Just a Few Questions

I eat too much Taco Bell.

I doubt that's a huge surprise to most of you. Anybody can take a look at me - even just a passing glance, really - and it's not gonna be that much of a stretch to get to "This dude eats too many things that are mostly comprised of meat and cheese."

But the thing about me eating too much Taco Bell is that I actually eat less of too much than I used to. I used to eat way too much. Now... yeah, it's still too much, but it's less than it was. My run for the border occurs a little less frequently than it used to, I don't order an entire side of the menu when I go, and I've pretty much abandoned trying to actually live up to the idea of "Fourthmeal," even with that being as pleasant of a challenge as it was.

Now, the goal here is obviously to get to a point where I don't eat "too much" Taco Bell, but in fact eat the right amount of Taco Bell. (I fully realize that there are some in our world who would suggest that the "right" amount of Taco Bell is no Taco Bell at all, but I don't care about those folks' opinions, because they're also the kind of people who insist that a half-cup of ice cream is a "serving," and we all know that's patently ridiculous...)

I'm not at the goal... And it's arguable that I'm not really even all that close to the goal just yet... But I'm definitely closer than I was... So is that progress?

More than that being progress... is that good?

I know that it is not good in and of itself that I still eat too much Taco Bell. That's bad. I know that.

But is it good that I eat less of too much? Or is it still just hopelessly awful all the way up until I'm only ordering a single "Fresco" burrito once every three months? (This will never happen.)

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My buddy Will and I went into Dickson the other night to see a movie. Once it was over, we got to doing what we do best - cruising around aimlessly, listening to music and shooting the breeze.

Will was driving, and our wanderings took us fairly deep into what was unfamiliar territory for him: the vast untamed wilds of Dickson County, including but not limited to the sprawling metropolises of Vanleer, Slayden, and Tennessee City.

So once we'd decided that it was time to turn back towards home, Will didn't really know where we were. And it's not like I'm super familiar with Vanleer or anything, but I at least knew how to get back to the house, and gave directions along the way. After a while, though, we came back into a part of Dickson where I thought Will would be able to recognize where we were. We came to a red light and Will asked me which way we should go.

"Dude, don't you know where we are yet?"

Will replied with a tone of humble resignation. "No, man... Not at all."

I pointed out the window. "The high school's right there."

"Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah... OK. I got it now. Awesome."

And then we drove home. End of story. Yaaaaaaaaaaay.

But what I wanna know is this: is it entirely necessary when giving directions to spell out every step that's going to be taken on the drive, or is it good enough to just point out familiar landmarks and let the driver take it from there?

Will didn't know where we were for a good bit of that drive. He had vague ideas of how to get back home - if you're in Dickson County and trying to head to Hickman County, at some point South has got to happen. I gave directions when they were necessary, but for the most part, I let Will do the driving on his own. After all, he was the one driving. I was controlling the iPod, and that's a job that takes some serious concentration.

So did that make me a bad navigator? Or can my success be judged by the fact that we actually got home?

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When the discussion comes around to which actor had the best portrayal of James Bond, the answer is Sean Connery.

This is not a matter of opinion, it is simply how it is.

Sure, you may prefer Pierce Brosnan or Daniel Craig... Or if you're some kind of weirdo, Roger Moore... (I don't think there's really anybody out there who would pick George Lazenby or Timothy Dalton, but if you happen to be reading this, congratulations, you're a statistical singularity.)

But it doesn't matter what you prefer: Sean Connery is the right answer.

James Bond creator Ian Fleming was not originally sold on Connery as Bond. Roger Moore had actually been considered during production of Dr. No, but was rejected as being too young. Moore later went on to become the oldest actor to portray Bond (58), even beating out David Niven (57) as Bond in the spoof version of Casino Royale. (Niven had in fact been Fleming's first choice to portray Bond in the "official" EON production series.)

After the release of Dr. No, however, Fleming changed his mind about Sean Connery. In fact, he changed his mind so much that he changed James Bond. In On Her Majesty's Secret Service, the first novel written after the Dr. No movie, Fleming provides details about Bond's lineage, stating that his father was Scottish, which was a change from the earlier novels which provided an Irish upbringing for Bond.

So, yeah. Sean Connery was so good at being James Bond that the creator of James Bond changed James Bond to be more like Sean Connery.

But what about when I do have those discussions with those seldom people who - for some reason - prefer another actor over Connery, what can I say? Yeah, they're entitled to their opinions... but their opinion is objectively not right.

So when are we allowed to say, "You're wrong"? When can we actually bust that out? It seems to me that "You're wrong" is just about the ultimate taboo phrase in today's world. People will insist that there's really no right or wrong, it's all just whatever you believe that works for you.

I dunno about that. You can believe that 2+2=5 all you want. I can't stop you there... but is it part of my responsibility to tell you the actual truth?

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Consider a man whose entire adult life has been in pursuit of satiating the carnal desires of the flesh. When he meets a woman he likes, he uses all of his considerable charm to land her in his bed. Maybe it's only once, maybe it's several times, but either way, it's sex. That's how this guy operates: he has sex with women. It's his deal.

Now let's say that this man encounters Christ in a way that he never has before and finally begins to understand the point of Christianity. He decides to at least attend services regularly, and is becoming genuinely interested in the message behind each sermon.

As he continues to get churched up, he reconsiders his approach to women and decides that maybe - just maybe - his incessant fornication is not the best choice he could be making. Does he still pick up the occasional girl? Sure does. Is he moving towards monogamous relationships? Yeah, seems like it.

Is his view on sex all the way up to good yet? From a Christian standard, of course not.

But... is it better?

In one's pursuit of holiness, there should never be any mistaking "less bad" for "good," but all the same, "less bad" actually is less bad, and that's a lot to be considered, especially when thinking about those who are considering Christianity.

And with those same folks considering Christianity, do we really have to give them the instructions on how to get all the way home when they're still a long ways out?

From what I've seen, there's this kind of drive in evangelistic or missionary outreaches to get people to commit to Christ immediately, just in case God shows up in the next twenty minutes. As soon as the conversation turns to God, there's a loaded Bible pointed at your head and somebody's hunting down a swimming pool to use as a baptismal immediately if not sooner.

What happened to taking our time? What happened to actually counting the cost? Too many of today's Christians became Christians when they were too young to actually understand what they were getting themselves into. Too many of today's former Christians were the ones who became Christians at a time when their ideas of how people function in the world were still being shaped, and the shortcomings of the Christians around them turned them off to the faith that they had so recently proclaimed.

Is it entirely necessary to make every single attempt of spreading the Gospel a conversion experience? Is planting a seed not good enough anymore? Is there a reason we act like we have to clear the land and replant an entire tree now, all in one move?

And what about the other people sitting around the churches who are imposing impossible moral standards on these new converts? What about the people who are uncomfortable letting the guy in the less-nice clothes with the tattoos on his neck into church because he looks like a sinner? When can we say, "HEY! YOU'RE WRONG!" to those folks?

I know that it's pretty much the worst thing in the world to tell someone, "I'm being a better Christian than you," but sometimes I think I'd be willing to cross that line if I thought it would do any good.

We've come to a point where, like the Pharisees, we expect people to live up to our moral codes and meet our standards for righteousness - a moral code and righteousness defined in most cases by a lifetime of growing up in a church. What about a guy who grew up in the most evil, hate-filled, miserable pit of suffering on this Earth? Should we expect him to immediately conform to our standards of morality? Does God expect that?

Or should we be looking for improvement?

Don't get me wrong... Sin is sin is sin, all the way through. One sin is just as damning as one thousand sins. But in a pursuit of perfection, managing to go from one thousand sins to one sin is pretty commendable. Is it perfection? No. Is it better? Well... I think so.

We've come to a point where, like the Pharisees, we smack people right on the nose with the full out strength of the Gospel as soon as they show the slightest interest in knowing anything about God, and we hold a spiritual gun to their heads, telling them they've got to become Christians NOW because they might die AT ANY SECOND and if they died on the way to be baptized then they'd still go to hell because God is super scary and doesn't actually like any of us. Fear is an awesome motivator for a religion based on love, don't you think?

Shouldn't we maybe just be content to plant the seeds? I have atheist friends. It is kind of silly for me to try to convince them that they should give their lives up to Christ when they don't believe that God even exists in the first place. So maybe there's gotta be some groundwork done. Maybe there needs to be some foundation laid before we can get to Jesus. Maybe we're trying to shove a pre-packaged form of Christian outreach down people's throats so we can tick off "Spreading the Gospel" on our How-To list for going to Heaven.

And maybe that's wrong.

Maybe we've lost sight of the fact that our journey to God is a... uhh... you know... journey. Jesus refers to the straight and narrow path, not the straight and narrow landing platform. The entire point of this whole thing is that we all grow closer to God. If somebody goes from very, very, very far away from God to just far away from God, I think that's a step in the right direction, don't you?