Consequences
Dan and I went to see An Inconvenient Truth on Monday. As Al Gore says at one point about some of his illustrating video footage, “It’s like a nature walk through the book of Revelation.” There wasn’t anything in the nearly two-hour presentation about global warming that I didn’t know (except how funny Al Gore can be!). That’s what made the movie so compelling. It is time to stop knowing and start doing.
As the movie credits began to role to the background of an original song by Melissa Ethridge, I turned to Dan and asked, “Are we going off the grid now?” Dan said nothing. We’ve been moving that way for awhile anyway. Interspersed with the credits were suggestions for “simple” things to do. We’re doing most of them, and I had a picture of either using the poop from our three dogs (plus one visiting—Ziggy, of last week’s post) and the four cats or of finding a way for them to run on some kind of wheel and generate a little electricity.
We stood up to leave. I turned to Dan and said, “There are going to be consequences, aren’t there?” He said nothing. We got out of the theater. I suggested going to get a beer (walking of course) and talking about the movie. He smiled and said, “Let’s ride bikes.” See, I knew that there would be consequences.
Sometime last fall, Dan got a great deal on three yellow Hummers, which I think is a funny name for a bicycle. We gave one to Charlene’s 10-year-old son, who had outgrown his bike, and kept the other two. Dan has been riding his to work since the weather turned warm. Mine was been sitting in the living room, in the hall, and finally in the shed until the 4th of July when I finally agreed to ride it.
I went to K-Mart, got a helmet, and for the first time in thirty years, I got on a bicycle. I hadn’t forgotten how to ride a bicycle. I rode a bicycle—a blue Schwinn—all over town when I was a kid. I rode with no hands and no helmet. I had just never ridden one with brakes in the handle bars and gears to shift that can’t be shifted unless you are also pedaling. We went to an empty parking lot. As long as I was going up hill I was fine because I was going slow. It was coasting down hill that shook me up.
Monday night, I got on again, whined for awhile, and then for just a few minutes let go and enjoyed the ride. Don’t look for me in the Tour de anything. But who knows, I might ride to work or at least downtown to the movie theaters.
I’ve been working on a sermon on the Mark story about the beheading of John the Baptist. Since the reading from the Hebrew Scripture is the story of David bringing the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem, I’ve been playing with the metaphor of dancing, particularly Herod’s dancing around the truth of John and Jesus like a prize fighter.
I, however, am more likely to approach the dance with the truth of the Gospel just like I ride a bicycle, by paying too much to my feet—or in the case of the bicycle, just holding on so tightly that it’s not my butt or legs that hurt when I am finished. It is my shoulders. What I say every Sunday is that “God loves us. Let’s act like it.” That is as good a summary of the Gospel truth as I can come up. God’s love—which is often an inconvenient truth when I want to live my life by my own terms—has consequences. Good consequences. Good consequences when I am able to let go of myself and enjoy the ride—or Rick—the nap.
As the movie credits began to role to the background of an original song by Melissa Ethridge, I turned to Dan and asked, “Are we going off the grid now?” Dan said nothing. We’ve been moving that way for awhile anyway. Interspersed with the credits were suggestions for “simple” things to do. We’re doing most of them, and I had a picture of either using the poop from our three dogs (plus one visiting—Ziggy, of last week’s post) and the four cats or of finding a way for them to run on some kind of wheel and generate a little electricity.
We stood up to leave. I turned to Dan and said, “There are going to be consequences, aren’t there?” He said nothing. We got out of the theater. I suggested going to get a beer (walking of course) and talking about the movie. He smiled and said, “Let’s ride bikes.” See, I knew that there would be consequences.
Sometime last fall, Dan got a great deal on three yellow Hummers, which I think is a funny name for a bicycle. We gave one to Charlene’s 10-year-old son, who had outgrown his bike, and kept the other two. Dan has been riding his to work since the weather turned warm. Mine was been sitting in the living room, in the hall, and finally in the shed until the 4th of July when I finally agreed to ride it.
I went to K-Mart, got a helmet, and for the first time in thirty years, I got on a bicycle. I hadn’t forgotten how to ride a bicycle. I rode a bicycle—a blue Schwinn—all over town when I was a kid. I rode with no hands and no helmet. I had just never ridden one with brakes in the handle bars and gears to shift that can’t be shifted unless you are also pedaling. We went to an empty parking lot. As long as I was going up hill I was fine because I was going slow. It was coasting down hill that shook me up.
Monday night, I got on again, whined for awhile, and then for just a few minutes let go and enjoyed the ride. Don’t look for me in the Tour de anything. But who knows, I might ride to work or at least downtown to the movie theaters.
I’ve been working on a sermon on the Mark story about the beheading of John the Baptist. Since the reading from the Hebrew Scripture is the story of David bringing the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem, I’ve been playing with the metaphor of dancing, particularly Herod’s dancing around the truth of John and Jesus like a prize fighter.
I, however, am more likely to approach the dance with the truth of the Gospel just like I ride a bicycle, by paying too much to my feet—or in the case of the bicycle, just holding on so tightly that it’s not my butt or legs that hurt when I am finished. It is my shoulders. What I say every Sunday is that “God loves us. Let’s act like it.” That is as good a summary of the Gospel truth as I can come up. God’s love—which is often an inconvenient truth when I want to live my life by my own terms—has consequences. Good consequences. Good consequences when I am able to let go of myself and enjoy the ride—or Rick—the nap.
posted by Theologic Al at 9:05 PM
1 Comments:
Lynn,
I am arguing from ignorance—not a surprise to anyone who knows me. This time, however, I am admitting it.
The earth is warming, the evidence is clear. So-called “greenhouse gases” (an interesting term with an interesting etymology) are a contributory factor. Humankind has a role in this, but no one is quite certain how great a role. Am I right (even) so far?
Questions. Repair my ignorance.
First, what warmed the earth before and during the time of the dinosaurs? I am assuming there were dinosaurs; we don’t have a fossil record put there by God in 4004 BC to confuse us.
Why is Venus warming? There are no humans there making a planetary greenhouse.
I guess that’s it. I don’t know even enough to formulate a third question and make a more satisfying whole.
And, I was going to post this; but it’s not worth a post. So I’ll have to write something else. I’ll do that soon. I promise.
Rick
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