Jolt!, Phil Cooke [reading women txt] 📗

our world as something measurable, concrete, and exact.

But we’ve discovered that life isn’t as exact as we thought. In our age of “scientism,” we put our faith in science and considered religious belief to be primitive and foolish. We discovered that, while science matters enormously, it doesn’t necessarily hold the promise we thought it did. Marriages still fail, rates of violence and crime have not fallen, and wars still exist.

Life is wonderful, but it is also quite messy.

As a pastor’s son, I attended more funerals by age twelve than most people attend in a lifetime. My dad conducted funerals for children, teenagers, young adults—many people who had no reason to die and every reason to live.

Again I saw that . . . the race is not to the swift . . . nor favor to the skillful; but time and chance happen to them all.

—ECCLESIASTES 9:11 NRSV

If we are to understand real change, we have to accept the mystery of life, realize that it’s not always fair and that we don’t have all the answers. If postmodern thought can help us, this is perhaps its strongest argument. Life is not necessarily about certainty, being right, or finding all the answers.

In a disrupted world, the secret to life is about asking the right questions.

From the beginning, we have been creatures of choice. We are not ruled by instincts, robotic instructions, or programming. We have a choice—but within that choice is the great paradox.

Choice means . . .

• we are free to do evil as well as good.

• we live in a world where birth, life, and growth are balanced by decay, disease, and destruction.

• the responsibility to do the right thing—not the license to do what we please.

• true redemption is in the struggle of life.

• ambiguity.

Listen to the evening news for very long and you’ll see the parade of people demanding “rights” for everything you can possibly imagine. On camera these people are quick to talk about rights, but not so quick to talk about responsibilities. Understanding ambiguity is to take responsibility for our own lives in spite of what happens to us. Accepting ambiguity may be our greatest act of faith.

Bookstores are filled with books providing easy answers. Go to the self-help or business section and you’ll find a multitude of titles such as The Three Easy Steps to Financial Success, Living at Your Best, Successful Families, or The Secrets of a Strong Marriage. I’ve read most of those type of books over the years, and I have to admit that I’m still not as financially secure as I’d like, I could still be living better, my family does dumb things, and my wife and I continue to have our spats. I’ve discovered the search for easy answers is a futile effort that usually leads to failure.

Yes, much of the information in these books is terrific. Many of the facts are right-on, and they include things that can really help people. But the truth is, life isn’t about finding easy answers—life is about asking the right questions.

When you can get away from your obsessive search for effortless answers to the problems you face, you’ll begin to understand a much bigger picture.

» LIFE DOESN’T ALWAYS MAKE SENSE.

Sometimes no matter how hard we work, the project still fails. No matter how hard we try, our spouses still file for divorce. And no matter how much we intervene, a child still experiments with drugs or alcohol.

I watched the TV news last night as a father wept because his thirteen-year-old daughter decided to take the family car on a joyride, lost control, and killed two young children. She came from a good family, she was an excellent student, and her parents loved her and raised her by the book. There was no reason for her impulse, but she did it anyway, and now three families are shattered.

As I looked at that weeping father, I realized there are no easy answers in life.

I saw all the deeds that are done under the sun; and see, all is vanity and a chasing after wind.

—ECCLESIASTES 1:14 NRSV

If you think the Bible is a story of fairy tales for wimps, think again. The Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes was written by a man who had seen everything, been everywhere, and owned as much as any man on the earth. He had enjoyed everything life had to offer, and all he saw was emptiness and vanity. He understood the difference between a life of true understanding and a life devoid of purpose and meaning. It’s a book that deals with the reality of living and doesn’t hold back or cut corners.

Film critic and professor of theology and culture Robert Johnston wrote in his book Useless Beauty: Ecclesiastes Through the Lens of Contemporary Film:

Medieval Old Testament scholars called Ecclesiastes one of the Bible’s “two most dangerous books.” (The other was the Song of Songs with its overt sensuality.) Though its trenchant observations on life reveal a fragile joy—a useless beauty—its paragraphs also brim over with a cynicism and even a despair that seem out of place in the Bible’s grand narrative. (19)

But at the end of this despair, the writer of Ecclesiastes also offers us hope. He offers real wisdom instead of easy answers. Life is not a manageable project or a test to be taken. We can find small joys every day if we have eyes of faith. We can find meaning if we search for a greater purpose. And perhaps most important, we need to realize that life is a great gift.

In M. Night Shyamalan’s movie Signs, a Pennsylvania minister has lost his faith and abandoned his calling because of the senseless death of his wife. But as the story unfolds, he discovers fragments of meaning in normally inconsequential events. Things others don’t notice begin to have enormous meaning for this former pastor. The Bible says in 1 Corinthinans 13:12 that now we see in part, and for him, the parts begin to make sense.