Swaziland (part 2).

(This is part 2 of this post.  I split it up because long blog posts are annoying.  And I hate being annoying.)

It's funny how forgetful we are.  I came back on a Wednesday.  The next day, new students arrived at work.  And I've been going ever since.  The few conclusions I made have been buried by two months of doing, creating, teaching, leading.  After chewing on his questions these last couple of weeks, I remembered.

The Swazi people believe in prayer.  Like, really believe it.  If they pray something, they know it's going to happen.  Period.  Full stop.

Most of our days were spent doing home visits.  We'd go to the homesteads of families in the church (and several neighbors), bring some gifts of food and hygiene items, share some scripture and pray with them.  It was awkward.  Swazis are difficult to read, so half the time, it felt like we were being invasive and rude.  Pastor Maziya had to continually comfort us that people were happy and appreciated our presence.

Anyway.  On one home visit, we talked to guy that explained his faith in prayer.  He said that he rarely knew where his next meal was coming from.  He was incredibly poor.  No family to take care of him.  No job prospects.  No good land.  And yet, he had never gone hungry.  He had never gone a day without some kind of food.  When he would pray, God would answer that prayer.

Boom.  Do I have that faith?

Perhaps a more telling story of this was on our very first home visit.  His name is Sofiso.  He was a deacon and leader in the church and lived on his homestead with his mother and sister.  When we visited with him, we shared some verse and talked about life for about 30 or 40 minutes.  He and his mother worked at the hospital in town.  In fact, his  mother should be coming home from work any minute and we could meet her, too.  We decided to stick around a while longer.

She was probably 20 minutes late when we decided we should probably move on.  So we asked Sofiso what we could pray for with him.  He said that his brother was very sick.  He was in the hospital where his family worked, but they had been faithfully praying for him and he was getting better.  In fact, they were hoping he would come home some time that week, so we could come back and meet him, too.  We prayed something fierce for him.  These people see enough death.  God would heal this man.

As we walked down the driveway, Sofiso got a call.  It was his mother.  His brother had just died.

Literally as we were praying for this man's recovery, God was taking him home.  Down to the minute.

Sofiso didn't cry.  Swazis don't.  Our team did.

Later that week, we were blessed to be able to provide most of the funeral costs.  It was too close to our hearts for us not to be able to help in some way.

But just think about Sofiso's faith.  Maybe the severity of his brother's condition wasn't communicated to us.  Maybe he took a sudden turn on that day.  Either way, Sofiso, just minutes before, was laughing and smiling and confidently trusting that God would heal him.  Despite numerous prayers for healing and provision not being answered in the past, he believed and trusted that God would heal his brother. 

When do I have that faith?  When, if I pray something, do I believe it's going to happen?  And when, after I've prayed something and the exact opposite happens, have I continued praying and praising God for his goodness?

If that man from my church asked me again today, I would tell him this story.  This faith, that I've so quickly forgotten, challenges me to trust my God.  I want that faith, darn it.  I want to, despite numerous disappointments before, still believe that God will answer my prayers when I ask something in his name and with his heart.  My hope is to not forget that faith as I have for the past several weeks, but to have that kind of faith.

Swaziland (part 1).

Last week, after church, one of our members took me aside and asked me, "Tell me about Swaziland.  Tell me about your experience."  I guess it's really more of a demand than a question.

So I told him some of the generic stuff.  Stuff I've told so many people about the trip (though I realize I've never written about it on here).  It was great to see believers around the world.  It was an awesome opportunity to explore possibilities of a ministry partnership across the globe.

The slightly longer version is that I'm not sure how Swaziland was.  As most of you know (maybe?), I went primarily as documentarian.  My job was to capture the story of our team's experience and to tell of God's faithfulness.  It was to capture the story of the Swazis.  What is God doing there?  Who are these people?  How do they follow him?  How can we be blessed by them as we have blessed them (We sent several thousand dollars of funds ahead of us)?

To develop a functional ministry partnership, our people needed to know their people.  I took a camera, a decent mic, and my laptop to log and edit footage in country.  The whole trip, my mind was consumed with questions: What's the story here? How can I tell that story best?  How will it cut with other footage?  What's the best framing?  How's the lighting?  Is the audio coming in clearly?  Am I holding the mic so that the cables aren't making noise?  What questions can I ask to get deeper into this story, this emotion?  What's my battery life?  How much time do I have left on my card?  How likely am I to need the battery and the card space later?

I tell people that it was pretty lonely.  Not in the "Wah, I miss home.  I wish I had a girlfriend." kind of lonely, but I constantly felt like I was holding a council of one.  Every artistic decision, every technical difficulty, every question I asked was my idea and I decided if it was good or bad.  No one to help with sound or to interview while I worry about tech.  I've told most people that I'm never doing video on a missions trip again unless I have at least one more person to help.

At no point did I feel like what I was doing was not ministry.  I was keenly aware of video's power to do ministry to peoples' hearts while shooting every day.  Video has the amazing power to stir peoples' hearts in such a way that they experience, in some small measure, what our team experienced while we were there.  With a good video, they will love the people as much as we did.

Really, my ministry was not to the Swazis.  It was to Impact, my home church.

I can't wait to share the fruits of that work, but it made for a pretty unemotional trip to Africa at times.  (There are plenty of emotional stories, too.  Maybe another time...)

But this guy at church wasn't content with that answer.  He kept pressing.  In retrospect, I'm really glad.  Very few others have.

He said, "Traveling overseas, serving others, going on missions trips... it changes you.  How did God change you?  What was not the same about you when you came back?"  I kept trying to BS some answer, but he kept rephrasing, kept asking, kept pushing.

(There's much more to tell, but I hate long blog posts.  I'll continue this next posting.)

What's in the way?

The second biggest question when developing characters (at least when I learned screenwriting basics) is “What is in the way?”  Desires are not worth a whole lot if we don’t have anything stopping us from getting them, right?  I mean, they wouldn’t even be desires, would they?  They’d just be…  I have this thing.

Anyway.  I think obstacles are the very stuff of story.  Without them, stories wouldn’t exist.  It would just be Once upon a time, a prince went off in search of a princess.  Then he found her and they lived happily ever after.  There’s nothing of interest there.  Nothing moving.  Nothing inspiring.

Take Twilight, for example.  I have never read the books, but I saw the movie last week.  One of the central problems in the first two acts of the film is the lack of obstacles.  There is no clear obstacle keeping the lovers apart.  And that’s what makes a love story interesting!  It’s the Montagues and Capulets fighting.  It’s the clear stubbornness that “I’m fine on my own!”  It’s the curse that keeps her a hawk in the day and him a wolf in the night.  Twilight didn’t interest me until the third act, when all of a sudden, there was a real desire (keep dad safe) and obstacles in the path (evil vampires with a wicked sense of smell).

Oftentimes, in story, we find that there are actually two major obstacles in the way of the hero getting their desire.  The first is easy.  It’s the external obstacle.  In Star Wars, it’s the empire as symbolized by Darth Vader.  In Final Fantasy VII, it’s Sephiroth summoning Meteor.  In the excellent silent film, City Lights, it’s the Tramp’s poverty.  These are clear, physical obstacles preventing the heroes from getting what they want and, no doubt about it, they must be overcome.  But in the best stories, there is also a second obstacle: the internal. 

It’s a common trope that all characters need some kind of flaw, right?  But this flaw is usually so significant, it is this internal obstacle, not the external, that truly prevents the hero from getting what he or she wants.  In film school, one of the great questions we asked was, “How does who the character is get in the way of what the character wants?”  One of my favorite films (known and beloved by all for its artistic merit) is Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.  It satirizes so many things I hold dear, but it makes this distinction very, very clear. 

SPOILER ALERT.  (As if my whole blog doesn’t spoil all kinds of stuff…) (Also, go see this movie.)  (Now.)

At the climax, Scott goes to confront Gideon, the leader of the League of Evil Exes.  On the surface, the obstacle standing in the way of Scott reuniting with Ramona is Gideon.  He’s evil.  He has a cool sword.  And ninjas.  But Scott, ultimately, cannot defeat him.  One trippy dream sequence and one whispered, “I think I learned something” later and Scott has had his big transformation.  As he all but says out loud later, his biggest obstacle is that he has only found his value in girls rather than finding intrinsic value in himself.  Armed with this newfound “Power of Self-Respect”, Scott can defeat Gideon once and for all and reclaim the lady that he loves.  This time, though, he has a real chance of keeping her, since he’s not expecting her to be his sole affirmation of existence.  (If that sounds cheesy, just go see the movie.  It’s totally not.  Or it is.  Either way, it’s on purpose and awesome.)

Other stories do this much more subtly.  In many romantic comedies, it’s the moment that the guy realizes that his real enemy isn’t her parents/her friends/a long distance/whatever else.  Really, he just needs to settle down and commit to this wonderful woman, despite her flaws.  In the Lord of the Rings movies, it’s when Aragorn finally grows a pair and leads his kingdom.  In Casablanca, it’s when Rick calls in a favor with Renault to send Elsa away with her husband.  All of these moments – and simultaneous actions – are caused by these characters overcoming their fatal flaws and interior obstacles.

The interesting thing is that none of these characters would have overcome – or even been aware of – their internal obstacles and flaws if it had not been for the external flaws.  Without Sauron rising to power, Aragorn would have never questioned his decision to run away from the throne.  Without the drama in the romcom, the Guy would not have proposed.  Without the Nazis and Elsa’s husband, Rick never would have called in that favor and grown to be a freedom fighter again.

Ultimately, it is this battle that inspires us more than anything when we interact with stories.  Sure, watching the Empire go down is fun.  But we want to see the hero go from self-serving to self-sacrificing.  At the end of the day, that’s what makes us want to live our lives better.

I feel like I don’t have to do a lot of work to connect these story concepts to real life.  If we really want something as badly as I talked about yesterday, we will encounter resistance.  Obstacles will present themselves.  Maybe it’s funding.  Maybe it’s workplace politics and a stubborn superior.  Maybe it’s straight up evil men.  Either way, we will have external obstacles and I think it’s important to name them.  Naming an obstacle for what it is is the first step toward making a plan to overcome it.

Internal obstacles are a bit trickier.  Most characters spend the story finally discovering their real flaw.  They are usually ignorant at the beginning.  We, however, are often acutely aware of our flaws.  (I know I am.)  I do think – and this is getting a lot more speculative – that if we are aware of our flaws, then they become more like external obstacles.  We know what the issue is and we can make a plan to overcome it. 

Just like story characters, though, we have numerous hidden flaws.  There will always be blind spots in our understanding of ourselves.  I often find that, as I pursue what I want, I discover that the real blind spot – the real inner flaw – is a theological issue.  I don’t trust God.  I don’t trust that he’s good.  I don’t fully believe that he forgives me or empowers me or loves me.  For you, maybe it’s something else.  Maybe a secret arrogance or a hidden jealousy.  No matter what it is, the only way we’ll actually discover it is to pursue something.  We should keep on wanting something enough to risk until we are confronted by a facet about ourselves that we never knew. 

(Side note: this is why having important friendships is incredibly important.  They can tell us, often before we know ourselves, what that flaw is.  Maybe if we listen, we can avert the tragedies…)

So perhaps we should reframe how we look at the obstacles in our path.  It is they, not some inner discipline and force, that helps make the story worth the telling.  Obstacles show characters (and us) who they really are and what the real problem is.  It is the obstacles in life that God uses the most in shaping our character (this time I mean the inner person, not a story-person).  Through adversity, we grow and are shaped. 

What’s in your way?  What prevents you from getting what you want, both externally and internally?  How can you develop a plan to fight the external obstacles while remaining attentive to the internal? 

Character.

I love story. 

I remember my first encounter with the study of story structure.  It was Drama 1 class in 9th grade with Jonathon Dunski.  (By no small coincidence, also the class I was in when the towers went down in 2001…).  We talked about three act structure, exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and the frequently missed denouement.  I was fascinated.  I started filtering everything I watched and played by that structure.

In Acting 1 class a few years later, we learned more about character development.  MOOSASSO, I think was the acronym.  Motivation, Objective, Obstacles, Strategy, Action, something…  something else… and outcome.  All things that every character should have in every scene.  It was the first time that I, as an actor, starting thinking in a more analytic way about character development.

It was unsurprising that when I changed my major to film in college, I focused on storytelling and structure.  I read lots of books (with many more to go).  I analyzed movies, TV shows, raw screenplays, and the video games that I played.  My understanding of story deepened and I grew to appreciate it more and more.  Robert McKee’s Story is a love letter to the screenplay and stories in general.  The Writer’s Journey, though not my favorite tool, is still an inspiring look at the deeper goings-on in the stories that we interact with every day.

Over the last several years, my life has been dominated by stories and storytelling.  The more I learn, the more determined I am to tell a good story with my life.  I don’t think that God has created us to sit idly by, wishing more exciting things were happening to us.  My church often quotes John 10:10, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”  A full life is not one where we never risk anything.  A full life, I think, should leave us full of stories to tell.  Stories about God’s goodness and provision.  Stories of desperate circumstances and terrible choices.  Stories that reflect the magnificent gift of life that God has given us.

The stories that inspire us the most have great characters driving them.  For the next couple of days, I want to address a couple of thoughts that I’ve had in the last few years about being that great character.  What makes a good character in a story?  How can we reverse engineer a storied life from that? 

Chew on this.

I've been reading Leviticus lately. It's a fun book... And by fun, I mean somewhat difficult to get through. It's a lot more interesting when you consider the historical context of the book, but still, it's hard to read about wave offerings when that has little to do with the lives we lead now.

One verse caught my attention, though. Leviticus 19:9-10:

When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the alien. I am the LORD your God.

What does this mean in a modern context? For the ancient Jews, it was meant to provide a small amount of sustenance for the poor. By leaving the edges of the field unreaped and not being too thorough in harvesting, those with no fields would still be able to harvest. But what about us?

My sister does strange things. This shouldn't surprise people who know her. When she gets change after buying something at a store, she goes out in the parking lot and drops it. Sometimes all at once, sometimes one coin at a time. She figures that finding a penny cheers her up, so why not cheer others up? Is this a modern day application of this verse?

Or does it suggest that followers of the Lord should not always seek efficiency. Surely planting crops and then purposefully not harvesting them is inefficient. Maybe it means that we should even financially invest in ventures that we know will not yield a financial return (or, at least, not shy away from doing so).

I've been reading a book for our mission trip to Memphis called Theirs Is the Kingdom. (You should read this book.) It's written by a man who has been a missionary to inner city Atlanta for 15+ years. Our investment could produce jobs for those who don't have them and countless opportunities to share the message of Christ.

I can't really claim to know how to apply this these verses to our lives, but it's worth considering. What does this verse say about our God and the way we are to interact with the fruits of our labors?

Words Seldom Said, Ep. 1.

I was thinking the other day about words in Christianity that are super important but rarely talked about - especially in churches. For instance,

• Covenant - The entirety of the Old Testament is grounded in the idea that our God is a covenant keeping God. He chose Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as his people, making covenants with them to secure their relationship. It is his covenant that kept him from completely wiping out Israel many times. It is his covenant that eventually provided for the coming of Jesus to bring his people to him permanently.
  

• Context - One of the first words I learned in my Bible classes was context. Without an understanding of the historical and literary context of scripture, we'll never be able to responsibly interpret it.

That's all I had when I originally wrote this a few weeks ago. As I think of more, I'll post them.

Anyone have any others?

TheKempest.

I've written about my name before, but I was thinking about it some more tonight (as I was laying in bed, unable to sleep. Again.).

It all started last week when I (finally) got my Xbox 360 hooked up to Xbox Live, their internet service. On the console, you can choose a Gamertag. I chose TheKemp. The idea is that you then connect to Xbox Live and you can use the same name. Of course, when I chose TheKemp, I thought, "No one else in the world is named Kemp. There's no way this one will be taken."

It was.

Microsoft would not let me be "TheKemp" because there already was a "TheKemp" out there somewhere.

So I had to one up this "TheKemp." I would not allow him (or her. Who knows?) to take my name! My new Gamertag? TheKempest. I am much more Kemp than any other Kemp in the world. (Unfortunately, it looks like I'm trying to wordplay both my name and "tempest" like some middle schooler who acts like he's really good at Halo but really is quite mediocre.)

Which got me thinking: what does that mean? What does it mean to be more Kemp than anyone else in the world? Do I associate certain qualities as being Kemp and certain qualities as being unKemp (or unkempt. ha.)?

I know that my name does mean a lot to me. I'm glad that I can't easily find any other person on Facebook with the name of Kemp. I'm glad that when I meet people, I am the only way they can define the word. They have never known a Kemp before me and chances are that they will never know a Kemp after me. My self will never be separated from the word "Kemp" by other Kemps out there as the expecations of Michaels and Johns are.

(Side notes: I just wrote my name more than I ever have in my life. What a weird name! An M and a P right next to each other? Who decided to name their child that? What the heck...)

All this slightly disassociated narcissistic talk to come down to this point: God has a name. In Exodus 3, Moses is sent on a mission by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses falters several times in the conversation, but eventually asks, "Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them?"

In the religions of the ancient near east, knowing a name gave you power over that person or force. Knowing my name gives you some power over me even still. At work, I freak out all the time when people pick my name off my name tag. I am immediately more friendly (mostly because I'm not sure if I really do know them or not). When people shout your name from across a crowded room, no matter how likely it is that there are others that share your name, you turn in that direction. Moses is sort of asking for that kind of power, only much more intense.

And the Creator of the Universe, Elohim, responds: "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"

God's name is I Am. His very name speaks of existence. Pure, unadulterated, independent, noncontingent existence.

There is none of Descartes' famous, "I think..." before it. He just is.

Two thoughts out of this (both more or less half baked):
1. When we say "I am," are we using the Lord's name in vain? Are we willing ourselves into existence, as if that were possible? Are we, through the very nature of our own language, calling God from across the room every time we say something about ourselves? Does God turn his head attentively only to find out we were talking to the other "I Am" in the room? (P.S. There is no other I Am.)

2. (This one's even less baked...) Does our existence cry the name of God? If he is existence and being, then we, through our contingent being constantly call attention back to the one without whom we would not exist. Through this (obnoxiously deep, convoluted, and) philosophical lens, it makes sense that the purpose of human life is to glorify God. We are, after all, merely borrowing from his existence...

3. (I know I said two, but then I reread the top and this point has to be made at least a little...) What attributes are distinctly God's? As I was reflecting on what made me the "Kempest" of all the Kemps, what makes I AM the most I AMest of all the I ams?

This question is, of course, answereable (at least a little) through a good theology book, but it does merit more thought.

Later.

P.S. Fun idea to try with your friends! Take the ideas from my reflection on my name earlier in this entry and think about how God feels in the same situation. Good times.

Why I'm not all about player agency.

I have a problem.

I want to be a video game designer, but I don't always agree with how the industry and culture is moving, behaving, and expecting, especially when it comes to story and narrative design.

You see, 0ne of the fancy shmancy terms tossed around by game designers from time to time is "player agency." It is the idea that the player is in control of the story. Games like Oblivion or Grand Theft Auto put quite a lot of agency into the hands of the player - their stories are mostly optional, discovered through what missions the player chooses and how they complete them. These games take pride in the agency of the player - the ability for the player to determine the course of the story. These games stand in stark contrast to many role playing games like the Final Fantasy series, where the story unfolds in a linear fashion and the player makes limited decisions that don't really affect the outcome of the characters' actions.

Popular opinion in the video game industry is to put more and more power in the hands of the players - let them make their own stories. In this camp, the role of the designer is to create an interesting world and starting conditions for the player's own creative expression. The player is free to participate in the telling of the story by telling it how they want it told. They determine protagonist, antagonist, conflict, desire, obstacle - everything. Through this, players can compare notes (stories) revolving around the question, "What did you do?" or "How did you get past that boss?"

But are players ever going to really interact with the game in a meaningful way? Will they be changed by the stories they tell in the same way that an audience is changed in other media?

I don't think so. I tend to think that players, when left to their own devices, are highly unlikely to tell a story of nuance, meaning, and thematic significance, no matter the tools they are given.

So why the obsession with player agency? Why do we buck so much the hand of a good designer/storyteller?

More personally, why am I so comfortable with it? My favorite games are ones in which I am a participant in a larger story - games where I assume the role of a character, rather than creating one myself. These games, through their gameplay (to a small extent) and their story, create meaning, thought, and, ultimately, change in how I view the world. (Drop everything you're doing and play Final Fantasy Tactics all the way through - you'll understand what I mean.)

Perhaps it all comes down to theology.

I think a large part of my struggle is that I have little problem trusting someone else to tell my story. I submit myself daily to the story that God is telling, to following his son with my life, and to the wonderful power of his themes and signficance. I have no problem believing that someone behind the scenes knows more than I do and has something to teach me.

Maybe running to player agency is really just a small part of the rebellion coming out in a new way - people trying to control their own lives and tell their own stories, and meaning nothing in the process.

Now before anyone reads this and gets all upitty about some judgmental Christian banter and blah-blah-blah, I'm not writing this to condemn the idea of player agency or to suggest that those who hold to that narrative theory are rebels, sinners, and godless fools. Rather, I write it to defend my own instinct toward authorial control.

If video games can be (and are) a powerful and somewhat accurate metaphor for life, then just as I believe there is a Designer of the world who arranges things for meaning and purpose for our good, so too I believe a human designer can inject some of that meaning and purpose for the good of his characters and players. Just as we as humans find life most fulfilling while following Jesus, I think it can be apt that players will find a well designed game most fulfilling when they follow the plan (or story or whatever) of the designer.

As with so many of my ideas, I'm not sure if everything came through effectively, so I'll summarize as simply as I can: If life has a designer who has a plan that we should follow, why shouldn't video games?

(Inspiration for this post brought to you by The Brainy Gamer. Read the comments and follow links. There's good times in there.)

What if it's true?

Here's something else I've been thinking about yesterday and today. What if it's true?

What if what we believe is true? Jesus really was God in the flesh. We really are alienated from God because of sin. Jesus' death changed our broken state, but we are still being changed. The Devil really exists. We're supposed to sacrifice for our wives and wives are to submit to their husbands (Oo..... controversy...). The meek will inherit the earth. Brother will be divided from brother.

Sometimes I believe things intellectually, but forget that it's really true. That it really does change the way I see the world and how I act in it.

God is really heavy.

So I'm reading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. It's been on my reading list for a full year and I've finally gotten to it. It's like Rob Bell's basic theology book.

Here's a thought that's getting to me.

In Movement (chapter) 3, he talks a bit about missions. So often, when we talk about missions, we say that we are "bringing Jesus to" China or Africa or Chicago or the film industry.

But Bell reminds his readers that God is, in fact, everywhere. There is no place that he is not present. It is the awareness of his presence that changes from place to place and person to person.

The duty of the missionary then, is not to force Jesus onto a people, but to show them where he is already active and moving. What are the true things that are happening in the place? Are people laughing? Are there crops growing? Is there, in a word, goodness? If so, then God is there. He must merely be seen more clearly. He must be named. Just as Paul does at the Areopagus (a way cooler name than Mars Hill, in my opinion...), we can point to things already around us (like poets, philosophers, prophets) and say that they have it somewhat right. But there is a higher reality. It all comes from the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob - the God who revealed himself through Jesus the Messiah and the Bible.

So, Bell suggests, a missionary is perhaps better called a tour guide - one who can see God in the everyday. Someone who can see the Lord working in the most unlikely places.

In my own life, I am finally at a place where I am not surrounded by Christians - my job. It's not as hostile of an environment as I expect in the game industry, but I do not see people coming to work with their Bibles... How do I show them Jesus? How do I make disciples?

The suggestion that our job as "missionaries" (or evangelists or Jesus-networkers [I just made that one up]) is merely to see God already at work, point to it, and call it out appeals to me.

But it is a challenge. A change in how I look at the world. Sadly, even as a believer, I don't have the eyes to see God's movement in any but the most obvious and powerful places.

But Rob Bell might be right. If we see ourselves carrying God from one place (Cornerstone/my life/my church) to another (my job/my career/the streets/the bar down the road), we will undoubtably get exhausted.

God is really heavy.

A bit of Theology.

So In small group last night we had a chat about how we know truth, what is subjectivity, and other such things. We talked about how we can see God and understand truth as humans. Caleb Hugo tossed out the parable of the blind men and the elephant (see the article) and Rob sent out a response today in the form of a link here. I figured I'd post my essay length response here, just for the hecks of it.

I definitely agree with the idea that this parable cannot apply to multiple religions (as a peer of mine asserted in middle school). However, my view is that there are aspects of God which we cannot know for certain 100% of the time, for example, Calvinism and Armenism (sp?). Each side has very strong scriptural and philosophical support and when asked which camp is right, I reply both.

Our God is a god filled with paradoxes to human understanding. There are many things about him that we can understand, but there are also many things that we cannot understand. There are times when it is apparent that the Kingdom is here, that the world is getting better as redemption is spreading. Other times, the world just seems to be getting worse and worse until Christ’s return. Yet somehow, it is both of these.

It is exactly because we don’t know all the hows and whys of God that I think we must approach many conversations with humility, especially with other believers. We can never assume we know everything about our God.

Now, when having conversations with non-believers, this parable holds false. Our God has revealed himself pretty clearly and we can be confident of our knowledge of the truth. However, I find that this confidence can easily lead to blind ignorance and close-mindedness toward others. It can make us hostile to the opinions and beliefs of others and unwilling to listen to the whys of their beliefs and reason. Therefore, in these conversations, while still understanding that I know the God-revealed truth of Scripture, I ask myself, “What if they’re not wrong?” I find that this helps me toward finding the kernels of truth in what they believe and helps me to establish common ground by which I can introduce them to Jesus in a way in which they will understand. This does not, however, persuade me or silence me to the fact that they have not encountered Truth in Jesus.

All this to say that our conversations with non-believers must be filled with gentleness and emotional hospitality, showing them the humility that should come with our belief of an infinite God.