People tell me they could never believe in a God who ______ (insert least favorite divine attribute). Apparently, they’re under the assumption that God cares what they think. That He ought to ask them which of His attributes they find acceptable and then scrap the ones that aren’t. An amusing concept, no? And guess who’s going to have the last laugh? “He who sits in the heavens shall laugh; the LORD shall hold them in derision.” (Psa. 2:4)
People tell me that where there’s a will, there’s a way. I’m not so sure. Willing myself to stay airborne after jumping off the Empire State Building isn’t going to keep my carcass intact when it hits the pavement. They’ll be scraping me off Fifth Avenue with a putty-knife
People tell me the universe is meaningless. And that puzzles me. Because if the universe is meaningless, how did they find out that it’s meaningless? Reminds me of something Lewis once wrote: “If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.”
People tell me that those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. I don’t live in a glass house, but I do like to throw stones – at other people’s glass houses.
People tell me it’s crazy to believe that God created the world. These are the same people, mind you, who believe that the world came into existence through a cosmic explosion. A Big Bang. Their best and brightest think Michael Bay had something to do with it.
People tell me that reading fiction isn’t worthwhile. “I only have time for the truth,” they say, and it’s easy to see that they think very highly of this slipshod reasoning. Frankly, I’m not sure how to respond. Do I offer them an explanation? Do I laugh? Do I tell them to go away and grow up? Or do I unleash my inner Hulk and render them incapable of further stupidity?
People tell me not to count my chickens before they hatch. But I have no choice. I’m making breakfast, and I have to make sure I scramble the right number of eggs.
People tell me everyone deserves a second chance. Which makes me wonder what they’ve been drinking, because that really makes no sense. Giving someone a second chance is giving them grace. And nobody “deserves” that. The two words don’t belong in the same sentence together. For that matter (as my pastor so wisely pointed out), it’s only by grace – God’s grace – that we get a first chance. And it’s only by God’s grace that we get it right. “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.” (Eph. 2:8-9)
People tell me the early bird gets the worm. I beg to differ. The early bird doesn’t get anything if I shoot him from my bedroom window.
People also tell me I’ve got a dark, twisted sense of humor. To which I say, Drop dead.