We're on a Mission from God

Flipped on TNT last night and caught about an hour of the brilliant 1993 film Tombstone. When, or if you watch it, notice that the film is brilliant in part because it has deviated from historical record. The historical account takes a long time to develop, and does not lend itself to powerful filmmaking.

The film begins with a definition of who is good and who is bad. This is important because in today's western the sheriff isn't always good and wearing a white hat, and the bad guys don't always have mustaches and a black hat. In fact, the introduction tells us that the bad guys wear red sashes, and the good guy is Wyatt Earp and his brothers. This may be disputed by historians, but since when has Hollywood given a fig for history? Doc Holiday was a dentist, but Hollywood can't reconcile a gunfighter / dentist.

I feel like a dufus for constantly warning everyone about the spoilers, but I know how some people are, so be ye warned, I'm talking about the highlights of the film, which means that if you read it, you know how it ends.

Val Kilmer is his best role, possiby ever, in Doc Holiday (I'm your huckleberry). Visually and verbally there are references to the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse, setting the stage for Wyatt to spill blood as an agent for justice. The film really has one defining moment in it, when Wyatt moves from former lawman and part time deputy to God's Avenging Angel. The night that the Cowboys move against the Earps, we see Morgan die and Virgil bleeding all over the place. After watching his older brother lose the use of his arm, and his younger brother move into eternity, Wyatt walks out in to the pouring rain covered in the blood of his dead brother. His girlfriend and wife both approach him. The girlfriend is rejected with "Get away from me" and the wife turns away of her own accord. Blood on his hands and standing in the rain, Wyatt receives justification from the audience for everything that follows, whether he was right or wrong to that point.


I noticed this because recently I touched on the imprecatory psalms, which are difficult no matter how you view them. We see in the New Testament that we are to love our neighbor, and that includes our enemies. But in Psalm 69, the psalmist asks that the Lord's anger would overtake the writer's enemies, and that they would be blotted out of the book of life. Very serious requests indeed.

The answer is closely tied, in my mind, to how a loving God can send people to hell. Even in the OT, God forbade revenge, yet God is clearly above this. Modern accusations that the God of the OT is tribal and petty lose their luster in light of a a complete understanding of who God is. God is love, but love for humanity necessarily includes justice. Growing up, if I hit my little brother, my mother responded by spanking me. Was that vindictive? No, it was love for me in demonstrating that improper actions have negative consequences, and demonstrating to my brother that right actions result in freedom from fear.


So if God loves everyone, thus must allow them all into heaven, what solace is there for those who fully trust God, and fully live for him? If the evil persecutor gains heaven just as the righteous sufferer, how is God loving. Justice and punishment are MORE evidences of God's love than the absence of them would be. If evil were to go eternally unpunished, who cares if Love even exists?

In this way, we can pray for God's justice, not revenge, on our enemies. We are not thereby absolved of our Christian duty towards them. We still must pray, minister and witness to them, in accordance with the Christian ethic we know so well. Our prayers to God must be for his justice, and our salvation.

My Life as a brief Postmodern Essay

Marie says that the very beginning is a very good place to start. That’s good enough for me. The first thing that I remember wanting to be was an Olympic diver. Of course, I put no effort into that, or even demonstrated any desire at all to move in that direction, so that never happened. My mother has said that at some point I wanted to be a fireman. I believer her. She has no reason to lie, and firemen are pretty cool.

When I graduated from high school, I felt I was a pretty good writer, so I wanted to be a journalist. When I got to college, I discovered that for every 10 people that want to be journalists, there are 9 beat reporters and one former beat reporter who did a stint as editor at a small paper who has finally earned the right to be called a journalist. I also discovered scary things like working long hours for too little pay and libel lawsuits. I have a high respect for beat reporters, but I don’t want to be one.

Because I was 2 years into a communication major by the time I was disillusioned, I figured that lots of electives would be good, and took whatever my heart desired, but focused on communication. I became adept at film criticism and dabbled in every branch of the communications department except photography, because I never really liked the sound of Lou Slykers voice. I’m sorry to those of your who like Lou, I’m sure he’s a nice man. I also dabbled in the E-crit program, which I enjoyed thoroughly.

Before I graduated, I got an internship in the marketing department of an accounting firm, which turned into a full time position. I don't know how it happend, it just fell into my lap. I loved the job, and hated the work. I worked in multimedia, I worked with advertising, I worked on events. That means I edited databases and wrote copy. Then I got fired. They said I was laid off in an internal reorganization due to changing market forces, but they still chopped off my head. My wife laughed when I told her, because she didn’t believe me.

I found another internship, this time at a sexy young public relations firm. I was the research peon. I loved the work, and hated the job. I researched demographics, reporters, companies and potential clients. There’s no way to make that sound exciting, because the word research is boring, unless it is paired with the word development. But it was great. On the down side, the sexy young company jerked me around for 9 months, because that’s what sexy young things do.


One weekend, we were up north. I woke up in the middle of the night, and decided to take a walk in response to my insomnia. I walked on the beach, the wind driving in from the lake, with the waves crashing in response. During that time, on the beach, God told me to go to seminary and serve Him. So I went to seminary. I chose the masters of Christian Education, because the program seemed more interesting than straight theology.

Of course, by this time, sexy had decided I was good enough. Thus, I was given a job offer less than a month after I had been accepted into seminary. But, I felt that I shouldn't contradict the Creator of the Universe, so I went to school. That's pretty much where I'm at now. I go to school, I do a little work when I get the opportunity, I teach if someone will let me. I'm know the current step, but I'm waiting to know the next one.