Chaos and Conspiracy Theories

by Ben Howard 

4% of your fellow citizens believe the United States government is run by “lizard people.”

For those of you who are curious about the validity of this number, it comes from a poll conducted by Public Policy Polling last April and the margin of error was 2.8%. That’s right, not only does this poll say 4% of Americans believe lizard people are running the government, it’s also within the margin of error thus making it a statistically significant portion of the population. I always knew that democracy was a bad idea.

Now, I don’t really think this number is accurate. I would be shocked to find out that 1 out of every 25 people really believe that advanced lizard people have taken control of the government in order to…well, I don’t really know what they’re doing. It strikes me as far more likely that approximately 2% of the population likes to mess around with the heads of their friendly neighborhood pollsters, and that another 2% of respondents don’t understand how polls work.

But maybe a few of the people who said, “Yes, I do think Barack Obama is a reptile” really meant it, and though I may believe these people are delusional, I also envy them. I envy them in the same way that I envy the 28% of Americans who believe in the New World Order, or the 7% that believe the moon landing was faked, or even the 51% who believe that JFK was killed in a conspiracy.

I envy them because they live in a world where things make sense, where there are always people in control, and where chaos does not direct the major movements of life.

Even if all these conspiracy theories point to a kind of dystopian society, it’s still an appealing idea. While it may be a bit disheartening to think that the government deceived us all by faking the moon-landing, at least you believe in a government that has the capacity to perform to the highest level when the occasion calls for it. And while it’s a bit depressing to believe that the world is run by a secret international cabal of financiers (led by Beyonce of course), at least it means the world is manageable.

We fear chaos. We are afraid of the uncontrollable, the untamable, and the unpredictable.

It makes me wonder if we believe in God for the same reasons that some believe in conspiracy theories. It’s certainly part of the story of how God interacts with his people. In Genesis, God binds in the chaos of the waters, in Exodus she controls nature, and in Israel he directs the rise and fall of an empire. In Jesus, we see God conquering the chaos and destruction of diseases, even death. Paul tells us that Christ’s resurrection overcomes the chaos of sin.

So is God a conspiracy theory? Is God a way in which we comfort ourselves that though things seem unmanageable, there is someone with the power to control, someone to whom things make sense, someone directing the major movements of life so that chaos will not overcome us?

Or perhaps God is the chaos. When we attribute a natural disaster to the hand of God, are we just trying to make sense of of the senseless? Maybe the stories we tell about God, or more specifically, the stories we tell about humanity and God, are our way of rationalizing something that we can’t possibly hope to understand, the interaction with the divine.

What if the stories we tell ourselves, the faith we pass along, the narratives we read, the religion we profess, the Bible, the miracles, the theology, what if all of that is the conspiracy? What if it’s all an attempt to manage and reckon with the chaos of a God who will not be confined, will not be managed, and will not be tamed?

What if all the constructs of religion and faith that we’ve built are simply an attempt to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense?

What if this chaos is what we call holy? 

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87. 

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. If you'd like to support what we do, you can donate via the button on the right of the screen.

Image Credits:
Image #1 via Roy Niswanger 
Image #2 via Jingjing Cheng 
Image #3 via Cody Cox 
  

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On Holy Accidents

by Ben Howard

A good portion of my life is filled with accidents. From happy accidents to fun accidents to painful accidents where I stub my toe, my life is full of the accidental. Sometimes I even describe myself as an accidental iconoclast. I didn’t mean to dissect your long-held traditional belief system. Sorry!

I’m not a suave man, but the single suavest (suaviest? Suavful?) thing I’ve ever done was entirely accidental. I went to see a local band perform a few years ago and there was a $5 cover at the door. By accident I gave the guy a $10. He, in his infinite money handling wisdom, assumed I was paying for the girl standing in line behind me. A girl, I should mention, that I did not know in any way.

He stamped my hand and I proceeded on. Then he went to stamp the girls hand, and she stared, confused about why she did not have to pay. Realizing what was going on, I awkwardly turned, winked (yeah, I winked, what of it?) and said, “I got you,” before strolling off into the dimly lit bar.

Now, you might ask, “Did you get her number?” or “Did you dance with her?” or a number of other perfectly reasonable follow-up questions. The answer to all of those is no. I simply reveled in my accidental (and illusory) coolness. I’m not a suave man and my accidental awesomeness was overwhelming in the moment.

Not every accident is such a ridiculous example of my insane interpersonal skillz (z’s are cool, like bowties). There are other accidents too; accidents of beauty and meaning, accidents of time and space that bring us closer to something bigger, something more important, something else. And these accidents can be so small; tiny stories that hang on to us for years.

When I was a freshman in college I would go to this weekly devotional that our school sponsored. It was held in this kind of strange abandoned building on campus, in a room full of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city. It was beautiful and there were candles. It was the Platonic ideal for a suburban evangelical worship space.

One night, while everyone was singing and losing themselves in the music, I slipped out the back. I’m not sure why I left, maybe I needed to go to the bathroom, maybe I needed a drink of water, or maybe I just wanted to be alone. I can’t recall.

When I walked out of the room, I turned left down a long hallway that lead downstairs and I noticed a figure huddled in an alcove off to the right. As I walked closer I could hear the figure, a girl, crying in the shadows, her face buried in her arms.

I knelt down across from her and asked her what was wrong. She told me. She cried. I hugged her. We prayed. And it was beautiful.

I don’t remember what she was crying about. I don’t remember what I said. I don’t remember what we prayed. I don’t even know her name, or what her face looks like.

But I know we shared that moment. That moment of fleeting beauty, that accident where heaven and earth collided, where the Spirit, whatever it may be, moved and danced and sang and spun around us and through us and was with us.

So often I fall under the delusion that it’s the grand things, the big things, that are supposed to be awe inspiring, but maybe it’s actually those small moments, those seemingly random accidents of time and space, the one’s where the beauty and the simplicity combine to absolutely shatter your preconceived notions of God, maybe those are the moments that truly inspire awe.

Those moments are holy, fleeting glimpses of eternity in the present; holy visions of beauty, power, pain, joy and everything in between.

My life is full of accidents. Some are happy, some funny. And some, some are holy.

Peace,

Ben

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast (see!) and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

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