Mountain Lions, Earthworms and Religion: Why I am a Christian

Author's Note: The following article is a piece I wrote for my church's quarterly newsletter that goes out to 200,000 homes in Santa Clara County. Admittedly, most of those newsletters line parakeet cages or simply just go directly in people's big blue recycle bins. But a good number find their way into the hands of people who God is working on and who are interested in church. My prayer is that this column hits them. Let me know what you think, before it goes to press.



A while ago, my wife suggested one Saturday morning that we go for a walk at “The Dish” near Stanford University. You’ve probably seen it if you’ve ever driven north on 280. It’s this giant radio telescope, the kind that you might use to listen to aliens if you were in a Jodie Foster movie.

So I agreed, and we met up with a friend of hers, who we’ll call Donna, because that was her name. As we began to walk, Donna said she didn’t like walking around the Dish in twilight when there weren’t a lot of people.

“Why,” I asked.

“Because of the mountain lions,” she said.

Now, I don’t know about you, but when I’m engaging in exercise, I generally like to do it in places where the likelihood that I’m going to be attacked by a large predatory mammal is small. That’s why I like 24-Hour Fitness - very few carnivores nearby, waiting to eat me if I lag behind the pack. I suppose that would be a good incentive to train harder. I can see the tag-line now. Run Hard. Or the Wolves will Eat You.

But this is not the point of my story. The point of my story is something that Donna said on the walk. You see, at this point, my wife had recently decided to become a Christian, and she was talking to her friend Donna about this. Donna said that she was a bit skeptical of organized religion.

“All major world religions pretty much say the same thing,” Donna said. “Be nice. Help other people out. Be a good person.”

This is a line I hear a lot from a lot of different people. I think people say it because it sounds nice. It’s non-confrontational. But I think it’s like saying that you and I are the same person.

Here’s what I mean. I read an article the other day about the human genome project that mapped out the entire genetic structure of humans. Do you know that every single human on the planet is more than 99 percent identical? Almost 100 percent of the genetic information in your body is the same as it is in mine. Almost identical. In fact, I also read that humans are 75 percent similar genetically to earthworms. 75 percent.

But I think that you and I would both agree that the last 25 percent is pretty significant. And in the case of two people, that last percent – that last bit – is also pretty huge. I tried calling the bank and convincing them that Matt Damon and I were essentially the same person, but they didn’t go for it.

It’s true – world religions are similar. And there are huge common lines that connect them. But I’m going to submit that that last bit – the theology or philosophy where they differ - is crucial. And I think what sets religions apart from one another is their perspectives on what God is really like. His character. Or if God even has a character.

For example, we have seen throughout history, in our own nation, and across the world the ugliness that can result when a person believes that God likes them, but hates certain other people. I read about this one young man who strapped explosives wrapped in nails and shards of metal around his body, and then walked into a crowded Bazaar in Egypt and detonated it. People do this. Because of what they believe God wants. Because of what they believe God is really like.

That’s a big reason why I’m a follower of Jesus. Jesus says over and over again that God is his Father. And Jesus’ portrait of the character of God is so deep and compelling, that I am drawn to it more and more every day. If you get a chance, read Luke 15 sometime. It’s a speech by Jesus in which he’s trying to capture the essence of what God feels toward people – toward us. Jesus starts with a comparison, saying God is like a shepherd who lost a sheep and then rejoices when he finally finds it. And then Jesus is like, “No, no, that doesn’t do my Father justice.” So he switches to another comparison about a woman who lost some money she really, really needed. And she finds it and hollers at all her neighbors, waking them up because she’s so excited. And then Jesus is like, “No, no, that’s not quite right either.” And then Jesus settles on his final comparison. God is like a Father whose wayward son left, got messed up in the wrong crowd and then realized that he had to go back home and try to beg his way back into the household. And Jesus says that when the Father saw his lost son, He ran down the road to embrace his son, who had finally come home. This is what God is like, Jesus says.

There are lots of religions and lots of different views about God. But the God that Jesus talked about is the one that captures my heart. And I think that kind of God is the kind worth trying to learn more about. Jesus was convinced that if someone really got to know his Father, that they would be entirely changed.

I think he’s right. But it doesn’t matter what I think. Because I’m not you.

So what do you think?

Would Jesus Head-Butt Someone for a Racial and Religious Slur?

Are you like me? Were you watching the final game of the World Cup in complete amazement when Zinedine Zidane seemed to completely lose his mind midway through the second overtime? Did you see this?

The French captain, and arguably the best player in the game of soccer, turned around, walked up to Italian player Marco Materazzi and jut slammed his shaved-head into the solar plexus of the defender. Materazzi crumbled to the pitch like a jenga tower during the '89 Loma Prieta. Zidane got a red card. Italy beat France in penalty kicks.

This was astounding for several reasons.

1. I'm watching soccer.
2. I'm excited about watching soccer.
3. Zidane would go on to win the "Golden Ball", a recognition for the best player in the tournament
4. France coach Raymond Domenech said on record that Zidane's moment of madness cost Les Bleus the World Cup.

So why did one of the most distinguished and decorated and venerated and venerable players in soccer lose his mind? I don't know. But I watched a lot of replays, and there was a lot of shoving and pushing by both teams. But that probably wasn't the proverbial straw. There was also a lot of stress on both teams - this was the World Cup Final, after all. But Zidane had been there before, and won it. So I don't know if that was the only reason, either.

In replays, Zidane gets tangled up a bit with Materazzi, and then jobs away. Materazzi is seen to say something. Zidane turns around. Materazzi says something again. And that's when Zidane goes nuts.

So what did Materazzi say?

Apparently, according to ESPN, Materazzi called Zidane - who is the son of immigrants from the North African nation of Algeria - a "dirty terrorist." You can read the story here

You don't have to know much history to know that the tensions in France about immigrants from North Africa go beyond simple cultural lines (especially in regard to Algeria). There is a real religious and ethnic fear and distrust in France - and in Europe - about Muslims from North Africa.

So Materazzi's comments were not only religious in nature, but political and racial. A veritable hat-trick for the Italian - if it's true, that is.

But let's pretend for a second that the comment was said. Is Zidane's reaction good? If he were your son, what would you have had him do?

I remember when Indiana Pacer Ron Artest went into the stands and beat the living crap out of a fan for yelling racial slurs at him. Everyone was shocked and appalled. I don't know why. Let's say you're walking down the street and this super-athletic, 6'7" muscled black man walks by. Let's say you start yelling racial slurs at that guy. What's going to happen? You're going to get your ass kicked. As my friend Jon Fortt said shortly after the incident, "Why should it be different in a sports arena?"

I think there is a large volume of people in the world who might say that if someone has the gall to make such comments, they should have their ribs broken. Preferably by a head butt by the world's best player in soccer.

And if it is true that Zidane cost his team and his country the world cup defending his family heritage, his country of origin and his ethnicity and religion and race? Well - he might say - some things are more important than soccer...and some things are definately worth a head butt to the chest.

Of course, I'm not sure how this whole "reaction of vengeance" fits with the command of Jesus to "turn the other cheek." What are the spiritual implications of reacting like Zidane? What are the implications of not doing anything? In the words of Crotian theologian Miroslav Volf, "Rage belongs before God. It is the only safe place for it."

So what are your thoughts about this final image of Zidane?

Serious Business...

I haven’t written anything funny lately. I don’t know why that is. I think it’s partially because I’m now in a serious stage of life, with serious issues pressing on me every day. I have a 16-month old son, and this is serious business. You wouldn’t know this by the conversations that my wife and I have now-a-days, which often involve our son. We sound like idiots. I think it’s because when you have kids, your vocabulary shrinks faster than Rick Moranis’ ill-fated children.

I say this because I notice that Nicole and I tend to use the same words over and over again. Those words include: Funny, Poopy, Sleepy, Messy, Icky and Don’t Put that In Your Mouth. It sounds like we’re listings rejects from Snow White’s dwarves.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this, necessarily. There’s just not as much room to use big words. For example, when we first moved into this house, before Justus was born, we installed new doors with lovely nickel-plated French door handles which were simple, yet elegant. We applauded ourselves for our sheik sense of fashion and design. We did not know this at the time, but these door handles are shockingly easy for young children to learn how to operate. So unless we lock the door, Justus can go anywhere in the house, which defeats the purpose of shutting doors. There should have been a warning on the back of the packaging. “Warning: Not for use in a house with Toddlers or Velociraptors.”

So Justus will often barge into rooms. Sometimes, at unfortunate moments. So, when you’re running on 6 hours of sleep, you don’t have the mental energy to say, “I would like to use the restroom unencumbered by precipitous interruptions to my privacy, please.”

You say, “Can I pee in peace, for ONCE. Is that too much to ask? Is it?” Sometimes you yell this down the hall, while your husband is doing dishes in the kitchen. Even though it clearly wasn’t his fault. He is not the one who gets his pampers in a bunch whenever he sees a closed door, okay?

This is just a hypothetical example.

Justus is also starting to learn evil. His mother and I will tell him to do something very elemental like, say, don’t throw your food on the floor. We will meticulously explain that daddy just spent two hours on his hands and knees with hardwood floor cleaner and a thick roll of paper towels cleaning up the residue from your meals and that you would be surprised how difficult peas and dried mango mush is to remove from wood laminate. He will understand this. He will nod his understanding. And yet, he will look us right in the eyes and drop food on the floor in willful defiance.

I don’t know where he picked this stuff up. I would blame it on his environment, but since he spends most of his time at home, that would implicate me, and I’m uncomfortable with that line of reasoning. So I’m going to blame his mother. I’m going to tell her that as soon as she unlocks the bathroom door and comes out.

Barak Obama (D -Illinois) talks about religion and politics

This is an excellant and thought-provoking speech from Democratic Senator Barack Obama about the role of religion in politics and in the United States. It's worth a read, especially if you are one of the growing number of committed Christians who are torn because one of the following reasons:

• The Republicans speak the language of faith, but seem to miss really key issues that I believe God really cares about, like issues of social justice, the environment and education.

• The Democrats care about some of the issues I care about, and talk about them well, but I can't identify with the candidates because they don't seem to understand people of faith, or religion, or the role that God plays in my life.

• I am tired of the hypocrisy of Republicans saying they are the party of "Christians" when all they seem to be doing is attempting to hijack Christianity for political gain.

• I get heebie-jeebies when I hear Democrats speak about people of faith as though religion has no place in public discourse and is something dangerous for America.

• I worry about the morality of the United States, and I think Christians hold the answers, but I don't think that the solutions offered by the Republicans would work, and the Democrats don't seem to even seem to see the problems.

• The primary spokespeople for Christianity don't ever seem to say things like I would say them, or how I believe Jesus would say them.

If that's you, then this is worth a read. Here is his speech.