And the Oscar goes to...

I wrote this essay on February 15, 2007. I post today it in view of the statuette awarded last night to Algore's "An Inconvenient Truth".

Moths on icecaps turning white? No, that’s not it. Polar bears hiding in trees? No, that doesn’t seem right. Could it be moths turning gray on polluted tree bark and polar bears forgetting how to swim when ice melts?

Which is it? It’s none of the above.

The dead, painted moths glued to trees are no different from the polar bears “trapped on a melting-before-our-very-eyes iceberg” in the fact that both are fiction.

The moth deception has come and gone. But, like nature, science abhors a vacuum. So, while one story was manufactured to “prove” evolution, the more recent was crafted to “prove” global warming. Oddly enough, the new story leaves evolution lying dead by the side of the road.

You see, they say it got warmer so the polar bears are smaller and more lean than before. But, they also say this is a bad thing. It seems to me, the bears are simply adapting to environmental changes. However, instead of taking the “I-told-you-so” opportunity that this provided, science sounded the global warming alarm by showing us these “helpless” little bears stranded on a melting iceberg. The fact is, the bears were playing on an ice floe, shaped by the waves of the Artic Ocean. Less than stranded, these playful (and apparently healthy) bears had swum a fair distance to reach the photo op.

After all these years of science’s failure to create the long-promised working model of evolution in the laboratory, one would think scientists the world over would welcome “massive climate change” as an opportunity to finally put evolutionary theory to the test. After all these years of despotic scientific proclamations that refused to hear any voice but their own, they have a golden opportunity to be vindicated. But, instead, they toss their once proud god of evolution by the way side to drink from a more intoxicating fount: global warming.

Or, I guess it could be that science has moved into pantheism. Can they really cast off evolution so quickly or completely? After all, it’s been a good god. Dictating everything yet saying nothing (so as not to confirm or deny its own existence). Evolution is the kind of god most people are looking for. It has been the great, galactic sugar daddy, providing everything and demanding nothing—except rigid lockstep.

I wonder what will come of it, this pantheistic battle between a god that has served science so well and the newer, younger model. The global warming bells and wringing hands tell me evolution may be in its final melt down. Or, maybe (if they are linear at all) when it comes to global warming, nothing adapts. Maybe everything in nature is as fat and lazy as the average mid-day TV watcher. Or, perhaps, deep inside, they know none of us are “the fittest”…

At the end of another record-low February day, the only thing about all of this science that I know for sure, is that none of it is scientific.

Ash Wednesday

"…from dust you are and to dust you will return" —Genesis 3:19

Today marks the beginning of the Holy season of Lent. A time to remember where we come from and to Whom we belong. A time to trade activity, even ministry, for time to truly dwell in solitude with God.

Ash Wednesday, the day marking 40 days prior to Resurrection Sunday, is set aside for self-denial, sober self-evaluation and spiritual renewal. It's a practice that I began to observe about 5 years ago when my husband and I began attending First Presbyterian Church, Tulsa. I am so grateful to have this tradition in my spiritual practice now. It makes the joy of Resurrection day all the more intense and sweet. After 40 days of confession and naming those things in my life that live in the darkest, most secret places; laying bare my deepest needs in Christ's presence; and observing austerity in my diet make the feast of Resurrection Day more than just another big meal. The day itself becomes a feast. All of my senses are more alive and ready for the resurrection we celebrate. I have come to understand many Christians have lost the ability to truly feast because we never take the time to truly fast.

I encourage you to observe Lent this season. There is no magic formula or set of actions. (It won't make you Catholic.) Really, it's more about stopping than doing. Stop doing something and replace that activity with time to be alone with God. Make time for solitude. That's it.

In addition, you can choose to study or use the time to learn a new spiritual discipline. Commit these 40 days to read through Psalms. Fast from media and read a Christian classic like Orthodoxy by GK Chesterton or Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Read about Christ's baptisim and time in the wilderness (Matthew 3:13-17 and 4:1-11) until you can recite it in your mind's eye. Then, insert yourself as a bystander or as one of the people in the text. Let your imagination and the Holy Spirit take you deeper into Scripture and Christ's experience in the wilderness. Explore the subject of prayer or Lectio Divina. Or, choose a fast.

Tonight, I will join Christian worshipers throughout the world in observance of this holy day. I will confess sin and repent. I will celebrate communion. I will receive a cross of ashes on my forehead. I will pray. I will begin a personal journey with my Master through this season. And I will look forward to Resurrection Day!

The following is a prayer of confession written by one of the pastors from my home church, First Presbyterian Church, Tulsa, OK. It seems a fitting prayer for today.

Merciful Father, we confess that we are a fearful people. Anxious and worried about many things, our lives are constricted, sometimes defined by our fears. Yet you call us by name, promise us Your abiding presence, and declare us to be redeemed.
Alas, our fear often reflects a stubborn lack of trust and faith in You. Forgive us dear LORD, and grant us a fervent embrace of Your promises, that we might live with a reckless confidence and offer faithful and daring service to the Master, even Jesus, our LORD. Amen.