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March 24, 2008
Cancellation in
mathematics was always fun for me, a time when one could rid oneself
of numbers instead of being required to create new ones out of sums
and quotients.
I was especially
grateful that cancellation was useful in the division and
multiplication of fractions. Imagine that a teacher, who heretofore
had made me account for every number written in my math problems, now
gave me permission to strike through numbers, no matter how large,
canceling out any number that appeared both above and below the line.
As I reflect on
Senator Obama’s Pennsylvania speech, explaining his relationship with
Rev. Jeremiah Wright and their separate views on race relations, I
find myself flinching. While I trust that his heart wants to repair
the harm done by hateful sermons, I feel Obama is relying on the human
cancellation theory, failing to ultimately offer us a solution for
bringing Americans together across the vast divide.
Certainly Obama
is not alone. The Human Cancellation Theory has been around since
Genesis.
Applied to human
behavior, applied singularly to human bad behavior, this cancellation
theory requires you to forgive…lets me off the hook…absolves me of my
misdeeds…leaving me with the same gleeful feelings I used to get from
striking through numbers in math. There are two functions to this
human cancellation theory.
I did something
bad, I did something good: my good cancels my bad.
I did something
bad, you did something bad: your bad cancels my bad.
Obama’s speech,
trying to pave a way of understanding and forgiveness for his pastor,
relied on them both.
Yes, Rev. Wright
said some hateful, spiteful things. But, on the other side of the
line, he has created programs serving the hungry. Cancelled.
Yes, Rev. Wright
has spurred others to revile their brothers and sisters on the basis
of skin color, but on the other side of the line, so did Obama’s
grandmother. Cancelled.
No time is more
important than Easter Sunday for considering reconciliation of human
relationships. The good news is that there is a path to canceling our
bad deeds. But it is not as we, as mere humans, would devise it.
As we
mathematically consider our actions, both good and bad, we are
inclined to divide the impact of our sins while multiplying the sins
of others. From the human perspective, reflecting on our own
condition, we use human math to calculate the cost of our sins as
forgivable…and cancelled…while those of our foes multiply on into
infinity.
One pastor
suggested this human math is like looking down on two people trying to
jump to forgiveness and salvation across the Grand Canyon. From the
edge of the canyon, I might leap out six feet. An Olympic star might
make it 30. But we both will fail in the end. Six feet, or thirty,
both attempts are woefully inadequate.
Obama’s speech
this week dealt with a problem that, if relying on one single human
serving as president, will be unsolvable. While we all want race
problems to go away, we know they are founded on human relationship
problems that have existed since Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel.
To be fair, we
are expecting Obama to do the impossible. Yes, he has encouraged us
to believe he is the savior who will lead us to the impossible dream
of reconciliation and peace. For our part, we have bought into his
promises because we wanted to. It seems the easier path. But
relying on human math, we are all doomed to fail.
Peace that comes
through a true cancellation of sin comes at a price. For Christians,
we were bought at a price, a price freely paid on the cross,
offering the cancellation we hope for…the cancellation we need…that
when freely given and freely received, brings love, brings
reconciliation, brings life everlasting. If there’s a message worth
sitting in a pew for twenty years to absorb, this is it.
Happy Easter.
He is risen. He has risen indeed.
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December 26, 2005
Small Acts of Courage
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