Give Thanks and Laugh

At our Thanksgiving table, one of our nephews who works for the Army Corps of Engineers gave us good news: The probability of catastrophic flooding in the Green River Valley this winter is now estimated as only one chance in twenty-five.

Great news!??? How could the prospect of a reservoir failure resulting in catastrophic flooding be good news? The reason we give thanks there is “only” a one in twenty five probability of failure of the north abutment of the Howard Hansen Dam is that earlier this year, the risk was pegged at a one in three chance. King County and the cities of Auburn, Kent, Des Moines and Renton have been feverishly working to erect sandbag extensions on their levies. They have moved some city services out of the valley. They held public meetings to address various contingency plans. Worst case scenarios saw 20 to 30,000 people needing shelter because their homes are under water.

Of course, the Corps has been working on emergencies fixes to the problem. Recently the remediation work had progressed far enough, the Corps revised their risk assessment. Now the flood risk is one in twenty-five. Everyone is breathing a sigh of relief. We are grateful there is only a one in twenty-five chance of flooding.

One way gratitude happens in our lives is for happy changes to happen unexpectedly. This can either be some unexpected benefit or the avoidance of an expected unpleasantness. Life has a way of rearranging our perspective.

This idea is captured in Psalm 107 which begins, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good, his love endures forever.”

Verse 4 pictures some people most apt to give thanks:

Some wandered in the trackless desert. . . . They were hungry and thirsty, and had given up all hope. In their trouble they called to the Lord, and he saved them out of their distress. The Psalmist concludes, “They ought to give thanks to the Lord for his constant love, for the wonderful things he has done for them. He satisfies those who are thirsty, and the hungry he fills with good things.”

There is nothing like starving to heighten one’s appreciation of food. There is nothing like running out of water on a blazing hot afternoon in the desert to make you appreciate water.

Later in the Psalm, the writer talks about people who’ve gone to sea in a sail boat and gotten caught in a terrifying storm. The waves look like mountains. The winds are howling. They are sure they’re going to die. When finally the storm passes and they make it into a harbor, they give thanks.

It rings true, doesn’t it?

Have you ever gone to the doctor and been told you need a biopsy? No matter how reassuring your doctor tries to be, the fact that you have had a biopsy puts you on pins and needles. Life seems very precarious, fragile.

When you finally get word that it’s not cancer, that there’s nothing to worry about, for a little while at least life is suddenly rosier and bright. You are grateful for the mere fact of being alive.

The stern difficulties of life become the occasions of our greatest joy.

I remember running down a steep trail three or four years ago. It was after dark. In the less-than-ideal-illumination given by my headlamp, I misjudged a step and was suddenly airborne. Not good. I landed on my back in a dry creek bed with my head against a rock. I lay there stunned, sure I was seriously injured. I waited for the waves of pain. When they did not immediately come, I tried moving my arms and legs. They worked. I felt my head where it had been against the rock. There was no blood. Not even a bump. I squirmed up out of the tangle of brush, logs and rocks and slowly got to my feet. Other than a few scratches and the shaky feeling of too much adrenaline pumping, I was fine. I retrieved my head lamp, climbed back up to the trail and kept moving. Overflowing with gratitude.

It’s easy to give thanks when life hands us drama.

It is more difficult to remain keenly aware of the blessings are flow routinely through our lives.

Part of our work as a church is to practice giving thanks. We deliberately cultivate an awareness of the goodness God sends our way. We give thanks for food and water. We give thanks for warm clothes and houses that shield from the weather. We give thanks we have money and freedom. One characteristic of spiritual maturity is the habit of giving thanks in all circumstances, as Paul puts it.

Times of scarcity and threat naturally prompt gratitude. However, we don’t have to wait for trouble to ambush us and make us aware of our blessings.

One habit church teaches is saying a blessing or saying grace at meals. The point of saying grace at meals is to cultivate our own awareness of the treasure that food is. Whether the food is boiled potatoes and peas–not my favorite meal–or stir fry with Napa cabbage, tofu, peppers, potatoes and curry powder or pumpkin pie, for those who are aware, the food is reason for great thanksgiving. It is a marvelous bounty, a gift from heaven.

When we stop and say grace we add gratitude to the blessings of flavor and nutrition. The food becomes an occasion of communion with God, an occasion of joy.

(If you're interested in my own use of food as part of my meditation practice see my blog for Oct. 29 titled "Mediation on Morning Coffee and Cookies.")

When we come to church, we practice counting the blessings that God sends our way. Blessings of family, shelter, food, clothing, religious liberty, political freedom, the affection of pets, the glories of nature. We practice thanksgiving.

We know not all is well in the world. We know there is an enemy of life, happiness and holiness afoot in the world. We also know he is on the losing side. Every victory he achieves sets another triumph by God. His most diabolical accomplishments are twisted by God’s creativity into the raw material of something beautiful. The ultimate demonstration of this creativity of God is his use of the Devil's animosity against Jesus to set up the salvation of the world! Judas' treachery becomes a cog in the wheel of redemption!

So we laugh. We are joyful. We are full of gratitude. God reigns. God wins. And we stand with God. So ultimately we, too, win. We are a community of triumphant joy.

Back to Psalm 107.

“Some sat in darkness and the deepest gloom because they had rebelled. Then they cried to the Lord and he saved them. . . . let them give thanks” (verses 10-15).

“Some became fools through their rebellious ways and suffered affliction because of their iniquities . . . then they cried to the Lord in their trouble and he saved them. Let them give thanks . . .” (verses 17-22).

Notice in these verses the problems these people face are problems of their own creation. These people have failed morally and spiritually. They could have been avoided the mess they are in by simply obeying the rules. Still when they cry out to God, God responds. God delivers them and restores them to joy.

God is greater than our moral and spiritual failures. We screw up. And because of our screw ups we are filled with discouragement and despair. How could I have been so stupid, so selfish, so blind? We take out our guilt sticks and beat ourselves up. Undestandably. Sometimes we truly are guilty. We don’t just feel guilty. We have harmed others. We have damaged ourselves.

Then we cry to God out of our distress and he comes and forgives us. He reaches out his hand and pulls us to our feet and invites to us to live again. God is not made helpless by our failures.

He makes us glad again. He teaches us to laugh.

Some people are constantly talking about the evil one, about the enemy. They talk of spiritual warfare as if it were a risky, dangerous endeavor whose outcome is in doubt. If the battle is between God and the devil, between goodness and evil, between light and darkness, there is no question about the final outcome. We step into the battle roaring with laughter. Even if we are cut down by the enemy, our cause will triumph. If we are committed to truth, justice and mercy–we win. Period. If it turns out that in some way we were actually misguided, and our efforts were pointed in the wrong direction–even that does not disqualify us from participation in the victory of God. Our highest commitment is to his cause, not our understanding of our precise place in it. God will win. Mercy and truth will triumph. Justice will be secured. Guaranteed. There is no possibility of failure for those who give themselves to God.

Some of us are a bit clumsy. We make resolutions and break them. We make great plans and stumble in their execution. Instead of gnashing your teeth and berating yourself, laugh! And go at it again. God’s cause is moving on. It will sweep you into the kingdom. So you tripped-- So you got off track -- So, for awhile you were headed the wrong direction -- What else is new? Turn around. Get up and rejoin the movement of God.

God will use even your stumbles as occasions for demonstrating his goodness and for embarrassing the enemy.

So, in all circumstances, give thanks. Practice giving thanks daily. Evening and morning. Say grace at meals–both on formal occasions and those times when you use a peanut butter sandwich to stave off collapse.

Say thanks. Give thanks. Be joyful.

Why not?

A Community of Hope

When my children were born, I was amazed at their glory. The wonder of their fingers and eyes. I was dazzled by their smiles. I loved their sweet smell. As they became toddlers, I delighted in their confidence in my strength and abilities. Dad could fix anything.

Now, Bonnie instructs me in the fine details of managing our home computer and helps me with some on-line banking tricks. Garrett amazes me with his mechanical abilities and Shelley is ahead of me in math.

I will always be Dad. My children still flatter me by asking my opinion occasionally, but now, as adults, they are fully qualified partners in life.

This transformation of my children from sweet dependents to mature partners is the fulfillment of hope. I remember, even as I oohed and aahed over their infant perfection, already dreaming of what they would become. My delight in their childish glory was heightened by my anticipation of what they would become.

This parental hope is a reflection of God.

The Bible begins with a strong statement of God’s satisfaction with humanity as they came from his hand. At the end of the creation story, God declares, “It is very good.”

This declaration of satisfaction is coupled with an assignment: Be fruitful and multiply. Subdue the earth. Both of these commands are clear mandates for change. However satisfied God was with the earth as he birthed it, he wanted to it change, to grow.

That same hope applies to God’s relationship with everyone of us. God is pleased with you. The mere fact of your existence gives him delight. And God has great hopes for you. He wants you to grow, to increase, to learn, to build, to accomplish.

North Hill is a community of hope. We are pleased you are here. All of you. As you are. And we hope that your participation in our community will encourage you to grow. Our anticipation of growth and change comes to us naturally as participants in the kingdom of God.

In the book of Deuteronomy Moses says to Israel: “Do what is right and good so that it may go well with you . . .” Deut. 6:18

“If you pay attention to these laws and are careful to follow them, then the Lord your God will bless you and increase your numbers. He will bless the fruit of your womb, the crops of your land–your grain, new wine and oil–the calves of your herd, and the lambs of your flock. . . .The Lord will keep you free from every disease.” Deut. 7:12-14

God hoped his people would obey and as a result experience health, prosperity, happiness and longevity. Holiness would produce happiness.

The New Testament is even more dramatic. Jesus–the divine Son of God, the Savior of the World–says to those who become his students, “You will do what I have been doing. In fact, you will do even greater things than I’ve been doing because I am going to my Father.” John14:12. That is bold hope.

Finally, in the book of Revelation, Jesus declares, “To him who overcomes, I will grant to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne.” Revelation 3:21

That is amazingly bold hope.

When we look at newborns, we imagine them mastering the mysteries of numbers and words and notes and colors, becoming musicians, doctors, artists, mechanics, entrepreneurs, teachers, moms and dads. When God looks at newborns he imagines them sitting on the throne of heaven. That’s bold hope.

Let’s join God in his hope–for ourselves and others.

Meditation on Morning Coffee and Cookies

This morning, as is my custom, before I read anything or turned on the computer or spoke with any one, I enjoyed coffee–one cup, lots of milk, no sugar, extra hot–and two cookies. Made them myself.

The first sip melts its way down to my stomach radiating warmth through my entire core. Pause. Rehearse my morning mediation: “Grace and peace. . . . Grace . . . . . . . . and Peace.”

Then the first bite of cookie, dense with whole wheat flour and oatmeal, interrupted with the glorious flavor and texture of a chocolate chip. Chew. . . . Savor. . . . Rehearse . . . . Exhale.

Wait.

Another sip. Flavor on the tongue. Heat in my mouth. Warmth flowing into my gut. Rehearse.

My mind wanders: Life of God received. Heat. Liquid. Flavor. Texture. I give thanks. Savor. Wait. Enjoy.

Bite of cookie. Chew. Savor. Give thanks. Life of God received.

This single bite connects me with a web of thousands, all children of God. All animated by his life-giving spirit. Wheat farmers. Cocoa growers. Sailors. Train engineers. Hourly workers in the factory that made the combine that gathered the wheat. Bankers. Grocery story cashiers. The older sisters who watched their little brothers and sisters while mom and dad worked.

The lingering taste of chocolate connects me with them all and with the God of them all.

It takes half an hour to receive one cup and two cookies.

I finish. Life of God received. Thank you. Eucharist. Coffee and cookie. Communion.

I begin my day. My prayer: make me, too, an agent of divine warmth and holy sustenance.

Hands of Grace; No Fingerprints

Some years ago I gave a presentation at a young adult gathering on Sabbath afternoon. I stayed after my lecture to listen to a vespers sermon by Jon Dybdahl. At the end of his sermon, he talked about God’s power to heal. Then he invited anyone present who needed special healing to stand. A number of people stood, including a young man in the row in front of me.

Next Dr. Dybdahl asked those sitting near someone who had stood to stand also and place our hands on the people needing healing. I stood and put my hand on the shoulder of the young man in front of me. Dr. Dybdalh prayed, and we sat back down.

After the service was over, the young man came over to me. It was his first time hanging around Adventists. The friend who had brought him said I was a preacher. Could we get together and talk sometime that week.

“Sure,” I said and gave him my card.

When we sat down to talk on Wednesday he told me he had felt the power of God flow from my hand all through his body. He had been suffering from severe back pain. He was healed, immediately and completely.

I had felt nothing at all.

I don’t know what would have happened if when Dr. Dybdahl had prayed no one had been standing there with their hands on Mike’s shoulders. I do know Mike felt God’s power and my hands were involved. Apparently God did not need to inform me of what he was up to.

* * * * *

It’s something like that in church. North Hill Adventist Fellowship is an agency of God’s healing. People have experienced release from addictions. They have found solace. They have found new hope. The people of North Hill have been agents of heaven. Through your hands God has touched many with his grace.

You might think, “I’ve never been part of a miracle.” You may never have felt God’s power flow through you as others received healing. Still, even though you may have been completely unaware, you have, indeed, been agents of grace. How? Let me count the ways.

Right now we have fourteen people on our cleaning teams. How likely is it that anyone would hang around here long enough to encounter God if no one cleaned the toilets? If no one vacuumed the lobby, mopped the kitchen floor or emptied the garbage cans?

Every time you’ve pushed a vacuum, every time you’ve washed a window, every time you’ve given attention to some small detail of cleaning here in this building, you have participated in the work of God. You have been an indispensable part of the ministry of God.

A week or two ago a college student sent me a message saying he had appreciated a recent sermon. He lives at college. He hasn’t been here at North Hill for over a month. How did he hear the sermon? On line. Which means that if he got anything out of that sermon God’s power must have passed through the hands of Jeff Keating or Kirsten Dovich at the sound board. Then it passed through the hands of Randy Wiser who posts the sermons to the web.

That student probably did not notice Jeff’s, Kirsten’s or Randy’s finger prints, but they were there.

People occasionally show up here at church talking about the landscape. They have noticed the slow emergence here on this corner of the classiest, most attractive landscaping within many miles either way on Meridian Ave. These people don’t know Wayne. They have no idea of how much time he has invested here. And the hundreds of hours a few others have invested as well. They can’t see the fingerprints of the volunteers who planted and weeded. They do see the handiwork of God in the beauty of the landscaping.

I could tell similar stories about people affected by those of you who are here consistently, touching children with programs and smiles and affection.

Lives have been transformed because some of you have the skills and take the time to make wonderfully good food for our potluck dinners creating an atmosphere of welcome and ease.

Fact is, every part of God’s kingdom depends on invisible hands.

One of the greatest stories in the Old Testament is set up by the words of a young woman whose name is never given. The maid of Naaman’s wife suggests to her mistress that a prophet in Israel could cure Naaman’s leprosy.

Naaman was a VIP. Like Colin Powell or the Secretary of State or the Secretary of Defense. He was SOMEBODY. He goes to Israel for the cure. The prophet Elisha heals him. It is a fantastic story with lots of drama. Great characters–the kings of Israel and Syria, the prophet Elisha, Elisha’s servant Gehazi. The story ends with the conversion of Naaman to the worship of the God of heaven and the end of endless war between Syria and Israel.

It’s all set up by a nameless maid, doing her job, unnoticed, unheralded.

In the New Testament, the fantastic miracle of Jesus feeding 5000 people is set up by a kid with no name who hands over his lunch. I’m sure that kid could see nothing extraordinary about his five pieces of bread and two fish. Sure the food was going to taste good. He was not unhappy about his lunch. But he had no idea that his meager lunch held enough food for thousands to eat and be satisfied.

He just handed over his lunch. God fed the crowd.

Don’t spend too much time trying to spot God’s activity. Don’t be over-concerned how significant your labor is or how powerful your hands are. Just speak up for God when you get a chance. Hand over your lunch when it’s needed. Do what you can where you are. When you know it or not, you're acting as an agent of grace. Your hands are the conduits of miracles. God moves through you while you are busy doing what needs to be done.

So do it.

Saved by the Law

If your concern is being saved from hell, the law won't do you much good.

If your concern is to be saved from avoidable harm and futility here and now, "law" is just what you need.

I read an article not long ago in Forbes magazine that described the dramatic turn around in AIDS infection in that country. What has made the difference? A campaign to get people to change their behavior. Quit having sex outside marriage.

I saw an ad recently on the back page of a magazine. What happened to New Jersey teens when the state decided to delay issuing drivers licenses until they turned 18? A lot more of them arrived alive at 18 years of age.

I don't spend much time thinking about hell. I do spend a lot time thinking about how to help my people live well here and now. And "lawfulness," that is life ordered in harmony with sound principles turns out to be far more effective in saving them from disease, death, relationship failure and poverty than any amount of purely theoretical faith. Miracles sometimes happen. Law happens far more often.

(Sorry for absence of references for the Forbes article and the ad. I'm in a hurry to get out of town. If you want the references, leave a comment and I'll supply them next week when I return.)

Barnabas the Encourager

(This is a long blog--1200 words. So here is a synopsis: Barnabas, the encourager, was God’s indispensable agent in launching the ministry of Paul. Barnabas lived the grace Paul preached. If your calling is more that of “encourager” than “apostle” blessings on you. Your ministry is no less significant than that of those who are more flamboyant, forceful or famous. Keep encouraging.)

If you want the whole thing, here it is. Or you can check out the audio once we get it posted. See the links to the right.

Barnabas: My Model for Ministry

When a guy named Paul showed up in Jerusalem looking to spend some time with the followers of Jesus there, he needed help. The church would have nothing to do with him. For good reason. Sure, they had heard the stories of his conversion in Damascus. But the people in Jerusalem knew his other side better. It was their relatives and friends Paul had arrested and prosecuted. Their relatives and friends had been subjected to Paul’s enhanced interrogation techniques.

Paul was scary. He was forceful, brilliant, outspoken, domineering, and . . . well scary. If he wanted to believe in Jesus, that was all well and good. But it would be recklessly irresponsible to give him ready access to the social networks of the church. Who knew how long his “conversion” would last. Maybe his “conversion” was a mere ploy, a set up for more dramatic arrests and prosecutions.

Then Barnabas got involved.

Barnabas was rich. Devout. Cultured. Respected. When the early church ran low on cash, Barnabas saved the day (Acts 4:36).

So when Barnabas took Paul around to visit the apostles, the apostles listened. When Barnabas insisted Paul’s conversion was genuine, his opinion mattered. The church doors opened, at least a bit.

This was just Barnabas’ first act in setting up the ministry of Paul.

Some time later word reached Jerusalem that crowds of Gentiles were showing up at church to hear about Jesus. The apostles had already been confronted with the story of Cornelius, the Roman centurion, whose non-Jewish household had been demonstrably filled with the Holy Spirit before they were even baptized. Probably the apostles remembered the words of the Jesus about the gospel going to all nations. But what to do with crowds of Gentiles?

They turned to Barnabas. Would he go and check out the situation?

Barnabas heads off to Antioch. “When he arrived and saw the evidence of the grace of God, he was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the lord will all their hearts.” There is ample evidence that the early church included people with all sorts of personal, moral and spiritual problems. What did Barnabas see when he met with these new believers? “Evidence of the grace of God.”

When Barnabas arrived, he saw evidence of grace and encouraged them. Not a bad model for us. Maybe the reason Barnabas saw so much grace is that his own life was full of grace. Luke writes about Barnabas: “He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith.” One of the highest commendations given in the Bible.

While Barnabas was helping the believers in Antioch grow in their spiritual life he remembered Paul. Paul had dropped off the radar screen. Barnabas thought he should be involved in public ministry. So Barnabas traveled over a hundred miles to Tarsus, looking for Paul. When he finally found him, Barnabas insisted Paul come help in Antioch.

The two of them spent a year teaching and preaching in Antioch. They had such an impact the people in town began calling the believers “Christians, ” the first time that term was used.

Later that year, a prophet predicted a severe famine. In response to the prophecy, the church started an emergency fund for the believers back in Jerusalem. When they had enough money together, they asked Barnabas to deliver it to Jerusalem.

Who did Barnabas take with him? Paul.

The leaders may not have been impressed with Paul’s scholarship and preaching when Barnabas first introduced Paul. But they could not fail to be impressed if Paul showed up with a large donation. So Barnabas and Paul traveled to Jerusalem carrying the offering from the church in Antioch.

After delivering the aid, Barnabas and Paul returned to Antioch. There, while they were fasting and praying with three other church leaders, the Holy Spirit told the group to consecrate Barnabas and Paul for a special mission. They did so, and Barnabas and Paul took off on a missionary trip.

Paul was in his element. New people. New challenges. He was a fiery preacher. His first Sabbath in the town of Pisidian Antioch, Paul preached in the local synagogue. His sermon was so compelling that the next Sabbath nearly the entire city turned out to hear him preach. Whether or not you agreed with Paul, he was hard to ignore.

Paul was a riveting preacher, a compelling teacher. He had the gift of healing. He performed exorcisms. Paul was a terrific evangelist. He was a lousy pastor. He was skilled at preaching grace. He was lousy at practicing it.

On this missionary trip, Barnabas had invited his relative John Mark to come along. Mark dropped out part way through the trip. He couldn’t handle the pressure. When Barnabas and Paul got ready to go on their next trip, Barnabas wanted to give Mark another chance. Paul was adamant. No way! He’s a wimp, a wuss. I won’t have a quitter with me doing evangelism.

When Paul insisted he would not do mission work with John Mark, Barnabas said, “Fine. You don’t have to come.”

For all of Barnabas’ appreciation for Paul’s gifts and calling, Barnabas would not allow Paul to shut down another person whose gifts and weaknesses were different from his own.

Paul went on to the famous ministry we know about. He traveled widely, planting churches through his fiery preaching. He wrote letters that are still studied and quoted today. God clearly used Paul in a mighty way.

I think it is valuable to remember without Barnabas, we would have never heard of Paul. Barnabas could not have done Paul’s work. Paul could have never done his work without Barnabas.

God needs both fiery evangelists and sensitive pastors. Sensitive pastors make lousy evangelists (if you measure by counting). Fiery evangelists make lousy pastors (if you measure by sustainable church life). In the large scheme of things both are vital for the long term health of the church.

Barnabas’ story gives me courage in my work as a pastor. I’m a lousy evangelist (if you evaluate me by the numbers). But I’m pretty good at encouraging.

Congregations also have personalities or gift profiles. Some congregations are rigorous and strict in their teaching and church culture. Other congregations are known for their warmth and openness. Both kinds of congregations are needed to do the whole work of God.

North Hill is unabashedly committed to Barnabas as our model. We are more concerned with warmth and affection than we are with order and structure. We find our greatest joy and effectiveness in encouraging persons and ministries.

Those who use Paul as their “model” Christian are often critical of a Barnabas approach to pastoral work and congregational life. These critics are adamant that the church must ruthlessly proclaim the pure gospel and rid itself of any taint of uncertainty or impurity. I smile at the criticism. It sounds just like Paul talking. And the reason we know what Paul sounded like, the reason we have access to his words is because of a man named Barnabas.

Who knows, maybe our own Barnabas ministry will give birth to a new Paul, full of zeal and fire, impatient with our own patience with those who are less than perfect.

If Theology Can’t Fix my Car, Why Bother?

Friends of mine are deeply involved in advocating particular theories about the end of time. They preach, write books, publish newsletters. A couple of different times I’ve ask them, If I believed everything you are teaching, what would I do differently? What do you want me to change in the way I live? Their answer: Nothing.

So why should I listen to their sermons or read their books and blogs? One of the most important questions to be asked in theological conversation is So what? What difference does it make? If the answer is “Nothing!” then at minimum we don’t need to excommunicate each for our differences. I'll push it even further, if a person's theology does not have a vital connection to their everyday life, their theology is a mere religious curiosity not really worthy of the label "theology."

Valuable theology does make a difference in our lives. No, it won’t fix my car. It won’t cure Alzheimer’s or wash the dishes. But then that’s not what it is for. Watercolor painting won’t fix my car either, or cure Alzheimer’s or clean the dishes. Still we treasure good painting. And good theology is at least as valuable as good painting. In fact, theology is a lot like art. Theology is someone’s attempt to paint a picture of reality using words.

Theologians tell us what they see, and they hope that in their telling they will enable us to also see. The eyes of our mind see differently after reading a theological work.

It is important to recognize that theology is not reality, just as a painting of a tree is not a tree. No matter how elegant, attractive or “true” the painting is, the painting is not the tree. The Bible is not God. Calvin’s “Institutes” does not contain God. Ellen White’s Conflict of the Ages series does not contain God. These great works point toward God. They evoke in our minds an understanding and appreciation of God. They help us understand the implications of our God theories for the practice of life. But they are not themselves God.

So why do theology?

1. We humans can’t help ourselves. We are incurable theologians. Even Dawkins has to theorize about God–God doesn’t exist;–he can’t help positing a theory of ultimate reality. When we do theology we are doing what all human cultures everywhere at all times have done. We are expressing and revealing our humanity.

2. Theology has implications for how we order our lives. The respect I give those who disagree with me. The limits I impose on people who use their freedom in ways that damage others. My willingness to cooperate with others in community (preserving and limiting personal autonomy). My behavior in support of personal and community health. All of these things interact with my theology.

3. Theology is the art form most suitable for talking about purpose and meaning. Our lives are immeasurably enriched when they are supported by a lively sense of purpose and meaning. If we did away with formal theology, we would immediately replace it with something that functioned in similar manner in our lives–superstition, philosophy, a different theology.

4. Good theology is beautiful and helps us see beauty. Our hunger for this “divine” beauty has inspired the writing and collecting of books for three thousand years at least. The connection between theology and beauty is so strong it justifies our theologizing even though we know theology can be used in wicked ways. (Of course, we are far better served when we use theology to create beauty than when we use it to crack skulls.)

Theology, even the very finest theology, won’t fix my car. It might help me respond righteously if my mechanic fails or my car is irreparable. It points to meaning and purpose that transcend the entire world of cars and mechanics. No matter how precious my car, theology opens a universe beyond it that invites exploration and worship.