A Pseudo-scholarly response.

I am no scholar. And this is not false humility.

My mental capacities cannot even compare to the likes of Edwards, Piper, McArthur, Sturgeon, Pink, Thoennes, Moreland, etc. They were blessed with mental faculties far beyond my own and they are capable of thinking and extrapolating truth and practical insights from a knowledge base established by years of reading and diligent research.

I find it slightly amusing that my poor little brain likes to be scholarly at times--even though it does not possess the "proper equipment," such as the ability to think/compare abstract ideas or retain heady information from scholarly books and articles. In fact, when my brain tries to engage in scholarly thinking, the rest of my body shuts down in order to supply the necessary amount of "power" my brain needs to think this way.

And right now, my brain is driving itself crazy thinking about "bibleolatry," or "bible idolatry." This is a term that proposes that in most, if not all, conservative evangelical circles, there is an "over-commitment" to the Bible--leaving no room for extra-biblical revelation which hinders the application of practical theology to life, philosopy, natural science, moral law, etc.

My initial reaction to this idea was my jaw-dropping and my eyeballs nearly popping out of their respective sockets: "WHAT??? How can a Christian be over committed to GOD's Word??"

What was even more shocking was that J.P Moreland, a scholar that I greatly admire, even wrote a paper about how this very idea titled, How Evangelicals Became Over-committed to the Bible and What Can Be Done About It.

Now, a scholar--not me--would've done all the research first and read all the necessary books/journals/papers before writing a response. Frankly, I don't have the time to delve deeper into this because I have an apologetics test and nursing pharmacology exam looming over my head like a dark, ominous cloud. I suppose reading the first page of Moreland's paper (and skimming the rest. Hee.), reading various blog responses/critiques and Moreland's own explanation of his paper and view points would have to suffice for now.

I also have ADHD. Maybe.

Anyway, what Moreland does NOT say about this concept of "bibleolatry," is that we stop thinking of scripture as the final authority in the lives of Christians. He does NOT say that we cannot receive revelation from God from His Word. And, finally, he does NOT say that we should stop reading our Bibles.

But Moreland does challenge evangelicals, especially those that are further down the conservative end of the Christianity spectrum, to "think outside the box." He states--and this is loosely paraphrased--that conservatives are not open to the possibility of extra-biblical knowledge, like natural or experiential revelation and other sources that might explain things that are not explicitly discussed within the pages of scripture--like the presence and activity of demons, or crossing cultural bridges and how the Gospel is to be delivered to a culture and worldview outside of the western mindset, or how to contextualize the good news to people groups who have no point of reference for biblical history, Jesus or even know what a "bible" is! (Now, that was my own insight, not Moreland's).

I suppose I can say that I respect where J.P Moreland is coming from. He is merely offering another perspective. He has been studying this for a while and he's done his research, like a good scholar. At this point, I cannot make a committed decision about whether I believe he is right or wrong without being emotional about it.

Yes, emotional.

I observed that my natural tendency would be to throw a fit and call Moreland a heretic, or worse. Why? I'd like to say that my reaction would be coming from "righteous anger," because obviously, I know all the right answers. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. No need to keep on searching for the Truth, because Linell has figured it all out.

NOT.

No, my initial reaction came from the fact that Moreland's ideas were directly interfering with my need to be able to dichotomize my world, or see it in black and white. Once again, he was affriming the fact that the world cannot be so simple. His ideas were challenging MY worldview and beliefs, and more importantly, making ME uncomfortable. In other words: I was taking it way too personally.

And how often do we, as evangelicals, react so strongly (and often times too wrongly) just because our own personal, subjective beliefs about what is true is being challenged?

I know that in times like this, when my brain is being thrown for a loop and I must wrestle with new ideas, I can rest in the fact that TRUTH is objective. That God, who is high in heaven, is our Great Overseer, that He is Sovereign and does not need me to defend Him. He is perfect and in absolute control--despite my personal chaos. And while He does command Christians to speak the Truth in boldness, I am reminded that His greatest commands are to love Him and to love His people. And sometimes, the greatest way to love a person is to shut up and listen. Will it really hurt to listen to new ideas?

And God, will reveal all things in due time, in HIS perfect timing. I can pray and ask Him for wisdom, which He will gladly give, without reproach (James 1:5).

for more info about Moreland's article, you can access and download the PDF file: here.

to read Moreland's response, go here.

Humility

If you were to ask me to describe my week, thus far, in one word, I would say: Humbling. with a capital "H."

Humbling situation #1: I was convicted of a few things that required me to put to death any sort of entitlement or rights that I had about certain situations. Following through with what I needed to do was like a violent and radical extraction of my pride. I likened it to be like a root canal, without the novocaine. Pride hurts my soul and my relationships. It needs to come out, because it's poison.

Humbling situation #2: a couple of days ago, as I was backing out of the carport of my apartment, my right rear view mirror snagged on the pole that supports the carport and the whole thing broke off. It was hanging helplessly down the side of my car, as I drove around trying to find super glue to put it back together. When the super glue didn't work, I used electrical tape that I found in my roommate's toolbox. The situation made me laugh because earlier that day I was saying to myself, "Wow, you've done such a good job of taking care of your car over these years. Nothing has happened to it since you've moved to LA."

I spoke too soon.

Humbling situation #3: I don't need to go into too much detail, because it would make this post very long. The gist of it is this: Today in clinicals, I was functioning way too independently from the nurse I was shadowing--granted she did seem to trust me way too much-- which led to me making a medication error. The med error itself wasn't serious, as I found out after asking the pharmacist and my nurse. However, the med error plus the charting error PLUS the communication issue lead to my nurse making this comment: "What is going on with you? Are you possessed or something? Is Friday the 13th really getting to you?"

Apparently.

I know people make mistakes, we're imperfect beings after all. But to make so many in a row in such a short time, has to be some sort of a record. Though I do recognize that a lot of my mistakes stemmed from me being a little too overconfident. Gah. See? See, what happens when you're too prideful?

Take it from me, get rid of it. Get rid of it now before you break your car or accidentally kill someone.

Caffeinated Optimist.

I find that after drinking coffee, I see life in a much different light. It's as if a pair of rose-tinted sunglasses suddenly appear before my eyes and I respond with delight, with many an "oohs" and "aahs." Caffeine magnifies my hopes and dreams and projects them onto a larger than life faux brick wall of unprecedented expectations. All of a sudden, I can do anything and everything and life is not as bad as it seems--which it really isn't, but life has had it's moments.

(I say faux brick wall because, though seemingly unmoveable, it is easily destroyed by the dreaded caffeine crash...which will happen in about 3ish hours).

But right now I'm happy. Really happy.

But should I be so giddy? And without a care in the world? Haha no. Here's a list of reasons why:
1.) I am terribly behind in my nursing reading. And by behind I mean, I haven't read anything. At all.
2.) I have a vocabulary quiz today on nursing terminology from the reading that I have yet to do (but class isn't till 1:30, so I've got plenty of time, right?)
3.) secret.
4.) I find that I have over-commited myself this semester. I was so busy trying to be busy that I have actually succeeded in becoming a really busy person. Busier than I have ever been, or will be, in my whole life. Unfortunately, I'm not built to be a "busy" person. I'm a person who likes to not do anything when she has down time. And now my down time is at its minimum. I have yet to reach panic mode, all I keep saying in my head is: "Challenge? ACCEPTED!!!" Hopefully, my optimism will not kill me.
5.) Somehow my $500 PDA has taken a permanent hiatus. Perhaps I was working poor little Pamela too hard. Or maybe she felt neglected when I left her in my apartment for three weeks, all by herself. Well, whatever it was, she's gone now, which is unfortunate because a PDA is one of those things that I really, really need for nursing.

yeah. that's about it. I'm taking a cue from Bob Marley and singing "....every little things gonna be alright..."

Ya' Mon.

A Beautiful Stranger

The bell chimed politely, announcing the arrival of yet, another customer.

I turned to smile, expecting to see the friendly faces of The Golden Girls, an endearing name I've given to a group of three women, 60 years or older, who regularly meet Sunday evenings--a tradition they started 20 some years ago to get away from their husbands during Monday Night Football. Now they just meet Sunday night, since the men don't watch football as much anymore.

However, instead of seeing Izzie, Marcy and Dale, I was surprised to see a man I've never seen before.

He looked like he had not showered in weeks. His matty and knotted hair was gray. His wrinkled forehead and checkered grin showed conclusive evidence of a man who has weathered, endured and seen a much harsher side of life. As he walked towards the register, the general atmosphere of the small coffee shop immediately became tense and uncomfortable. The man was softly muttering unintelligible things to himself, occassionaly looking to his left, at something, only he could see. I noticed many of the other customers ignored him, or pretended like he wasn't there. I was starting to become anxious. I was not quite sure what to expect from a man, who was showing signs of schizophrenia.

The man walked up the counter and put $2 down without saying a word to me.

"What can I get for you tonight, sir?"

He was still muttering to himself, muttering things that made no sense. He looked to his left, still muttering softly but started gesturing, waving his hand up and down, as if he was trying to "shoo" someone away. He looked at me listlessy, and then as if trying to get a crick out of his neck, he tilted his head slightly and clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath in and looked at me again. It was then that I saw his kind, gray eyes fill with tears. He gave me a look of helplessness and frustration as he tried to communicate with me.

"I just-- I just-- I JUST---want..."

Before he could finish his sentence, he began to mutter uncontrollably once again. He put his hands to his head and began to shake it violently. He stopped after a few seconds and sighed. His eyes looked at me apologetically, and then looked away. He began to mutter again, sounding more angry by the moment.

Something happened to my heart, right there and then. A rush of compassion warmed my entire body, I felt blood rush to my head and as if a lamp was lit inside my mind, my eyes were opened to see this broken man was a human being made in God's image--a beautiful stranger. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

"Sir," I asked gently, suddenly finding myself trying to fight back tears, "do you want... a cup of coffee?" I wanted to help him. I wanted to do everything I possibly could to help him. It was, however, too lofty a goal to attain at that point in time. Because I was at work, I could only help him with his coffee.

The man, still looking away, nodded. His mutterings died down to a steady lull. Though every now and again, he would bite his lip, as if he was trying to suppress something that he did not have control over. He slowly and gingerly pushed the $2 towards me.

Usually, coffee is self serve at the coffee place I work at--meaning, in a very obvious way, that the customers get their coffee themselves from the airpots placed on the counter.

I handed the man his change and a coffee cup. He nodded a "thank you," and walked over to the coffee pots. He stood there for awhile, looking carefully at each option, obviously confused about what to choose. Fortunately, there were no other customers waiting to be helped, so I walked over and tried to help him: "The House Blend is the more popular choice by most customers here and it's milder than the Tanzanian Peaberry...though the peaberry has kind of a weird, fruity taste...and I wonder sometimes why something fruity would have much more caffeine than a--" He looked at me and snorted a laugh, indicating that I was sharing information that he did not really care about. I smiled, "I mean, the vanilla nut is good." The man nodded furiously in agreement and began filling his cup--still muttering to himself.

I helped him pour creamer in his cup, since he did not seem to know how, or maybe could not get his brain to tell him how. Either way, I was glad to help him. Before he left, he bowed his head politely to me--still muttering his unintelligble words--and walked out the door. The bell chimed again, this time announcing his departure. And I watched him walked across the parking lot until I could not see him anymore, wondering if I would ever see him again-- The strange man who reminded me of something very important: People are worth our time and care because they are made in God's image, and there is something profoundly beautiful in that.