Coming Clean

You know … I’m a chronic griper. It’s true. I’ll confess. And it can be a problem sometimes, but a lot of times … I think there needs to be a griper … someone to make everybody second guess themselves. I, more often than not it seems, am that man.

The past few months have seen me engaged in two very different debates concerning Christian evangelism. In the first debate, it was me amongst other young Catholics. The debate was framed around the idea that evangelism was just about useless in America … that society was so ontologically estranged from the ideas of Christianity let alone Catholicism, that “evangelism” – apologetics, theology, philosophy, and I imagine philanthropy to some extent – was useless. Instead, we needed to take on the lives of the Saints … engage culture as truly helpful and wisened friends … and hope to lead people to the Church out of curiosity about who we are.

My response was that I’m all for what they are setting out to do … except the whole abandoning evangelism part. I think we need to stay tied into that. I think it’s important to be ready to meet a person wherever they are, and the fact that we all know apologetics, theology, philosophy, and the benefits of philanthropy says that there are probably other non-Christians with similar and hopefully receptive minds. Not to mention that to know those things helps us in living our lives and understanding where people are in theirs. Eventually I was told to not be so bothered because no one is REALLY advocating what I feared I heard. Call me a doubting Thomas.

Lately, it was a debate over at Adam’s blog. Though I hesitate to say it over there, Adam has just re-hashed typical evangelical prostelytizing. Get folks to read the Bible, and that’ll solve all our problems. I imagine Adam would resent my characterization of that, but that’s the boiled down version.

And of course, I don’t think the Bible solves problems. I think the Bible causes more problems. Only because of the umpteen thousand denominations in Protestant-land floating about. It gives people the idea that Adam just reads his Bible – and/or thinks anyone can just read the Bible – and get all the answers you ever need in life. Case in point, a young fella stopped by Adam’s blog and more or less confessed to just that … though he was looking for something of a church now.

I called Adam’s evangelization gnostic. I still think that’s a fair assessment. If people have the idea they can be (lone) Christians by simply staying “true to the Bible”, then that’s gnosticism through and through. Furthermore, I’m starting to think that gnosticism – in the sense of secret, sacred knowledge – burns more than just an ember in the fires of evangelical land. Reference the the Sage and his musings on pulpit idolatry.

Anyways, probably should file this under a rant … but it’s not meant to be … I just think people need to stay anchored to what it is they believe in. Jesus. And in Him, the Church. And in the Church, the Bible. Not the other way around.

And when we start talking about evangelism, it’s better to be holistic than to look for a shortcut to make it easy. Which is really what bothered me about Adam’s whole approach … and bothers me about most approaches for that matter.

The move from the Garden to “the world” is a fundamental change in mankind. In the Garden, man was in communion with God, endowed with original justice and innocence. In the world, all of this is gone. What does this mean?

It means that, through no fault – no sin – of our own, we are born injured and estranged from God because we are all born “in the world” and not “in the Garden”. Adam’s transgression is the curse of all mankind – that all mankind should suffer the separation he willfully placed between him and God. This is what is meant when it is said we are born into Original Sin.

Augustine writes in On Merit and the Forgiveness of Sins, and the Baptism of Infants (Book III)

As, therefore, by the answer of those, through whose agency they are born again, the Spirit of righteousness transfers to them that faith which, of their own will, they could not yet have; so the sinful flesh of those, through whose agency they are born, transfers to them that injury, which they have not yet contracted in their own life. And even as the Spirit of life regenerates them in Christ as believers, so also the body of death had generated them in Adam as sinners.

We all understand Adam’s sin – it’s something he willfully did. He is at fault. Under Original Sin, the Roman Catholic Church and Augustine both teach, we inherit the injury of Adam’s sin, but we are not held as properly responsible for Adam’s sin. It’s kind of like Adam willfully giving himself a black-eye and breaking a leg when God told him not to, and now, because of Adam’s choice, we’re all born with black-eyes and broken legs. It’s not our fault that we have a black-eye and broken leg – we didn’t punch our eye and strike our leg – but here we are all the same.

The fact that we are injured is important because, using the above analogy, with a black-eye and a broken leg, we’re not going to be able to see well and we’re not going to be able to walk right. As a matter of fact, if we think we can see perfectly well and walk perfectly right, then odds are we’re just going to make the situation a whole lot worse, resulting in a misery and suffering life. Same goes it with our moral life. We are born morally injured – separated from God – and so cannot live perfectly morally well until we are healed.

Original Sin does not say that our ability to see, to walk, to behave morally is totally gone or absolutely ruined. Original Sin only says that we are flawed which leaves room and has been interpretted to mean that mankind can by his own will get things right while getting other things wrong. People can see both in others and in themselves that they are injured, and so they can adjust for that. To use our analogy, if I know my leg is broken, then I can stay off of it … or use it such that I will not cause myself more harm. Likewise, we all know our personality faults … we can exercise our will to avoid invoking those flaws or situations that would encourage such bad behavior. This is moral living … a poor moral living, yet a moral living all the same.

God can and does see good works by fallen man for what they are and reckons them as such, but these good things don’t restore communion – that takes an act of God, that takes grace. Furthermore, God does not want people hobbling on one good leg all their life, avoiding the further injury of the second. God wants man walking on two good legs, and He offers to heal our injuries, to tend to our wounds.

It is for this reason, this desire and plan of God, that people can live a moral life and still be condemned to hell: if you don’t accept God’s healing invitation – His grace to let you walk on two legs – then you’re not the kind of man He wants, the kind of man He has intended you to be.

Original Sin eliminates the ability for man to rise above it all without God’s grace – thus leaving him “evil” and a “sinner” from the earliest of his days, in a universal sense, even though no formal act of immorality may be present. It does not matter how well a man tends his wounds, he cannot properly heal them to the perfection that God had created and intends for us to have. And that is all that matters. That’s what makes Jesus desperately needed.

Next to come, where Protestants add to this theology.

So tonight’s the first opportunity I’ve had in a week to sit down and revisit the original sin piece … things are coming along much better now. Hope to have it thought through a few more times, a little more researched, and done by the weekend. I found some flow, though it is still a bit disjointed at the moment.

In other news, I spent about 5 minutes watching William play with his hand tonight. He held it in front of his face, twisted it from side to side, opened and closed his fingers, touched his forehead, played with his mouth a little, always bringing his hand back to where he could see it. He was truly fascinated … smiling and squeeling at his hand. Good times, these little discoveries.

He’s also started scooting. He scooted across about half the room tonight. If he keeps up his scooting, I think he’ll be crawling within two months.

Cooing babies are the best. It just makes you so warm and fuzzy inside.

Friday:
- oil change
- ihop
- bank to talk about education savings accounts
- feed Josh lunch
- put boys down for naps (I am awesome)
- trim the shrubberies
- start to cut the grass
- cancel grass cutting 1/3 way into it due to rain
- get boys up and ready to depart
- go to Sam and Amy’s to feed them dinner and admire the new baby
- come home, go to sleep

Saturday
- everybody up
- everybody in the car
- take Lisa to WW and wait at Chick-fil-a with Josh (mm mm good)
- go home
- pester Jeff and Adriene for a walk at the mountain
- go to the mountain, have lunch on the walk, start walking back to the car
- Josh melts down … it’s a full-out terrible two tantrum … in the middle of the park …
- Josh and I head down a less traveled trail for a daddy-son talk
- Josh and I arrive back at the visitor’s center … Josh is tired
- head home … Josh falls asleep … yay
- get home, put kids to bed, head back to the yard and start a-cutting
- yard gets rain-delayed again … this time about half done
- come in, get cleaned up, head to the ‘rents house for dinner and chillin’
- stay way too late, come home, go to bed

Sunday
- up, get ready for Church
- go to Church
- meet Josh’s new Sunday school teacher after Church
- head home, have some lunch
- go play with Josh … and fall asleep
- wake up, go take boys for a nap
- delay cutting the grass
- give in and go cut grass
- finish cutting the yard … this was a 4.5 hour activity … oi …
- come in, shower, eat dinner, type this up, go to bed.

what a weekend … feels good to get so much done … but I think I might like being lazy more … ‘cept then nothing gets done. oi.

I should be writing about original sin … and I’ve started a number of times … but it just isn’t flowing the right way at the moment … so I’m putting it on hold … I think I may be trying to force it, and I don’t want to do that.

So, for tonight’s edutainment, I want to share one of my favorite penitential prayers, the Confiteor:

I confess to almighty God,
and to you, my brothers and sisters,
that I have sinned through my own fault,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done and what I have failed to do;
and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin,
all the angels and saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord our God.

Amen.

… I love saying this in Mass … talk about participating in the full communion of saints …

Last Saturday, Josh and I took a hike to Kennesaw Mountain. Josh will be 3 years old in a month. He climbed all the way to the top of Kennesaw Mountain all by himself – somewhere on the order of a mile or so hike through the woods and over (big for him) rocks and roots.

At first, he wanted me to carry him because I had his backpack on. But after some encouragement along the lines of “You can do it, you’re a big boy” “You’re making daddy so proud” and “Wow, Josh, you’re such a great hiker!”, Josh could hardly be stopped.

Josh was not the only big hiker that day. Josh was carrying Clifford, the big red dog. Clifford made it all the way to the top without falling to the ground once. I was very proud of Clifford and Josh.

About 50 yards short, Josh would not be kept from a water break, so we did that. And then once we got to the top, we climbed an extra flight of stairs to a better vista and shade and had a lunch of grapes, strawberries, cheese, crackers, and water.

Then we packed the food and trash up, settled Josh into the pack (I wasn’t going to let him fall down the mountain trail), and headed back for home where Josh had a great nap.

During our hike, we made some friends. We met a little boy a year older than Josh named Jack. While we were catching up to Jack, we saw him constantly having his poor daddy pick him up and carry him some twenty to fifty yards before putting him back down. Once introductions were made, Jack learned Josh was a whole year younger and thereafter did not look further for his daddy’s help. I think Jack’s dad appreciated this.

It was all-in-all a great day. I’ve got some pictures to post back here in a day or so of our great outdoor adventure.

Right. A story.

I don’t think this one is so much a story as much as a relation … a glimpse into me.

I have been thinking a lot of my brother. Tonight because I watched a show called Brat Camp – he’s a field counselor at another camp that is similar to the show. It makes me really proud knowing he’s doing something so good for people – for kids who are at the best places in life to change. When I got married, I thought of him as a part of us was being put up on the shelf – a time of being and togetherness that was slipping away except for the occasional get togethers and merriment. When I was in college, I thought of him because of a lot of hardships he was going through in highschool and his first years in college – and always admiring how he stuck to things, never giving in to the pressures of the powers that be, never succumbing to the depression I knew that gnawed away at his heart.

As a younger boy (most people will say there is still very much boy in me) I loved the idea of flying. I thought it was great … if I were to be an animal, it would either be a wolf who could speed through the forests or some bird of prey above it all with a keen eye on everything. Yet thinking back on my life, I can’t ever think of taking a moniker for myself that involved the wind, air, or flying – no, such names were only for my brother.

I use to make up stories for my brother and me. They were the kinds of stories most if not all young boys loved – adventure stories. They generally always featured two heroes, and in most and certainly the best stories, the heroes names were Fireball and Tornado. Incidentally, my brother and I each had a hermit crab – mine named Fireball and his named Tornado. What shocking coincidence. I can’t tell you what adventures were had … only that at the time my brother and I thought the adventures were of the grandest and best told sort … and the stories would not be worth half or even a quarter of their value if the heroic pair were not together.

Later in life, when I went away to college, I adopted the handle mb10 for online play – mb10 a shortened version of monkey boy 10 (too long and irrelevant to explain here). My games of choice in those days were Command-n-Conquer and Descent. My brother fell in love watching me play Descent, and soon he began to want to take turns in the online world. For this purpose, we (or rather I) developed the handle WindLaufer – a german rendition of WindRunner. More often than not, this was shortened to just Wind. He quickly became better than me – a minor ego bruising that I’m more proud of than anything (save his bad temper that also developed during that time).

In the core of me is the idea of my brother. When I think of him as I do tonight, that part of me stirs, lifts, and begins to fly. I become exhilirated, high, emotional. There’s a lot of good things about me, and I cherish those things that my brother and I have together. In a lot of ways, he’s the reason married life is so easy for me – being comfortable with someone, being open with someone, being free with someone. …and so I often find myself missing him yet being proud of him wherever he may be.

My spirit runs in the turbulent winds of the world … and it is with my brother I learned how to fly … and whose company and memory brings glimpses of what must be the winds of the aeries of paradise.

“And now, please rise for our opening hymn, uh…’In the Garden of Eden,’ by I. Ron Butterfly.” Cue the Organ music … annnnnnnd … oh, right, this is suppose to be a serious post … Roger, I owe you a story, bud. I’m thinking …

The theology of Original Sin simply says one thing: Adam’s sin has removed mankind from God’s presence – from communion with God.

Right … but that’s the short version. For the purpose of making it a little more meaningful, we need to unpack that simple statement.

In the Garden of Eden
Prior to the Fall, mankind – Adam and Eve – lived in communion with God and all of His Creation in the Garden of Eden. In the simplest sense, this means that Adam and Eve lived in a manner that was consistent with God’s creative purpose. All they did was right and pleasing to God. But living in communion with God and Creation goes beyond just following some set of rules. Living in communion means you give all of yourself over to those things. You give God all that you are. You give Creation all that you are. You receive from them what they gift to you – you don’t take what is not yours and not given.

And that’s the setup for the Fall. God had given Adam and Eve everything in the Garden except the fruit off of one tree – the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil. Being as the whole of Creation is suppose to be represented in the Garden, you would have to conclude that there was plenty of other food around – the restriction God had placed on Adam and Eve was no real burden on their part … just an observance for obedience.

The Serpent then comes along and tells Eve (and Adam) that eating the fruit would make them like God. Eve (and Adam) like this idea. They like the idea of being like God. They also know that God has said eating the fruit is an act of disobedience. When they take the fruit and eat it, they in effect prefer themselves over God. They eat the fruit hoping to elevate their place in Creation to that of (or at least like) God’s place – a place that God had not given them.

In eating the fruit, however, they find that they are not elevated. Instead, they become aware of the fullness of freedom, that of acting outside of obedience – and so they become aware of evil. They gain that knowledge of what evil is and the vulnerability it preys upon – thus, they don’t need to be told they are naked, they know it and dress in fig leaves and hide. They also become aware that life wasn’t simply pleasant before, it was good … and their disobedience has created something in them that isn’t good.

When God finds Adam and Eve in hiding afterwards, the first question He asks them is, “Who told you that you were naked?” It’s a redundant question. God knows how it is they know they are naked. The question is a grace, a freely given opportunity, for Adam and Eve to repent. Instead of answering wholly truthfully by accepting responsibility, Adam denies the fullness of the blame proper to him and says, essentially, “Eve made me do it.” Eve then gets the same opportunity … but instead, “The Devil made me do it.” And certainly, the Devil did instigate the whole affair and certainly did not speak truthfully – God knows this character, he has already made any choice he would make, repentance is beyond him, and so God does not question him.

So it came to pass that mankind came to be at spiritual odds with the Devil and his minions, mankind is promised a redeemer from the Devil and his minions and the suffering resulting from his deception, women suffer greater pain in childbirth, women are subjugated under their husbands, and mankind’s communion with Creation is broken. Worst of all, Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden of Eden, from communion with God. All that was wholly good was lost, but all that is good was not destroyed nor abandoned.

More to come …