The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,36
the subject, Miss Planter? I don’t remember saying anything interesting, although I’m glad you enjoy listening to me.”
“You said the human condition. What are your views of the human condition? How do we all exist, or fit into this worldview of yours?”
“My worldview?” I repeated. I’ve always wanted someone to ask me about that. “Ha! I have a very small world, Miss Planter. I suppose my family and friends, from school and college and church have formed much of my worldview. Hopefully these views reflects what the scriptures say; they don’t always line up, and I’m continually surprised how out of line I am, but it’s good to have a place to start in order to get a proper worldview.”
This last sentence made Miss Planter sit up straighter. “’Proper worldview’? Is there any such thing as having a ‘proper worldview’? Aren’t all people free to have their own worldview?”
“Yes, you’re right,” I said. “I didn’t mean to sound authoritative. We’re all free to have and form our own opinions of how things are and how the world should be, but, as I said, this comes from church, so I’d like to get in line with that.”
“What does your church say about the human condition?” she asked.
“It says quite a bit. It says we’re people, humans, not animals; we’re made in the image of God. That’s not saying we look like God, but we reflect God; we’re creatures, created by an infinite being, which makes us finite. We have limits. We were born, we’ll live a short while, and we’ll die. The reason we die is because of the “fall,” or sin. We’re corrupt. We’re so corrupt we don’t even know how corrupt we are. You’ll agree with this.”
“I would?” said Miss Planter, a little startled at that. “How do you know?”
“Well, we’ll find out with a few questions. Mind if I ask you some questions, counselor?”
Miss Planter, wary but curious, said, “By all means.”
“Do you consider yourself to be a good person, Miss Planter?”
“Well, I suppose I do,” she said, “Sometimes. Hopefully most of the time.”
“Do you consider yourself to be a perfect person, Miss Planter?”
“No, I wouldn’t presume to go that far. I’m not perfect.”
“You’re saying then, that you admit to having a flaw or two?”
“I suppose most people would agree that they have a few flaws. Where is this going, Mr. Owen?”
“I’m trying to ascertain that you agree that you’re not perfect. You’re not, are you?”
“No, I’m not. I’ll concede that I’m not.”
“Well, then… why aren’t you perfect?”
“What?” she asked, with another startled look.
“You heard me,” I said. “Why aren’t you perfect? You’re good, aren’t you? What keeps you from being perfect, from going ahead and making that leap, that jump from good to perfect?”
Flustered, Miss Planter said, “Well, I’m not; well, nobody can… that is, nobody’s perfect.”
“Nobody’s perfect? Is that what I heard you say, Miss Planter?”
“Yes, you’re correct. I said that nobody’s perfect. It’s impossible for anybody to be perfect,” she yielded.
“You’re right,” I remarked, trying not to sound too smug, and suppressing a grin. “It is impossible for anybody to be perfect. So you agree with me.”
“I what?”
“You agreed with me. Nobody’s perfect. We’re flawed. We’re corrupt.”
“Yes… I suppose we are.”
“And why are we not perfect?” I asked. “Why are we in this condition?”
“I suppose you’d say because of the fall.”
“Yes, I would. We’ve fallen. We were created with no sin, but we’ve fallen into sin. Now we’re a mess.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.”
“You wouldn’t?” I was a bit surprised by that remark. “Well, I suggest taking a look at the daily newspaper and you’ll see that …”
“You’re saying this is your worldview of the human condition?” asked Miss Planter.
“Yes, it is.”
“You don’t leave much room for hope, then.”
“I would think that Christ gives man hope.”
Miss Planter’s eyes lit up for a moment, then quickly looked to her clipboard, and then she pretended to write.
“Man is a mess” she wrote and read out loud slowly.
”Yes, that’s what I said,” hoping she wouldn’t be too angry with me. So I tried to lighten things up a bit.
“What you’ve just heard was brought to you by the Reformed Christian church,” I said, sounding like a commercial, hoping for a laugh. “This is not a popular worldview. Hope I haven’t scared you with this.”
“Oh, no, you haven’t scared me.” She looked over the top of her clipboard. “I know a few professors you’d scare, though.”
I laughed. “Sometimes it’s fun to scare people, Miss Planter!”