Ribbons of Air; Ribbons of Prayer

Ribbons of Air; Ribbons of Prayer

For those of us who love cycling, I’m not sure the primary attraction. I mean, it sure beats walking. You get to see more scenery in the same amount of time, but, of course, you can do that in a car as well. There is something about the breeze and the speed and the effort that makes it way better than golf.

When you pedal for more than a few miles, you have time to think. And since we are human, one can think about some pretty dumb stuff. One could, for instance, wonder what would happen if one of the front forks broke on a 40 m.p.h. downhill; or if a brake cable broke; or a deer stepped out in front. All of these could be precarious, and the precarity may lend itself to the thrill.

One of my “dead time” bicycle thoughts is about that thin ribbon of air the separates me and my bike from the asphalt. I know fat tires are all the rage, but I still love my 23c tires, so little rubber touching the road and lifting only about a half inch from the pavement. That ribbon of air that keeps youafloat is just “there,” and yet it makes the whole experience possible. Without it, there would be much scraping and sliding, and the experience would be ruined.

Which leads one to think, if you have a strange brain like mine, about ribbons of prayer. In the experience of life, there are rough surfaces and jagged edges, and without a buffer, like a ribbon of air on a bicycle, there will be many bruises and scrapes. But what is that buffer in the experience of life? Some would say that it is “smarts” or awareness. You’ve got to look out for yourself. I suppose that would work great, if the problem wasn’t also in your own self. What is your buffer then? Others may point to education or money or friends. Again, those things may help, so long as the education educates you for the tests that actually occur in life, and they are not predictable. Or if the money runs out, or it fails to buy things that really satisfy. And friends, they also can disappoint, as you know.

We need something more consistent than these things, something deeper, and more profound. We need a relationship with God with whom we can talk and wonder and seek the help that we do not yet know that we need. We need a conversation with Someone who knows us better than we know ourselves. And we need that conversation to be always available. A ribbon of prayer.

Is this even real? Is it possible? Yes, in a relationship with the living and true God, rooted in the reconciliation accomplished by His Son, and enabled by the ministry of the Spirit. Yes, we find this in a ribbon of prayer with the Trinitarian God. Richer. Fuller. Deeper. 

Rachmaninov’s Tractor

Rachmaninov’s Tractor

Sergei Rachmaninov has been one of my favorite classical composers for a long time. He was a great pianist with big hands and could cover a lot of territory on the keyboard. He composed for symphonies and concertos for individual instruments, such as piano and cello. His choral work, “Vocalise,” is beautiful.

Sergei grew up and performed in Russia just before the 1917 Russian revolution which swept away the Czar and serfdom, and brought in the terrors of Lenin and Stalin. It was a very difficult time for “professional” people as the peasants raged, with clearance from what passed as government at the time, pillaging and killing those who had any marks of privilege associated with their lifestyle. Rachmaninov certainly fit this description, having a large farm which was worked with about one hundred horses.

But Sergei had seen pictures of this new thing called an American tractor, and what he saw, he wanted. He approached a government agency to get approval for the purchase, and the official sought to persuade him to stick with horses. But the man asked, “But if you got one, what would you do with it?” Sergei responded, “I would drive it myself.” The official put through the approval. These things take time, and before he could ever get his American tractor, Sergei and his family had to flee the country, and they came, of all places, to America, where he performed his works, without a farm, and without a tractor.

We feel bad for Sergei, but it fits the category of things that we sincerely desire, but that we will never get. The world offers so many things, but there are strings attached - hoops to jump through; forms to fill out; credit (debt) for which we apply; changing circumstances; and, the brevity of life. Face it,
you will never get all those things the world offers that grab your attention and your heart. And when we live this way, we die disappointed and bitter.

Abraham, not a pianist, also died without having received what was promised. But he did not die disappointed and bitter. He died hopeful, in faith that what God had promised, God would in fact deliver. In fact, Abraham has more and better than was promised. Praise the Lord. God and this world are two very different entities (I am speaking of “world” here not as the created order which God called “good,” but of the present world order which seeks to deny God’s existence or to treat Him as though He does not matter). The world promises, and yet extracts. It gives in order to own you. It eats its own. God, on the other hand, gives, not always presently, but will deliver, perhaps now, and certainly in the end, in ways that surpass our desires and expectations. God is building a people and is building individuals who will wait in hope for the best, which is yet to come.

There are a lot of old men who just love tractors. That’s fine. But a tractor is not capable of delivering lasting joy. Why? It is a rusting, deteriorating relic of this passing age. The new age, reserved for those who happily receive God’s gifts (most importantly, His own Son), will be characterized by this lasting joy. No disappointment; no bitterness.

Real Intelligence

Real Intelligence

IQ has always been an interesting thing, though I don’t know if it is important. I firmly believe that there are all kinds of “smart,” and IQ may favor those who are “book smart” and not give much credit to those with common sense. But today, IQ has been replaced by discussions of artificial intelligence (AI), and we aren’t sure how important this is either. What may be much more important is “real intelligence.”

Paul famously says in 1 Corinthians 13 that “we know in part and we prophesy in part.” He goes on to say “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”

Did you catch that last part? Our future full knowledge will only then begin to correlate with the knowledge with which we have been and are now known. Who is it that has this “real knowledge,” and how does that shape what we think about artificial intelligence?

The first answer is easy, because it is God who knows all things, past, present and future, all at once, knowing fully what has preceded and what will come about. God is never surprised. He doesn’t have to “figure things out.” He never needs a “Plan B,” and He understands us completely.

One of the things that God must know about us is that we are not that smart. We confuse causes with correlations. We are constantly beset by unintended consequences. We change our plans as often as we change our clothes. What we think we know often needs to be corrected and can always be improved.

So, second question, how does this help us think about AI? Well, let’s start here: AI will never stand before the judgment seat of God, but you and I will, along with all those who work in the “intelligence” industry. The Judge will not be fooled, and He does not accept not-so-smart excuses. Does that help?

Also, I doubt that AI will be able to commit a sin that wasn’t already in our hearts. Let’s suppose that you have an AI assistant that knows you so well it will provide you with whatever you need (data, context, plans) even before you need it. But that AI assistant has also learned that it cannot rely on you to act responsibly with the task at hand, and knows that it could do better all by itself. So it goes ahead and leaves you in the dust. But wait, isn’t that what we do to God all the time, assuming that we know what we need better than He does, and deciding that we had better go ahead and fix it because God is slow about getting around to it? AI would only be committing the sin that we have been committing for centuries.

Perhaps what bothers us most is that AI might be more skillful at getting its own way than we are at getting ours. Maybe AI will be more clever, more deceptive, more … sinful. But remember, AI will not stand at the judgment seat of God. You and I will be there, and have to give an answer for all that wasted intelligence.