How I can vote for Obama the Baby Killer

If you don't feel like reading all of this, at least read "The Good Part" (below)

This coming November 4, less than two weeks away, I fully intend to cast my vote for Barack Obama as president of the United States.

This doesn't sit too well with a lot of the people around me, particularly those back home and in my family.

The most mentioned issue, of course, is abortion, mostly in the vein of "how can you vote for a baby killer?" I regularly get anti-Obama emails from my aunt, the most recent of which included yet another youtube video. It's a video that compares McCain and Obama's stances on abortion. It's nothing new - I've been emailed a few such videos.

So, the question remains - how can I vote for someone who ruthlessly murders the fetuses so prominently displayed in said video?

My answer is twofold. Firstly, I will say that I don't totally agree with Obama on abortion. He is a bit far left of me. But abortion is not my issue, for a few reasons. I believe that unless you are running for office, you will never 100% agree with a candidate. And even then you will probably have to make some compromises to pander to your base. There are many other reasons that I am voting for Obama, and abortion is one issue that I disagree with among many that I agree with.

Secondly, I am personally conflicted about what laws should be made around abortion. Personally, I think abortions are a terrible thing, and should never be necessary. But one of the reasons I am more liberal that I was raised to be is that I am vehemently against legislating Christian morals. That's what the Church of England did, it's what the Pharisees did, and it's what the Religious Right is trying to do. The first eventually resulted in the country we now call the United States.

The second is what Jesus spent a good part of his ministry railing against.

THE GOOD PART

In fact, the very end of the above-mentioned video is why I decided to write this note. It used the imagery from the Passion of the Christ of Jesus drawing a line in the sand, presumably to invoke battle imagery - "This is the line, cross it and be with us or stay there and prepare for war" kind of thinking. The use of this particular imagery (from the biblical passage in Luke 8) struck me for two reasons.

First, Jesus was doing anything but when he was drawing that line (or whatever he was doing in the sand, we don't actually know). He was defending an adulterer, of all things, from the Pharisees! I would assume that to many of the Religious Right, their ideal America would involve outlawing adultery. But here we have Jesus, telling the Pharisees (who did just that) that it's not their place to judge. The famous "let him who is sinless cast the first stone" passage. And then, when he had the chance, did he condemn her? No - in fact, the Bible says, "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin." He put the responsibility for her actions right back where they belong - on her, not on the law. If Jesus were in politics today, I can't help but think he would get pounded for "promoting adultery" and "endorsing infidelity" for his stance.

Second, the Religious Right often uses the abortion issue to try to corner people like me - the "how can you vote for a baby killer" question. Strangely, right there in the black and white of scripture, was this:

They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

The Pharisees were trying to pick something that Jesus couldn't possibly object to - she was an Adulterer, for goodness' sake! - and get him on their side. They were taking a single issue and setting it up in black and white, trying to corner him into either condemning or commending her actions.

Jesus' response is a good summary of how I can vote for Obama. I don't want to misappropriate Jesus for my cause. I don't know what Jesus would do about abortion if he were running for president, although I tend to agree with Huckabee. But it helps elucidate my position. I don't think it's the place of the government to go legislating religion - as my other notes have said at length. Change on issues like abortion and gay marriage doesn't come from the outside by the government - it comes from the inside, on a personal level. That's what the church does. The government simply can't, and trying to force the church's job onto the government's shoulders is just asking for trouble.

Holding...

So, for the past couple years, I've pretty much been rethinking everything. And I've done a lot of thinking - a lot of talking, reading, some more thinking. And I'm not nearly done yet.
But I did just recently finish Mere Christianity, one of the books on the long list of books to read. Next up I think is Waking the Dead, although I don't know if I'll be in the right place to read it, but I suppose I'll check it out anyway.

Cause see, here's the problem.

So I came into college, and like most of the rest of the world, realized that I have no freaking clue why I believe what I supposedly believed. I don't know how my experience compares to others, but I basically was play-acting up until that point, which made me pretty good at appearing Christian, but it didn't make me one any more than we can resurrect Hamlet from the dead by putting on a play.

So I looked at what I supposedly believed in, and realized I had all kinds of problems with it. Mostly related to me being fiercely and primarily logical.

And over the past couple years, I've mostly dealt with the problems I had. I've realized that the Focus on the Family brand of Christianity that I was raised in is most definitely not for me, but (most importantly) that's okay. It may be okay for some people - and those people just tend to frustrate me, but that's beside the point - but I needed something else.

Now I'm at the point where I have pretty much built something, a framework, or at least a vague idea of a faith that I could believe in, that I don't think is heretical. There's not a lot of solid points yet, because I haven't really done anything with it. But most likely, it wouldn't involve young-earth creationism, would be terrified of legislating morality, would realize that we aren't a Christian nation, and would have its feet firmly planted on this earth.

But now what?

Mere Christianity was a great book, and there were a lot of things I liked about it. Surprisingly enough, I enjoyed (and I think benefited from) the second half more than the first, which surprised me. When he prefaced it by saying basically that these are Christian issues, I thought since that's not where I am, they wouldn't apply. But what it ended up doing is either confirming my restructuring, validating what I had come up with, or making me slightly uncomfortable and pointing out possible problems with my framework. And it made me think.

The first half was mostly (as far as I remember, it was a while ago) semi-logically ramping up to a reason for God existing. As I had been told previously, it was more of a literary, sociological-type argument, which wasn't terribly gripping to me, and definitely didn't make me a convert on the spot. Sorry, all.

And that's where the problem is - I have this framework that I could probably work with, and plenty of knowledge of how it's supposed to work from my eighteen years of play-acting, but am sitting here without a reason.

Is there a reason for that? A reason for not finding a reason? I don't know. One of the things that I've wondered when pondering this, and something that came up a lot reading Lewis, was pride. In fact, Lewis says the following:
"The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-Conceit: and the virtue opposite to it, in Christian morals, is called Humility. You may remember, when I was talking about sexual morality, I warned you that the centre of Christian morals did not lie there. Well, now we have come to the centre. According to Christian teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere fleabites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind."

Dang.

Well, I was going to separate the Mere Christianity insights into a different note, but I'm leading into them, so I might as well go into it now. I'm going to kind of go backwards, because it works best that way.

The chapter "Nice People or New Men" had a lot of things that caught my eye. To start the context, I'll just quote him:
"There are people (a great many of them) who are slowly ceasing to be Christians but who still call themselves by that name: some of them are clergymen. There are other people who are slowly becoming Christians though they do not yet call themselves so."

Of the two categories, I would obviously fit better into the latter. Later in the chapter, he elaborates on the vast array of Christians there are, and the vast array of backgrounds from which people come to Christianity. And I spotted myself. Right in the middle of the chapter, he says:
"Now quite plainly, natural gifts carry with them a similar danger [to being rich and finding happiness through wealth]. If you have sound nerves and intelligence and health and popularity and a good upbringing, you are likely to be quite satisfied with your character as it is. 'Why drag God into it?' you may ask. A certain level of good conduct comes fairly easy to you . You are not one of those wretched creatures who is always being tripped up by sex, or dipsomania, or nervousness, or bad temper. Everyone says you are a nice chap and (between ourselves) you agree with them. You are quite likely to believe that all this niceness is your own doing: and you may easily not feel the need for any better kind of goodness."
I'm not bragging or being all self-righteous and crap (that's not the kind of pride I'm worried about) - I love the parenthetical "between ourselves" that Lewis added - but after looking up dipsomania (turns out I'm not an alcoholic), that's pretty much where I am. Which, as it turns out, isn't exactly the best of circumstances. On the next page he writes:
"There is either a warning or an encouragement here for every one of us. If you are a nice person -- if virtue comes easily to you -- beware! Much is expected from those to whom much is given. If you mistake for your own merits what are really God's gifts to you through nature, and if you are contented with simply being nice, you are still a rebel: and all those gifts will only make your fall more terrible, your corruption more complicated, your bad example more disastrous. The Devil was an archangel once; his natural gifts were as far above yours as yours are above those of a chimpanzee."
And this is where we find the rub. Because one thing I've never liked about the whole Christianity thing is the distinct lack of personal achievement, as I see it. Everything is from God, nothing is us, we have to be eternally grateful to him, we're nothing. I know that's a pretty pessimistic and negative view of it, but I'm an engineer. I'm an ENTP. I find my worth in what I do, what I produce, the things that I create. That's what I strive for, that's what I enjoy. Also, I see my supposed saintly behavior as simply the best way to get along with people. Heaven knows that I've been doing it for years now, and it's been pretty successful in making my life happy and generally good.

This is where I see my pride, where Lewis pokes me a bit. Or a lot. Because I don't want to attribute everything I am, everything I've done to God. I've done a lot of it myself, dangit. And so I'm at a bit of an impasse - I don't have a good enough reason to make that leap, to sacrifice my accomplishments and pride and attribute it to some greater being that I've never seen, heard, touched, or felt, physically or otherwise.

And I'm not sure how far I have to go - I know that some people (such as the aforementioned Focus on the Family types) tend to attribute EVERYTHING to God. I got an A on a test? Thanks, God. I manage to somehow survive the harrowing drive to and from work every day, just like thousands upon thousands of others, Christian and non-Christian alike? God must be protecting me.
Obviously, that annoys me. I hope it's just an extreme, opposite of attributing everything to ourselves, and isn't how it's actually supposed to work. Because I need a reason to live, to do things, and if it's not even my doing, why do it?

So that's my hang-up. I don't want to give up myself, my pride, without a good reason. He sums up the difficulty well in a previous chapter:
"The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self -- all your wishes and lamentations -- to Christ. But it is far easier than what we are all trying to do instead. For what we are trying to do is remain what we call 'ourselves', to keep personal happiness as our great aim in life, and yet at the same time be 'good'. We are all trying to let our mind and heart go their own way -- centred on money or pleasure or ambition -- and hoping, in spite of this, to behave honestly and chastely and humbly. And that is exaclty what Christ warned us you could not do."
There was a lot more after that, but I won't just go quote the whole book. That little section reminded me of the parable of the young ruler, a story I had always just looked at and thought about how giving away all your money wasn't a great idea. But that's not the point of the parable, I realized. Money isn't my vice - it's not my centre, like it was for the young ruler. My vice is ambition - I shudder much more at the thought of giving up all of my accomplishment, my inventiveness, my engineeringness, than I do at giving up money. That was a new thought for me.

Lewis had a few words of encouragement even for me though. For one, he followed up the above-quoted description of myself (the dipsomania one) with this:
"Often people who have all these natural kinds of goodness cannot be brought to recognize their need for Christ at all until, one day, the natural goodness lets them down and their self-satisfaction is shattered. In other words, it is hard for those who are 'rich' in this sense to enter the Kingdom."
Okay, not the most encouraging passage, but to me it says that there may indeed be a point where I see a reason. Sure, it may be painful, but it'll be a reason. Cause I'm don't like this limbo place I'm in right now.

And a more wholly positive remark that I saw myself in was a few chapters back, as follows:
"When a young man who has been going to church in a routine way honestly realizes that he does not believe in Christianity and stops going - provided he does it for honesty's sake and not just to annoy his parents - the spirit of Christ is probably nearer to him than it ever was before."
I honestly see myself in that position - I'm not doing this whole thing to just rebel or be annoying or because it's the hip thing to do. I think that I honestly am questioning all this because I need to.

After all that, where am I left? Still pretty much in limbo. Because I could just throw my arms up and be a Christian full-on, but why? I'm pretty content with where I am, and where I'm headed. I don't see any sore lack of fulfillment in my life, or a big hole. And yeah, I know, that's what Lewis said I'd say. But remember, I can't just take Lewis' word as gospel. If I did, I would have to take Stephen Hawking and Tom Robbins and all the other atheist writers out there as gospel, too, which obviously wouldn't get me very far. I have to have a reason, so I can explain myself to the rest of the world.

And as of yet, I don't.

So I'm holding. Waiting for a collapse of my self-image, for my world to come crashing down on me? Maybe. In any case, that turning point hasn't come yet. I keep filling in holes in my framework, my ideas, my understanding, but nothing conclusive.

Yay.

Disclaimer:
I don't write these things because I want advice. The reason I write them is partially to keep those who are wondering where I am informed, and partially to force myself to dump what I'm thinking on a page, because I have to think about it that way. I doubt that a one-off comment on my note will have much of an effect on me in the long run, and I won't be offended in the least if you don't comment. If you want to chat with me, do so. I'm on IM and Facebook pretty often, and will be back at school pretty soon. I don't mean any offense or to be bristly, I'm just saving you some effort.

So I've been reading Mere Christianity...

And am enjoying it...it's a really good book, and has made me think a lot, and confirmed some things that I've been thinking. I'll probably write a few notes about it, but I wanted to let this quote pretty much speak for itself. While he is talking about divorce in the UK in the 1950s, I think it is very relevant, and has many similarities to gay marriage in America today. It stood out to me particularly because the last couple sentences are the exact same conclusion I have been coming to with gay marriage and the church. At any rate, it is definitely something to think about (emphasis mine):

"Before leaving the question of divorce, I should like to distinguish two things which are very often confused. The Christian conception of marriage is one: the other is the quite different question - how far Christians, if they are voters or Members of Parliament, ought to try to force their views on the rest of the community by embodying them in the divorce laws. A great many people seem to think that if you are a Christian yourself you should try to make divorce difficult for every one. I do not think that. At least I know I should be very angry if the Mohammedans tried to prevent the rest of us from drinking wine. My own view is that the Churches should frankly recognize that the majority of the British people are not Christians and, therefore, cannot be expected to live Christian lives. There ought to be two distinct kinds of marriage: one governed by the State with rules enforced on all citizens, the other governed by the Church with rules enforced by her on her own members. The distinction ought to be quite sharp, so that a man knows which couples are married in a Christian sense and which are not."

The only thing I want to say is that while 75% of America does claim to be Christian, that number has been in decline, and it seems to me that most of them do little more than go to church on Sunday anyway. In any event, I still think it's relevant.

Prayer

Dear God,
Thank you for today, and that we could have a good time [at work, at school, around the house].
I pray that you would help us to get good sleep tonight, so we can be ready for tomorrow, and that we can have a good time tomorrow [at work, at school, around the house].
I pray for [whoever is sick/away/needs prayer], that you would bless them and [help them get better/keep them safe/be with them].
Also I pray for [some event in the near future], that you would help that to go well, and that things will come together for that.
And I pray that you would help us to be like [insert biblical figure from the reading tonight], and that we could learn from [whatever said biblical figure did] and [do whatever they did].
And thank you for sending your son to die for us.
In the name of your son,
Amen.

Now, to start out, I apologize if putting all that, in that manner, in a Facebook note offends anyone. But I came to the conclusion that it's no worse than the reason I'm writing this note.

So for the first time in a while since I've been home, I was part of the devotion time at my house. And once again, what's up above is what happened. Slight variations, my dad's included more fancy words, my little brother's less, my Mom's more concern for others. But the same basic formula.

That's what prayer was to me for 18 years. And I know I do a lot of complaining and such in these notes, so I'll try to restrain myself. Or at least spin it in a positive light.

So I was sitting there, half-listening to the same thing I heard repeatedly for the majority of my childhood, and I thought about how I was going to do this thing when it was my turn.

First of all, "Dear God"? Really? That's for letters. And last I checked, prayer was "talking to God." None of this letter stuff. And I thought about it, and whether I'm talking to my principal, my girlfriend, or my brother, I'll start with "Hey." It'll have different tones, but it'll be there. So "Hey, God". That works better.

And today? Tonight? Tomorrow? All this immediate, "me" stuff. God may care about what happens to me and all. Maybe it's just my self-sufficient nature, but I don't want to have to ask God specifically every day to help me have a good day and a good sleep. I'm already getting crappy sleep because I'm staying up writing this note. That's my fault, I'll deal with it. So none of this day-to-day stuff for me.

Praying for others? I can do that. Especially when I can't actually do anything for them myself. We'll keep that on the list. I still don't like the generic, blanket statements, but that's okay.

So what's that leave me...if I were actually talking to God, I'd thank him for my job and such, because I'm pretty lucky/blessed to have them. So we'll do that.

Okay, my turn.

Hey God.
Thanks for my job with Kinetic, cause it's a good job, and it makes things a lot easier.
And for the Falcon job, cause that's really cool, and has worked out really well.
And I pray for Becky, that you would keep her safe in India. I know she's having a great time, and so thanks for your hand in that.
Also, thanks that Elise has found a great guy, and that that's worked out well. And thanks that they get to come back to SPU, and I pray that you'd help Grant with finances and such, so that he can come, cause that'd be great.
Amen.

Too familiar

For you say, 'I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.' You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. Therefore I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich; and white robes to clothe you and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen; and salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see.
Revelation 3:17-18

Mark 7:6-8

And he said to them, "Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written,
'This people honors me with their lips,
but their heart is far from me;
in vain do they worship me,
teaching as doctrines the precepts of men.'
You leave the commandment of God, and hold fast the tradition of men."

Rules

Humans like rules. God doesn't.

That's something I've noticed, and it kind of came to light in a discussion at college group the other night.

It sounds counterintuitive - we hate rules, we want to do what we want, not what anyone tells us to. But when I look at the old testament, and the new testament, and what the majority (or at least the vocal minority) of American Christians today have set up as Christianity, that's what I see.

God didn't want rules. Initially, he had one - don't touch the tree. That was it. But then Humans had to go and screw everything up. Throughout the Old Testament, we had all these rules and stuff, and despite all the Isrealites' whining, it worked pretty well - they had all these sacrifices and stuff, and they, on the whole, got along with God when all was said and done.

And then God was all like, "Okay, these rules are annoying, and not really what I want. I'm going to send Jesus down to fulfill the law so we don't have all these obnoxious rules. The humans will figure it out, and be much happier. They'll see."

So Christ came down, fulfilled the law, told the Pharisees and Sadducees that all their ideas were the worst idea since Noah let the mosquitoes live on the Ark, and told the people what God was *really* about - loving your neighbor, helping others, letting God's love shine through you. It was great.

So what about Christianity today? Well, the way I see it, a large part of Christianity has done what is to be expected - put rules in place, because rules are comfortable. We have all these rules and guidelines and expectations about what it takes to be a Christian, a good Christian. It makes it easier to count people in or out, put them in a box.

Where this really manifests itself is in salvation - Evangelical Christianity seems obsessed with the sinner's prayer, assigning it as the rule for when you're saved. It's comfortable, it's easy, it's human. Say the right words, and you get into heaven.

But I don't think that's how God intended it. Finding God, following God, seeking God, is a journey. Being on that Journey is what being a Christian should be. Paving the road and adding a gate at some arbitrary point that divides the Christians from the non-Christians doesn't make sense.

It makes it easy to have assurance of salvation, but it doesn't work. At least it didn't for me. So I think that we need to stop being so focused on the rules, as uncomfortable as that may be, and jump into a journey.

I don't know where I'll end up, or what I even think about Heaven and Hell. But I'm beginning a journey, and that's good enough for me. It's the best I can do, because I can't just say some prayer and not mean it. That just doesn't work for me.

So I'm permanently seeking.

If this doesn't make total sense, it's because I'm about to fall asleep. Perhaps I'll read it over after my nap.