A logical resolution
for the New Year

Have you ever in your life heard someone say "I'm basically an illogical person"? I never have. I suppose any mind capable of the self-realization to answer that question could not be truly illogical. Since we're all self-proclaimed logical folk, let's attempt a logical look at this New Year we've entered.

Let's see. Logically speaking, what are some key areas for potential improvement? I could improve my marriage with a few more date nights. Landscaping the house would be a sweet move. Squeezing in some extra exercise in '06 is certainly a must. Frankly, though, I find such watery resolves banal – "good intentions paving the road to hell."

Logical resolution, however, is a different cup of brew. The force of true logic strikes the throat like the steel edge of a sword. Logical resolution accosts unexpectedly. "You don't like being fat? The chocolate Santa Claus goes in the trash. NOW!" Sound, logical resolution doesn't come easily, but once attained, it steamrolls "good intention" every time.

Logic is defined in Webster's as "the science of correct reasoning." The Latin root for logic is legere – to collect and put in order. Hence, to think "logically" is to correctly order one's thoughts towards a reasonable and realistic plan or conclusion. When I reach a conclusion (or resolution) via logic, it's alloyed with absoluteness. In combating irrational and faulty thinking, unsheathed logic shreds even my most cherished notions – like eating a chocolate Santa Claus or worshipping – uh, watching the NFL – on Sundays.

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Logic strips away presumption until naked truth is exposed. My "good intention" may promise to be a kinder, gentler person in '06, but logic hacks out a pathway of possibility. It cuts through facade, pierces into a bitter, roiling soul, and places it's blade on a sick, exposed inner rage. I may determine to be kinder and gentler, but without slaying the underlying monster, my intention is illogical. It fails the test of reason, and is just another disposable resolve.

The Bible prescribes a profoundly logical approach to life. "Come now, let us reason together says the Lord," says the prophet Isaiah. God, a perfectly logical Being, requires of us, who are made in His image, logical self-examination. Truth be told though, my weaknesses and past failures collide violently with such required assessing of my future. But God, being ever so kind, sweetens this bitter pill for me.

A favorite New Testament title for Jesus Christ is "the Word" – "logos" in the Greek. Its root meaning is "calculation or logic." In Jesus, the repelling pricks and stabs of bare logic take on embraceable form. His hands expose my wounds, yet they were pierced to heal me. His eyes penetrate my flaws, yet He wept to renew me. His feet drew Him near, then marched Him off to die for me. In Christ, the brutal collision of failure and logic is transformed into "weakness made strong." Christ works life and logic into a comfortable fit.

Blaise Pascal was a 17th century Christian who lived in harmony with life and logic. He was both philosopher and physicist. Skeptics targeted his faith with ridicule, and branded him "illogical." In the dawning light of "Enlightenment" France, Pascal's peers scorned his Bible-based beliefs as archaic, superstitious, and infantile. He fended them off with a sword of logic known as "Pascal's Wager." His challenge to the unbeliever was simple: Christ claimed Himself to be both incarnate God and lone Savior of mankind. He is either who He said He was or He wasn't. You can either believe or reject His claim. Each of us, therefore, stands in one of four relationships to Christ:

1. Jesus is Who He said He was, and I believe His claim
2. Jesus is Who He said He was, and I reject His claim
3. Jesus isn't Who He said He was, and I believe His claim
4. Jesus isn't Who He said He was, and I reject His claim

Pascal then pressed logic's sword to the throat: "If Jesus isn't Who He said He was, then your rejection of Him is right and my belief in Him is wrong. Even so, I will have lived a good, happy life believing a lie and it will cost me nothing in the future. If, however, He is Who He said He was, then my faith in Him is right and your unbelief is wrong. You will have rejected Christ in this life and the cost will be eternal damnation in the next. I, in accepting Christ, lose little (if anything) in this life and stand to gain all for eternity. You, in rejecting Christ, gain little (if anything) in this life and stand to lose all for eternity. Whose wager is more logical?"

The crux of Pascal's argument lies in weighing the value of limited temporal gain against potential eternal loss. It's akin to wagering a sip of beer against your child's life – a fool's bet. Does logic lead one to wager an eternity in hell on the hope that Jesus Christ is wrong? I settled the issue for myself years ago. I bet my life and eternity on Jesus Christ. There's no shred of regret in so doing. I cannot, for the life of me, fathom heading into the New Year wagering my soul against Jesus Christ.

It's not logical.