So, as of yesterday (9/22), summer is over even in the most technical of senses. Can you say transvernal equinox? If you can, don't. People will think you are pompous and arrogant. I learned that lesson in middle school. That's a side note. I kinda feel like complaining about summer being over. I guess that won't make much of an entry though. Shoot.
Sometimes I post things on here because I have something to say. Other times, I post because I have an hour or so before I really feel like sleeping. Can you guess which of the two situations this is?
So, speaking of equinoxes, have you ever heard that on ten minutes on either side of the spring equinox, something in the Earth's magnetic field will change so that you can stand an egg on its small end? When I was in maybe third or fourth grade, my mom and my brother spent at least an hour trying to get that trick to work. Amazingly, we actually did get the eggs balanced after a lot of labor... but I'm pretty sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the sun's direct rays hitting a different side of an imaginary line going around the circumference of the earth. I guess what I'm wondering is, was my dad just making up this prank to keep us busy, or has anybody else ever heard something like that before?
I'm glad I told that story, it kept me from e-blathering about ethics in public health for a couple paragraphs. Sigh.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
The blame game
I was bored in class, so devised a flow chart to help people find the source of any general problem they might have. I call it culprit finder, v1.0.
--------------------------- Addendum, 9/17/07 -------------------
1) Click on the image to see it bigger.
2) Reproduction of this chart in any form without my expressed consent is not only legal but encouraged. Go nuts, Vicki.
--------------------------- Addendum, 9/17/07 -------------------
1) Click on the image to see it bigger.
2) Reproduction of this chart in any form without my expressed consent is not only legal but encouraged. Go nuts, Vicki.
Friday, September 07, 2007
On matters of belief
I decided to create the new label 'personal parables' for this entry because the future is just history that has yet to be repeated. On second thought, I'm not sure about that, actually... but nonetheless I bet I'll be able to use it again. But enough nitpicking for now.
My friend Drew, who probably doesn't read this, has recently become rather fond of the idea that the 9/11 attacks from almost six years ago were actually some sort of conspiracy. If you're like me, you probably smirk at the ridiculousness of the idea. However, Drew is more than a little bit passionate about this issue, so, picking up on this, I've let him state his case on a couple of different occasions without trying to argue with him.
And the weird thing is, after listening to him long enough I can start to see a point coming through. The evidence is, remarkably, kind of compelling. Like for instance, the World Trade Center towers collapsed faster than should be allowed by physics under free-fall conditions (implying the use of explosives); larger fires in more poorly constructed skyscrapers didn't make them collapse; the building housing the SEC imploded even though it wasn't hit by a plane; the only video of Osama bin Laden claiming responsibility for the attacks looks fabricated. And so on.
So as for me, now I've gone from laughing at the notion to at least having to say I'm unsure. I think the facts are at least worth checking, and that research into the matter isn't necessarily a gigantic waste of time. I guess I'm a fence-sitter, if you will.
The question is, what can I learn from Drew when it comes to presenting the improbable to a skeptical audience? Because sharing the unbelievable is exactly what being a follower of Christ entails. The idea that God would become a person, die, and then be raised from the dead is really the same kind of improbability as a massive conspiracy being launched so that our government can start empire-building. In both cases, you start off with common knowledge, but if you honestly care about the truth you will need to learn more, to gather facts and draw conclusions. And you will want other people to do the same. The difference, of course, is that the stakes are much higher in the case of the gospel. What ingredients are we missing that make the average unbeliever unwilling to give the validity of Christ an honest evaluation? How much of the reception has to do with the passion of the presenter? That thought makes me a little bit nervous.
By extension, I think this also obligates Christians to be better at hearing other peoples' unlikely theories. It seems to me to be a classic case of doing unto others as I am done by: if I want people to hear me when I tell them that the dead are raised, I must also be willing to tolerate them telling me about things I might initially believe to be utter bullcrap in every way. The inconvenience I feel because of this is more than offset by the forgiveness that God offers for dropping everything to follow him. Amen?
My friend Drew, who probably doesn't read this, has recently become rather fond of the idea that the 9/11 attacks from almost six years ago were actually some sort of conspiracy. If you're like me, you probably smirk at the ridiculousness of the idea. However, Drew is more than a little bit passionate about this issue, so, picking up on this, I've let him state his case on a couple of different occasions without trying to argue with him.
And the weird thing is, after listening to him long enough I can start to see a point coming through. The evidence is, remarkably, kind of compelling. Like for instance, the World Trade Center towers collapsed faster than should be allowed by physics under free-fall conditions (implying the use of explosives); larger fires in more poorly constructed skyscrapers didn't make them collapse; the building housing the SEC imploded even though it wasn't hit by a plane; the only video of Osama bin Laden claiming responsibility for the attacks looks fabricated. And so on.
So as for me, now I've gone from laughing at the notion to at least having to say I'm unsure. I think the facts are at least worth checking, and that research into the matter isn't necessarily a gigantic waste of time. I guess I'm a fence-sitter, if you will.
The question is, what can I learn from Drew when it comes to presenting the improbable to a skeptical audience? Because sharing the unbelievable is exactly what being a follower of Christ entails. The idea that God would become a person, die, and then be raised from the dead is really the same kind of improbability as a massive conspiracy being launched so that our government can start empire-building. In both cases, you start off with common knowledge, but if you honestly care about the truth you will need to learn more, to gather facts and draw conclusions. And you will want other people to do the same. The difference, of course, is that the stakes are much higher in the case of the gospel. What ingredients are we missing that make the average unbeliever unwilling to give the validity of Christ an honest evaluation? How much of the reception has to do with the passion of the presenter? That thought makes me a little bit nervous.
By extension, I think this also obligates Christians to be better at hearing other peoples' unlikely theories. It seems to me to be a classic case of doing unto others as I am done by: if I want people to hear me when I tell them that the dead are raised, I must also be willing to tolerate them telling me about things I might initially believe to be utter bullcrap in every way. The inconvenience I feel because of this is more than offset by the forgiveness that God offers for dropping everything to follow him. Amen?
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