Potato Chips From Mars

  This really ought not bother me as much as it, in fact; does. Does anyone even recall when all of this began? You know what we are talking about here, it is those darned stories about Mars, and (is it more than one?) the ridiculous meteorite(s) "found".
  I want to say that it was back in the eighties, or nineties when we first heard that (now get this), down in Antarctica, a sliver of rock was "found". It was "proven to" have come from Mars. Was it because of some lichens or moss found on it? Do you recall this? The thing was supposedly launched, not only into orbit, but with enough boost to leave Martian orbit? Furthermore, the rascal then found it's way into earth's gravitation and next, "chose to" land on a land mass, amid a world in which the majority is surfaced with water? Upon that land mass, it next volunteered to bury itself; not in miles thick ice, where you might expect it to, but just kinda ends up bouncing down on a beach? Then it had the remarkable savvy to find that very very small section of the frozen continent in which people do live (all 14 of them!). "Fortunately", someone (of the 14?) reached down and picked her up! And just to make this bizarre summary truly stupid, we are to infer from the droll, and matter of fact manner of the "scientists", that there is nothing at all unusual in the entire mess!
   Would anyone have objected if instead of a rock, it was a bag of potato chips which had so very marvelously made the long journey?
  Back in the 1950's (I think) there was some talk that an "atomic cannon" might potentially be able to launch (ala' Jules Verne), satellites; thus by-passing the need for rockets. That idea failed. The highest anything could be shot upward was in  the neighborhood of 60 miles, and then the stinker would invariably proceed to obey Mr. Newton. So, a rifled round, with an a-bomb behind it, could not even orbit the world, but meanwhile, a "volcano" on Mars ejecting rock out of a very unrifled caldera, not only achieves orbit, but boosts beyond escape velocity! Makes tons of sense to me.
   The series of flukes required to have the thing end up, unshattered by the explosion on Mars, uncooked by the re-entry into our atmosphere, unshattered (again) upon impact, to be found (why not buried?) upon a tiny spit of land, which itself rings a continent of ice, which in turn, sits amid oceans of water; is far-fetched at the very best. But, most disturbing of all, is that in the very narrative itself, we are not free to question even a word of this fairy tale, for one huge reason; and that reason is very unreasonable indeed! Simply said, it is the religious issue of the origin of life.
   If the science guys can make it convincingly appear that life as life, is not limited to this world, and further, that the "spontaneous" appearance of same, is the norm, then their whole religion of order automatically appearing out of chaos is given a big apologetics type assist. The "Martian rock" is not about Mars, nor rocks. It is the desperate attempt of some, to stifle, and silence the voices of others. This is where you come in. It is the end of discussion, and the imposition of dogma, by those deeming themselves "more equal".
   Modern cosmology, and the life sciences are fully committed to an anti-God premise. In this polluted stream of thought, the mere act of "being against", is thought itself to be "scientific". And if some poor sap is silly enough to question this "orthodoxy", he is simply institutionally dumped. A guy can get some serious unemployment numbers racked up, right here! It is "unlawful" (verboten!) to believe that life was created, it "must have" simply occurred, otherwise everything we scientists have asserted is junk...and we can't have that! This is what the Martian bag of potato chips is really all about. Now, we all know this, but what of it? Why even discuss such?
  And I think it is this: We are never going to "convince", but we ourselves are convinced. We are not going to alter, but we have been altered. We ourselves, are the "absolutely unlikely", and we consistently talk as if there were nothing at all unusual about us? The "probability" at absurdly low levels, that we would "be" here, so to be making, or reading this blog entry; is to just be taken "at face value"! So, from our example then, the "bag of potato chips" blown out of a volcano on another world, so to go floating for thousands (or millions?) of years in space, thus to be being pulled down by the Earth, correctly finding that abysmally small section of a world to land upon, cleverly avoiding incineration upon re-entry, thus to be "accidentally found"; and surviving all this, in order to show the intact moss and lichen marks of authenticity,...is us!
   Easter is upon us. The great-good God looking down the corridor of history,...saw you! What precisely are the "odds" that you would "be"? I mean, what if Mom had had a headache that night? What if there had been an argument that evening, and Dad was sleeping on the couch?  What if Mom had not herself been born, because her mother miscarried? The series of flukes, luck, and strange intersections of chance required for your very existence to "be", make potato chips from outer space seem pretty darned reasonable! The enormously impossible "odds" of interplanetary potato chip deliveries, are about in the same arena as yours, maybe even better? Then take further, the "odds" that you would love and or trust Him? Please, stop the madness! If "science" has ever "proven" anything at all, it is that we humans, without serious motivation, cannot and will never admit for one moment, His Person, work, or truth. So, even if you were somehow born into this world, even if you did amazingly survive, the "odds" are running in negative numbers that you would ever acknowledge, (much less, love!) Him!
   We are both unwilling and unable. We are both pointed the wrong direction, and confused about the correct goal. We are doubly disqualified, and yet we find our own hearts and minds to indeed have been altered. The dignity of man is founded upon the shocking truth that he has no business existing, and honestly does not "belong" here in the first place...and yet he does, and he does! He cannot "explain himself". The freakishly small chances of chips from Mars, speak of an origin far from here, by a mind we have only guessed at, directed unerringly to an improbable sliver of reality. A sparrow landing upon a phone line in a gale force wind, is far far more likely than potato chips from Mars. And they, (the chips) are more likely than you! She, our sparrow friend, also does not "belong", and yet, there she sits; singing her little heart out! Your unlikely nature, your diminishingly small odds of being here to read this, is a message, a sign!
   He likes you! Do you see? He intends you, He awaits that final barbecue-dip, dash of flavor on these highly improbable chips, called "you". And that is why they, (the science folk I mean) are not to be mocked, nor sneered at. They are trying as hard ever as they can, to "remember", to recall their own deeply improbable dignity, to find their own highly unlikely place at His table. We say to them as he said to us, "Drop your weapons, come out with your hands up, and be seated, dinner is served!". His command to surrender, coupled with the invitation to dinner, He Himself, the Supreme Unlikely, He, in Person, the Friend Unguessed. From Him we find a new strength to welcome those hating us. For they despise us much for  the same kinds of reasons that we (wrongly) hated Him.
   The King has turned his foes into brothers, His haters into His friends. We are the deeply, the profoundly...unlikely. For this we give thanks, He is risen indeed!