ profile. In the profile section under “Story”,  there’s a place for your tagline, essentially a one-line bio or whatever you want it to be. For most people, it’s the same as their Twitter bio, which makes sense. Your Twitter bio (limited to 160 characters) must be short, so it tranlates well to Google. Except not entirely. You see, when you hover over someone’s name in Google+, you get a little profile card with their name, picture, and some profile info including their tagline. If your tagline is a little long, it gets cut off. So it makes sense to have a very short tagline that fits within the width of the card. Contraints, man, constraints.

So then came the question of how to shorten my bio down to its most basic elements. My Twitter bio, “Christian, husband, father, network admin, coffee addict”, pretty much sums me up, but was it possible to condense that down even futher? After a few different variations, I ended up with four short words:

God. Family. Texas. Coffee.

The “God” and “Family” parts are obvious. My faith is absolutely critical to me. More than anything, it defines who I am. A close second is my family — my amazing wife and two beautiful daughters. They are my flesh and blood, and I can’t imagine life without them. So yeah, those things are vital, but by identifying them upfront, I’m also adding some extra accountability so that hopefully I don’t post anything too stupid. Sorta like putting a “Jesus is my copilot” bumper sticker on your car; it’s not a real good witness to identify yourself as a Christian and then cut someone off and flip ‘em the bird.

As for the “Texas” part, well, I’m a Texan. I’ve lived in Texas my entire life, and it’s in my DNA. Any native Texan reading this will immediately understand. It’s what you eat, what you drink, what you say, what you believe. Being a Texan isn’t just about where you were born or where you live, it’s about who you are at your core. It’s the Alamo, the Hill Country, Cowtown, barbecue, Tex-Mex, Shiner beer, Dublin Dr Pepper, and the UT-A&M rivalry. It’s tubing down the Guadalupe in the summer, high school football in the fall, and bluebonnets in the spring. It’s about keeping Austin weird and keeping Lubbock flat. Yes, I may work in IT, but that’s not who I am. I’m a Texan.

And then there’s “Coffee”. As you might’ve guessed by now, I kinda like coffee, and I drink a lot of it. But the “coffee” part of the tagline isn’t really just about the drink. It’s about everything else. My personality, my interests. My extremely dry, sarcastic sense of humor. It’s a wink to the coffee theme that started with this blog (and really years before that) and has carried over to other social networks, an inside joke that nobody else gets. To put anything else in that space is unthinkable, not because of my obsession with caffeine but because it defines my own personal history.

Constraints are frustrating at times, but by stripping everything down to the studs, we’re forced to choose between what’s important and what’s truly critical. Between what’s nice and what’s non-negotiable. Between “let’s go” and “come with me if you want to live”. I ended up with four words, seven syllables, and twenty letters. Do they fully represent everything about me? Maybe not. But it’s certainly a start.

Previously:
My next blog
Mistaking rocks for fossils
Why I’m a fan
One thing

A few years ago, Christy and I started tweeting the hilarious “Erinisms” that she’d rattle off, brief glimpses into the mind of this curious little diva-rock star-comedian. What started as the #stuffmy7yroldsays hashtag has grown into #stuffmy9yroldsays and now #stuffmy10yroldsays. Below are all those tweets (so far).

• “My sleeve smells like burnt macaroni.” (12/4/10)
• When told her Christmas present was probably made in China: “Or in Philadelphia!” (12/5/10)
• On remarking that I only wear ties at weddings, funerals, and job interviews: “Can’t ya just say ‘fancy places?’” (12/22/10)
• Asked if she wanted milk: “Yeah, the locust-free kind.” (12/25/10)
• Wondering why a flock of birds were avoiding a particular tree: “Does it smell like tacos?” (12/28/10)
• “Well, shiver me tenders!” (1/29/11)
• “I’m going to Funland!” (2/3/11)
• “Can we jog now? I’ll take it easy on you cause you’re just a mom.” (2/20/11)
• To me: “No more worries, Mr. Fuzzypants.” (4/2/11)
• “Trust me, you don’t smell too bad.” (4/9/11)
• “He went to Jared!” (5/18/11)
• “What should we have for dessert? Mongolian Horse!” (5/26/11)
• Her: “Is a tomato a vegetable?” Me: “No, it’s a fruit.” Her: “Well, no one really knows for sure.” (6/8/11)
• “I know, I’m always up to something.” (6/28/11)
• “Are they married? Cause his eyebrows are HUGE.” (7/2/11)
• After farting: “That’s what happens when I’m not the queen.” (7/2/11)
• “Royal Gorge?! Sweet mama!” (7/8/11)
• “I’m being sarcasm!” (7/9/11)
• “I don’t know why, but I left room for dessert in my tummy.” (8/17/11)
• “I’m dancing to the toaster.” (9/25/11)
• “The sun won’t get out of my property.” (10/5/11)
• Explaining why she needs a snack after already having a piece of candy: “I have to end on salty.” (10/27/11)
• “I know one boy in my class who’s a Christian, but I don’t think I’m gonna marry him because he still likes Dora.” (11/4/11)
• “I have a meal hole and a dessert hole and a snack hole. And a drink hole.” (11/23/11)
• “Yes! Angels with heads!” (12/20/11)
• “What is a Puff Daddy?” (12/26/11)
• “Outside in the grass making nature tacos” (12/31/11)
• “I like shopping, but when you put the word ‘grocery’ in front of it, I don’t like it.” (1/13/12)
• “You thought I said ‘party’? No, I said ‘par-TAYY’.” (1/14/12)
• “Adventures are boring. I said sarcasmly.” (3/15/12)
• “Did somebody say ‘water buffalo?!’” (3/25/12)
• “Word. Up.” (3/31/12)
• “Mexican food is a mystery.” (5/6/12)
• “What kind of food is fried chicken?” (6/14/12)
• “Ooh, I think he just broke his jahoozie.” (6/15/12)
• About cherries: “Is the seed always located in the middle?” (7/16/12)
• “So why don’t we have a queen of Texas?” (7/27/12)
• “Wait, did I just say something?” (7/27/12)
• “…when the Hot Tamale Isolation happened.” (7/28/12)
• “Spiderwebs equal spiders, so cobwebs must equal cobs. And I definitely saw a cob out there.” (8/3/12)
• “When does Flarp expire?” (8/18/12)
• “I don’t like the kind of pineapple juice people make, I like the real kind.” (8/30/12)
• “What’s the point of dinner if there’s no dessert? (9/4/12)
• “Can you get me a caramel latte with extra whipping cream?” (9/7/12)
• About the football game: “They’re just showing a bunch of butts.” (9/16/12)
• “Wait, how old am I?” (9/24/12)
• “I want a cow. I’m not so sure I want a pig cause I’d be tempted to make bacon.” (9/28/12)
• “Anything involving cotton candy is a good idea.” (9/30/12)
• “How come I’m Irish but I’ve never been to Italy?” (10/11/12)
• “Hey, it’s the weekend, we shouldn’t be doing science!” (10/28/12)
• Her: “Was he a hipster?” Me: “No, he was a hippie.” Her: “So a hipster then?” (10/31/12)
• “I would never want to be in a boring commercial like that.” (11/11/12)
• Explaining the aurora borealis: “It’s when God farts with love.” (1/17/13)
• “Tell me more about myself.” (1/18/13)
• “I like being weird, but all my friends are weirder than me, so they don’t think I’m weird.” (2/2/13)
• “I’ve lived a long life.” (2/15/13)
• “You smell good. Do you have man perfume on?” (3/2/13)
• “In the world of Uno, you crush my soul.” (3/29/13)
• “You take pictures of everything. No offense.” (3/31/13)
• “You are the longest history book ever.” (4/8/13)
• “I can’t keep living like this for long. I’m going to have to go to Six Flags at some point.” (5/5/13)

Happy Birthday, kiddo! Please don’t ever change.

Previously:
The circle game
Erin-isms

Today we not only expect dynamic content but social interaction as well. Every news article and blog post is followed by a comments section. Readers are prompted to like, tweet, and share it. It’s more than just about generating pageviews, it’s about cultivating a following.

There’s also the expectation that creating and sharing content will be easy and frictionless. It’s why a stripped-down mobile-only app like Instagram was an immediate hit while more full-featured sites like Flickr have struggled. People don’t want to work at it; they just want to add their content, hit a button, and be done with it.

A few years ago, I wrote a blog post entitled “How to play the game of ‘Blog-Facebook-Twitter’”. Although relatively new to Twitter, I had already started posting content there that normally would’ve been published here. The ease of pasting a URL, adding a short comment, and clicking a button was a very attractive alternative to writing up a full-blown blog post, not to mention the fact that that tweet would be seen by far more people than the blog post. Over the years, that trend has continued. I still use Facebook a little for sharing family pictures, but most new content is either posted to Twitter or Instagram. The blog, in return, has seen fewer posts but more introspective ones. All in all, I think that’s a good thing.

Before I go any further, let me say that this site isn’t going away. It’s way too personal for me to shut down, and I need a place for these long, rambling posts that I sometimes need to write. But I think I have a new social media companion for it: Google+.

OK, I’ll stop and wait until you’re done laughing. … … … Done now? Good. Now hear me out.

When Google+ first launched, I played with it a bit but didn’t see much value to it. It drifted off my radar screen and was left for dead. However, I started spending more time on it when my daughter created a profile and started posting stuff. And the more time I spent on it, the more people I found that were (surprise!) actually using it.

And then a week or so ago I saw someone mention that he uses Google+ as his personal blog. That was kind of a weird thing to say, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. We usually don’t think of social media sites like Facebook and Twitter as a blog, but they are in a way. Not as wordy, of course, but we’ve already seen how they’re all interchangeable with regards to posting content.

And Google+ has a few advantages over Facebook and Twitter. Since Facebook is geared more toward sharing family pictures, liking stuff, and posting the occasional status update, it’s not a great fit for “blogging”. Also, Facebook posts are typically not public. Twitter is public, but the brevity of it makes it hard to share in depth content, and it’s easy for tweets to get lost in the stream. Twitter is great in the moment but not for long-term sharing. Google+ combines the strength of the Facebook news feed with the strength of the public sharing and discovery of Twitter, and what you end up with is a social network that is now well-suited for traditional blogging. Not that Google+ is perfect because it could still use a lot of improvement. But I have to admit I really like the idea of it.

Let me reiterate that I’m not giving up on this site. Or Twitter or Flickr or anything else. But I do expect to utilize Google+ more as time goes on. Because the only thing constant on the Internet is change.

Previously:
If Google+ isn’t social, then what is it?
It’s not Facebook that should be scared of Google+, it’s Twitter
How to play the game of ‘Blog-Facebook-Twitter’

I know that we Christians aren’t always going to agree on everything, but the fact that so many Christians not only support same-sex marriage but endorse it just doesn’t make sense to me. How on earth can you read the Bible, claim that you believe what it says, and yet not find anything reprehensible about homosexuality, particularly when the Bible is extraordinarily clear in its opposition to it?

So I’ve spent the week fuming at my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, angry that they’ve chosen political correctness over biblical truth, and despondant over what that means for the future of the Church. If we choose to no longer identify sin as sin, then the gospel means nothing.

But last night as I watched a show on TV about the history of the Church, I realized that such disagreements are nothing new. In fact, the Church has been divided against itself since before it was even established. Even after seeing Jesus transfigured on a mountain, the disciples — the people who were closest to Him, who spent every day with Him — argued over who would have the most power and prestige in the new kingdom. And the bickering continued after Jesus’ death. One such disagreement was over whether Gentiles should be accepted into the Church and if so, whether they had to be circumcised first according to Jewish law. And even when they agreed on principle, they didn’t always get along. Paul and Barnabas had a nasty falling out, and Paul had it out with Peter for refusing to eat at the same table as the Gentiles.

As the Church grew, so did its petty differences. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul criticized the church at Corinth for dividing themselves into numerous quarreling factions, and the charges against the seven churches in Revelation 2 and 3 show even more disunion.

Such divisions continued into the second century and beyond, with countless disagreements over policies, structure, and doctrine. New procedures and traditions developed, adding layer upon layer of man-made rules on top of the simplicity of the gospel until the Church split completely in 1054 over such rules. Five hundred years later, Martin Luther, John Calvin, and others stood in opposition to the Catholic Church, leading to the rise of Protestantism. King Henry VIII, latching on to this new anti-Catholic sentiment, broke away from Rome and established his own Church of England. And the splits continued from there into Puritans, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, and others. American churches cut ties to English ones as the U.S. gained its independence. Protestant denominations continued to divide further into such variations as Free Will Baptists, Primitive Baptists, and Southern Baptists, breaking over doctrinal issues as well as political ones. And the 19th and 20th centuries brought even more denominations such as the Seventh-Day Adventists, the Church of Christ, and the Church of the Nazarene, as well as fringe groups (cults?) with non-traditional beliefs such as Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, and Christian Scientists.

And even within each denomination, there are demarcations between various practices and beliefs. Are you premillennial, postmillennial, or amillennial? Do you believe in free will or predestination? Are you Calvinist or Arminian? Do you believe in a literal translation of the Bible or an allegorical one? Are you a Young Earth Creationist or do you believe in evolution? Do you believe women should be ordained as ministers? Are you for sprinkling or dunking?

As Christians, we can (and often do) divide ouselves into an infinite number of groups and sub-groups, often with disastrous and sometimes deadly results. It seems our insistence on being right trumps our need to be saved, and that prideful, arrogant, selfish nature has only been magnified with the advent of the Internet.

A few days ago I spent an hour and a half digging up crabgrass. It had infested and taken over my backyard, choking out the Bermuda, so I had no choice but to dig it out. Even though I filled two whole trash bags full of the weeds, I know I’m gonna have to repeat this process over and over again. As long as crabgrass seeds find their way into the soil, I’m gonna have a problem with it.

And that crabgrass is like sin. It’s a weed, a pestilence that if allowed to flourish will choke out anything in its path. And unforuntately even though we’ve been saved by grace, we still carry around a lot of sinful seeds inside us. And the weeds that spawn from those seeds are enough to tear us apart. As Jesus said (and Lincoln paraphrased), “A household divided against itself will not stand.”

If it were up to us to fix ourselves, there’d be no hope. When left to our own devices, we’re just as selfish and immature as any non-Christian. But then, if we were able to fix ourselves, Jesus never would’ve come. We would still be living under the Law — and failing miserably. But thankfully He did come. He did die, giving Himself up as the ultimate Passover sacrifice, so that through Him we can be saved. And in the end, nothing else matters.

I want desperately for the Church to be the body of Christ. No, we may not all agree, but we work together anyway, each of us dying to ourselves and using our own God-given gifts to serve the greater good. Instead of a body, though, we’re more like the leftover remnants from a slaughterhouse, random bits and pieces scattered about, broken, bloody, and rotting. I want us to be the beautiful bride of Christ, but if it’s up to us, we’ll never make it to the altar.

So while I’ve been incredibly angry this week, I realize that I have to let go of that and put my hope in Jesus. To take Him at His word when He said, “It is finished.” To look beyond the cross and see the empty tomb, the confirmation that death has been defeated and that my sin has been wiped away. It may seem dark now, as it did two thousand years ago when Jesus was beaten, flogged, mocked, and nailed to a Roman cross. But that’s not where the story ends.

I don’t know what will come of the Supreme Court’s eventual ruling, but to an extent it doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, Christians will continue to be divided as they have been since the beginning. But Jesus is still Lord.

Happy Easter!

Previously:
How to stop asking Jesus into your heart and learn to be saved
Politically, today is 1860
Which church are we?
It was all because of love

A few sidenotes: First, I don’t care about college basketball in the slightest. The only time I pay any attention to it is in March, and I lose interest after about halfway through the second round when all my Final Four picks have been beaten. Second, there are precisely zero teams from the state of Texas in the tournament, which means that my interest level is even less than normal. And third, even though I’ve made my picks, I’m not comfortable with most of them. About the only one I feel remotely happy with is Indiana, which means they’ll probably be beaten in the first round. Awesome.

With that said, let’s do this thing.

Midwest Region. The strong favorites are Louisville, Duke, and Michigan State, with possible spoilers by Creighton and Saint Louis. Let’s face it, Duke is overrated, so I think the advantage goes to Michigan State there. And even though the conventional wisdom has Louisville going to the finals, I’m taking the Spartans instead based on coaching.

West Region. The favorites are Gonzaga, Wisconsin, New Mexico, and Ohio State, with spoilers being K-State and Iowa State. I don’t think Gonzaga will make it to the Final Four. My initial pick was New Mexico, who I think has a realistic shot here. But at the end of the day my gut tells me Wisconsin and Ohio State will be too much for the Lobos, so I’m going with the Cheeseheads over the Buckeyes. I may be wrong, but honestly as long as it’s not Ohio State in the Final Four, I’m happy.

South Region. The favorites are Kansas, Florida, Georgetown, and Virginia Commonwealth, with a possible spoiler from San Diego State. I’m taking Kansas to survive VCU but not to make it to the Final Four. I’m going with Florida instead because why not.

East Region. The favorites are Indiana and Miami, with Butler being a possible spoiler. I’d like Butler to win since a good friend of mine went there, but I’m playing the odds and going with Indiana over Miami to make it to the Final Four.

Finals. So my Final Four are Michigan State (#3 seed), Wisconsin (#5 seed), Florida (#3 seed), and Indiana (#1 seed). If you’re keeping score at home, that’s three Big Ten teams in the Final Four, which makes me a little nervous. But there’s no question the talent is there, and that’s what happens when you determine championships by a playoff instead of by computer. For the championship game, I’m going with Michigan State and Indiana, with the Hoosiers winning out.

So there you go. My full bracket is below. As always, pick the opposite of me and you should do fine.

Previously:
March Madness 2012: My picks
March Madness 2011: My picks
March Madness 2010: My picks

That was it, I thought. I’m a Christian now. But I was plagued by doubts for years. I was raised in church my whole life. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in Sunday school at Oakwood Baptist Church in Lubbock, Texas, learning about Noah’s Ark from a silver-haired old lady and singing “Jesus Loves the Little Children”. Yet I had no idea what it really meant to be a Christian. I thought it was kinda like being Jewish; if your parents were Christian and if you believed in God, then that meant you were a Christian, too. I never doubted God’s existence or that Jesus died for my sins and rose again on the third day, but no one ever explained that that’s only Step 1.

For years after my baptism I struggled with whether or not I was actually saved. Had I really understood what I was agreeing to when I answered yes to my friend’s dad’s question? I mean, I believed everything in the Bible, so I had no qualms about asking Jesus into my heart; that’s like asking if you believe it’s hot in the summer. But did I really know what that entailed? Had I actually repented of my sin or just acknowledged a pre-existing belief? And did that baptism actually mean anything?

During my high school years I became obsessed with these questions. I prayed for dear life. I dove into the Bible. I became really active in the youth group. I listened almost exclusively to Christian music. I wore Christian t-shirts to school and multi-colored bead bracelets that you were supposed to use to walk your friends through the Gospel. I was on fire for Jesus. But I was also terrified.

Years later when I was married and had become a father, I decided to put the doubt to rest, and I was baptized again to “get the order right” as our pastor liked to say. I finally felt a peace knowing that regardless of what had happened in the past, at least I was saved now.

My story, I thought, was unusual. Salvation isn’t supposed to happen like that. It’s not supposed to be messy and full of doubts and struggles. It’s supposed to be simple and happy and glaringly obvious. One minute you’re a worthless sinner, the next you’re Billy Graham. You’re not supposed to question your faith, and you’re certainly not supposed to get baptized twice. Little did I know that my story isn’t unusual and that struggles and doubts and questions are all part of the process.

In his book Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart: How to Know For Sure You Are Saved, J.D. Greear recounts his own story, which is almost identical to mine (except that he was actually baptized four times). In the course of working out his own faith, he comes to a realization that simply repeating a prayer and getting dunked isn’t all there is to salvation, that that’s only part of the story — and really not even the important part.

I have begun to wonder if both problems, needless doubting and false assurance, are exacerbated by the clichéd ways in which we (as evangelicals) speak about the gospel. Evangelical shorthand for the gospel is to “ask Jesus into your heart,” or “accept Jesus as Lord and Savior,” or “give your heart to Jesus.” These phrases may not be wrong in themselves, but the Bible never tells us, specifically, to seek salvation in those ways. The biblical summation of a saving response toward Christ is “repentance” and “belief” in the gospel. …

The sinner’s prayer is not a magic incantation or a recipe you follow to get a salvation cake. The real stuff — the stuff that matters — is the posture of repentance and faith behind the words you speak. The prayer is good only insofar as it verbalizes the posture.

He goes on to explain what a “posture of repentance and faith” looks like and what it means from a biblical standpoint. It’s a lifelong process, not a one-time event, a commitment of the heart and a transformation that should yield evidence if truly genuine. But that’s not to say that we stop sinning or stop having doubts; quite the contrary. As Greear says:

In fact, the presence of the struggle itself can be affirmation that God’s Spirit is at work within you. …

The more I have grown in Christ, the more (not less) I’ve felt my sinfulness. The more God’s light has illuminated my heart, the more I’ve been able to see how messed up I really am. In fact, I seem more sinful to myself now than I did in the days when I first came to know Christ!

Doubt is part of the process, but so is assurance, and Greear spends plenty of time addressing both. Assurance of salvation is critical, he points out, but we can’t depend on our emotions for that. Nor does “backsliding” prove that we’re not saved. In the end, only resting in Jesus and what He did for us on the cross can provide the assurance we need.

Greear also speaks to Christian parents who struggle (as I did) over their children’s salvation. How young is too young to make a decision for Christ and be baptized? If they make a decision too early, will that set them up for more doubt and uncertainty later? Because we love our kids, we want them to be saved, but because they’re growing up in a Christian home, that “moment of conversion” may not be an obvious one. It doesn’t matter, he concludes, only that they take on that they take on that Godly posture as they get older. The “when” matters less than the “why”.

Salvation is a tricky subject, and unfortunately we tend to approach it all wrong. We focus on heaven what it takes to get there. What do we have to do to get our eternal ticket punched, and once it’s done, we’re good. Except that that’s not what it’s all about. “Being saved” isn’t about going to heaven, it’s about being made holy, or what the Bible refers to as sanctification. It’s the realization that we have an innate sin nature that we have no way to get rid of on our own. Only through the grace of God and by His Holy Spirit can we replace that sin nature with a holy, godly nature. In Romans 6:22, Paul writes:

But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.

The goal of getting saved is holiness. Eternal life is simply the by-product of that. Sort of like the goal of being born isn’t to simply “be alive” but to be a functional member of society. Becoming alive happens in an instant when we’re born, but we can’t stay an infant forever. We have to grow. We have to learn to speak and walk and feed ourselves and stop pooping in our pants and eventually become independent adults. In the same way, asking Jesus into our hearts is enough to save us, but that’s only the first step. Living it out is the rest.

If you have any doubts about whether you’re saved or you’re not really even sure what that means, I highly recommend checking out J.D. Greear’s book.

Previously:
‘The Searchers’ finds faith on the road of despair
Which church are we?
The Gospel Project: For God so loved the world
It was all because of love

Sunday is the premiere of The Bible on the History Channel, and it looks amazing. Described as a “10-hour docudrama”, the miniseries from Mark Burnett and Roma Downey recreates the biblical narrative from Genesis to Revelation in stunning high definition. Which sounds awesome. But here’s my question: What if it’s not historically accurate?

From the previews, it looks pretty accurate. I mean, Jesus doesn’t have blue eyes, so that’s a plus. But it’s the little things, like the Magi visiting Jesus in the manger when he was a baby (which didn’t actually happen until he was 2-3 years old) or Moses’ lack of a speech impediment. Do those things matter?

Or am I just being picky?

As with any historical drama, I fully expect a fair amount of artistic license to be used, and certainly if you have a series set thousands of years ago, you can only be so exact. Plus, much of the early parts of the Bible (at least in Genesis) are hard to substantiate historically. Did Creation happen in six 24-hour days or over billions of years? Were Adam and Eve created as literally described in Genesis or were they allegorical symbols of a fallen mankind? Or did they evolve from apes? Did the Great Flood literally cover the entire earth in 40 days, killing off all of humanity except for Noah’s family, or was that allegory, too? The fact that not even Christians can agree on how these events occurred surely makes it impossible to portray them with 100% historical precision.

So I’m willing to give Burnett and Downey plenty of leeway here. But my question is, how far is too far? What if, in the quest to stay as close to the message of the Bible as possible, they sacrifice historical authenticity for literalism? Does that undermine their credibility? (This is the History Channel after all, so I’m assuming historical accuracy is kind of important.) Or what if by maximizing authenticity and/or drama, they “tweak” various Bible stories or characters? Does that undermine the whole purpose and intent of the Bible? I mean, if Jesus is portrayed as more of a rabble-rousing rebel than God incarnate, then you’re really not staying true to the message, are you? Yes, it’s a “docudrama”, and as such it’s not going to be a word-for-word recitation of Scripture. But how much artistic license is too much?

Honestly, I don’t have an answer to that question, and until I see the series I can’t really pass judgment on it. But maybe the accuracy question is really irrelevant anyway. Maybe we should just be grateful that the series exists at all and that History is putting so much publicity behind it. Over the past few years, the network has given up pretty much any history-related programming for reality shows like Pawn Stars and American Pickers. Perhaps the fact that not only are they showing an actual series about the Bible but that it’s not the usual anti-religious scholarly critique they would normally present is reason enough to be excited. Besides, even if it’s not completely accurate, if it gets people talking about the Bible, that can’t be a bad thing, can it?

Previously:
Jesus as the fulfillment of prophecy
Thoughts on Genesis
How much emphasis should be placed on Christianity when teaching history?
The Vatican: Evolution compatible with Christian faith

I’ve been reading an excellent book about the 1860 presidential election, Year of Meteors: Stephen Douglas, Abraham Lincoln, and the Election that Brought on the Civil War by Douglas Egerton. In the book, Egerton explains the political forces that led to the birth of the Republican Party and the eventual secession of the South. Honestly, it’s one of the best explanations I’ve ever read for why the Civil War happened. Yes, it was about slavery. But it didn’t just happen overnight. It was a long process that had been building since the end of the American Revolution. What’s even more interesting, however, is how those same forces are at work in today’s political climate.

At the time of the 1860 election, the United States was sharply divided not just politically but ideologically. The Republicans in the North were the liberal/progressive party at the time. Some were abolitionists (primarily in New England), but most simply favored restricting slavery to the existing southern states; they argued that any new states or territories should be free states. Meanwhile, the Democrats in the South were the anti-Washington, states rights conservatives, not only supporting the rights of whites to own slaves but also their right to carry their “property” into new territories (as affirmed in the 1857 Dred Scott decision).

While the party affiliations have flipped since then, ideologically it’s the same story today, except instead of slavery, it’s other issues such as same sex marriage and gun rights. The liberal North (and West Coast) pushing for legalization of gay marriage and restrictions on gun ownership, and the conservative South arguing for states rights and the constitutional right for individuals to own their property as they please (in this case guns). The issues have changed but the rhetoric hasn’t. The extreme right-wing Tea Party Movement (which is primarily in the South and Texas) is a direct parallel to the extremist “fire-eaters” of the 1850s South, who held so firmly to their ideology that they were willing to break up the Democratic Party, lose the presidential election, and secede from the rest of the country. Sound familiar? OK, so no one’s seriously talking about secession today, but the extreme anti-Washington sentiment is the same.

And the social liberalism of today’s Democrats is a direct descendant of the anti-slavery liberalism of the Northeast in the 1850s, itself tracing its heritage to the Puritans that settled there in the early 1600s. We see those same beliefs being extended to the issue of homosexuality, with liberals supporting same-sex marriage, the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, and the allowance of gays to serve in the Boy Scouts. Where once it was skin color that divided our nation, today it’s sexual orientation.

So here’s my question: What can we learn from the polarization of the 1850s and ’60s to help us today? I would argue two things. First, the political extremism of the Republican Tea Party movement is just as dangerous as the Southern “fire-eaters” of the 1850s. In fact, any political extreme is probably a bad thing. Tea Party Republicans are so intent on standing their ground that they don’t care about the ramifications, as we saw during the “fiscal cliff” negotiations a couple of months ago and we’ve seen session after session in the Texas legislature. A government of extremes is neither functional nor stable. At some point, you have to be willing to compromise for everyone’s benefit, to look for common sense solutions rather than pithy soundbites. And unfortunately, in this day and age that virtually guarantees that you won’t be reelected.

Second, for those of us who disagree with homosexuality, we have to be very careful not to fall into the same trap as our ancestors did. For pro-slavery whites of the 1800s, blacks were considered an inferior race and no better than livestock. There was fear throughout the nation that if you set slaves free, they would overwhelm the white population and rape all the white women. Even many anti-slavery Republicans, including Abraham Lincoln, supported the idea of recolonizing blacks in Africa rather than granting them full equality here in America. We shouldn’t make the same mistake today. While I disagree with homosexuality — and by extension same-sex marriage — we are called on by God to love everyone. Everybody needs grace, forgiveness, and salvation. Everybody needs the Holy Spirit to transform their hearts from the inside out. That’s not to say we should embrace homosexuality or endorse it as a Church; quite the contrary. But we shouldn’t be so focused on condemning homosexuals that we shut the doors of the church to keep them out either.

We’re just as polarized as a nation today as we were 150 years ago. The issues have changed, but the pattern is the same. But we have an opportunity to learn from our past, to not make the same mistakes, to be better. We’re not headed for another Civil War if we don’t, but the casualties could be devastating nevertheless.

Previously:
The case for keeping the electoral college
Faith and the Presidency, Part 2
Was the American Revolution inevitable?
Red, white, and blue states
Faith and the Presidency

I said I wasn’t going to do it. I was adamant. No way. No how. Not gonna happen. I wasn’t going to upgrade to Windows 8. It’s ugly. Awkward. Confusing. Inconsistent. Disorganized. It feels like a version 1.0 product in every possible way.

And yet last week I found myself downloading it and doing the one thing I swore I would never do. How could this possibly happen?

My decision to upgrade was not a spur-of-the-moment one and not easy at all. Even as I kicked off the setup process, I had cold feet. I wanted to be excited about it but instead I worried that I would regret it, and honestly the first day or so I did. But I had arrived at my decision after two months of actively working with an eval version and thinking through every possible pro and con. I’m normally not an indecisive person, and it seemed silly to anguish over something so trivial as an operating system upgrade.

And yet I did. A lot.

I think that speaks volumes to what Microsoft has wrought. Windows 8 is — on the desktop side, at least — a relatively minor upgrade to its predecessor. But then there’s this whole other side, the Metro side, which trades icons and windows for tiles and gestures, a UI designed and intended for touchscreens but which feels completely out of place on a non-touch-based laptop or desktop. It’s a polarizing move by Microsoft, throwing out the familiar UI we’ve used since Windows 95 for one explicitly meant for hardware almost none of us has. While some people have praised the new look, others (including me) have bristled at it. Even Bill Gates himself has refused to upgrade to it. That should give anyone cause for concern.

But upgrade I did. And here’s why:

First and foremost, it was because even as flawed as it is, it’s different than Windows 7. I use Windows 7 at work, and as a network administrator, I’m deploying it left and right. I’m not just seeing it on my work laptop, I’m seeing it on everyone’s laptops. As great of an OS as it is, it’s nice to have something different at home. I’ve deployed and supported Windows XP for 12 years, and I’m sick of it. The sight of it makes me ill. And I’ve already used and worked with Windows 7 for three years. It won’t be long before I’m sick of that one as well. So for me, different for the sake of different is good. Even if it’s ugly different.

Second, it was cheap. Microsoft cut the upgrade price to only $40 through the end of January. While I wanted to wait a couple more months before pulling the trigger, there was no way I was willing to pay the regular price of $199 for what amounted to a minor upgrade. Metro aside, were the minor tweaks of Windows 8 worth 40 bucks? Probably. Were they worth more than that? Definitely not.

Third, I knew I had a safety net with the Start8 Start menu replacement. Microsoft ditched the traditional Start menu in Windows 8 for the Metro Start screen and also introduced hot corners and a Charms bar, all of which sort of make sense on a tablet but are frustrating as hell on a PC. Stardock’s Start8 not only brings back the Start menu on the desktop side, but it can disable the hot corners and Charms bar and boot users straight to the desktop. Thus, you can avoid Metro altogether if you want, and I did happily for the first few days after the upgrade. (Note: There are several other great Start menu replacements out there, so feel free to shop around.) Windows 8 also eliminated the translucent Aero UI of Windows 7 for a flatter, almost Windows 3.1 look, something I had a really hard time getting used to. Fortunately, I found a third-party visual style that I liked a lot and worked like a champ. With the Start menu back and a UI that I liked, the last of my objections were addressed. I was finally confident I could be happy with the new OS.

As far as the upgrade process itself, it was quick and easy. There were a couple of programs I had to update or reinstall, and I had to update my video driver. But the cleanup work was relatively minor. Getting used to the new environment, however, has taken a little bit more time. I’m trying to use the Metro apps a little here and there for news and games and a few other things. I’m not sure they’ll ever be more than just a passing fad for me, but I don’t hate them as much as I originally did. And of course I can completely ignore them if I want to.

After two months of evaluation and a week of using it as my primary operating system, am I glad I changed my mind and upgraded? Yes, I am. It’s fast and smooth and the minimalist style feels a lot more updated than the faux glass of Windows 7. I feel like I got my money’s worth although I still wouldn’t advise paying full price for it, especially if you’re already on Win7. Windows 8 still feels incomplete and disjointed. It still needs a lot of work to bring the two UIs into a single unified system. But it also has a lot of promise. And to me, that was worth the risk.

Previously:
Reconsidering Windows 8
Why I won’t be upgrading to Windows 8
Windows 8: Welcome back to the days of DOS
Prediction: Windows 8 will look more like iOS than Windows

“We worry because we distrust God.”

– Jeff Wakefield, Hillside Community Church

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I know I need to lose weight, eat better, and exercise more. Nothing new about that. And if I’m being honest, there’s probably a million other personal defects I need to change about myself. But the whole idea of making a special resolution just because it’s Janurary 1st is flawed from the outset. The idea that “I need to do this” or “I need to change that.” The emphasis is on us, what we can fix on our own if we just set the right goals and have enough willpower to achieve them. But if we really had that power, don’t you think we would’ve used it by now?

As I look ahead to 2013, I have to admit I’m more than a little scared. There are the challenges that will come with Christy heading into her second semester of nursing school. And then there are the financial challenges that will be especially difficult for the first few months of the year. And then an enormous set of challenges at work, with my workload increasing by around 50% this year and several business trips scattered in, straining things at home even more.

I’d like to say I’ve got it all figured out, that I can handle everything ahead of us all on my own. But I don’t and I can’t. I’m gonna need a lot of help from God.

I know I need to be spending time every day in Scripture, and I thought about beginning a year-long Bible reading plan. But the more I thought about it, the less interested I became. It’s not that reading through the Bible cover to cover again wouldn’t be worthwhile — it absolutely would. But reading through Genesis and Jeremiah and Song of Solomon isn’t what I need right now. I need direction. I need guidance. I need a deeper connection to God. I need Psalms and Proverbs.

Last year at this time, I kicked off a 70-day reading plan going through the Gospels in chronological order. It was an amazing experience. This year, I’m gonna be reading through the Old Testament books of Psalms and Proverbs over the next 15 weeks. I’ll be reading a proverb (or two) each day Sunday through Friday and two psalms each day Monday through Friday. (Saturdays are off days and can be used for catch-up if need be.) By the end of the 15th week, I will have gone through all 150 psalms once and all the proverbs three times. The plan kicks off this Sunday, January 6th, and runs through Friday, April 19th.

Here is a copy of the schedule in case you want to follow along:

>> Psalms-Proverbs (PDF)

What I really like about Proverbs is its focus on wisdom. Making wise choices instead of foolish ones. It’s like a GPS from God. But the problem for me has always been its density. Each verse of Proverbs is so packed with power that it’s hard to really internalize it and apply it all. That’s why it was important for me to go through it multiple times. Psalms, in a way, is just the opposite. These are poems, songs, love letters to God. Expressions from the heart, not the mind, poured out during the best times of David’s life and the worst times. They are a picture of someone reaching out with all his might to his heavenly Father for love, grace, forgiveness, and protection. But like with Proverbs, I’ve always struggled internalizing those verses and applying them. I’m hoping the next 15 weeks will help to change that.

Having been through a few other Bible reading plans in the past couple of years, I know how incredibly rewarding they are. It seems like God always has something special to show me through them. And I need that desperately right now. Because I know I can’t go it alone. I’m gonna need a lot of help.

Previously:
Dwelling in God’s house
The Gospel Project: For God so loved the world
The Gospel Project
Bible reading: It is finished (but just beginning)