We’ve been studying the dominant worldviews in our evening services. Last night was postmodernism. It’s characterized by denial of a diety, absence of absolutes, and a great deal of apathy. Sound like America? Yeah, it’s here, all right.
One of the main tenants caught my eye. In place of a moral compass, post-modernists are very wishy-washy on truth. Truth becomes whatever you say it is. If it’s right for you, it’s truth. The guy with the most power (or a majority) gets to decide the truth for society. They’re very clever at twisting language to say whatever they want it to mean (as is happening to our Constitution and our laws about marriage). This language manipulation, at least on an academic level, is referred to as “story.” Story is whatever you want to make up. Story is truth.
Um, does this make anyone else feel like their standing at the bottom of the Mississippi with a hurricane roaring in? How can anyone keep their footing when so many currents are sucking at them? How do you find a safe place? How do you cling to something real?
I was reminded of the parable of the wise and foolish builders. One built his house on sand and the rains washed it away. The other built on rock, and his house withstood the storms. This is my kind of story. This is my kind of message. It’s the truth I root my own written works in. It is an absolute you can stand on, depend on, no matter what is swirling around you.
Forget standing in the drink. Give me a Rock.
Image courtesy of Wolfgang Staudt via Flickr.