Saturday, April 29, 2006

Tattoo you...and you and you and you..

I've been thinking about getting a tattoo for years. I've been talking about it enough that I've socialized the message to my wife, and I think she's OK with it if I trip the hammer, but even as I typed those words I've realized how little prayer I've devoted to the topic. Why should I even pray about it at all, and as Phil Knight would say; just do it? Indeed, tattoos are growing in popularity among Christians.

There is much controversy though about Christians having tattoos, primarily stemming from Leviticus 19:28:

Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves. I am the LORD.
Wayne Jackson has written a balanced article in the Christian Courier that I have copied and posted here verbatim:

One must be very careful about trying to use Old Testament passages as proof-texts for what one may or may not practice in the Christian age. It is a fundamental aspect of Bible doctrine that the Mosaic system was abrogated by the death of Christ (Eph. 2:14ff; Col. 2:14ff). The law of Moses, therefore, is not the Christian’s standard by which to measure conduct.

The following observations are in order:

  1. This same chapter (Leviticus 19) also provides instruction for appropriate
    conduct in conjunction with offering animal sacrifices.
  2. It requires leaving certain portions of one’s crops unharvested (in the interest of the poor).
  3. The sowing of two types of seed in the same field is prohibited.
  4. The Hebrews were not to wear a garment with two different fabrics combined
    (e.g., wool and linen).
  5. When new fruit trees were planted, none of the fruit was to be eaten for the
    first three years. There are restrictions about how the man’s hair was to be cut, and the manner in which his beard might not be trimmed.
  6. Keeping the Sabbath is enjoined, etc.
Why should we focus on one of these injunctions to the exclusion of the others? The immediate context of Leviticus 19:27-28 suggests that Moses was attempting to inoculate Israel against the emulation of certain heathen practices related to idolatry. For example, the prophet forbids “cutting the flesh” in the passage under consideration; yet no one contends that medical surgery is being condemned. Rather, “cuttings” in the flesh “for the dead” are in view (cf. also 1 Kgs. 18:28). This was an idolatrous practice.

Ancient archaeological evidence indicates that some of the Canaanites would tattoo themselves with the names or symbols of their favorite “gods.” This appears to be what the prophet is condemning, not the modern custom of “esthetic” tattooing - regardless of how distasteful such a practice may be to many people.

Since the New Testament does not address the issue of tattooing specifically, one must be guided by principle. Any practice that is vulgar, gaudy, or a distraction to one’s Christian influence should be avoided. But, to some extent, this is a matter of taste and judgment.

No one can presume to prescribe conduct for everyone else in matters of this nature. Is it appropriate for women to wear make-up? How about permanent eye-liner? May men and women adorn themselves with jewelry? May they pierce their ears?

Christians must attempt to employ sound judgment in such matters, and give no occasion to the adversary for reviling (1 Tim. 5:14). Moreover, a Christian’s personal privacy and right of choice must be respected in ambiguous areas of judgment. This is the most a wise Bible instructor can say.

Well, what is my motivation for wanting a tattoo? At first, I wanted one to be cool - to fit in. I really dug those tribal tattoos that I see around biceps. However, due to the large size of my biceps it would probably be impractical and non-cost effective. One time in the gym, I flexed my guns and the sudden expansion of the muscle caused a mini-shock wave as the air was displaced by my biceps. A young teenage kid was knocked aside, and a mirror on the wall cracked. And if you believe that I've got this great bridge, hardly used that I'll sell ya!

OK, seriously though I've realized, that like all things; tribal patterns will gradually be out of style (I think back to the 70's where I wore enormous bell bottom jeans and waffle stompers. Oh wait, they're coming back into style). Having said that though here's a tat that I like:



This one is probably a little too extravagant for my taste:


And this one is over the top (Latin for Father, Son and Holy Spirit):

As I think about tattoos about a cross, I'm reminded of one of my Bible College professors who had strong feelings about the cross. Rather than seeing it as an identification of our union with Christ, he viewed it as a symbol of death by execution. He would say (not in a self righteous way) that we may as just tattoo electric chairs on our chests. I often think though of Paul's confession that he had been "crucified with Christ, it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me..(2 Cor 5:17). Therefore, it would be with great humility and recognition that I ever would have a cross tattoo. Hmmm - I wonder what Jesus thinks about all his children marking their bodies with the instrument of a terrifying and excruciating death?

Well, on a lighter side there are two other tattoos that I am considering. One would be a biceps tattoo similar to one I saw at a race years ago. This guy had an elegant triathlon tattoo of athletes swimming, running and biking around his bicep. I kind of like that, and have thought of starting it with one set, and then for each triathlon I do adding another. At two -three triathlons a year at the most at 48 years old I don't envision running out of biceps soon!

Related to that, when I do a triathlon I take off my wedding ring. Sometimes early in the morning that water can be cold and even with a wetsuit on cause a little, shall we say; shrinkage. Often my fingers contract and the ring becomes vulnerable to being lost at the bottom of a lake or river. It's weird though, I don't feel right without my ring on, that's the way I say to the world "someone loves me and has chosen me". I'm thinking that under the ring I could carry a small tattoo on my ring finger that simply says "Sherry".

Well, those are my thoughts. Will I get a tattoo? Dunno!

Public Office, Private Problems, Public Penalties

Well, maybe not public office in the sense of an elected official. Front page stories in the Portland Oregonian this morning included updates to the sad saga of Teresa Kaiser, who "resigned" from the Oregon Liquor Control Commission after being charged with drunk driving.

An embarrassed Oregon Liquor Control Commission appointed a new acting director Friday following the arrest of the agency's executive director in connection with a drunken-driving crash. Steve Pharo, director of the OLCC's distilled spirits program, will head the agency while the commission searches for a permanent replacement for Teresa L. Kaiser.

Kaiser submitted her resignation Wednesday after commissioners learned Portland police had arrested her on suspicion of driving under the influence and reckless driving Saturday night following a two-car crash. Police said a breath test showed her blood alcohol level was 0.16, twice the legal limit for adults. Her resignation is effective May 15.

Although there is such a rich vein of schadenfreudian irony to mine here, the bottom line is that it really does sadden me. Look at Proverbs 23:30-34 from the Message:

It's those who spend the night with a bottle, for whom drinking is serious business. Don't judge wine by its label, or its bouquet, or its full-bodied flavor. Judge it rather by the hangover it leaves you with-- the splitting headache, the queasy stomach. Do you really prefer seeing double, with your speech all slurred, Reeling and seasick, drunk as a sailor?


Well Teresa, but for the grace of God go I; and I'm sure many others. I doubt you'll ever read this but I paulsed and said a prayer for you, and I hope you get the help you need.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

The grounds for a good day

Here in the northwest (I live in Tigard OR which is a suburb of Portland) we take our coffee very, very seriously. There's even an unsubstantiated rumor that there is a Starbucks in the Seattle area that is so large, it has a Starbucks kiosk inside of it. Wow.


It's not uncommon to hear something like the above cartoon expressed in a line at SBUX. In fact, recently I went in and ordered my usual: venti rasperry mocha extra shot extra hot no whip no foam. It's fun to just rattle this off as fast as a duck on a June bug and know that the barista is already halfway done with the drink. I threw a twist though, in this instance I added a blueberry scone. Well, there was some confusion with the clerk and I almost ended up with a no whip, extra hot raspberry scone and a blueberry mocha with an extra shot. But we worked it out.

Then, a few days later I was in a non-SBUX coffee shop and was standing in such a position that I could view the register display. The clerk was baffled and as I glanced over I saw this error message displayed to her:

Bad flow

Hmm - makes you rethink the whole coffee thing, doesn't it?

Well, the funniest thing happened when Sherry and I went through a drive through - Sherry looked at the menu and they had an item listed as a "Peppermint Patty". Sherry asked what that was and the clerk responded that it was a mocha with peppermint flavor. Sherry replied that that sounded really good, and could she have one without the chocolate? The clerk was a little confused and said "so, you want a peppermint latte?". Sherry said "no, I want a peppermint mocha but with no chocolate". The clerk looked at me, I looked at Sherry, and we all decided that Sherry would have a peppermint mocha but with no chocolate.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Joke of the Week

In the mid-eighties I once went to lunch with Tyler. Tyler was the epitome of cool, there was no one cooler than Tyler. He dressed in all black even before black was the new black. We went to some fast food joint and his tab was $3.34. He tossed a ten dollar bill on the counter, and the clerk counted out his change - six dollars and sixty six cents. Tyler was chillin' with his sunglasses on, black jeans, black shirt and black coat. The clerk started getting a little freaked out thinking he might have been the Antichrist.

Tyler was a lot of things, but the Antichrist wasn't one of them (as far as I know). He even came to the church I went to at the time, where worship was quite demonstrative. As everyone raised their hands in worship, Tyler stuck his hands straight up in the air like he was being robbed and looked around. I miss that guy. Anyway, for all you Left Behind fans out there:

"So, what's the significance of apartment 667 over there?" "That's the neighbor of the beast." "The neighbor of the beast?" "Yeah, sometimes he gets the beast's mail."

Still laughing out loud!

Pitiful, pathetic Christians - Happy Easter!

It comes down to this - I have staked my entire life - poured time and money into a theology degree and delaying a business degree, given much of my hard earned resources to the church I belong to, longed many times while being in a church service, performing a wedding, doing counseling, etc - when I really wanted to be riding my bike. I don't indulge myself in pity, and neither do I mention this to incur sympathy from you, gentle reader. Indeed, I do it cheerfully - hoping that one day I will hear these words, not in time, but in eternity: "well done, good and faithful servant - enter into the rest that I have prepared for you"

But what if I have done all this for a lie? Virtually all scholars, even those who do not profess Christianity and indeed those who are anti-Christian; admit that Jesus was a real man who lived, taught and had amazing influence in Palestine. But, what if He didn't really rise from the dead? What if He wasn't God after all? I like what Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15 (NLT):

Now let me remind you, dear brothers and sisters, of the Good News I preached to you before. You welcomed it then and still do now, for your faith is built on this wonderful message. And it is this Good News that saves you if you firmly believe it--unless, of course, you believed something that was never true in the first place.

I passed on to you what was most important and what had also been passed on to me--that Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and he was raised from the dead on the third day, as the Scriptures said. He was seen by Peter and then by the twelve apostles. After that, he was seen by more than five hundred of his followers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died by now. Then he was seen by James and later by all the apostles. Last of all, I saw him, too, long after the others, as though I had been born at the wrong time. For I am the least of all the apostles, and I am not worthy to be called an apostle after the way I persecuted the church of God.

But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his special favor on me--and not without results. For I have worked harder than all the other apostles, yet it was not I but God who was working through me by his grace. So it makes no difference whether I preach or they preach. The important thing is that you believed what we preached to you.

But tell me this--since we preach that Christ rose from the dead, why are some of you saying there will be no resurrection of the dead? For if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ was not raised, then all our preaching is useless, and your trust in God is useless. And we apostles would all be lying about God, for we have said that God raised Christ from the grave, but that can't be true if there is no resurrection of the dead. If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless, and you are still under condemnation for your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ have perished! And if we have hope in Christ only for this life, we are the most miserable people in the world.

But the fact is that Christ has been raised from the dead. He has become the first of a great harvest of those who will be raised to life again.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

I'm gonna kick your a$$ for God...

Caution! This post will probably offend someone. Get over it!

In I Corinthians 9:22 Paul states that "I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some.". There's been some interesting interpretations of that verse over the years to justify all kinds of activity but here's one I didn't see coming - professional wrestling for Jesus. Over here you can see the likes of Jesse "War Daddy" Stone, who's finishing move is appropriately called "the apocalyptic clutch."




Our local newspaper, the Portland Oregonian, reports that many such organizations are springing up all over, and a simple Google search brings up these fine individuals laying their lives on the line and going to the mat for the sake of the Gospel:


  1. The Sermonater
  2. The Ouchbishop
  3. Painin' Abel
  4. John the Whaptist
  5. Stone Cold Moses
  6. The Bible Thumper
  7. Beelzebubba
  8. Butterbean the Baptizer
  9. The Abrahammer
  10. Jerry Brawlwell
  11. Yeeeoow!weh
  12. Clouting Thomas
  13. The Beatitudinator
  14. Mary Manglin'
  15. Apostle Creed
  16. Wrathsheeba
  17. The Ecclesiasskicker
  18. The Bad Samaratin
  19. Thomas the Tribulator
  20. Jesus, that Hurt
My favorite is "John the Whaptist". If only I was making this stuff up.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

When up on the rooftop...

...there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. Along with 30 of my coworkers on the second floor. We work in a three story building, and the stairwell is always a highly trafficked area as we run up and down the floors. The stairwell is barren, concrete and every noise carrys.

One day, we heard an enormous crash, followed by high pitched chiming and ringing that went for probably another 5-10 seconds. Wow! Everyone was running around, and then it hit me - I knew exactly what happened.

I used to work as an automotive machinist, and every Tuesday the Snap-On tool truck would pull into our parking lot. Like kids to an ice cream truck, we would abandon adulthood and run squealing to look at the bright shiny tools. And he let us purchase on credit! Well, in my career I had dropped many a wrench on a concrete floor. That bright, ringing sound told me two things - that I had dropped my wrench, and by golly it was a professional, worthy tool. Take a look at this picture comparing two wrenches - yeah, the one on top might produce a chirply little ring, but that Snap-On wrench below - oh, it's gonna sing the music of angels:


Well, my supicions were correct - a maintenance worker was lifting a heavy toolbox up onto the roof from the third floor access panel, and dropped that toolbox about 12 feet where it burst open on the landing, and the wrenches danced their way down the stairs like a chrome waterfall. Wish I could have seen it!!

Time - a child's perspective

Our neighbors have a little boy who is adorable. Sherry and I have a rule we call the "First Kid Principle", or FKP for short. What this means is that the first kid in our neighborhood who hits us up for the class fundraiser - he/she gets the dough, and then we politely deny the other requests (we once had a kid camp on our doorstep for three weeks, you would have thought he was in line for U2 tickets - just kidding). Well, in this case I get the dough because that's what Riley was promoting - cookie dough.

As I was writing the check, I asked Riley how school was going. "Fine", he replied. I then asked when he was finished with school. In my adult mind I'm thinking he is on a countdown, such as 4 weeks or 5 weeks or something like that. He looked at me with his big eyes, and said in all seriousness:

"Not until I'm in the fourth grade"


Riley, I know that it can't come quick enough! Hang in there buddy.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

The Consequences of Ego

Ego. Such a little word, such big consequences.

I don't know why, but when I run, I can't just run; run if I see another runner. I must compete. I must beat them. I must conquer them unmercifully, reducing said runner to an abject object devoid of human value clinging to the despair of the only thing they have left in life - their defeat at my ruthless, Machiavellian, super-human display of fitness.

That's how my world is supposed to work. The reality is that it is usually I who have been reduced to an insecure, fragile, limping, gasping de-evolutionized remnant of the human race (pun intended, get it - race?).

Here's an example. Please take a few moments to examine this picture and then we'll discuss and interpret the sequence of events:


The red line represents my route, going north on SW 81st. I'm near the end of my run, I've pushed myself, I'm wheezing with a touch of asthma, but I'm going to finish good. For me. Which means I'm not going to die, at least not today.

As I approached SW Ross, a runner maybe 20 years my junior (I'm 48, she looked to in her 20's) turned left in front of me. She is represented by the blue line.

I kept my pace, she kept hers; and it was clear that I was gaining on her and would shortly pass her. All of a sudden, she threw down! What! This is just a Saturday morning run for crying out loud. But no, she clearly challenged me. Well, bring it on sister.

I picked my pace, and like a Indy car gathering speed the mitochondria kicked in, lactic acid was put on hold; and my body became a Kreb's cycle machine. Deep, satisfying breaths filled the lungs with a power source like avaiation gas in a top fuel dragster. I strode out, my powerful legs kicking up chunks of asphalt as the constraints of a physical universe began to wane under my dominion. As I ran, a noise like a machine gun filled the air. Puzzled for a moment, I realized that the air displaced by my expanding calves was creating small, subsonic shock waves - bangbangbangbangbangbang.

I knew within a few moments she would be in shock and awe of my athletic prowess. Suddenly, a new threat emerged - around the corner from 80th ave 3-4 sauntering teenage boys turned onto 81st (represented by the olive arrow). Now, I was beginning to fade just a bit from my energy expenditure to pass the runner. But, faced with teenage boys there was no way I could back off.

I stretched my powerful pectoral muscles and plunged into the wind. Like the bow of an aircraft carrier moving the ocean aside, the air parted before me not unlike the ripples you would see in the water. The green X then represents the convergence of events, where I passed the runner and the teenagers passed me.

Gentle reader, that's the fantasy I had in my mind. In reality, if we cut to the skycam; it probably went something like this:

Announcer 1 "Gene, what is that guy doing? A middle aged runner, belly swinging back and forth as he's trying to pass that gal who could squash him in a seconed?". Announcer 2 - "Well Tony, not only that but look at him gasping for breath - he's an asthma attack on wheels!" Announcer 1 - "look at him now! The emergence of those teenagers is making him crazy - I think he's trying to impress them!". Announcer 2 - "this doesn't look good at all - should I call 911 now?"
Yeah, it was pathetic. Thankfully though, I had an ace up my sleeve - the last corner to my house was coming up. If I just made it around the corner, I could slow to a walk and hopefully she would not witness my dismal appearance. I got to the corner still pumping hard, rounded the corner, and almost threw up.

But I beat her.