“Continue the discussion that Jesus started a couple thousand years ago” at the new thought provoking website, A Questionable Faith.

Christ has his rank among the world’s great thinkers. But Son of God, isn’t that farfetched?

Bono:
No, it’s not farfetched to me. Look, the secular response to the Christ story always goes like this: he was a great prophet, obviously a very interesting guy, had a lot to say along the lines of other great prophets, be they Elijah, Muhammad, Buddha, or Confucius. But actually Christ doesn’t allow you that. He doesn’t let you off that hook. Christ says: No. I’m not saying I’m a teacher, don’t call me teacher. I’m not saying I’m a prophet. I’m saying: “I’m the Messiah.” I’m saying: “I am God incarnate.” And people say: No, no, please, just be a prophet. A prophet, we can take. You’re a bit eccentric. We’ve had John the Baptist eating locusts and wild honey, we can handle that. But don’t mention the “M” word! Because, you know, we’re gonna have to crucify you.

[ more here ]

…And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

Merry Christmas,
Mark

Madonna declares that she feels some solidarity with Scientologist Tom Cruise because they both have faced a backlash for their unorthodox faiths.

“If it makes Tom Cruise happy, I don’t care if he prays to turtles,” the publicity-minded pop icon tells the New York Daily News. “And I don’t think anybody else should.”

This is a common mindset of today, “Who cares as long as you’re happy.” Truth is no longer important. Happiness is all that matters.

Remember Job? The man who lost everything, including happiness, just to hold onto what was true! Truth was once the ultimate goal. And people would labor intently to try and find truth. But now, today, who cares, just be happy.

Big problem, that place called Hell! Being happy doesn’t get you anywhere.

“All men die, not all men really live.” This phrase from Mel Gibson’s Braveheart sent ripples of clarity into our culture. It was this theme that blazed the movie to receive such a large following. It strikes a longing of the heart.

I want to pick this up as my theme, though it is never a pleasant one. Sitting in a pool of ideas and allowing thoughts of death swirl in our minds moves us with discomfort and even resistance. It is unnerving. It is scary.

All men and women die. It is true. The death rate on planet earth is still one hundred percent. It may come in the infant’s crib or it may come to the aged. It may strike the unsuspecting pedestrian or approach through disease. We all know in the back of our minds that death is inevitable. What we do not know is when and how.

The ancients were more acquainted with death than we are today. It was always around them in the brutalities of war abroad and in the domestic square. They did not cart their sick to the hospital or their old to the convalescent home. No, the sick, the fatally wounded, and the aged were in the home, and in the neighbor’s home. When the final breath was taken, many witnessed the passing.

Because of this, they also had a keener awareness of death’s approach. Throughout the Bible, death seems to be a lesser deal than many other things. It was far more important to be on the side of the Lord than it was to spare your life. Though death was undesirable, it was part of a bigger picture.

Because of this, many knew that one of the goals in this life was to prepare for the next. To be holy, to walk blameless, and to leave a legacy for others to do the same, was not to leave a dazzling obituary. There was something more at stake, something more to be earned, and something more on which to live a life.

This antithesis leans hard against today’s culture.

Today we drown out the fear of death with a mocking denial of it. John Bayly, who lost all his sons in his lifetime, says, “The sort of taboo Victorians placed on public discussion of sex has been transferred to death in our culture.”(1) Not only do we sideline its ugliness to hospitals but we also simulate an artificial fear of it in our horror movies. After the movie is over, we walk back into our ordinary lives—something death really never permits. We see death so often on the silver screen and in the flashing television box that it has become trivial. If that isn’t enough, many of our young people create a subculture of death, complete with skulls, dark clothes, and dark music, making the real point trivial. Some flirt with it in high-risk sports, feeling the thrill of brushing against a closer encounter with death. I wonder, though, how many of us sit in the pool of thoughts that life is frail and that our purposes here are bigger than skate-parks, cinemas, and adrenaline-surging sports.

“For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain,” said the Apostle (Phil 1:21 ESV). That sounds weird to our cultural ears. Yet he aligned the formula and set his face in the right direction. In the same passage he actually says that he would rather leave the body but knows it is better for others that he remain and tell the good news.

Without being pessimistic or gloomy, let us take seriously death today and set our purposes toward preparation. For many of us, this may be an excellent motivator. If your death were to happen soon, would you be ready? Would you be satisfied with your legacy? Would you be confident of the maturity of your soul? Would you be secure in the love of Christ, the only one who can take us beyond the grave? May these sober thoughts turn us diligently toward the Cross and refresh our commitments to follow hard after him who conquered death.

(1) Joseph Bayly, The Last Thing We Talk About, Revised Edition (Elgin, IL: David C. Cook Publishing, 1973), 18. Highly Recommended.

[ from Ravi Zacharias ]