Nerdchurch.church

Author: Roo

  • Reforge

    Reforge

    And it shall come to pass, when all these things are come upon thee, the blessing and the curse, which I have set before thee, and thou shalt call them to mind… and shalt return unto the LORD thy God… thou and thy children, with all thine heart, and with all thy soul; and the LORD thy God will bring thee into the land which thy fathers possessed… and he will do thee good, and multiply thee above thy fathers… for the LORD will again rejoice over thee for good, as he rejoiced over thy fathers: (Deuteronomy 30:1, 2, 5, 9)

    What can you do to fix a broken sword? You’ll need more than super glue, solder, or even duct tape.

    If you’re a Lord of the Rings fan, you know what to do. A broken sword must be reforged, as the elves reforged the shards of the broken relic Narsil to produce Andúril, a sword fit for the return of the king.

    There are lively discussions in the nerdsphere about the actual practicalities of reforging swords. Dive in as you wish.

    You’ll see there are metallurgical reasons why reforging a sundered blade is not recommended. Forge-welding pieces together is extremely tricky. Even when successful it leaves weak spots along fracture lines. A complete meltdown-recast-reforge is less bad, but still microstructurally inferior to the original. It will also be considerably smaller, after filing. If you want a blade that really measures up to the original, you’re better off starting completely over with a fresh piece of steel.

    Of course, that’s practically speaking, not dramatically speaking. And the contemporary discussion assumes the limitations of human smiths, without access to elven technology, or magic. If Tolkien knew how the elves did it, he wasn’t telling. But maybe it’s not a bad thing to get clear that reforging the blade that was broken implies more-than-human ability.

    If you read the Old Testament for the big themes that overarch individual stories, one of the biggest themes is the kingdom promised, established, corrupted, lost and … restored?

    Certainly there was hope and prophetic promise of restoration, but there were serious obstacles, geopolitically and spiritually. The world had moved on, and the Jewish people had moved on. As the kingdom receded further into the past, it was getting harder to believe that future history would ever deliver on what Moses and the prophets said: that the LORD would again rejoice over them for good. That the blessings of a way of life that was now barely remembered could be experienced again. That they would be, to the LORD, a kingdom.

    Read, for example, the prophet Malachi at the end of Old Testament and you can get a feeling for the atmosphere of weariness and cynicism into which he was speaking the word of the LORD. People needed to be reminded, “I have loved you,” “I am the LORD, I change not,” “Return unto me, and I will return unto you” (1:2; 3:6, 7). You get a sense of how many people who had known God were on the brink of giving up.

    Reforging implies more than human ability. If you want to be part of reforging a faith community from shards, it’s OK to know that. If something you want to is going to take a miracle, you may as well be aware of your situation.

    Because from our standpoint today, we can read the New Testament and church history and follow another powerful and heartbreaking story of the gospel of the kingdom promised, established, corrupted, lost and (isn’t it time?) restored.

    It shall come to pass. In the meantime, it’s understandable to feel weariness and cynicism. And it’s important not to give up.

    Not all those who wander are lost.

    Watch the corresponding video at https://youtu.be/NhlsoXmly5A

    “Free person forging metal image“/ CC0 1.0
  • Crypto

    Crypto

    But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. (Matthew 6:6)

    I hope Nerdchurch won’t get flagged for posting about crypto. We’re only talking about crypto because Jesus does, as recorded in the middle chapter of the Sermon on the Mount, where this section of teaching forms the setting for the Lord’s Prayer.

    Jesus warned against doing pious activities–alms, prayer, and fasting–as the hypocrites whose goal is to call attention to themselves. People who make a public performance out of charitable service, or prayer, or fasting, can get noticed. They may impress others, or be socially rewarded. But Jesus says of each, “they [already] have their reward.” If your goal is to get views, you just got some. (Resounding golf clap for you.)

    As an alternative, if your purpose in these activities is actually about God, Jesus says to do them secretly. Help others without being identified, let alone trumpeting your good deeds. When fasting, fix your face and don’t look miserable. When praying, go in your closet and shut the door. Be stealthy.

    And that really pious, sacrificial, virtuous thing you did? The thing that would really let people know you’re a good person? Don’t post about it. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t even help them guess.

    Why do our god-ward activities secretly? Because, Jesus says, God is our Father, and God is also tō en tō kruptō–the [One] in the secret. God sees in secret, because God is in secret. This is one of the names of God:

    Why askest thou thus after my name, seeing it is secret? (Judges 13:18)

    God keeps a pretty low profile, if you think about it. Yes, God has done some stupendously public things, like creating the universe or multiverse, but in such an elegantly subtle way that many clever people find it unnecessary to posit his involvement.

    In the gospels, Jesus follows his Father’s example by avoiding publicity when possible, slipping off to undisclosed locations to pray, and letting his message and life story be written down by others. Jesus never asked everybody to reset the calendar for him, celebrate his birthday, or use his name as a swear word.

    And the Holy Spirit who meets us today also operates with great subtlety and reserve. He inspires and empowers and speaks to millions of people, without a blue checked account on any major platform.

    God is tō en tō kruptō, the One in the secret. He invites you to connect with him on an unpublished, secure, encrypted private channel that cannot be spoofed or hacked, where things are completely real between you and your God.

    Hypocrites already have their rewards. Friendship with God is something else. If you want it, enter into your closet, shut the door, and pray.

    See the corresponding video at https://youtu.be/A5caZMGR7CI

    “Midlife Modernization van Hr.Ms. Van Galen (F 803) bij de Rijkswerf Willemsoord. Voorbereidende werkzaamheden.De bedrijfscentrale met te verwijderen apparatuur, midden vier KW-7 crypto-machines en daaronder dire T100 telexen.“/ CC0 1.0

  • Debuffs

    Debuffs

    Many games include buffs and debuffs that can make the challenge level a little easier, or a little or a lot harder. Designers will scale buffs and debuffs to bend the game without breaking it. Most are temporary, or can be removed or reversed one way or another to bring the game back into its original balance.

    Real life is not balanced, or fair. Real life hurts. Real life can somehow be both scarier and more boring than you ever want to experience. And the debuffs of real life frequently just suck. If I got you a subscription to a game that was too much like real life, I doubt you’d want to play it!

    Looking at what the Bible says about real-life debuffs–or what the Bible calls affliction–I’m really relieved it’s not some pat answer that life is somehow fair, or not as hard as it seems.

    Not everything in the Bible is ‘what the Bible says.’ Satan is quoted in the Bible, recommending quick fixes and immediate gratification–turn these stones into bread! Job’s crummy religious friends are also quoted, implying that Job just wasn’t living right. But that’s not ‘what the Bible says,’ really.

    What the Bible says about affliction sounds more like this:

    For [the LORD] hath not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; Neither hath he hid his face from him; But when he cried unto him, he heard. (Psalm 22:24)

    See how non-religious the LORD can be?

    • He doesn’t despise affliction, saying it’s no big deal, blaming or shaming the afflicted person, telling them to just rub some dirt on it.
    • He doesn’t abhor affliction, being grossed out, backing away and treating the afflicted person like they have cooties.
    • He doesn’t hide his face, avoiding eye contact and depersonalizing the afflicted person as “them, not us.”
    • He hears the cry of the afflicted person. When they call, the LORD picks up and doesn’t just let it go to voice mail.

    People will do all those things to you when you’re afflicted, and feel just fine about themselves. If you’re at a disadvantage, or maybe just different from them, people can be ungenerous and just plain mean. But the LORD is something else.

    If you’re a Bible nerd, you know that Psalm 22 is the psalm Jesus started to quote from the cross. He made it his prayer:

    My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? (Psalm 22:1)

    This Psalm starts out with the absolute honesty that real life includes situations where we literally feel godforsaken, like God has rejected us or let us down. And we ask, why? If Jesus felt that way, and he was (to put it mildly) a believer, it may not be realistic for me to expect that as a believer, I will never feel that way.

    Sometimes I will feel like my problems are just too much, like God should never let life get this hard, like I should never be this clueless about what to do next. This game is broken!

    But it’s not a game. And without despising, without abhorring, without hiding his face, the LORD is listening.

    Watch the corresponding video here.

    “Indoor climbing facility featuring multiple climbing walls with various designs and difficulty levels. The walls include colorful, geometric holds and textures, offering diverse climbing challenges” by Nilo Velez/ CC0 1.0
  • Invisible

    Invisible

    “If God is real, how come nobody can see him?”

    This inside fastball question, as only a ten-year-old can deliver it, was pitched at my friend, Russ.

    Russ was a Greatest Generation guy who had done a bunch of cool stuff as an aerospace engineer, inventor, and perpetual entrepreneur. In his later years, he volunteered at his church’s Vacation Bible School, doing science demonstrations for the kids.

    Russ was brilliant, opinionated, challenging and let’s call it, “gruff.” Adults often found him intimidating.

    But he showed another side to kids. Maybe he was tapping into the sense of wonder and tenacity he’d shown as a kid, growing up in the Depression. He’d scavenged in junkyards for wire to build a crystal radio. (It worked.) Maybe the kids picked up on that.

    He’d also been known to reward students with candy, although this was no longer encouraged in childrens’ ministry circles. So when Russ said, “Any questions?” the kids would have questions.

    “If God is real, how come nobody can see him?”

    There was a pause. The kid who asked this question knew it was a tough one.

    Russ had not fielded this question before. But he replied:

    “If you were that powerful, wouldn’t YOU be invisible?”

    Oooh. The kid nodded with satisfaction.

    Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen. (1 Timothy 1:17)

    Watch the corresponding video here.

    “Multi-wavelength, false-colored view of the M82 galaxy. Original from NASA. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.” by NASA/ CC0 1.0
  • The gospel of the grace of God

    The gospel of the grace of God

    But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God. (Acts 20:24)

    In this section of Acts 20, Luke gives a detailed account of Paul’s farewell to the elders of the Ephesian church.

    Paul is setting sail towards Jerusalem, where his sworn enemies (literally, they took an oath about this) want him dead. The Holy Spirit warns Paul of “bonds and afflictions” there. He’s going anyway, to testify the gospel of the grace of God. What is that?

    On a theological level, Paul isn’t suggesting that the gospel of the grace of God is his special, ‘branded’ gospel, separate from the gospel Jesus sent all the apostles to preach. Paul had already gone on record about alternative gospels.

    As we said before, so say I now again, If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed. (Galatians 1:9)

    We would be going against Paul’s intentions if we played off the gospel of grace against the gospel of the kingdom, the gospel of God against the gospel of Christ, or whatever else.

    But on a biographical level, Paul understood very well that his testimony–his encounter with Jesus, and how his life had been profoundly changed-was distinctive. This put a very personal stamp on his ministry, and the way he understood and communicated the gospel.

    One of the great things about the New Testament is that it does not homogenize people’s testimony or voices. Their personal encounter with Jesus is not interchangeable. Their individual story and style and vocabulary shine through.

    Paul never got over the grace of God. He never got over the fact that when he was “yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1), Jesus met him on the way to Damascus and changed the course of his life.

    Jesus, who once told Pharisees that the kingdom of God was within them, reached out to this bitter, insecure Pharisee and awakened the kingdom of God inside him.

    Paul never got over how Jesus doesn’t just say:

    Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you (Matthew 5:44)

    Jesus actually does this. He still does it. He loves his enemies, blesses those who curse him, does good to his haters, prays for his persecutors. Jesus loves people back to life. He brings the gospel of the grace of God.

    We get to testify to that gospel, and what it does for us.

    As recorded in Acts 22, when Paul arrives in Jerusalem he finds outrage waiting for him. His attempt to speak in public is interrupted by a riot as soon as he says the word, “Gentiles.” He doesn’t get as far as ‘preaching the gospel,’ as we would understand it. He doesn’t even say the word, “grace.” But he does get to tell the crowd, including his enemies, about how Jesus met him on the way to Damascus.

    Welcome to Nerdchurch!

    Watch the corresponding video here.

    “Saint Paul Preaching Unknown artist” by The Art Institute of Chicago/ CC0 1.0
  • More are the children of the desolate

    More are the children of the desolate

    Sing, O barren, thou that didst not bear; break forth into singing, and cry aloud, thou that didst not travail with child: for more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married wife, saith the LORD. (Isaiah 54:1)

    Judah had been shattered. Isaiah 54 uses the language of widowhood and barrenness. These losses were literal, as well as spiritual. Husbands and children were dead, or gone missing. Even as they worked out ways for life to go on, the survivors felt desolation and loss of direction.

    The exile sheared Jews away from their families, homes, communities, even the habits that connected them with God. Nothing was the same. Feeling secure was just a memory. They didn’t know what would happen to them next, much less what would happen to their children and grandchildren.

    The word Isaiah heard from the LORD acknowledged their pain, and brought them a word of hope. The LORD cares about the desolate, and their children. He will restore them.

    Without taking this word away from anyone else, we can hear it speaking to our situation today. The children of the desolate really, empirically, outnumber the children of the married wife.

    Here’s what I mean: Last year, I saw (separate) reports that 72% of adults agree that Jesus rose from the dead, and 18% are in church more than twice a year.

    Neither of these statistics is shocking, individually. Where I live, Sunday morning is definitely not rush hour. But a sense of reverence for Jesus is widespread, even among people who use his name as a cuss word. (There’s no oomph in profaning what isn’t sacred, right?) And if you go to Target a couple of days before his birthday, expect to wait a long time at checkout!

    It’s the combination that rocks me. For every child inside the church–the “married wife”–there are three more outside–historically considered by the church to be “desolate”–who believe that Jesus rose from the dead. Where I live, people of Christian affinity living outside the church are not a minority–they are actually the majority.

    Individuals and families of Christian affinity who walked away from church, drifted away from church, or had church stripped from them, are actually the majority right now. (Or where you live, maybe a plurality if not a majority.) They are not weird. They are not anomalies. There are reasons for where they are, how they feel, what they value, what they need, what they hope for and worry about.

    If you’ve been a dechurched person for awhile, it’s OK to lol and smh at how recently I caught onto these facts. Maybe I sound like the guy who fell into Old Faithful and thought he invented hot water! But, sincerely, these facts have rocked my perspective and given me a new appreciation for how the children of the desolate have always been in God’s mind, and on God’s heart.

    For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call. (Acts 2:39)

    God’s promises reach to the children of the desolate. And further.

    Welcome to Nerdchurch!

    Watch the corresponding video here.

    “Animals Birds” by Ray Hennessy/ CC0 1.0
  • The kingdom of God is within who?

    The kingdom of God is within who?

    The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you. (Luke 17:20-21)

    For whatever reasons, it’s easier for me to imagine the kingdom of God coming at some other place and time, than wherever I happen to be. I expect the exciting rumors and headlines to come from somewhere else. That’s not illogical, considering that “somewhere else” takes in a lot more territory than “here” does.

    But there’s more to it than that. There’s a feeling of disenchantment that I’m the least likely person in the least likely place for anything significant to happen. I may not be happy about this. Maybe I nurse unfulfilled hopes of being part of something great, or at least lit with adventure. But here I sit, feeling not unlike Luke Skywalker.

    “Well, if there’s a bright center to the universe, you’re on the planet that it’s farthest from.”

    But what if the kingdom isn’t coming somewhere else–or at least that’s not where it’s coming for me? What if it doesn’t come by observation, while I’m staring, listening, reloading the page, waiting for something to happen? What if I don’t have to get off planet, or out of town, to catch wind of it?

    What if (behold!) the kingdom of God is within you? “Behold,” like “lo,” is a prompt to notice something that’s already there. Lo and behold, Jesus said, the kingdom of God is right there within you!

    Even if you follow one of the modern translations that nerf-renders entos as “among you,” low and behold, the kingdom of God is right there, among you. Just notice it. Get into it.

    And Jesus made this statement to… great saints? his favorite or most promising disciples? Nope.

    Jesus made this statement to: Pharisees. Pharisees. Oh my.

    Welcome to Nerdchurch!

    Watch the corresponding video here.

    “Christ and the Pharisees” by Lawrence W. Ladd, active 1865-1895/ CC0 1.0
  • Fire

    Fire

    I am come to send fire on the earth… (Luke 12:49)

    I cited this verse responding to a question on the Nerdchurch Discord server: If you build yourself as an rpg character, what is your class and alignment?

    My choice is: human cleric–with the fire domain (Pathfinder) or light domain (5e). Because: Fireball!

    In-game, casters aren’t always responsible with fireballs. We may overlook flammable objects (including party members) in the area of effect. [Or, if you’re a video gamer, ask yourself if you’ve always been responsible with a grenade launcher. I thought so.]

    Is there a legit Bible angle here? Of course. Jesus, being Jesus, has access to the fire and light domains. But he’s not careless about any aspect of his power. 

    Back in Luke 9:51-56, James and John had asked Jesus about commanding fire from heaven to consume a Samaritan village. (Jesus vetoed this.) But the crowd in Luke chapter 12 wouldn’t know about that incident, and Jesus doesn’t bring it up. 

    We can understand the “fire” that Jesus came to send on the earth as the intense presence and power of God, spreading from Jesus and confronting and transforming everything it touches.

    The fire of God hits hard. God’s grace can make it possible to catch his fire, without being consumed–like the burning bush Moses sees in Exodus 3.

    But by the numbers, in 22 out of 26 sayings about God’s fire in the gospels, the fire does damage. Surviving the fire of God, being transformed and reforged by it, is exceptional. It’s a miracle.

    A lot of people misunderstood Jesus. They did, and they still do. Jesus did not come to condemn or destroy anyone. But he did come to change the world. The authorities weren’t wrong to see Jesus as a threat to their power. And Jesus is a divisive figure. As much as he would like to bring peace, realistically he is both accepted and rejected.

    Jesus brings out all kinds of reactions in people. I’m not as perceptive as Jesus, but when I wear my Nerdchurch shirt with the message, JESUS LOVES NERDS, I can pick up on the mixed reactions people have to Jesus, his infinite love for nerds, and maybe the quirky guy who’s wearing the shirt.

    I look forward to what it will be like when a party of us show up where our fellow nerds gather, in Nerdchurch gear, curious characters who are overtly nerd-positive and Jesus-positive. I imagine that feeling awesome! Yet, realistically, reactions will be mixed and we need to be prepared for that. 

    I am come to send fire on the earth; and what will I, if it be already kindled? (Luke 12:49)

    How does Jesus feel about bringing fire, by being who he is? That’s what he’s asking himself, out loud, surrounded by his disciples and a crowd so dense people are stepping on each other. Maybe he’s thinking:

    I came, I let people hear me and see me and touch me and experience who I am. I lit the fire, and it’s spreading. Now what? 

    Jesus is not glib about sending fire on the earth. Jesus knows that he is seriously disrupting the world. It needs disrupting. He personally understands the pain of being misunderstood, stigmatized, plotted against. He knows that if he keeps going, he will face betrayal, abandonment, and death. And he keeps going.

    Now the question comes to you and me. What will I?  

    Do you still want to send fire on the earth?

  • Diamonds and Rocks

    Diamonds and Rocks

    [Master Hand] looked down at the pebble again. “A rock is a good thing, too, you know,” he said, speaking less gravely. “If the Isles of Earthsea were all made of diamond, we’d lead a hard life here. Enjoy illusions, lad, and let the rocks be rocks.” He smiled, but Ged left dissatisfied. (Ursula Le Guin, A Wizard of Earthsea)

    But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us. 2 Corinthians 4:7

    Ged (better known as Sparrowhawk, because a wizard doesn’t throw around his true name) and the Corinthians don’t know about each other, but they have a lot in common: gifted yet immature, they lack perspective and balance. And they tend to misunderstand and mistrust their mentors. What’s wrong with transmuting rocks into jewels? If you can do amazing things, why not make it pay? What’s the point of doing magic or miracles, if not to get ahead?

    For we commend not ourselves again unto you, but give you occasion to glory on our behalf, that ye may have somewhat to answer them which glory in appearance, and not in heart. 2 Corinthians 5:12

    The church at Corinth frustrated Paul, as he must have frustrated them! He counterbalances their energy. They want to be capable and impressive; he shares personal struggles and infirmities, and situations he does not control. They want to appear smart and powerful; he acknowledges foolishness and weakness. They want to be vested with authority; Paul wears the mantle of apostle ironically, if not lightly. They want to be changed into diamonds; he lets rocks be rocks.

    Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

    Paul isn’t just trolling the Corinthians. He has intentionally cultivated an appreciation–even a celebration–of his limitations, as a necessary complement to channeling the power of God.

    I’m a basic-level student of church history. Others here will have gone deeper into it than I have, and could make a case in more detail. But the big picture is clear enough. When Christians (individually or collectively) max out our social, economic and political power, we trade away spiritual and moral power, and the understanding of how God’s true power operates through us. As the church becomes richer, miracles become rarer. As our doctrinal systems become more sophisticated, there are more parts of the Bible we don’t know what to do with. 
    One of my hopes for nerdchurch is that we can be an exception, even an unwinding, of the tendency to trade humility and limitations for influence and impressiveness, to claim to know all the answers at the price of forgetting important questions.


    When Jesus chose Simon, he didn’t call him Diamond Simon, as catchy as that would have been. He just called him Rock.
    💎🪨

  • Doing what God Can’t Do

    Doing what God Can’t Do

    If the rich man would pay the poor man to die for him, the poor man could make a living.

    Do you love paradoxes? Even a paradox that depends on wordplay can stick like a burr in a wool sock. And a good conceptual paradox hits like ma la numbing hot spice delivered right to the brain. Sublime. Maybe that feeling is good for us. If you love it, you know you do.

    If we believe not, yet [God] abideth faithful: he cannot deny himself. 2 Timothy 2:13

    Whether in philosophical or biblical theology, there are discussions around things that God (or a Godlike being) can’t do. This includes not just snarky examples like, “Make a rock so heavy he can’t lift it,” but significant statements about God’s character, and what we can expect from God.

    Broadly speaking, God as described in the Bible is a maximally competent being, but there are explicit statements about things God cannot do. And one thing God cannot do is to deny himself. Before going further into what that means, let’s bring in another scripture:

    And [Jesus] said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. Luke 9:23

    The same thing God cannot do, is what Jesus says anyone who will come after him must do. What God will never do is what you or I or any person must do, according to Jesus, if we want to go after him. We deny ourselves. We say no to, negate, contradict ourselves. We resign and walk away from ourselves. We disown ourselves. We disavow being identified with or even knowing ourselves. We falsify ourselves and do something totally out of character for ourselves. We get over ourselves.

    Then, once that’s done, we can proceed to follow Jesus. It’s a first step, and arguably a step to take daily if we want to keep going on the same path that Jesus is on.

    Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said. “One can’t believe impossible things.”
    “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,’ said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

    What Jesus says in Luke 9:23 (compare Matthew 16:24 and Mark 8:34) opened up for me in a really exciting way only when I stopped hearing it as a morbid religious commandment to be miserable, and started hearing it as an invitation to a deliciously paradoxical way of living a different life. But watch that first step. It’s a doozy.