We Always Want to Do What We Cannot

Human beings are a bit peculiar in that they always want to do what they cannot do. Granted, there is a difference between what we cannot do and what we are not supposed to do, but the two are related in the way they evoke the desire for the forbidden or the seemingly unobtainable.

I watched a little bit of Space Odyssey: 2001 the other night until I couldn't take any more of the music. The 1968 perception of what would be available in 2001 was interesting. For instance, a phone in a "phone booth" presented as a big computer console with a 19 inch color screen. You put your credit card in a slot and make a video call. They could not envision cell phones that will do the same in the palm of your hand or Skype that will make a video call to anywhere in the world without the $1.70 charge to your credit card.

The interesting thing to me is that we have gone more text based than video based. The first long distance communication was the telegraph, now we "telegraph" from the palms of our hands. We want to text because it is clean, quick, not messy, just to the point, and we don't have to answer back if we don't want even in the middle of a conversation.

Why the facination with video capabilities, when all we would eventually want to do is still send typed words... simple, because we couldn't do it. Since we couldn't do it we (they) perceived that it would be the apex of communication achievement.

I'll admit this line of thinking embraces a lot of speculation.

The first thing God said to man was that he could eat anything in the garden except the fruit of one tree, and if they ate of that one tree they would die.

The first thing Satan said to man was that if they ate of the fruit of that same tree, they would not die.

The same interchange is present today. God tells us there are consequences for our actions and Satan tells us there are no consequences. I'd rather believe personified truth than personified deception.

We press to new heights when told we cannot. We push to new lows when we are told we should not. Its something in our nature. That nature needs to be redeemed. The new heights are a good thing, the new lows are not.

We need to focus our curiosity, our entrepreneurial spirits, our reach for the unreachable to noble, God-honoring, and eternally significant tasks. How does our reaching take ourselves and humankind closer to God? How does our reaching demonstrate the compassion of Christ, so others, too, may know him? How does our reaching make us better, and others better? Some questions to ponder as we press into new things and new places.

It was Simply Necessary

Only once did my father ever rebuff me for asking a sincere question, "Dad, did you kill anyone in the war?" To which he sternly replied that killing another human being was never something to be proud of, necessary, perhaps, but not something to be proud of. It seems there were two kinds of WWII vets, those who wore the hats with their insignias and unit numbers, and those that quietly and courageously went about their lives, but never forgetting doing what was necessary, and never forgetting the things they saw and the friends that were lost.

Dad's military medals and a few mementos were always tucked away in his dresser drawer under his clothes. Never displayed, never pulled out to show off, just in the drawer. It was only in his final years that he began to tell me of some of the things he experienced. There was always the memory of the B-17s that didn't make it back to the base, planes that carried friends and men he knew. There was always the wondering of who was in those factories and installations bombed.

Once, on a family trip to Disney World, we sat taking a break from the walking and Dad was lost in thought looking at a family, a German speaking family with their grandfather. I asked Dad what he was thinking, and he replied, "I can't help but wonder where that man was in 1943." It wasn't from the perspective of viewing a possible former enemy, but from the perspective of wondering what hurt and pain that man and his family may have experienced simultaneous to his own.

I must admit, I am a patriot, I am thankful and proud to be an American. I must admit that it goes down hard for me when I hear the world, particularly Europeans (with sincere respect to some of my friends), criticize the United States. Not because we are always right, but because I do believe that through the generations we have tried to do right. Some may question our motives, but I believe the motives of the American people, by and large, have been benevolent and giving. My dad's life, and subsequently my life, and probably to some degree the lives of my children, was affected by the willingness of that generation to stand for what was right.

All of these things color my view of current events. I believe Osama Bin Laden had to be stopped, whatever that took. I am thankful he was stopped. I am grateful for our military and our leaders who finally put an end to his insanity. It was simply necessary. I do, however, recoil a bit when I see images of Americans taking to the streets with alcohol and U.S. flags and dancing gleefully like we just won the World Cup. I am relieved, and even feel some satisfaction, but I think the character of the majority of Americans is to take pause, feel relief, and understand that something necessary was completed in a world that can be savage at times. In the character and nature of Christ, I can't be full of joy that because of evil in the world it was necessary to take a life to stand against evil -- again, it was necessary, but giddy joy is not the emotion I feel.

After almost ten years my eyes still brim with tears when I even think about the tragedy and emotions of 9/11/01. We will not forget and we did the right thing hunting down and stopping the person most responsible for this tragedy. But, I have to say, I don't feel joy over any of this. It is simply the completion of the necessary measures that must be taken to survive in a world that can be savage and evil at times.