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“liking” the bible

Be forewarned: Crankypants ON.

I’ve started to see something disturbing in my alter ego wanderings on Facebook. Well, the whole thing is pretty disturbing, but let’s narrow the field here.

Okay. Here I go. Unedited crank.

So. Tell me:

Why do some FB Christians need to say they “like” the Bible or that the Bible is one of their favorite books? I mean, isn’t that kind of a given? And don’t most of your FB friends already assume this about you, that you like the Bible? If a person is a Christian, this would imply that the Bible, the” handbook,” essentially, for Christians, is something that they like or is one of their favorite books. They go hand in hand, don’t they? A Bible and a Christian? How can you live as a Christian and not like-love-need the Bible? Saying so is stating the obvious and stating the obvious is boring. It’s like saying, “I’m a human and I like air” or “I’m a man and I like sex.”

Really? Wow. I am gobsmacked. Humans like air?? Men like sex??? Christians like the Bible????

This is totally new information!!!

I shall write these things down. They seem like good things to know that I did not previously know.

Frankly, if a Christian doesn’t like the Bible, I’d have to at least put an asterisk by their personal label of “Christian.”

It all strikes me as something Christians do in kneejerk response to either real or perceived expectations of what constitutes godliness. If I “like” the Bible, I will seem godly to others and I need to seem godly to others whether or not I actually am. It strikes me, too, as something Christians do for other Christians to avoid criticism and judgment from said other Christians. If I put the Bible as one of my favorite books, I might be spared judgment of my Christianity.

Nope, you won’t. Christians are as good at judging others as non-Christians, maybe even better. In my experience anyway.

You need to face it: Jesus isn’t impressed if you “like” the Bible on FB or list it as a favorite book. I don’t think it earns you special points or rewards in heaven. Rather like a Jesus fish on a car. Who cares? What eternal difference does it make? Will the Lord say to you, “Well done, good and faithful servant, for taking 2 seconds to ‘like’ my book on FB”? How does it move anyone towards Jesus in a genuine or redemptive way? Will someone accept Jesus as Lord because you “liked” the Bible on your FB page? Not too likely. It’s simply misguided to do these things thinking they make some kind of eternal difference.

And if you’re a parent feeling compelled to do it so your kids can see you do it, I’d say that if your kids can’t see from the way you live and love them that you “like” the Bible, “liking” it on FB won’t make one eensy bit of difference to them — ever. I’m sure there are plenty of Bible-“liking” parents on FB who treat their kids like crap.

I hate this kind of thing. I hate it because it’s cheap virtue. It weighs less than a feather in the scales of eternity. Look at me! Proving my goodness by pressing a button! But I hate it too because it strikes me as so kneejerk and unthinking. Christians who do this don’t think about why they’re actually doing this or what meaning (ahem, zero) it really has. They just do it. These kinds of “likings” that Christians do on FB – and I’ve railed about them before but I’m too lazy and ranting right now to make a link – strike me almost as a form of Christian OCD. Really, they do. I honestly think the Christians who “like” Christian things on FB can’t NOT do it. If they’ve liked XYZ Christian thing on FB, I’d bet the recent Lotto jackpot they wouldnot/couldnot go back to that page and unlike XYZ Christian thing without feeling guilty or in serious eternal trouble.

It’s annoying. And kind of frightening to me, actually.

So I’d like to offer a hypothetical to these Christians:

Let’s say, for example, that JRR Tolkien is your only FB friend. Yes, he’s dead, but for the sake of this example, he’s come back from the dead, he’s not a zombie, he’s your friend in real life and, again, he’s your only FB friend. Given that scenario, would you then “like” his “Lord of the Rings” trilogy or list it among your favorite books on your FB page? Ol’ undead Tolkien is the only one who would see this. Wouldn’t doing that strike you as odd and unnecessary and kinda needy? Since you’re real life friends, wouldn’t he already know your opinion of his books? Don’t you think they would have come up between you at some point? So why would “liking” them be necessary, for your sake or his?

To follow my analogy, if Jesus were your only FB friend, would you “like” the Bible or put it as a favorite book? If those things are true for you – that you like the Bible, that it’s among your favorite books — Jesus already knows that, doesn’t he? If we can agree that that’s the case, it would be completely unnecessary for you to do it then, right? Actually, liking the Bible just for your friend Jesus’s sake strikes me as a bit of an insult to the omniscience of the Lord of the universe. Hm. I’m not suuure Jesus knows this, so I’d better tell him, in case that whole knowing everything dealio is starting to slip.

Really, it shows a lack of faith in his omniscience if you feel the need to state this for his benefit.

Oh ye of little faith!

But if this scenario isn’t true for you, if Jesus isn’t your only FB friend, then for whom are you doing this?

NOT Jesus, who knows it already. Not yourself, because, uhh, you know it already.

That only leaves ….. other people. Right?

Other people, who, frankly, don’t care. I’m sorry, but they really don’t. And if you have a FB friend who actually would confront you about the fact that you haven’t “liked” the Bible yet or listed it as a favorite book, first, you probably go to an FOC church and, second, you need to unfriend said “friend” immediately because life’s too short for that kind of friend and, besides, you have all eternity to love him ….. later, not now.

Come on, FB Christians. Don’t “like” the Bible for a show.

God already knows whether you do or you don’t.

That’s all that matters.

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loving right now

A mish-mash for you. Right now, I am loving ………

This television:

~ The Walking Dead. Yes, okay, a show about zombies. MB and I are watching it on Netflix which means we’re behind and have to wait until God knows when to see the current (or rather, just ended) season. I wonder if it’s odd that I basically emailed my friend Cara a while back telling her, “I watch this show about rotting zombies and think of you” because we both have a weird zombie affinity. Who wouldn’t want a friend to tell her that? It’s a Hallmark sentiment is what it is. Lovely. Seriously, though, loving that show. Yes, it’s kind of gross, which I think means there’s something a bit off about me, but we pretty much knew that already.

~ Smash. You know, I grow weary of the theatre snobs (and I am one) who whine about this show and say, “Oh, but it’s not really like that or this or that.” Of course not and so what? And crime scene investigations aren’t like CSI(s) and doctors aren’t like House and high school isn’t like Glee. These are dramas, fantasies, pretend. Pretend. There are elements of truth in any well-done fiction, but fiction by definition means invention, so it’s difficult for me to understand the pinchiness and snootiness about the show except that it’s pinchiness and snootiness simply for the sake of being pinchy and snooty which I find a total bore. Criticize Smash because it doesn’t work as a show, in your opinion, but don’t criticize it because it’s not “real” enough for you. It’s not reality television (which isn’t “real” either). It’s not a documentary. It’s a TV drama/fantasy and Broadway’s image or success won’t be tarnished by it. Broadway thrives or struggles entirely apart from Smash. Actually, it may even make fans of the show want to see more live theatre. Courtesy of the great Marc Shaiman, Smash has some really wonderful original songs being staged like Broadway musical numbers. I love that the show is doing that because it ups the wow factor. It shows, in small bits, just how great, how thrilling musical theatre can be. Come see us. Here’s a peek at what you get. And what’s wrong with that? I think that’s fantastic for Broadway. I’ve seen so many comments from average viewers saying, “Are they actually ever going to produce this Marilyn musical on Broadway?? I totally want to see it!” — that kind of thing. So how is that a bad thing for Broadway? Don’t poo poo just to poo poo, ya pooers. Frankly, I think Katharine McPhee, who rubbed me a bit wrong as herself on American Idol, is a revelation as someone else in this show. She glows. She soars. That girl is becoming every inch the star. And Megan Hilty as Ivy, her nemesis? Va-va-va-voooom. Sex goddess with a voice to match. Frankly, I don’t care what they’re doing. I don’t care how “real” or “unreal” it is. I am gobbling it up.

This movie:

~ Pearl Fryar, the self-taught topiary artist who singlehandedly transformed not just his own yard but his neighborhood and his little struggling Southern town too. A Man Named Pearl is a must-see documentary. We watched a week ago and just fell in love with him, his spirit, his passion, his sweetness. He had a 3-minute instruction on topiaries at a nursery. That is the extent of his training. What he created from there …… well, it really needs to be seen to be believed. The man is a true artist but a true gentle spirit too — a gentle man and a gentleman. No ego there. Just the pure joy of creation. That’s what pours from him. His topiaries are not elephants and giraffes, either. They’re complex organic shapes created with nothing more complicated than a hedge trimmer. Amazing. It’s one of my favorite things: to see what someone has inside of them made manifest in time and space. This work is what’s inside Pearl Fryar. I loved seeing how his neighbors caught the topiary bug as well, shaping their bushes and hedges and trees into their own little topiary visions with Pearl’s help and tutelage. At one point in the film, he says that is his favorite thing — seeing what others are creating, seeing them catch the spark as well. Now that’s creative generosity. He has no investment in being the “only one” doing this. It’s about the act of creation, not his creative ego. Creativity is meant to be shared, not hoarded, and Pearl openly shares his. He makes his gardens available for viewing 5 days a week. You can give a donation — or not. He’s frequently seen out in his yard, chatting up the tourists who come by, answering their endless questions. During one visit, he even promises one wide-eyed little boy that he can come be his apprentice when he gets a little older. He goes and talks about his work at local colleges to rapt eager students. His work has made him a celebrity and taken his town from Nowheresville, USA to Southern tourist destination, but that doesn’t change Pearl at all. He’s still out in his yard every day, often until after the sun goes down, trimming and shaping and tending to his passion. This is a man whose passion makes him focused but generous too. It’s not something he owns, you see? It’s something bigger than himself and he understands that, so it’s something he gives back easily and with an open hand.

Also, there’s this: Dude was 66 when the movie was made (about 6 years ago) and, well, he’s hot. The local garden club ladies drive up in buses to tour his yard, get out, take a gander at him, and comment on his hotness, flushed and flustered by the nearness of this gentle manly man. It’s hilarious. His wife just rolls his eyes, understanding that in this way, she needs to share him. This whole crazy thing is bigger than both of them, but they take it all in with graciousness and equanimity and good humor. Beautiful people. Beautiful work. A truly inspiring film.

This, on the home front:

~ Banshee Boy dances to the opening refrain of “Under Pressure” (or “Ice, Ice, Baby” — if you must). All it takes to get him going is to hum that opening “do do do dodo do doon” and he’s smiling and, quite literally, shaking his be-diapered booty. He also does a mean march/toddle/kick box to “Happy Jack.” It’s a pretty big kick he’s worked into this routine, and I really don’t know how he doesn’t fall down doing it, but apparently, that kid is alls about the rhythm. He’s crazy for it.

~ He goes to bed with 3 pacifiers. One in his mouth and one in each hand. You can watch him on the video monitor (how do parents get any sleep with that?) and see him sit in his crib, rotating them from hand to mouth in regular succession, until he falls unconscious from the sheer exhaustion of “passy” management.

~ He can’t say Tee Tee yet, so for now, I am Tuh Tuh. As long as this doesn’t morph into Ta Ta — which I can feel a’comin’ — I am fine with it.

Tuh Tuh out.