Easter Mysteries

For many precocious children, the real mystery of Easter is how bunnies can somehow produce eggs. Precocious children of a slightly more mischievous inclination would extend this mystery to how bunnies who miraculously produce eggs seem to have strewn them all over the place. Ah, to be young and concerned with bunnies, eggs, and the miracle of sharing!

While most adult Christians would insist, and rightly so, that the true miracle of Easter concerns the Christ who rose again from the dead, may we never lose the spirit of discovery and wonder that allows us to meditate on the incongruity of bunnies that lay eggs, and the Christ that celebrates such hunts with joy and laughter.

Happy Easter everyone!

Above the Storm

In the end, it's not about the numbers.

It's about the generosity of strangers, or the nobility of anonymity.



It's about the flood of volunteers, who stood taller than the floodwaters we battled against.

It's about hope amidst despair.

It's about the desire to sift through the flotsam and jetsam of our cluttered lives and finding the kindness and compassion that all of us possess.



It's about heroes. And the most wonderful realization that, much like what Mark Gosingtian so beautifully rendered in his graphic art, "where I come from, everyone's a hero".


Photo Credits:

Pictures come courtesy of The Human Chain Project: Ondoy Photos, by Pong Ignacio, The Human Chain Photos by Gabby Santos, and Mark Gosingtian.

A Love that Heals

I won't even throw in my two cents worth regarding the sad state of affairs that all booklovers are afflicted with in the Philippines following the comments made by Finance Undersecretary Espele Sales. My good friend Jayvee Fernandez, whose two cents are sadly devalued in a culture that, increasingly, refuses to read, has already penned an eloquent riposte to the distinguished undersecretary.


Rather, I am asking all who labor under some affliction or the other to come to the Megatent tomorrow for Father Nelson Osorio's Healing Mass. Admission, much like the promise of healing in one way or the other, is absolutely free.

Science Fantasy and Other Delightful Surprises

Sometimes, the best things in life just happen, with very little conscious thought, but with a great deal of deliberate grace. I was passing by National Bookstore in EDSA Shangri-La Mall when I came across the books which comprise the Chronicles of Chaos trilogy. And yes, you read it right. It's a trilogy. In this day and age, where second-rate writers churn out as many books as possible to keep themselves in hog heaven, John C. Wright wrote a trilogy. With all due respect to the late Robert Jordan, his success in the high fantasy genre encouraged every second-rate, derivative, pretentious hack to produce some spectacularly awful books in the hopes of replicating Jordan's epic Wheel of Time series. This is why a trilogy is so welcome. Like R. Scott Bakker, another wonderful fellow who penned a thought-provoking epic trilogy The Prince of Nothing, Wright's science fantasy epic has a beginning, a middle, and an ending, which is more than can be said of the many series being published today.

And yes, it is science fantasy. The problem with hard science fiction is that it tries to convey wonder through definition. Science fantasy, on the other hand, conveys wonder through definitions that require an a priori response that questions the rigidity of such definitions. In other words, this genre requires an enormous leap of faith that validates belief in magic of a sort.

Reviewer Paul Di Filippo writes:

Science fantasy is a blend that requires enormous skill to bring off. The author must mix the improbable with the probable, the fanciful with the hard-nosed, the rational with the supernatural. Luckily, John Wright is just the man for the job...he effortlessly blends the two.

Astute readers will detect flavors here of Philip K. Dick (the games with the nature of reality); A.E. van Vogt (the recomplicated shifting alliances); Roger Zelazny (the mythology mixed with contemporary slang); James Branch Cabell (the droll speech patterns of Boreas, the school's headmaster); Clark Ashton Smith (the descriptions of otherworldly realms); A.A. Attanasio (the gnostic interplay between gods and humans); C.S. Lewis (the Narnia-style trope of teens with noble secret identities); and so forth and so forth, with more allusions that I've probably even overlooked.

This kind of homage-laden, deep-lineage fiction can get over-intellectual and stultifying in the wrong hands. But Wright keeps it fresh and sprightly, mainly thanks to never losing sight of the teenage high spirits of his protagonists, especially his perfect narrator, Amelia.

Pick it up. After all, who can resist an author who, after having converted to Catholicism, insists that "If Vulcans had a church, they'd be Catholics." It's refreshing to read the works of a man who knows exactly, in the wonderfully chaotic way that science fantasy makes the impossible possible, where he's heading, be it in fiction or in life. Enjoy!

Ministry by the River

Now that the two most hectic, troubling, inspiring and enlightening weeks of my life, at least for the 1st quarter of 2008, is officially over and done with, I can finally blog again. Odd, though. I thought that my return to blogging would be accompanied by a deep sigh of relief, followed quickly by a quiet satisfaction at a job well done. My experiences however with Tim Hughes, Worship Central and the Singapore Alpha Conference have left me wonderfully scarred: I can't wait to get back to work!

As such, let me leave you with a glimpse of the uplifting work done by truly remarkable people by the Pasig River. I rarely indulge in posting more than one photo in any of my entries, but this is that rare occasion where I find my words unable to convey clearly what my fuzzy pictures express succinctly. Many thanks to Tent of Praise, Rommel Guevara, and the tireless missionary workers in West Rembo and Pineda. I hope to work with you guys again!

Easter Reflection

As the Lenten season draws to a close, I find myself reflecting not only on my life but on how "Easter" has taken a life of its own, at least in comparison with Christmas. In James Martin's Slate article Happy Crossmas! he raises some rather interesting points regarding the Western perception of Easter.

He begins with an observation:

Unlike Christmas, whose deeper spiritual meaning has been all but buried under an annual avalanche of commercialism, Easter has retained a stubborn hold on its identity as a religious holiday.

And he posits some interesting insights into modern man's tenuous hold on, for lack of a better word, "un-spirituality":

...agnostics and atheists who don't accept Christ's divinity can accept the general outlines of the Christmas story with little danger to their worldview. But Easter demands a response. It's hard for a non-Christian believer to say, "Yes, I believe that Jesus of Nazareth was crucified, died, was buried, and rose from the dead." That's not something you can believe without some serious ramifications: If you believe that Jesus rose from the dead, this has profound implications for your spiritual and religious life—really, for your whole life. If you believe the story, then you believe that Jesus is God, or at least God's son. What he says about the world and the way we live in that world then has a real claim on you.

Easter is an event that demands a "yes" or a "no." There is no "whatever."

I've come to realize that it's very difficult to be Christian. From a purely rational perspective, the passion, death and resurrection of Christ seems unbelievable, and the way in which it unfolds is certainly poor storytelling. If I were to invent a story about a deity, it certainly wouldn't take the form that The Passion of Christ took. But the sense of incompleteness that echoes in the human heart about Christ's story that urges us to complete it by responding to it. It's funny. We've only recently discovered how artfully executed cliffhangers like those that make up tv series like Lost can rope in a rabid audience week after week, but it seems that Christ began cornering the market on a faithful audiences at least two thousand years earlier.

Happy Easter!

Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace

Earlier, the San Antonio Spurs delivered another workmanlike drubbing to the young Cleveland Cavaliers, and despite the enormity of that accomplishment, the very manner in which I described the victory might seem an indictment of the soon-to-be champion Spurs. Before the Finals began, Michael Rosenberg made the following observation:

Ah, the San Antonio Spurs. The more they win, the more you want them to hide under a rock.

In a week and a half — maybe two weeks, depending on LeBron James' level of brilliance — the Spurs will almost certainly win their fourth championship in nine years. It will also be their third title in the last five years.

This will place San Antonio among the elite of the elite. Since the end of the Bill Russell Celtics, only two dynasties won more than four championships: the Magic Lakers and the MJ Bulls. And the Spurs should contend for several more years. Tim Duncan is only 31, Manu Ginobili is 29 and Tony Parker is 25.

And what do the Spurs get for their hard work, no-nonsense attitude and unparalleled excellence? Yawns.

This must be the least popular great team in recent sports history. The Spurs do not even evoke the hatred of the Yankees or Notre Dame, institutions that have long had the best of everything and lord it over the masses. They make you feel the way you once felt about chemistry class — as soon as you sit down, you get a headache and can't wait for the bell to ring so you can go anywhere else in the world.

Recently, Henry Abbott of TrueHoop took Rosenberg's assessment even further, insisting that there is a cautionary tale in there somewhere, that the basketball fan has gotten exactly what he or she wants, and is just a little embarrassed at what getting that preference implies:

That's the thing about digging your heels in and howling about what you want. Sometimes the worst thing that can possibly happen is that you get it, and realize you were wrong all along.

It's not a proud moment for anyone.

Like, all us who have been upset for, oh, the last twenty years, about how the players in the NBA don't have a solid grasp on fundamentals. Or they commit too many crimes. Or they are too flashy, top hip hop, too spotlight hungry, too violent, too ... whatever it is.

World of hand-wringers, your team is here. Has been here for years. The San Antonio Spurs are exactly what you said you always wanted.

Abbott goes on, by way of citing Harvey Araton of The New York Times, that:

They put the Spurs on the cover of a magazine, and the numbers show you won't buy it. They put the Spurs on posters and DVDs and the numbers show you're more interested in Paris Hilton. They put the Spurs on national TV, and the numbers will likely show tonight that many of you prefer to watch violent mob shows on premium channels.

The New York Times' Harvey Araton (Select) is marveling at the same thing.

But where is the love for a franchise that thrives on visionary planning, progressive thinking, commitment and continuity? That over the past decade has become the furthest thing from a big-market bully that owes its success to a carnivorous payroll? That has seldom housed me-first braggarts, incorrigible trash talkers, gun toters or pit-bull players?

In San Antonio, the retired David Robinson spent millions of dollars to found and operate a private school for disadvantaged children. Duncan and others blend seamlessly into the city, where people seem to address them all on a first-name basis.

No player's personal issue is bigger than the team, as demonstrated this season when Coach Gregg Popovich made Manu Ginóbili, a player with All-Star credentials, his sixth man. On the whole, aren't the loyal and law-abiding Spurs exactly what those most critical of the N.B.A. have said the league has lacked after it embraced the shoe-company-driven agenda of selling style over substance?

"No character issues, professionalism, preparation - everything people always say they want, it's all happening right here," the Spurs' Brent Barry said.

Araton blames the trend at least a little on regionalism. If the Spurs were based in New York, he says, Tim Duncan would be hailed as the next Willis Reed. Eva and Tony would be in all the tabloids.

And no doubt, he's right, to a point. But it's not only about big market vs. small market. Even San Antonio isn't totally in on the secret -- according to the box score, Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals was almost 500 seats short of a sellout.

The conference finals! The only major league team in town! The pride of South Texas! Empty seats!

Maybe in a big market this team is a compelling narrative. Maybe if Tim Duncan would let the media in a little it would be different. Or maybe it's time to admit that, despite what we may have told the waitress when we sat down, we wanted to watch Kobe Bryant and Allen Iverson all along.

With the gauntlet thus thrown, where rooting for the Cavaliers (as my good friend Jason de Villa is inclined to doing) is tantamount to associating one's love of the game with the tradition of the epic hero (or at the very least, a larger than life figure) and rooting for the Spurs is tantamount to associating one's love of the game with a profound sense of community (such as teamwork, unselfishness, and an appreciation for the virtues of work), how shall this blogger meet this challenge?

There's nothing wrong with wanting to be inspired by larger than life figures. After all, for most casual NBA fans, basketball is primarily about rooting for (literally) larger than life figures. However, while it is almost a singular joy to witness individual superhuman feats such as LeBron's coming of age game against the Pistons, there is a particularly satisfying joy to be derived from reveling in the quiet, consistently excellent play of the Spurs. Basketball is an apt metaphor for many good things in life, as my friend Joel Parcon takes pains to illustrate in his wonderful entry on theater and basketball. I enjoy rooting for the Spurs because their dedication to selfless team play and intelligent basketball is in fact inspirational, if not quite spiritual.

There's nothing wrong with simply getting the job done. Moreover, getting the job done in such workmanlike fashion. The Spurs are more than craftsmen. The very ordinariness of their victories, and the fact that they thrive on one another's sacrifices to produce sublime basketball performances make them artisans of the highest order. Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Tim Duncan comes courtesy of Tim Duncan Rooting For Cavaliers For Good Of NBA. Click on the link. You know you want to.

Alpha Conference: A Bridge to London

I would like to apologize to the city of Cagayan de Oro, which, despite the allure of its succulent food and the promise of adventure via white water rafting, nevertheless lost out to London as the next stop on my travels for the summer.

I'm heading to Holy Trinity Brompton, an Anglican church right across the 2nd largest Catholic cathedral in London. the London Oratory, to attend the Alpha Conference. For those who are unaware of this remarkable initiative, here's a brief description:

"Alpha is an opportunity for anyone to explore the Christian faith in a relaxed setting over ten thought-provoking weekly sessions, with a day or weekend away.

It is low-key, friendly and fun – and is supported by all the main Christian denominations."

I'm attending the sessions related to developing Alpha in a Catholic context, which I personally find very exciting, what with my deep admiration for Scott Hahn and layman preacher Bo Sanchez.

Still, the journey of a thousand miles has to begin from the decidedly mundane surroundings of Ninoy Aquino International Airport, an airport which, in itself, constitutes a trial of faith. I remain optimistic though. Hope springs eternal. I feel change whistling in the wind.

Picture of the London Oratory comes courtesy of The Victorian Web.

Acquired Tastes: A Public Trust

For reasons I cannot as of now enumerate, both personal and professional, I've been (belatedly) trying to hasten my own education in citizenship by scouring the web for intelligent political analysis. Despite my relative naivety regarding politics, I was confident that my finely tuned crap detector would be able to separate the chaff from the grain, so to speak.

One recent discovery is Newsbreak Online. While I may not always agree with their insights into Philippine politics, their writing is brave, intelligent, and, this may come as a surprise for many who have preconceived notions regarding the editorial slant of Newsbreak, at times rooted in a spirituality which speaks of the finest qualities of the Filipino. From the touching story of how three term San Fernando town mayor 47-year-old Sabas “Abang” Mabulo, is attempting to perform a miracle by running against my old friend Diosdado "Dato" Arroyo in the 1st congressional district of Camarines Sur ("I am pitted against money and a powerful political machinery. But God's wonder never ceases," Mabulo says) to their coverage of the longterm implications of Fr. Ed Panlilio's candidacy for Governor of Pampanga, Newsbreak has featured quite a lot of inspiring political stories rooted in either our Catholic or Christian heritage.

It's about time that we acknowledge the profound role that our faith plays in our politics. As was previously blogged about by my good friend (and former student) Jan Vincent Ong in his blog entry on the public nature of Francisco "Soc" Rodrigo's faith, which I reproduce here in part:

"We are all Catholics, and we are all citizens. So far, we have not experienced the slightest difficulty in being both. In fact, knowing our Catholic faith as we do, it seems obvious to us that the better Catholics we are, the better citizens we shall be"

We should not be afraid to raise the specter of argument regarding the separation of church and state. Rather, we should embrace it. Otherwise, however will we determine how one could both serve and believe? It is ridiculous to assume that one cannot do both, in the same way that it is ridiculous to assume that all decisions conducted largely out of one's beliefs are either completely wrong or completely right.

This is why I would like to insist that in order for political discussion to be relevant, it has to be inherently spiritual. Simply put, we reserve the right to aspire for more. We owe it to our children.

Requiescat in Pace

Please pray for the repose of the soul of my grandmother, Carmen Vargas Borra, who passed away peacefully earlier this morning. A beautiful, elegant woman, she willfully chose to be a wife and mother above else. One could perhaps gently chide her for harboring no ambitions in life, or for never seriously entertaining any pursuits outside of her family. But in retrospect, my Mamang probably had a keener appreciation than most for the finest things in life. Her sole ambition was to raise a happy, loving family. For the most part, and I have only the singular pleasure of having grown up in a family which she had infused with warmth and joy simply by loving my father, one could say that she succeeded. Rest in peace, Mamang.

Saved! Stories Anticipating Easter Sunday

First, I would like to inform my loyal readers that I would like to thank them for being, well, loyal readers, which is why I have the confidence to use the plural form when referring to my readership without a wry self-deprecating remark on its number. Secondly, as I will be busy observing Lent, and preparing for my upcoming trip to Hongkong, I will not be blogging to close to a week. Please feel free to check up on my good friends on the blogroll to the right for your daily dose of intelligent commentary on practically anything.

At any rate, the photo above comes with this story:

My wife’s uncle works in a military hospital and told me about this. Its pretty amazing. Kevin Garrad (3rd Infantry Division) was on a street patrol in Iraq (Tikrit I believe) and as he rounded the corner of a building an armed (AK-47) insurgent came from the other side.

The two of them were within just a few feet of each other when they opened fire. The insurgent was killed and Kevin was hit in the left chest where his IPod was in his jacket pocket. It slowed the bullet down enough that it did not completely penetrate his body armor. Fortunately, Kevin suffered no wound.

It seems that the more progressive elements of society were on to something when they enthused "Rock on!" (Originally quoted in the Flickr thread entitled IPod Saves Soldier's Life by anarav1a.)

In related news, this comes from America's Finest News Source:

In The Ten Commandments, I Performed All My Own Miracles

The article goes on to "quote" Heston as saying:

There was nothing in that movie that I didn't make happen with my own two hands. I realize some of these so-called actors today rely on camera tricks and computers to do their jobs for them, but I'm not one to allow some punk editor to cut and paste me into the middle of a Red Sea I didn't part myself. I rode a chariot in Ben-Hur for Pete's sake, and you can be darn sure I'll channel God's power to move a little water about when I need to.

There was no soundstage. No on-site tank. Just good old-fashioned elbow grease. That's the only way I know how to part a major body of water. I just stretched out my arm, delivered my line, and saved over a million Israelites from their certain death. Difficult? For some, maybe. But I got it in one take and took the crew out for lunch.

Just thought I'd put it in here to round out the day's solemnities with the understanding that Easter Sunday is a celebrating of our greatest joy. Enjoy!

Picture comes courtesy of tikigod.

Lenten Ramblings

At times, it is difficult to follow the tenets of the Christian faith, especially when it involves simple, everyday needs such as nourishment. As it is Good Friday, my participation in the Lenten Season involves fasting and abstinence, a practice which, I suspect, led Jessica Zafra to write the post entitled 28 Days Later, without the infectious zombies. It must be acknowledged though that Ms. Zafra is perfectly capable of making such suggestions with or without the aid of Lent, and that she makes sense, in a very "Damn, I have to rush to confession now" sort of way.

Despite my ravenous hunger, I found some articles on the Net that are worth considering, and not only because they are somehow related to the season. Through Slate's feature OTHER MAGAZINES, I was led to a rather thought provoking article on Robert Mugabe in The Economist. It reads, in part:


A more important relationship, however, may have been with Nelson Mandela. Some date the start of Mr Mugabe's misrule to the emergence of his rival as the great independence hero of Africa. Until Mr Mandela left his apartheid prison, in 1990, Mr Mugabe could do no wrong. He was feted as an anti-apartheid leader, a man who reconciled different races and presided over a shining economy. Mr Mugabe was the star of the region, but then the sun rose.

Mr Mandela promptly stole all his attention; South Africa's vastly bigger economy drew investment, press coverage, foreign plaudits. To Mr Mugabe's evident personal dismay, Zimbabwe was cast into the shade. Mr Mandela's biographer describes Mr Mugabe twitching with distaste and annoyance when the two men met, shortly after the South African won his freedom.

No love is lost between the two elder statesmen. Just as Mr Mandela emerged as the voice of reconciliation and modernity in Africa, Mr Mugabe reverted to populism, land-grabs and bashing foreigners. It is quite possible that Mr Mugabe, increasingly bitter, dreams of holding on to power long enough to see the back of some of his foreign rivals. He would love to be in office when (in the middle of the year, most probably) Mr Blair resigns. Mr Mbeki has only a couple of years to go. Mr Mandela's health is fading fast.

Essentially, the author is suggesting that Zimbabwe's plight under the despot Mugabe came about because of jealousy. Interesting.

On a lighter note (a phrase which caused me no end of consternation due to the frequency of its misuse in my students' papers on Dante's Comedy), here's a snippet from America's Finest News Source:

Senator Forms Subcommittee For The Watching Of Lost

WASHINGTON, DC—Sen. Bill Nelson (D-FL) announced the formation of a new Senate subcommittee for the Watching of Lost and appointed...

"This subcommittee's mission is to promote viewing and discussion of this riveting ABC series every Wednesday night at my house," said Nelson, who lives alone, adding that membership on the subcommittee is open to both parties, requires no seniority, and is "fun." "In addition, I have been able to secure funding for two large pizzas and one two-liter bottle of Pepsi, and have every confidence that I can acquire more."

Sen. Nelson has asked all attendees to arrive on time, do their best to remain quiet during the show's airing, and stick around to discuss the plot and backstory for "as long as you want afterward."

Picture above comes courtesy of The Cathedral Church of Saint Peter in Exeter.

Site-ings

The Philippines is a predominantly Catholic country, but most people I know would readily agree that for most Filipinos, fulfilling the tenets of their faith is largely determined by convenience. If you felt even a twinge of guilt reading the previous sentence, then both you and Gil Grissom would find Absolution Online worth at least the length of time it takes to send an errant pop-up back to virtual Hell.

I don't know what bugs me more though, the fact that their latest update has this proofread gem, "We should always remember that harming against this amazing planet is a sin," that the same update goes on to intone that "While they are not a Christian group, we feel they should be supported - they do not appear to suffer from the blight of paganism which taints so many environmental groups," or that they have an eConfessional.

Still, don't let me stop you from checking it out.

Picture of Gil Grissom comes courtesy of microservios.

Decent?

At times, one could consider the description "decent" an indictment. Consider for example the exchange below:

"How was your meal?"
"Decent."

Isn't that eerily similar to:

"How was your date?"
"Mabait."
"No, really. How was your date?"

Which is why when Luigi Bercades and I stumbled onto Decent Films Guide, I approached it with the deep noncommitment implicit in the retort, "Mabait".

It didn't help that the very first line in About Decent Films read: "Welcome to the Decent Films Guide, a site of film appreciation, information, and criticism informed by Christian faith."

Fortunately, it gets a whole lot better from there. While I cannot bring myself to agree with some of the reviews that Mr. Greydanus pens, I have to admire the discipline with which he adheres to a rational Christian perspective, as in his review of the film American Beauty:

"Some movies have a moral. I say that as a mere statement of fact, with no implication that either having or not having a moral necessarily makes a movie better or worse. Some movies have a moral; American Beauty — and this is also a mere observation, not a value judgment — has an aesthetic."

As such, I suggest that people who are genuinely interested in exploring an overtly Christian film aesthetic to head on over to Decent Films Guide to, if not agree, then argue with Mr. Greydanus's thoughtful reviews. It's the "decent" thing to do, I suppose.

Picture Credits:
The person depicted above is, by no stretch of the imagination, "mabait".

How to Deal

The Discovery Channel has just aired another controversial documentary, The Lost Tomb of Jesus. Before Christians start overreacting to the documentary or the actions of the executive producer, Oscar award-winning filmmaker James Cameron, kindly read this from Rod Bennett's blog, Tremendous Trifles. While you're there, find time to click on the online version of Hilaire Belloc's classic essay, The Approach to the Skeptic. Good reading.

Picture of Indiana Jones comes courtesy of Indiana Jones.

Losing our Religion? Have a Little Faith!

I dropped by Jessica Zafra's blog recently, which had this entry on the new wiki, Conservapedia,:

“In Christian discourse, the name Jesus almost always refers specifically to Jesus of Nazareth, believed by Christian followers to be God’s dad, who came to earth as a human c 2 AD. However, God has recently revealed on His blog that Jesus is actually His nephew, not His son.”

This prompted Ms. Zafra to conclude: "The American religious right: Stephen Colbert’s unpaid writers pool."

Of course, the corresponding entry on Jesus has been changed to this, but the damage has been done. The Onion's A.V. Club already has an entry on the supposed inaccuracies of Conservapedia, which ends with:

"I don't know about all of you, but I'm really looking forward to the day when conservatives, in response to the obvious liberal bias of the angle of the spigots, make their own separate, conservative drinking fountains."

For people looking for a reasonable, insightful and well-intentioned alternative to the overly conservative Christian resources out there, a personal favorite is Mark Shea's blog, Catholic and Enjoying it!, which offers commentary such as "The Antichrist is the reduction of Christianity to an ideology, instead of a personal encounter with the Savior." (an observation which stems from a meditation message delivered by Roman Catholic Cardinal Giacomo Biff) as well as fun entries such as the satirical "Uncomfortable Questions about the Death Star Attack":

6) How could any pilot shoot a missile into a 2 meter-wide exhaust port, let alone a pilot with no formal training, whose only claim to fame was his ability to “bullseye womprats” on Tatooine? This shot, according to one pilot, would be “impossible, even for a computer.” Yet, according to additional evidence, the pilot who allegedly fired the missile turned off his targeting computer when he was supposedly firing the shot that destroyed the Death Star. Why have these discrepancies never been investigated, let alone explained?

7) Why has their been no investigation into evidence that the droids who provided the rebels with the Death Star plans were once owned by none other than Lord Vader himself, and were found, conveniently, by the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, and who is also believed to be Lord Vader’s son? Evidence also shows that the droids were brought to one Ben Kenobi, who, records indicate, was Darth Vader’s teacher many years earlier! Are all these personal connections between the conspirators and a key figure in the Imperial government supposed to be coincidences?

8) How could a single missile destroy a battle station the size of a moon? No records, anywhere, show that any battle station or capital ship has ever been destroyed by a single missile. Furthermore, analysis of the tape of the last moments of the Death Star show numerous small explosions along its surface, prior to it exploding completely! Why does all evidence indicate that strategically placed explosives, not a single missile, is what destroyed the Death Star?

Mark Shea's intriguing mix of both highbrow intellectual debate with gently subversive humor, is, in the end, the best argument for Christianity. Check it out.

Picture of Darth Vader comes courtesy of Basement, #24, The Art of Barry Bradfield.