Napoleon Bonaparte on Jesus Christ

 Napoleon Bonaparte on Jesus Christ:

"Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne and I myself have founded great empires; but upon what did these creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions will die for Him. ... I think I understand something of human nature; and I tell you, all these were men, and I am a man: none else is like Him; Jesus Christ was more than a man.

The Coliseum and the Seduction of Sin (or: Alypius and Us)

“When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.' When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first.”
Luke 11:24-26 

In his book Confessions, St. Augustine tells the story of his friend, Alypius, who later became a Church bishop in Africa. Alypus, a young man drawn and enticed by the blood-lust of the gladiator games in Rome, had quickly become addicted to the violent sights and sounds and smells of the coliseum. Augustine, although not yet a Christian, was against the gladiator games, but he did not wish to challenge his young friend in the matter for fear of straining their relationship. However, through some impromptu remarks in a lecture, God used Augustine to convict the young Alypus of his error and turn him away from the games, resolute to forsake them at once and for all. 

The alarming part of this story is what comes next. The lure of the blood sport had not entirely left poor Alypius. Augustine recalls in his confession to God:

"He had gone on to Rome before me to study law - which was the worldly way which his parents were forever urging him to pursue - and there he was carried away again with an incredible passion for the gladiatorial shows. For, although he had been utterly opposed to such spectacles and detested them, one day he met by chance a company of his acquiantances and fellow students returning from dinner; and, with a friendly violence, they drew him, resisting and objecting vehemently, into the amphitheater, on a day of those cruel and murderous shows. He protested to them: 'Though you drag my body to that place and set me down there, you cannot force me to give my mind or lend my eyes to these shows. Thus I will be absent while present, and so overcome both you and them.' 

Nothing Is As Good As It Seems?

What makes a good thing good?

If I love my wife and kids, is this love simply due to chemicals in my brain? If I show compassion to someone in need, is this kindness merely the chance result of an evolutionary trait which helped our species to survive? If we answer the questions affirmatively, we must be prepared to say that there is nothing inherently good about loving our families and showing compassion to those in need. It's not that scientific explanations are necessarily wrong; it's that they are in themselves insufficient to account for goodness. At best then, all acts of love and compassion are neutral, being simply cause and effect, actions no different than a soda fizzing over when shaken. At worst, phenomena such as love and compassion are "good" if they help us personally and "bad" if they don't, a definition which prompts the question of whether we're even still talking about true love and true compassion. If you react against this kind of utilitarian use of "love" and "compassion" for one's own personal ends, perhaps it would be helpful to consider what your negative feelings are based upon.

Kept

I don't recall breathing
Today or the first time.
My heart went on beating
Without a bat of my eye.
I must have blinked.

All the while, You
Kept me together,
Every atom
Pulsing with life more alive
Than breath and blood
Blowing through my being
Like the Spirit, where it pleases.
I have no say
And did not then see
All that is not contingent
Upon me.

"O my God, even then Thou wast my keeper."
- St. Augustine

The Perpetual Novelty

"God alone is the perpetual novelty."
- Ravi Zacharias

I have a tendency to be impulsive. I get an idea, and then I obsess over that idea until I act upon it or am absolutely prevented from acting upon it. This practice works well when I have a really good idea. The problem is that not all of my ideas are really good.

For example, I once visited a local music store in Tennessee about the same time I started listening to the bluegrass band, Nickel Creek. Inspired by Sara Watkins, I decided that my life was not complete until I owned a fiddle. Katie was not convinced that I needed to purchase a fiddle right at that moment, so I waited and bought one online as soon as we got back home to Alabama. I can't remember which lasted longer after that, playing the fiddle or paying for the fiddle. I still have the instrument though, and maybe one day I'll get the impulse to pick it up again.

The Most Important Thing About My Life: Thoughts on Turning 33

Today I am 33 years old.

Perhaps there is nothing particularly special about being 33. The ability to drive a car has long since lost its novelty. I have endured enough long lines to know that while democracy is a privilege, it is not always enjoyable. I already can drink alcoholic beverages if I want to, and it's too late to act like that's a big deal. And fortunately, I have a few more birthdays until I'm "over the hill," whatever that means.

But for me, there is something more special about this birthday than every one of the typical milestone birthdays. For me, there is quite a significance in turning 33 years old. As far as we know, this is the age at which Jesus Christ was crucified. I am now the age Jesus was when He laid down His perfect life for my sinful life and reconciled me to God.

The Other Side of the Mountain: Solitude vs. Isolation

Jesus went up the mountain alone. He climbed among the crags and trekked beyond the trails in search of solitude. Here the noisy and needy crowds would not follow. Here no one would find Him. Here there is momentary rest. He sits down upon a lofty ledge and slowly inhales the mountain air. Alone at last. He closes His eyes and exhales the very breath of God. Jesus is alone with His Father.

This was not the first time Jesus had sought a solitary place to worship and pray. He had often come privately to the mountainside, and He had just recently spent forty days in the wilderness apart from any human company. It seems clear that these habitual times of solitude were important in the life and ministry of Jesus. And many of His followers have learned from their Teacher the value of solitude in the Christian life. Most of us are at least familiar with the practice of a "quiet time." It is indeed very good to be alone with God.

But Jesus did not stay on the mountain. He did not build a cabin. He did not become a hermit. He did not forsake the crowds for a cloud. He always came down from the mountain and lived among the people once again. In fact, this time He climbs down from the cliffs with a certain twelve of the people on His mind. In just a moment, He will call the Twelve by name, and they will come to Him. On the mountain Jesus chooses solitude. Here in the valley, Jesus chooses His new family. He is most certainly choosing not to be alone. Jesus knows it is not good to live in isolation.