the theological thoughts of a twenty-something who still thinks farts are funny

“Greco-Roman Sexual Themes in Arrested Development and the Pauline Epistles.”

The heart of the Sabbath is to acknowledge a profound relationship between religion and the social order; there can be no Sabbath-keeping that endures any kind of oppression of the poor and weak.

— J.G. McConville, Deuteronomy Commentary

I think I’m a pretty funny guy. I try to be at least. I love to make people laugh and unless my friends have been faking it for the last twenty-three years (I’m sure they have more than a few times) I’m at least remotely good at it. 

As a small child, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I sincerely answered, “Canadian.” 

Because I thought that meant “comedian.”

But I haven’t always been super funny. There was a period around 2008-2010 when I wasn’t the most fun person to be around. I was super involved in politics and I was super cynical. 

In fact, I can be a very cynical person. I think many creative people are (again, not saying I’m a really great creative person. I’m just really, really not a mathematical person. It’s that rightside-leftside of the brain thing). 

So much of humor, or writing, or art, or songwriting comes from making observations about the world around you - largely rooted in some form of critique - and using wit to illustrate said observations. That is essentially what stand-up comedy is. 

So my question is this: does cynicism have any place in the Gospel story? 

let me know what you think HERE. 

Does cynicism have a place in the Gospel story? Is there such a thing as positive cynicism? Or is that an oxymoron I use to justify my own bad habit?

All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one’s heart have a common provenance in pain.

— Cormac McCarthy, The Road

“Thus says King Cyrus of Persia: The Lord, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem in Judah. Any of those among you who are of his people—may their God be with them!—are now permitted to go up to Jerusalem in Judah, and rebuild the house of the Lord, the God of Israel—he is the God who is in Jerusalem; and let all survivors, in whatever place they reside, be assisted by the people of their place with silver and gold, with goods and with animals, besides freewill-offerings for the house of God in Jerusalem.” - Ezra 1.2-4

Imagine that whoever wins the presidential election this year, that his first order of business in January 2013 was to give back to the Native Americans every acre of land that was taken from them over the centuries.* 

It’s unthinkable because it is the most absurd political decision one could make. 

And yet Cryrus’ edict around 538 BCE does just that. Ezra-Nehemiah gives us a startlingly image of what Yahweh’s reconciliation looks like.

Reconciliation is absurd. It’s political suicide. It is dangerous. It is counter-cultural. It is subversive. 

And reconciliation is unfinished. 

An interviewer asks theologian and biblical scholar, Walter Brueggemann, “what pisses you off?”


“But Abraham had faith and did not doubt.  He believed the absurd. If Abraham had doubted…he would have thrust the knife into his own breast. He would have been admired in the world and his name never forgotten; but it is one thing to be admired, another to be a guiding star that saves the anguished.”

Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling 

“But Abraham had faith and did not doubt.  He believed the absurd. If Abraham had doubted…he would have thrust the knife into his own breast. He would have been admired in the world and his name never forgotten; but it is one thing to be admired, another to be a guiding star that saves the anguished.”

Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling 

(Source: foreverflourishing)

I believe; help my unbelief!

— Mark 9.24

[My mother] taught me to be grateful for my life regardless of what that entailed, and that’s directly related to the image of Christ on the cross and the example of sacrifice that he gave us. What she taught me is that the deliverance God offers you from pain is not no pain — it’s that the pain is actually a gift. What’s the option? God doesn’t really give you another choice.

— Stephen Colbert, How Many Stephen Colberts Are There?, New York Times Magazine, January 4, 2012

For better or worse, this blog has been from the start, mostly a product of life experiences and a response to external forces in my life. Thus, the past month has consisted much about lament. That’s not to be depressing, it’s just the season I found myself in. As I exit this season, this post is aimed to prove that while lament is “sad,” it is anything but depressing (at least, clinically speaking).

My grandmother past away a week ago today and she began her journey towards that day over a month ago. I am convinced that the tears shed, the songs sang, the stories remembered and even the food ate throughout this mourning period are all a very real and powerful expression of worship. 

In fact, the lament is a very special form of worship. It is one that is unique and special to our current state. In the new heaven and new earth there will be no lament. The world as God intended has no room for pain and thus, no need for lament. However, in a world eschatologically stretched between the present “already” and the future “not yet,” our cries and our pains offer a powerful and unique form of communication with the divine. 

The lament was not a peculiar form of worship for the Old Testament poets. It was the poets and prophets who specialized in the lament, and their poems and oracles are our liturgy.

For the psalmists, the lament functioned to voice the legitimate complaints and fears of this life to Yahweh and appeal for his help. The lament is not a sign of faith deficiency, but rather it comes forth from faith. It is a confession of trust, a petition for deliverance, a remembrance of God’s name and covenant and it is a vow to praise Him after. 

This is peculiar to our time because the modern church meets lament with great resistance. “If it is God’s will, who are we to complain?” We offer pithy remarks about Jesus being raised and “better places,” and other half-sincere, solomonic statements to ease the pain of suffering. But even Jesus wept. Even Jesus lamented.  And we believe in better places but it is the lament that gives meaning and confidence of new bodies, new heavens, and new earths. 

As my Old Testament professor said, “We live in between the times, death and pain remain part of our experience,” in these times, “lament is real engagement with God.” It is recognition that Yahweh is worthy of hearing our cries and great enough to do something about them. Thus lament is worship and thus should not be glossed over, swept under the rug, or met with resistance. Rather it should be embraced and encouraged.