school daze

Egyptian monks called sloth the “noonday demon,” for the heat of the sun and their growling stomachs (dinner was at three) distracted them from their intellectual tasks. I am going to nominate a northern substitute. The new sloth is the “five o’clock shadow,” for that is pretty much when the sun goes down in December, and your body thinks that it’s time for bed. It’s best to save tasks for this time of year that you can do in your sleep, because that is pretty much how you’ll be doing them.

Here’s a sign that you’re not keeping up with the Christmas season:  last night I received a call from one of my students who wondered why our class didn’t show up. I told him that the semester was over—don’t you remember taking the final exam last week? I felt sorry for him, as he’s obviously a busy pastor with way too much on his plate. I didn’t have the heart to ask if he had completed the reading for last night’s class.

I am excited to teach Apologetics again this January, especially because I’m working up a new proof for God’s existence. In addition to the standard moral, ontological, cosmological, and teleiological proofs, I think there may be room for a Tebowological argument for God. I’m still working out the kinks—I’ve already inserted a Brady Rule (all bets are off when facing Tom Brady, Aaron Rogers, or Drew Brees)—and I realize it’s a fairly localized proof (more convincing the closer you get to the Rockies).

I also have to contend with the fact that even Tebow acknowledges that God doesn’t really care who wins his games—to which I reply that I assume Tim is praying for something when he’s Tebowing during a 60 yard field goal attempt. The largest hurdle though, is that with his beard, Tebow looks a lot like Goliath in my children’s book of Bible stories. I can’t prove it, but that may have something to do with his costly fumble on Sunday.

There will always be Humean cynics who will say that, if Tebow’s miraculous success counts for God, then why doesn’t the mediocre play of Colt McCoy, an equally fervent evangelical, not count against God? That one is easy. McCoy plays for the Browns, who along with the entire sports town of Cleveland was cursed by God before I was born. Even our Messiah figure quit on us and went to South Beach.

The beauty of the Tebow argument—as I imagine it—is that it will clearly and immediately show you who you’re dealing with. The argument will either find receptive hearts or it will meet with angry denunciation. There will be no middle ground. Just what Romans 1 says we should expect when bearing witness.

So if Tebow shaves his beard, and especially if he keeps on winning, expect a revival to break out in Colorado Springs. The Christian infrastructure is already in place.

Update:  Andy Naselli sent me this link to a miked-up Tim Tebow during the Bears game. It’s great footage of a fine Christian man. It also explains why the one sentence you never want to hear in church is, “Before Pastor Johnson brings this morning’s message, special music from Tim Tebow.”