Progress is Not A Straight Line

I've written about my fitness journey a fair bit, and I still have a ways to go, but here's a good reminder for anyone struggling with progress on a goal.

That right there, is almost three years of ups,downs, and sideways ignorance. But the real takeaway is that even when I've been focused on eating right, running, and getting my weight down, the bar graph is still a jagged sawtooth, not a straight line. But that's not the point. The point is that the trend is in the proper direction, and that it's important to not get lost in the day to day ups and downs. What's important is the goal, putting the bad days behind you, and not getting too excited by the good days.

My fitness journey still has a ways to go, but I know it's possible.

Book Review - The Pith of the Apocalypse

Having been raised in an Evangelical Christian household during the ‘80s and ‘90s, some things were accepted as “obviously the way it is” when it comes to understanding of difficult Biblical passages. Attending a Fundamentalist Baptist college did little to dissuade some of these notions, though the significant gap (in the eyes of practicing Fundies) between fundamental Christians and Evangelical Christians did certainly force the re-examination of some long-held beliefs. A literal interpretation of Revelation, and a pre-tribulation Rapture (generally known as the “Futurist” interpretation) were not among these re-examined items.
Post college, the topic never really came up. “Hey, what are your thoughts on Revelation?” has never been a particularly popular topic in my gamer and programmer circles. The seeker-friendly church that I attended with my family for years didn’t spend much time on the topic either. A focus on Revelation, whether it’s read literally or figuratively, tends to turn off the average mega-church attendee. Even so, as I would read through the Bible during my own studies, doubts gradually began to crop up about the Futurist view that I’d always heard. Little things that simply didn’t add up, or which would seem to contradict each other.

One example: a Futurist reading of Revelation and a pre-Tribulation Rapture (as popularized in the Left Behind book series) essentially requires that some sort of world body pacify the extremist elements in Islam, so that Israel can rebuild a temple in Jerusalem. However, literalists also preach that the Rapture could happen at any time, thereby kicking off the seven-year period of tribulation that a literal interpretation of Revelation covers. These two things simply cannot both be true.

Another, personal conclusion: The Futurist view is wholly Earth centric. All of the signs, wonders, plagues and battles, happen on Earth. Which follows that a Futurist interpretation of Revelation requires that either humanity never establishes colonies on other worlds, or that the Rapture and beginning of the Tribulation obliterate all human life beyond Earth. Alternatively, Revelation must be read less literally, that the things described as happening “On Earth” are actually metaphors happening throughout the universe wherever humans have been. The first option I find too depressing to consider, as I’m a big proponent of space travel and exploration and hope to live long enough to see the first human colony on Mars or the Moon. The second possibility is more plausible, though no less depressing. The third possibility means that we’ve already moved from a literal interpretation of the book to something more figurative.

These issues, and others, led me to question whether the interpretation I’d always heard was really correct. My current church does not shy away from dealing with controversial topics, particularly in the Sunday School classes where doctrine is unapologetically taught, studied, and discussed. It was in one such class where we studied Revelation, that I learned there was another, more sensible (to my mind) way to understand the book.

From Wikipedia, Preterism is an interpretation of Revelation which views the book as referring primarily to the events of the apostolic era, which the churches to which John addressed the letter would have been directly in the middle of. Like the rest of the Epistles, that doesn’t mean that Revelation has no relevancy beyond the timeframe it was written in, but that it should be understood and interpreted not so much as a literal prophecy of things to come, but as metaphors and themes that would be profitable not only to the churches of the time, but also to Christians throughout the ages.

No matter what interpretation
of Revelation you choose to
believe, this series is just
poorly plotted fiction.

And if the plagues, seals, and sundry things pictured in Revelation are more metaphor than literal, well, then that neatly wipes away my questions about timelines and humanity expanding to the stars.

Conveniently, our class teacher, Dr. Paul Rainbow, had published a book a few years ago about the topic called The Pith of the Apocalypse. I do mean conveniently. For all the benefits the class format conveys, there are some drawbacks when dealing with controversial topics and limited time. I was hardly the only member of the class to be somewhat thunderstruck by the idea of a totally non-literal interpretation of Revelation. But that said, the book really helped layout the case well. It’s a short volume, heavily footnoted and sourced, from which my “Further Study” queue grew by at least three or four books. In it, Dr. Rainbow lays out his case, citing a good deal of the historical conditions facing the church in Asia Minor at the close of the First Century A.D. and logically correlating those to much of John’s imagery. Later chapters explain the internal logic and themes of Revelation, and match them to how the imagery would have been perceived and understood by the Jewish believers who would be reading John’s letter and who had a deep understanding already of Old Testament prophecies concerning the end times.

In addition, The Pith of the Apocalypse lays out one of the most compelling side arguments for a Preterist view, which doesn’t rely on the text itself: benefit to the modern readers. What I mean is this: a Preterist interpretation of Revelation makes the book a prescription for how we should live now, with a glorious reminder of an ultimate, victorious future. The Futurist interpretation, on the other hand, promotes fatalism, and an optimistic hope where none is warranted – “The Rapture could be tomorrow” is a close cousin to the optimistic POW’s attitude that “Rescue could arrive at any time.” It was the observation of [NAME] that in Vietnam, optimistic prisoners rarely survived, because eventually, optimism falters and dies, leading to depression. The same kind of faltering hope and depression can and does happen in dedicated Futurist believers.

I’m certainly not going to look askance at any of my brothers or sisters in Christ who hold to a Futurist view of Revelation. That’s the thing about Biblical prophecy, it’s tough to interpret, save in hindsight. It’s possible that the Preterist view is wrong, but I doubt it. Even if this interpretation is wrong, it’s a better path to daily living, and if it’s incorrect, nothing of value in my life is lost.

Another Christian Defense of Fantasy

On a Facebook group that I'm part of, someone posted a link to something called Faith and Gaming Settings from a website called the Christian Gamers Guild. The post itself is excellent, and has some very good points about world view.

This provoked a bit of discussion within said Facebook group, and while it's pretty obvious where I stand on the whole argument (I'd be pretty hypocritical of me to come down any way but on the Pro Fantasy side, considering my gaming and writing) I do feel it's worth getting into a bit of a longer discussion about the philosophy of why.

Let's start with agreeing on a definition of fantasy. While the word in modern connotations is heavily linked to Sword & Sorcery types of entertainment, I'd argue that in a broader context, fantasy can really be any kind of fiction, especially if it's asking a "What if?" question and positing some element of reality different than our own.

Fantasy was the story of Icarus, and the human dream of flight, for centuries before it became reality.

Fantasy is an eight-year-old boy in his backyard with a bat and a ball, dreaming that he's driving in the winning run in the World Series for his team.

Fantasy is, dare I say it, a story about a man who finds a great treasure in a field, and sells everything he owns to go and buy the field.

Fantasy asks questions, posits answers, and lets us put ourselves in someone else's shoes. What if I could fly? What would I do if I found that treasure? It can be an escape, a teaching tool, and everything in between. It's a gift, and we are fools if we dismiss it as mere child's play, or worse, a tool of the enemy.