tirsdag 23. februar 2016

House for Sale


 
There is a house for sale, and we are going to look at it tomorrow. Do we need another house? Perhaps yes, perhaps not.


I sat this morning as the memories of the house for sale sprang into the present. I was there often as a child. I visited my cousin. At one point in life I thought about writing her story. But every time I wanted to start, I stopped. Her mother and father were still living. I could not be honest. I could not add another burden to their sorrow. In every letter I saw the pain, and slowly it brought my aunt to repentance and reconciliation with God.

I remember fun, laughter, but also a certain tense acceptance between the lady of the house and my mother. Normally I would have stomachaches after the meals; gas pains led me to a room in solitude. We were family. Traditions were upheld, at least around the holidays.

My cousin and I were close in age, close in spirit, in play and intelligence. She was sweeter than I, but I had freedom to explore life. She was like a princess in a castle.
Why did they overprotect her? Were they afraid she would vanish from their life?
Who can blame them? They had lost two sons, both in childbirth. She survived; she was strong and vibrant. But then her teenage years came, and she had no friends. She became extremely shy and socially awkward. The world was a scary place.

We went to the same high school, and she found me as a safe island in a wild storm. We were family. We were friends. I needed her, too. Her parents could not deny her my company. I was family, and I was reluctantly accepted – despite my hippie-look and new-found Christian faith, despite my political views at the time.

Who were they? He was my mother’s youngest brother, and he married a wonderful young woman who was not to my mother’s liking. Old aristocracy played its part, and  -sad to say – my mother was a bit full of it.  My aunt’s family were migrant workers, not land owners, and her father had taken his own life. The two ladies accepted each other out of cultural courtesy. They played their parts.

My cousin, though, was caught in the conflict of identity. To please her parents, she showed solidarity with the labour-movement, but in her heart she felt closer to my side of the family. She spoke dialect at home, but standard Norwegian with me.

Both of our families were humanist in philosophy, but my parents opted for an agnostic humanism, which did leave the possibility for God’s existence, but my aunt and uncle opted for a sharp atheistic humanism, and my aunt readily called herself a heathen.

So, in the fragile and fumbling adolescence, my cousin met Jesus. She lived in spirit, body and soul in an intense relationship to God.
            And this created conflict.

One day I was visiting, and my cousin and I had a bite to eat around the kitchen table, my aunt came by –and as we talked about faith, she commented, mockingly, with a small laugh: “You can’t believe that stuff, really?”

Towards the end of the last year in high school, around exam times, my cousin had a mental collapse.
He life came to a stand still, as she was in different sort of treatments, different stay in mental hospitals. She did not use her brilliant mind; she had little training. There was no future, no hope of having her own family. At one point she had her own place. She had lovers, often married men. But they did not care for her. Medication made her like a different person than her genuine self. But without it, life was volatile and hard to handle.

After years of this status, on Friday 13, the Friday before Easter – in Norwegian called “long Friday”, she hanged herself in her room, with the bitter note to her parents that she felt much more at home with my family than she ever did in her own.

So, they lost her, after all.
And they never recovered from this grief.
I wrote letter to my aunt, and she responded. My uncle grew weak and sickly, and he died while I was abroad, and none of us were notified.
Once I visited my aunt, she brought up the time she had mocked her daughter’s faith. She needed to let me know how that had afflicted her. But she was still a heathen, she said. Years later she had called for my sister to let her know that the heathen had surrendered to the living God.

So, tomorrow I will again visit the house. It is all emptied. My aunt died some time ago. The princess prison, the grave of my cousin, may see new life – but I will certainly pray in every room I go: dedicate the house to the Lord God. He reigns.

Perhaps I may tell her story – more in detail; perhaps I will let it rest.
The house is for sale, and it houses secrets.


mandag 22. februar 2016

Memory and Miracle

me in black and white
Memory and Being

History is always in the past. As such it is not; it was. The eternal now is present. Memory is a strange combination of past and present, in the way that it is based on the past, but is can defy time and bring the feeling of past moments into the present again. Pain can be revisited, although it was forgotten. It can have its hold on us. We do not remember pain, only that something was painful. But this sensation, this sadness, can overwhelm us to such an extent that we need to deal with the issues of the past again.
            Memory is, as a present tense occurrence; at the same time it is based in the past for its function. So, we have the selections: what does the memory dwell on? What do I wish to remember? For sure, there is an aspect of voluntary involvement, as well as involuntary reaction, with memory.

Paul talks often about the way we were before, and the change that occurred when we came to faith in Jesus Christ. He knows we carry the conscious memories with us; although the things he mentions about our past, is not something we are proud of. No, it is something we wish to hide and not be reminded of. He brings it up, though, because we have not let go, fully, but still linger in the depths of sin. It needs to be confronted, in order for there to be a change. Confess your sins before the Lord… if they are red as scarlet, they will be white as snow. God will make us part with them, as far as east is from the west – an idiom for eternity.
            Paul speaks more about the change and new life we have in Christ – where we have the forgiveness for sins. Forgiveness – if it blots out memories, I am not sure, but it punctures any pesky growth of bitterness. It has a cleansing effect.

            Memory is in our being, and our being is in the memory. The act of God which brings in forgiveness into this mechanism, is truly a miracle.

Heit Debatt



Programleder innleder debatten om klima ved å presentere panellistene og dybden  i norsk debatt:

Panel –debatt.
Panellist 1. (Forsker) ”Statistikker og prognoser viser at det blir varmere og varmere, og det blir vanskelige forhold mange steder i verden.”

Panellist 2.(Politiker. Rep.for Ungdomspartiet) ”Ja, som representant for Ungdomspartiet, må jeg jo si  at vi er heldige som bor i Norge.”

Panellist 3: en kirkens mann (iført bispeskjorte): ”Ja, det er viktig å snakke om været. Vi har en lang tradisjon i kirken for å snakke om været.”

Panellist 4: (Aktivist): (roper)”Ned med kua! ”(har skilt med seg).

Replikk-runde til alle panellistene
1+2+3+4: ”Ja, jeg er enig alle, og særlig med sistnevnte. ”

Programleder gir seg ikke så lett. Nei, hun kommer med et nytt forslag til debatt: Hva om vi slutter å produsere olje på norsk sokkel?

En nølende taushet, før alle snakker i munnen på hverandre og  gir et klart signal: men hva med alle andre, da?

Panellist 1( forsker) : Vi må naturligvis kalle sammen til en internasjonal konferanse!
Panellist 2 ( politiker, Ungdomspartiet): Ja, på Bahamas eller Fiji!!
Panellist 3 (kirkens mann): Enighet skaper enhet... det er et vesentlig budskap.
Panellist 4 (Aktivist): Hæh? Kuer promper like mye for det!

Programleder: Men tilbake til spørsmålet…. ?

 - Reklame –

Sendetiden over.

Powerful Words; Pathetic Verbosity




I have been reading the Bible. I read the Letter to the Hebrews on Sunday afternoon, and today I continued reading the letters to the churches in Corinth, Ephesus, Philippi and in Colossae.

In the letter to the Hebrews, I was struck with the grandeur of the risen Lord Jesus Christ; and I was emboldened by the strength that was in the words.
…”but in the last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom he also created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.” (Hebr. 1:2-3)

God has spoken to us.
Should we perhaps listen?
He has spoken to us by his Son, Jesus.

On occasion I stumble onto popular fields of study in theology. For some time the quest for the historical Jesus has been in vogue. The would-be theologians act like scoffers who think they can squeeze out a complete sketch of his earthly life in their ‘Jesus-studies’, naturally, devoid of any divine attributes. Under the pretence of coming closer to truth, they deny the Lord of the Universe.
            In the perspective given in the opening lines of the letter to the Hebrews, I see a strong and mighty Christ, one who upholds this universe, one who holds our total future in his hands. And I see the self-important historical-critical scholars scurrying about like small black ants in an anthill: going nowhere, doing nothing useful, only scurrying about. They are the confused ants, the ones who have lost their sense of direction. But with their many words, they claim authority to deny the authority of the Word. Sad.

Jesus is appointed the heir of all things.
This world and all in it, this entire universe belongs rightfully to Jesus. The worldly things, the evil in this world and all the powers of defiance – belong to Him. Interesting. This means that the whole world is under His domain. All and any will answer to Him.

God created the world through Jesus.
This expression has come up in the gospel according to John, as well. Jesus was there in the very beginning, with God. Yes, I know; for he is one with God. He is God.

“He is the radiance of the glory of God” –
The majestic image, beyond this world, beyond our imagination, is the victorious Christ.
“and the exact imprint of his nature” – of God’s nature. He is one with God in being, nature, essence, and majesty… Pantecrator – this is the reigning Christ in the Orthodox Church tradition.

And who do we think we are?
Face to face with the Lord of creation, Lord of the universe, who do we think we are, to belittle His word? In the name of science, knowledge and progress, theological and philosophical inquiries have turned to trying to outsmart the Lord of all. Pathetic.

The texts of the Bible we have today are willed by God to show us the way to peace with Him in Christ Jesus, no matter who penned them. The texts speak; they attest the truth and the might of our living God.

If theological and philosophical research would benefit the growth of the church (the body of believers), if it would encourage faith in Christ, it has value. If it would build up the believers in their faith and lived life, it has value.

Jesus upholds the universe with his power.
Honour him.
Jesus Pantecrator, SanGiovanni, Florence


søndag 7. februar 2016

Christianity Without Christ


I felt challenged by a friend to find out more about the thoughts and writing of Friedrich Nietzsche. I must admit that I have kept him on arm’s length from my days of studying philosophy. I was young and not well grounded in my Christian faith then, and Nietzsche was for me a scary monster. Now I am not so young anymore, and much more grounded in my faith. I found a book on the shelf about Nietzsche and Christianity, written by Karl Jaspers. 

Most of us know that Nietzsche was a rabid critic of Christianity, lashing out in different ways against the Christian tradition he was brought up in, which was a pietistic Lutheran tradition. At the same he has great admiration for individual Christians and he admits the value of the Christian moral teachings in society.
Friedrich Nietzsche

What strikes me, and bothers me, is to meet this thinker and realize that all the Christian influence in his upbringing, in his own thought patterns and world views – remained an empty shell, for there was no connection with Christ, the Saviour.

His experience of this shallow emptiness is painful to see. He claims that the Christian tradition – Christendom through history – has distorted the true meaning of Jesus and his work. He presents Jesus as a psychological type who is in essence self-destructive in his lack of will to fight. He sees Jesus as a noble, but weak character; actually like a simpleton, who lets himself be pushed into a violent execution.

Who is Jesus Christ? Who is he to you? Has he become your own redeemer, your atoner, your saviour from sin and death? Is he real in your life? Is he the Lord of your life?

I see Nietzsche’s struggle against the framework of Christianity, where he is expected to live up to impossible moral standards, but where he never lets the Lord of Life into his heart.  He sees around him many who do not live according to their beliefs, and to him it is grave hypocrisy. A Buddhist monk lives differently than others, he noticed, but Christians live like anyone else. He expected there to be clear consequences of the faith. On occasion he did see it in some.

A Christless Christianity is an empty shell, structured by laws and morality. Only by the power of God can we live a life that pleases God. Nietzsche never knew the power of God.  It is sad.
            I have a strong notion that he was hindered and blinded by his own genius. He is bright, he penetrates thoughts and patterns in his contemporary society – and critiques them. He is the one that coined the phrase “ God is dead”.  This is a statement about a reality he sensed, not in defiance – which would be’ I do not believe in God’. No, this statement denotes a fact to him: There is no god in this world, no god in people’s lives, no god anywhere. All there is inside the structures of belief is emptiness.

It is interesting how he foresees the consequences of this nothingness, emptiness – nihilism. In essence, he warns against it. He describes the feelings of detachment, of fear and loneliness; and he mentions shame – a shame that is rooted in insufficiency, of weakness towards adhering to the demands of the morality, or of the whole shell of his Christian tradition. In response to this he calls for the strong, he calls for fighting, and he tries to overcome the foil of misdirected faith by claiming that truth will be victorious. And the truth he is referring to is the truth of nihilism.

He shows an intense drive to settle what is true. He wants to come to the bottom of life’s deeper questions. But he walks the paths so alone. He does not see the loving Father who walks next to him. He shuts his heart for God’s grace. He develops a view of history, which is reflecting his inner struggle.  The 2000 years of Christian influence, he calls a lie, or a distortion of the original teachings of Jesus. He sees a history of power and vengeance, of manipulations and abuse of power. He wants to find the more pure and untainted expression of truth in the pre-Christian Greek society…

I have often come across reference to Nietzsche’s ideas in other modern thinkers, and now I am starting to understand why. They may not settle for his solutions, but he raises deep and important questions.

As a Christian, a person who has gone from death to life, who have experienced the power and the grace of God in my life, who knows that to live a Christian life, we can only do so by the power of God, and not in our strength – I pray that more of my fellow countrymen may know the reality of God’s existence. Many live in a culturally Christian world, but with a Christ-less Christianity.

And I want to challenge my friend: Open your door for Jesus, the Lord of Life.

Surrender to him, and he will give you peace. A daily challenge is this.