A Christian Worldview from Silicon Valley

Putting a bounty on the capture or destruction of an outlaw is an age-old practice. You can read about it in the Bible, and if you’ve ever seen a “western” movie, you’ve seen wanted posters with pictures of bad guys to be brought in and dollars to be paid.

You probably also know about the bounty for Osama Bin Laden, currently “up to $25 million for information leading directly to” his apprehension or conviction, but you probably don’t know there is an even higher bounty for a much more outrageous middle-eastern cleric.

This one is not offered by the federal government of the United States, it is offered by radical Islamists, and it is for the death of a Christian.

The target is Father Zakaria Botros, an Egyptian who has been exiled for preaching Jesus over the air waves. It is estimated that he is watched by 50 million Muslims each time he is on the air via satellite, and he is on the air almost every day.

Some believe that he is at the top of the Jihadist’s most wanted list, and the price on his head is reported to be $60 million. He says he is not afraid to die, because he knows Jesus Christ, and he cannot and will not stop preaching, because the Muslims need to hear the gospel message. Being a disciple of Jesus well may cost this brother his life, but it doesn’t matter—he’s already given his life to Jesus.

When we count the cost of discipleship, is our math as simple as that?

Arthur was focused.  It was dinner time, and he knew the drill — where the food was, and who would deliver it.  Any twitch by his master towards the fridge provided an eager response from Arthur, who was not discouraged by so many false starts.  He knew he was totally dependent upon his person-master for everything.  But this did not discourage him; it seemed to give him purpose and direction, love and joy and peace.

Then it struck me, if I could be as dependent on God, as Arthur was on his master, how would that change my life?

What if I suddenly realized that every meal was only going to come from one place (God, not the refrigerator)?

What if I suddenly realized that any meaningful loving I craved was only going to come from one place (God, not worldly desires)?

What if I suddenly realized that any joy/peace in my life was only going to come from one place (God, not a temporary escape)?

Arthur put all of his attention, his focus, toward his master.  I suggested that it was as if he was worshipping his master, but that doesn’t quite work, as Arthur really has no concept of a “god”.  But another way to put it is devotion.

Jesus said that to really understand the Kingdom of Heaven, we have to be like / think like little children, be more pure and simple.  I think He might have considered dogs for His analogy, but dogs were such low-life in His day, that probably would have offended His listeners even more!

But today we love our dogs, and they love us.  In fact, I am beginning to realize that we should very much strive to be more like dogs (in the good sense), learning from how they depend and rely on, are devoted to and love their masters.

From here on out, I’m going to try to be more devoted to my Master, like Arthur is to his.  Everything I need comes from my Master.  I only need to turn to my Master for the loving that I crave.  Joy and peace, these too, come from my Master.  God, my Master.

And the best part is, I can worship Him too, because he is my God.  And He is my Father, which makes me His child, and that’s way better than being His dog.  Now, isn’t that cool?

When I went to wash my hands in the restroom of a Chinese factory, the sign above the sink said:  “Perfermance tap, stretched out your hands to effluent, Please do not agitute!” (sic)  In my Japanese hotel room, there was no flush lever on the toilet — instead, there was quite a complex looking control box attached to the wall, all in Japanese (and some cute pictures!) — I’m sure one of these buttons indicated “flush”, but which one?  What if I press the wrong button?  These are silly examples, but let’s face it, the world can be a very confusing place.

How do you react when confusion sets in?  For me, as time pressures rise, my stress rises much more quickly with the amount of confusion, usually making things only worse.

How do you resolve your confusion?  Do you look for a “Good Samaritan” (please help me!)?  Just start pressing as many buttons as possible (just try something — anything)?  Take it out on the offending thing and strike it?!

Jesus’ disciples were confused a lot; in fact, one could consider them confused nearly the whole time they were with Jesus (except for rare divine moments), up until when the Holy Spirit was given to them at a special celebration called Pentecost.  After that, it seemed they were thankfully no longer confused.  (They had their disagreements, but individuals didn’t seem confused as to what they should do next!)

Was Jesus ever confused?  It’s hard to imagine our God incarnate (who made us all!), ever not understanding something.  Yet the thing that confounded Him most was our own thick-headedness.  He would cry out — “Oh you of little faith!”, and  “How can you be so dull?”  Creation didn’t puzzle Him, but people confounded Him frequently!  People confound me, too, so I shouldn’t feel too bad about that.

How did Jesus deal with his confusion?  Is there a lesson here? Patience. And a lot of it.  As Jesus was infinite in everything, He was certainly infinite in patience.  He took time to explain things (again!), and sometimes, when all the explaining in the world wouldn’t work, He just moved on, knowing they would “get it” eventually.

Should the gift of the Holy Spirit clarify everything for us, as it did the disciples?  How I wish it would, and how I wish it did.  Maybe the Holy Spirit doesn’t clarify everything to me because I don’t welcome Him in sufficiently well.  The disciples reacted to that Gift by becoming one purpose, spreading God’s Word.  I reacted to that gift too, but retain many purposes — work, family, home, and oh yes, spreading God’s Word.  Maybe I’d be a lot less confused if I focused more clearly only on God’s will. Maybe then, the Holy Spirit would make clear all the confusion in my life.

When’s the last time you lifted up your confusion to the One who can clarify all?