GOOD GOD OF IRONY

I asked students to describe an episode of irony from their own lives. Ryan retorted, “I choked on a lifesaver once.” Touché. I’ve “choked on a lifesaver.” It’s when the thing that should be adding value to your life steals it instead. And wouldn’t you know that this is the subject of most of my contemporary theological discussions?

I went to a UCLA Football game tonight at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California. For the record, the Bruins bested the Arizona State Sun Devils 29-28 in a game for the annals. But the subplot is clearly the irony of life defined by sports/entertainment/sexualized subculture. People find their identity in the aforementioned things and therein lies the irony. Because dude, beer can’t give you life. Neither can the chick in Row 50 Seat F with all that make-up on. There’s junior highers flirting with high schoolers and rival college students presenting the keg-life as legendary to young onlookers.

There’s always the risk of sounding like a human diatribe whenever you bring attention to the irony of life but it’s worth the rant. The point is not that Bacon wrapped hot dogs are sinful or that I paid $8 for a carne asada burrito. It’s not even that so much is being sold at a college football game. The irony is in the fact that football is a gift as is a beautiful stadium nestled against foothills while the canopy of the cosmos canvases human activity like exquisite decor. The irony is that we seek life in “artificially flavored” segments as if the natural divine ingredients of our Saturday afternoon are not enough to satisfy. Irony has become virtually unrecognizable because we’ve acquired quite the taste for worshiping human creations. There is time yet, however, to move back into a mode of valuing experiences, good conversations and a perfect spiral that hits a wide-out in stride for a 76-yard touchdown. Realized irony in our human ranks could be one of our Lord’s greatest revelations.