Jason Dollar . Net

In the Creek

When I was a boy (as most boys do or want to do) – perhaps as young as 7 – I played in any body of water within reach even if it was a mud puddle.

Why? I’m not sure. For my friends and I there was a magnetic attraction that was impossible to deny or resist (much like God’s grace). Creeks meant freedom and fun, two concepts often found as fellows.

When my family lived in Reece City, AL (outside of Gadsden), there was a creek that ran close by my yard. It was (and still is as far as I know) a bit dark and snaky. There were critters and small fish all about. It was muddy and mucky water. There was a large tree on the bank and my friends and I, obviously because of our superior intellects, climbed this tree and jumped out of it into the 4-feet or so of water.

One of my friends was brave (stupid) enough to climb up extremely high into that tree and dive off into the shallow water. As I recall the murky water was blended with crimson blood there for a moment or two.

My parents were nowhere in sight and nobody else’s were either. We might have needed them to call an ambulance, but we never did and they never did. I realize that this is not always the case with pre-teen boys playing in dark creeks. So I do not want to pretend like we should let our children run and do whatever they want whenever they want. Nor am I naive to the realities of child predators who take their sin natures to an extreme, snatching away youthfulness and innocence.

That said, today I went outside to find Noah (nearly 10) who had been outside awhile. I was just curious as to his location and safety status. As I was walking around our apartment campus I noticed Noah’s familiar laugh and the shared laughter of three other boys – his friends: Garrett, Bailey, and Corey.

I followed the sound of boyhood. Where did it lead me? To the creek. Where else? Yes, there is a mini-creek that runs right next to our apartments. Like boys of every era these boys were magnetically drawn to the water. After all, critters lurk there. The fulfillment of boyhood desires ripple with the shallow waves as the water snakes slowly by: hypnotic, mesmerizing, full of mystery.

Noah made an apologetic for his presence. He seemed to know intuitively that he was in trouble. Interestingly, nothing within me felt anything like anger or parentally angst. Instead the memories of my own creek experiences surfaced along with a fairly large smile on my face.

I left him to play with his friends in the creek. So far he has survived.

Christopher Hitchens Gone [Alluring Reptile-like Captivation]

Why did so many people enjoy watching the life of Christopher Hitchens?

It was much more entertaining than intellectually vigorous though from time to time he actually said something (or wrote something) that made sense.

Unfortunately Hitchens was so committed to his naturalistic presuppositions that he never truly considered the possibility that theism is true. Apparently when he died on December 15, 2011, after his fight with cancer, he was still committed to the same illogical presuppositions.

A Walking Contradiction

As a Christian I (‘m not the only one who) was intrigued by Hitchens. But he seemed to me to be something of a walking contradiction. On the surface he portrayed himself as a rather miserable person who didn’t smile or laugh much. He didn’t seem to like people much. Sort of the quintessential Grinch.

That part of Hitchens I can understand. It does make logical sense for naturalistic atheists to be rather miserable sad creatures. They have embraced a worldview that is miserable and that leads to misery. Why not be miserable?

The part of Hitchens that seems contradictory was his willingness to fight for causes that he believed in. For example, the last several years of his life was dedicated to killing God. Ok, that is my phrase. To be fair and accurate, he wasn’t out to kill God since he did not believe – at least publicly – that God exists. But he was out to kill religion (all of it), since he saw it as basically dangerous to the human race.

He also wrote extensively on moral issues, promoting an idea of what he believed to be right and what he believed to be wrong.

In both of these crusades (to kill religion and promote his moral views) Hitchens seemed to be a walking contradiction. How can a person on the one hand blatantly deny any objective grounding for morality and on the other hand promote his own morality to the culture? To assert that there is no God is to assert that morality is an opinion rather than an objective reality. And yet Hitchens believed religions to be (apparently) objectively immoral.

In many debates Hitchens was called out on this contradiction, and though I’ve not seen every reply he has given I have never seen him give anything like a satisfactory answer. Usually he simply changed the subject or threw out some red herring in order to distract listeners. Of course I pitied Hitchens (and other naturalistic atheists like him) since there is really no answer that can be given. They are simply holding to an illogical, untenable position and must live with it.

Reptile Allure

That said I, like many others, liked Hitchens. He had something of a charm about him akin to the kind of charm snakes have in the reptile department at the zoo. When people go to the zoo where do they want to go? (This is probably not true of everyone). People very often want to go see the snakes. Why? They are venomous, often dangerous animals that have a tendency to freak people out. Yes, but they also have a charm. A sort of dangerous, appealing charm. No wonder people want them as pets. They move slyly and with hypnotic deliberateness. They seem to be very aware of their surroundings – with an in-control attitude even when they are being threatened – and I envision them with a deceitful half-smile, a manipulative, knowing grin.

Our trip to the zoo is not complete until we see them. Something within us wants to (just like Eve) is magnetized by their scales and tongues. They are dangerously attractive.

Hitchens possessed just such a charm. Miserable though he seemed, people, including me, were drawn curiously to him. His words – almost always filled with dry wit – captivated audiences wherever he went.

Amazingly his alluring, reptile-like attractiveness did nothing to buttress his weak naturalistic, atheistic arguments. He spewed the venom until the Lord decided enough was enough.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...