Grady has started school, too — he’s attending the Dupree Center (it’s the seminary sponsored pre-school) two half-days a week, and seems to be having a great time with his classmates and his teacher, Mr. Allan.  His birthday was on his second day of school, so he took muffins to class and they had a party.  He also likes looking through the school microsope at their collection of shellacked bugs (so I taught him how to say “entomologist”).

Not to be outdone, Abby is starting, too…starting to crawl.  Everywhere.  She has a funny sort of crawl, too that almost seems like it involves more work than doing it the regular way  (I hope that’s not indicative of future personality type).

And amidst it all, Amy has been the glue that holds all of us together as we walk, run, and crawl in new directions.  She’s also discovered a new love for the ocean and the beach, as somehow we managed to spend three of the past four weekends before classes started at various beaches on the New Jersey shore.

Looking backwards at our departure from Texas, our journey to the East Coast, and the past few months here in New Jersey, I’m glad we decided to come early for Summer Greek.  Today was a day of beginnings for most students in my class, but for me (and for my family, too, I think) it feels comfortable.  Familiar.  I know that we’re still a whole lot closer to the “beginning” than to the middle or end, and there will still be plenty of unfamiliar situations, experiences, and even trials to come, but for now things are good.  I’m confident that these years will be a special time for our family — one that we’ll look back on nostalgically in lifetimes to come.

(to see the rest of the pictures from this set, click here)

“Daddy, is Jesus God?”

It would have been easy to give the quick, standard, unquestionable answer I was raised with:

“Yes, Grady. Absolutely. Now finish your supper and don’t ask any more questions.”

Don’t worry, that wasn’t my answer. But reflecting on things a few hours later, and as a progressive educator, what I *wish* I would have said is:

“What do you think, Grady? What makes you ask that question?”

Of course, I didn’t think fast enough to come back with that response either. Instead, what I actually fumbled through was something more like:

“I don’t know, Grady. Some people believe that Jesus is God, and other people don’t.”

And then I tried to explain why some people do, and others don’t, until I found I was rambling at a level that was probably over his head, and quickly killing an otherwise perfect theological father/son opportunity for dialogue.

If you’re a new reader to this blog, and you’re still in shock over the fact that I don’t unquestionably and unwaveringly acknowledge the divinity of Christ…welcome to my blog, where heresy and orthodoxy share space! (please leave all crucifixes, burning stakes, and other implements of the Inquisition at the door before you enter — we’re a little bit sensitive about that here).

If anything, my two weeks studying Greek at seminary so far have reinforced my belief that we who call ourselves Christians know a whole lot less than some of us are comfortable with. Here’s a case in point: During the second day of class, we were reading the Lord’s Prayer in the original Greek (well…as close as we can actually get to the original, which isn’t really that close), and our professor stops at passage that loosely translates as “give us this day our daily bread.” Only, he points to the word that we translate as daily, and says, “Nobody really knows what this word means. It only occurs two places in the New Testament (both times in the Lord’s Prayer) and nowhere else in ancient Greek literature. The word ‘Daily’ is just a guess.”

So for all we know, Jesus could have said, “Give us this day our raisin bread.” I would certainly appreciate a daily ration of that. Now, I know that some people argue that it’s possible to be certain of the “big picture” despite small translation issues, and minor variances in manuscripts. I myself believe this is mostly true, although it seems to me (as an English major and student of language in general) that sometimes those “little” things can be pretty significant.

Back to Grady’s question. Is Jesus God? A google search on this question quickly turns up five dozen websites that all offer some variation of Josh McDowell’s “Liar, Lunatic, or Lord” proposition — basically the idea that

1. Jesus “said” he was God, and
2. for someone to make such a claim, he would have to be
   • a liar,
   • crazy, or
   • telling the truth

Even though I once used that whole shpiel (as a very young youth director), I’ve come to think it’s a ridiculous oversimplification and quite counterproductive. For one thing, I think Jesus actually was just a little bit loopy — as are most talented and passionate people who change history. But my bigger issue with the liar, lunatic, lord proposition is much more simple: Did Jesus actually ever say that he *was* God? In the gospel of Mark (the oldest of the gospels) he does not. In fact, Jesus’ favorite title for himself in all the gospels is not “Son of God” but rather “Son of Man” — in other words, Jesus himself preferred for us to focus on his humanity, not his divinity (well, according to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, at least).

The most oft quoted gospel for establishing the divinity of Jesus is the gospel of John, which was written much later, when “institutional Christianity” was already well underway, and after Paul (who came onto the scene *after* the death of Jesus) had already fleshed out the basic theology/christology adopted by the early church.  Even there, the most solid reference (in John) has Jesus saying “I and my father are one” (John 10:30 KJV). But is this the only way to translate that phrase? I haven’t broached this passage in the original Greek yet, but as we learn, I keep running into passages that can be reasonably translated in more than one way, sometimes making a striking difference in the ultimate meaning.  Here’s another translation of that same  passage: “I and the Father are one heart and mind” (MSG). I often think that of my relationship with Grady — despite the 30 years that separate us, sometimes we think and act a lot alike.  One might say we “share a brain.” But I certainly don’t think that Grady is me, and I am Grady. And I think a reasonable person listening to Jesus say these words would NOT have instantly thought him a liar, lunatic, OR even a deity…unless it were someone already looking for words to trip him up with (like the Pharisees).

Speaking of “looking for words to trip one up with” I should probably go ahead and make the disclaimer that what I’m writing here represents exploration and journey for me, theologically — not something set in stone, that I believe unwaveringly, yesterday, today, and forever. (And yes, this paragraph is specifically addressed to my Committee on Preparation for Ministry).

In the end, this is an issue that is far from resolved, at least for me. I don’t judge others who have already settled on an answer to this one — I have good friends on both sides.  Maybe Grady and I can explore this question together.

Later on that night, Grady asked another theological question:

“Daddy, why did people kill Jesus?”

I had a lot more fun answering this one. We talked about power, authority, money, and all the other things Jesus called into question. Whether Jesus was God or not, I AM pretty certain that Woody Guthrie had it right: If Jesus showed up today, preaching the same stuff he did 2000 years ago…we’d crucify him all over again. And by we, I mostly mean Christians.

If you’re not into science fiction, then you probably at least know him as the guy who wrote 2001: A Space Odyssey. If you are into science fiction, then you just know him. Period. Along with probably Isaac Asimov and Robert Hienlein (and maybe Ray Bradbury), Clarke is the backbone of that genre, and a few others as well.

If you use GPS in your car today, watch satellite TV, or listen to XM Radio, say thanks to Sir Arthur, who first came up with the ideas that made these technologies possible.

Clarke was a hardcore scientist, a champion of undersea exploration, and a peacemaker. But above all he was a writer, and one who inspired much of my own writing and ideas about science fiction. I’m compelled to offer a summary of my indebtedness to him in my own writing:

• Space Academy: My young-adult novel (unfinished) uses Clarke’s brilliant (and quite possibly prophetic) idea of a space elevator to transport people off the planet.
• Twelve: My short-story involving human memory backup/restore — Clark explored this idea as far back as in 1948 with his novel The City and the Stars.
• Catching Christopher: My attempt at a children’s short-story in a sub-genre that Clarke helped pioneer with his work for the British science fiction comic, Dan Dare.

And here’s Arthur C. Clarke in some of his own profound words:

1. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic
2. If we have learned one thing from the history of invention and discovery, it is that, in the long run — and often in the short one — the most daring prophecies seem laughably conservative
3. As our own species is in the process of proving, one cannot have superior science and inferior morals. The combination is unstable and self-destroying.
4. I’m sure the universe is full of intelligent life. It’s just been too intelligent to come here.
5. I don’t believe in God but I’m very interested in her.
6. I want to see lasting and meaningful peace achieved in Sri Lanka as early as possible. But I am aware that peace cannot just be wished; it involves hard work, courage and persistence.
7. Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.

But perhaps the best words to end with are those I began with — the words of my son, who will grow up in the world Clarke helped to create: “Dad, I dreamed about space last night.”

The last time I slept in this bed was almost ten years ago, the night I received a phone call telling me my father had passed away. It was two weeks after my college graduation, and four days after my 23rd birthday. Grady Walker came out to my apartment, picked me up and brought me here. I was grateful for his company.

I’ve heard it said that you become a man the day your father dies. There is some truth to that, but it doesn’t happen instantly. The first night after your father dies – no matter how old you are – you’re a little boy, alone and uncertain in the void that was your father’s world.

I cried my young 23-year-old eyes to sleep that night, in this very bed. But ten years later, as I type this tonight, my own little boy is sleeping peacefully beside me, blissfully unaware of how fragile and temporary our time together in this world can be.

I still miss my father, and often feel like I missed out on some time with him (he was 48 when he died). But what I’m feeling right at this moment is how much I love being a father. How much I love my son, and sharing with him so many of the things my father *did* have the time to share with me. This bed, this night, are reminders of things I couldn’t possibly have known ten years ago: Life goes on. It repeats itself, even. Sometimes love is something you cant pay back, so you pay it forward.

Goodnight Grady Jeremiah Locke.

Goodnight Michael William Locke.

Sweet dreams.

In addition to bringing the two Gradys together, we’re here for homecoming weekend at Oral Roberts University, my alma mater. I know, I know, homecoming is supposed to be in the fall (I always have to explain this) unless of course, your college doesn’t have a football team. We have a homecoming basketball game. Weird, I know, but probably not the strangest thing about ORU by far.

Actually, ORU has been in the news a lot lately, and I’ve even blogged about some of that a few times. In a nutshell, the chief nut, Richard Roberts (Oral’s son) resigned the presidency a few months ago amidst pending lawsuits and allegations of excessive, innappropriate spending. Other nuts on the board of regents resigned too. Then, a very wealthy man named Mart Green (the guy behind the movie “End of the Spear” steps in and offers to bail ORU out of its 60 million dollar debt (racked up by Oral and Richard). Mart Green is now the chairman of the board of trustees of ORU. I know that sounds a little fishy, but at this point I’m wiling to give him the benefit of the doubt. From my experiences as student body president my last year at ORU, I lost all respect for the Roberts family, so I’m excited about the possibilities surrounding ORU for the first time in a long time. In part, it’s why I’m here.

Oh, and this also happens to be my ten year reunion. That’s kind of wierd, too. Reunions are just plain awkward. Especially here. And now. For me. Ah, well…to quote the bard:

Once more, into the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:

Ok, so at the end of January this is about a month overdue, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who contributed to Grady’s Christmas present this year: Two XO Laptops from the One Laptop Per Child foundation – one for Grady, and one presented on his behalf to a child in Mongolia (see pictures!).

The give-one-get-one program provided a great opportunity to talk to him about kids in other parts of the world who don’t have some of the things we take for granted here, and Grady often asks questions about “the little boy who got a computer just like mine.” (ok, so we’re making some assumptions – it could have been a little girl).

The computer itself is incredible: It looks like a toy (designed for small fingers) but it’s a full featured, rugged, and powerful laptop, with more USB ports and better wi-fi range than my Dell has. It’s not only green in color, but possibly the most environmentally conscious computer ever made, too. It runs all open source software, including a Linux-based interface designed especially for children. It was designed first and foremost as an educational tool with a strong constructivist philosophy, which is evident in just about every program (they’re called “activities” on his laptop). In addition to recording his own videos and making a collection of his favorite jokes, he’s already experimented with changing the programming code (python language) for one of the games – something actually encouraged by the developers!

I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a gift for me, in many ways, too. I almost cried when I first took it out of the packing box to wrap it for him before Christmas. I remember when I was just a little older than Grady, my dad brought home a Commodore 64 for the first time, and (over the next few years) taught me how to write programs in BASIC. It was (and is) a gift that I cherish now that he’s gone, and like the reading it was probably more about the time he spent with me than what we actually did (although I’m definitely grateful for the geek skillz he passed on).

Just about every day now, Grady asks me, “Dad – can we have some computer time?” No gift could possibly be better than that for a father and son.

Thanks to Grandad and G.G., Grandma Linda and Grandpa Jim, Aunt Emily, Uncle Shelby and Aunt Erica, Uncle Jeff, and Uncle Joe – from Grady and his Daddy.

Anyhow… Abby’s 1,692 week-old Daddy has been asked to post some more pictures, so here they are. Enjoy!

(NOTE: If you’re reading via email or a feed reader, you might have to click through to the site to see the pictures)

(And here are a few of her big brother…)