Through the Mist

Yesterday was my future in-laws anniversary. In the spirit of celebration, we spent the day together shopping down at the Plaza, eating at the Cheesecake Factory and traipsing around in the surprisingly not-so-spacious four story Barnes and Noble. After all of that, and a brief stop by Quik Trip for Dwight's second favorite coffee, we decided to go and see a movie. Since we hadn't checked the time, our decision was based on what was playing next. Our options were Steven King's The Mist, or Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie. Now, normally a decision between Steven King and Jerry Seinfeld is a no-brainer, but The Mist started sooner and my future mother-in-law is a sucker for a crappy horror movie. And so it was.

This is by no means an attempt to review this movie, as it was everything I am sure you might think. Instead, I just wanted to point out a few little somethings I found interesting.

The premise of this movie, in a nutshell, is that the scientists at a particular army base opened a portal to an alternate dimension releasing an evil horde of giant, ugly bugs to wreak havoc in the midst of the accompanying mist. A small group of individuals from a rural community get trapped together in a grocery store and struggle to survive this invasion.

Inside this grocery store are about 30 boring people and 10 actual characters. There is a small group of individuals who appear sane and rational (though this myth is busted before its all said and done). And there are also the eccentric ones. Of course, as in all Steven King works, there is one crazy Christian with no basis in reality.

Through this particular character, it seems that King has a harsh view of faith to present. This supposedly Christian prophetess convinces the masses that these creatures are the judgment of God, and that he will only be satisfied with expiation. Because of this, the people begin to offer certain individuals as sacrifices to the beasts. The woman is so evil that I actually clapped when Ollie the cashier shot her (not a fact I'm particularly proud of). Her attitude and actions are a harsh critique of Christianity as a sensible system of beliefs.

But even more broadly, King seems to have something to say about religion as an expression of humanity. While discussing what to do about their psychotic spiritual leader, Ollie points out that whenever two or more people are put in one place they immediately choose sides and try to kill each other. This is why, Ollie observes, "we invented religion and politics."

Now, I'm not necessarily concerned with Steven King's theology or personal philosophy. Nor do I believe that his not-so-subtle commentaries are endangering the Christian community at large. I just find it odd that such explicit rejections of faith were entirely ignored while Pullman's Compass was the talk of the town. I suppose the reason for such distinction is the demographic at which these movies are aimed. And knowing this is precisely what concerned me.

It seems to me that some amongst us hold two basic beliefs. The first is that children are too impressionable to be exposed to faith systems varying from our own. There are some in the Christian community who cling to indoctrinating the children as long as what is being forced upon them is "Christian."

The second presupposition is that the "grown-ups" are impervious to all sorts of propaganda. Those over the age of 21 cannot be swayed by a clever presentation of some "truth" that is anti-religious, apparently.

What this says to me is that we either under-estimate a child's ability to think, or we greatly over-estimate an adult's. We fear that the children will believe almost anything that they ever hear, particularly if it's not the gospel. But we, as adults, have become either so arrogant or so stubborn that we have nothing to fear from the media's pathetic attempts to change us.

But I'll tell you what I do know, whether its Steven King or Philip Pullman, the anti-religious in the literary world, for all their agendas and maybe because of them, just cannot seem to make a decent transition to the silver screen.

Witherington's Thoughts on Denver

Check out Witherington's post concerning the tragedies in Colorado:
Deck the Malls with Guns and the Gory

A Link, Early on an Icy Monday Morning

This is a quick reminder for those who are in need:
The Forces that Drive us

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Hold on to your lug nuts, it's tiiiiiime for an overhaul.

That's from the movie the mask. Mhmm.

Becoming a typical blogger

The trend in modern blogging seems to be a diligent effort to post a bunch of links to a bunch of stories that prove the blogger's sick addiction to the internet. So, here goes.

Chocolate is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. See?

Go green at home. Recycle.

The only problem with the new Zune is its dependency on such a crappy operating system. Other than that, it rules.

The writers' strike is going to seriously affect my springtime. Count it down.

The Hives. Black and White.

Wow. I just don't feel insensitive enough to comment.

Um... ok...?


Look for a link to Ian's post about "Erotica" soon.

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Over-Confidence.

Here's what I'm going to ask you to do. First, I'm going to ask you to watch this video. Then, I'm going to ask you to read my incredible insights which will sway your opinions. Finally, I'm going to ask you to leave comments telling me how right I am. Easy enough?

When I first watched this little video, I was simultaneously impressed and disgusted. It's pretty obvious that this man knows at least something about the Bible and history. He could quote Scripture, and he certainly did a good job of "shutting the mouths of the heretics."

What bothered me was the stench of his over-powering spiritual cologne. Granted, I believe that Joseph Smith is the cheapest of imitations when compared to Jesus. But this man's arrogance was so far beyond blatant. It was more forceful and rude than any Mormon mission I've ever experienced. His confidence in the words of Christ was well-grounded, to say the least. But his presentation was dismissive and pushy, particularly for a man claiming to "have a conversation." In this midst of his conversation, he flat-out said, "I don't need to listen to you." Way to be the shining example of what you proclaim.

And there is something almost disconcerting about what he quotes from Luke. Jesus said, "For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict." Does this passage apply in this man's situation? Is this an example of being given words to tear down an adversary? And what does this man's demeanor say about his affiliation with a gospel of radical love, even for one's enemies?

I suppose that my concern comes from experiential knowledge, which I admit is not the safest place to begin a theological observation. However, I have been in places and situations where I have been made to look the fool. Does this mean that my faith or salvation is insufficient because I wasn't "given words"?

Also, isn't it obvious that this man had spent some time studying this issues, preparing for this situation. If it was being video taped, it might seem to imply some prep time beforehand. And didn't Jesus say immediately before the verse quoted above, "But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves"?

I guess what made the most uncomfortable is the short explanation at the end. Here, a supposedly true witness of Jesus Christ, brushes off two utterly confused souls and scoffs as the go. Is it a missional participation in the spreading of the kingdom to prove people wrong and laugh as they retreat with their tails between their legs?

However, all complaints aside, I really do like his response to the Book of Mormon. Does the Bible really need the help?

The Writers Strike Back.

And so it has come to this.

In an era defined by our addiction to entertainment and the media, we are now subjected to the whims and wishes of those brilliant minds who dictate to us what is good, noble and true. The writers of Hollywood have decided that they simply do not receive enough of the "cheddar," as some refer to it, to continue doing their jobs. I wanted to take this opportunity to express my under-appreciated thoughts on such a matter, as I feel like the contents of this blog can and will make a difference.

What I find most striking about the entire issue is the unusual sense of entitlement these writers have. How is it that someone pursuing a career as a writer can honestly come to believe that they deserve large salaries? Better writers than those on Desperate Housewives have died penniless. And its not as if the projected income for the entire writing profession is by any means especially "optimistic." And so, I have to ask our dear friends, the writers, "What did you expect?"

And why punish the viewers? What have we done to deserve this? I understand the cruelty of the producers. They are addicted to their money and power like the main character's three episode story-arc addiction to drugs on a bad teen prime time soap. I am not at all convinced that these proud producers are not robbing you blind, but what happened to your good intentions? What about writing to be heard? Didn't you start out with a goal to entertain people? And yet, all of our romantic ideals have been tainted with the color green.

While I hesitate to say this, it's not as if we need TV writers anymore. The next generation spends more time in front of blogs than they do in front of televisions. There, in the safe haven of cyberspace, is an untouched multitude of writers who haven't yet sold out, not to mention all the fine entertainers of YouTube. And if you're mad about the insane amounts of media being plastered all over the internet, striking is not going to draw the viewers eyes away from our MacBooks and PC screens. You are forcing us into the arms of our forbidden lover.

Now, let's not forget the past. In 1988, we endured a similar strike that lasted 22 weeks. It cost somebody somewhere $500 million. And to what avail? The result was the invention of the reality TV show. To me, this sounds a lot like hell, but (oh faithful blog reader, be warned) if you happen to enjoy torture and reality TV, be prepared to be let down. Not even reality shows are safe from this strike, since they themselves have been unionized! Oh the humanity!

Do you remember those times when crises arose, and your favorite television program was interrupted by a celebrity encouraging you to give all of your hard earned money to match the 2% of their weekly salary that they themselves gave? Now I know that a vast majority of these writers are not famous, but in the grand scheme of the universe, are there not better things to protest? Is an increase in royalties really necessary when people are starving to death even in our own country?

What does all of this say about us as a country? Why do these writers control our lives? How can a pudgy man in Hollywood determine how I'm going to spend my prime time hours? It's simply not fair. I don't have any say in what they do.

This whole ordeal has me relieved that I refused to pay for cable.

What the Fundamentalist?

Read this. Listen to this.
Tell me how you feel.


http://reformedvoices.blogspot.com/2007/10/todd-friel-interviews-doug-pagitt-of_24.html

Is Doug Pagitt (and therefore, the entire emergent movement) a proclaimer of heresy?

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Obey your thirst.

Well, I thought I'd pass along a thought-inspiring little blog I read this morning, seeing as how the only people who read this stinking blog are or will be in church ministry. In this particular blog, Scot McKnight asks just how important image is.

Here's the link.
http://www.jesuscreed.org/?p=3002

First and foremost, I'd like to read this book, if there are any Christmas shoppers out there. Secondly, what are your reactions to this type of thinking? It's very close to a very sensitive subject in my heart. There is such rampant hypocrisy in churches that seem to market the gospel. In my own experience, that marketing comes through an image that the church forces all of its members into. Often, I feel like such an image becomes an idol.

But on the other hand, every community emits a vague representation of itself simply through the relationships we have or those we choose distinctly not to have. Does that justify a concern for our image? Is there a place of balance? And how can we reach people who have no concern and no attraction for church? Can we forget how the world looks at us and still be culturally and socially relevant? What about our identity?

Thoughts? Comments?

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Flock.

We all like sheep have gone astray.

I don't think I like sheep. They're stinky. They're boring. And I'm pretty sure that "bah" is sheep language for some form of complaint.

Maybe I don't like sheep because deep down, I'm just another one.

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I'm Emerging. I like Philosophy.

Love is What Makes the World Go Around
The Commune 10.1.07

The world we live in is filled with constant struggle. As I so very slowly grow old, I am beginning to notice that nearly all of our strife stems from relationships. They say that art imitates life, and if so, TV most definitely demonstrates the difficulty of relationships.
Take Felicity, for example. Over the past couple of weeks, Hilary and I have been watching it on DVD. The show chronicles the college career of one girl, Felicity. She moves from California to New York following a boy she barely knows named Ben. When she finally gets to school, she develops a relationship with her RA, Noel, while her new friend, Julie, dates Ben, the boy from California. They struggle through their relationships for almost a whole year. At the end of spring semester, after having cheated on Noel once, Felicity is forced to choose between Noel, the boy she’s been dating all year, and Ben, who just broke up with her friend Julie. Choosing Noel would be the easy solution and would do the least damage to the world around her. Unfortunately, Felicity chooses Ben, ruining her relationship with Noel and Julie. Ben and Felicity date for exactly two episodes before they break up.
Or think about The OC. Ryan moves to a wealthy neighborhood from the slums. He immediately begins dating his new next-door neighbor, Marissa. After a series of strange events, Ryan and Marissa still have a somewhat romantic relationship even though they have become distantly related.
The point is: relationships are complicated. When our hearts are on the line, there is nearly always trouble. And so, we are going to put our study of the Beatitudes on hold. In its stead, we’re going to spend a few weeks talking about relationships. This will be an open discussion. It won’t necessarily be a Bible study, in as it will be a topical study. Therefore, we’re going to bring in different ideas from philosophy, from literature, from our culture and even from experience, as well as the Bible. In truth, this is an exercise in practical theology.

Disclaimer: This study focuses on all of our relationships, and we will begin by discussing relationships as a generality. When I say relationships, I mean our bonds with any persons regardless of gender or attraction. When I say love, I mean love as is issued in the Divine Imperative.

Plato is one of the founding fathers of philosophy. In his work, the Symposium, Plato puts forth his definition of love, somewhat based on the ideas of his tutor, Socrates. The piece is written as Socrates offering his comments on the playwright Aristophanes’ own views. Aristophanes’ felt that love was the continual striving of the soul for one’s other half. He believed that the gods had split every man in two as an act of judgment. Therefore, each man was forced to seek out his other half, and therefore completion.
Socrates adds that man only seeks such completion, if it is truly good. Therefore, for Socrates, we seek the good, and not simply completion. Love is the pursuit of the goodness inside of something. Plato sums up by saying, “Love is desire for perpetual possession of the good.”
This raises some interesting questions: First, is possession a vital aspect of love? Secondly, how does one define the Good?
One must be familiar with Plato’s allegory of the cave and his idea of Forms. Plato felt that all things are merely a shadowy representation of their true essence. The Good in any object is the metaphysical, lofty reality of what is merely represented in its physical form. So to desire the Good is not simply to desire a relationship, or a person, but the highest in its very essence. What this means for us is that as we seek relationships, we must decide what the Good truly is.
Last week, we talked about Kierkegaard’s understanding of purity of heart: “Purity of heart is to will one thing: the Good.” For Kierkegaard, that one thing, that Good was God. He felt that truly loving someone meant encouraging them, driving into the presence of God in a deep intimacy. What is the purpose of our relationships? What is the purpose of our love? Is it to acquire completion? Or is it the pursuit of the Good, namely God? Are our relationships based solely on our desire to have a craving for affection met? Or is our craving for the Author of life and purpose?
Jesus said, “First search for the Kingdom and the righteousness of [God], and everything else will be provided for you.”
In the Symposium, Socrates goes on to say that the pursuit of beauty and goodness necessarily desires the procreation of beauty: to seek the Good means that we desire that Good to continue into the future. The example that Socrates gives is the desire to have children. People desire to reproduce so that they may have an impact on the future, in Socrates’ mind. True love always desires to produce true love. The Good demands that it perpetuate itself. This brings us back to our question about receiving. Is love about the reception, or the continuation of itself?
In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis says, “Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours.” Or hear to the words of the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke, “This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love; the more they give, the more they possess.” The reward for our giving love in relationship is the giving of it, and our growth in its understanding and its practicality.
Our understanding of love and relationships must be centered on the Good. Christ must be our reason for loving and the reward. He must be the source and focal point of our relationships. He must be both the motivation and the goal.
Next week, we’re going to discuss humanity’s designed purpose for having relationships. We’re going to talk about the idea of relational theology, and ask the question of the importance and necessity of living in community with our brothers, our sisters and those who live outside of our own bubble.

How to Have a Prolific Blog...

I decided to follow a lead, and title this post with a completely irrelevant (and even misleading) title. So there.

Do you think preachers say dumb things? Check this out:
http://markdroberts.com/?p=200

Do you hate invitations? Check this out:
http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/abandoning-the-invisible-lifeline

Do you like coffee? Check this out:
http://ianscottpatersonblog.blogspot.com/2007/09/cup-of-coffee.html

That's all I got to say about that.

for jean.

I'm teaching about worship at a retreat coming up in October. Here's my rough draft. Be gentle.

At least once a week, we gather. Some goofy lookin’ guy plays guitar and sings in a microphone so the shy kid in the back won’t have to actually make a sound. The songs always start upbeat, less thought provoking. The lyrics aren’t usually quite as clever to these quicker songs. “We praise you for always and ever,” being the general gist. Then, there’s that one song. It’s that transition song. Most of the time it’s a moderately upbeat song with a catchy chorus. Goofy Guitar Man will play the song through straight-up once, and then the inevitable happens. The song should be over, the last chorus sung, the last chord ringing in the ears of the crowd. Yet, for some reason, Goofy Guitar Man keeps playing, only slower than before. Then he says something to the effect of, “I want you to just think about the words to this song,” right before he drags the whole crowd through a painfully slower rendition of what was once a decently poppy song.

And somehow, it seems that this experience or one similar has come to define what worship is. We judge our worship experiences based on how well the music was performed and whether or not we got goosebumps. For some strange reason, the quality of our worship isn’t based on the quality of the One being worshipped, but on our own responses to it. People ask how worship was, and we respond with varying degrees of how much we “felt” it.

So what is worship anyway? I mean, what is it really? Maybe the easiest place to start is to clarify what worship is not. Worship is not a musical style. In fact, music as a medium does not even scratch the surface of what worship truly is. If worship were simply singing songs and doing dances, then every loser in a karaoke bar would be a saint.

Secondly, worship is not defined by a place. Once, Jesus asked a Samaritan woman for a drink of water. She asked him a question about where the worship was best. Jesus told her that the place of worship is irrelevant compared to its genuine nature.

Third, worship is not an over-charged emotional adrenalin rush. It cannot be measured in buckets of tears or squishy, smelly bear hugs at the altar. Because of this, worship is not a competitive sport where one scores points by raising hands or singing harmony. It is not, contrary to popular belief, driven by what we “get out of it.”
This weekend, we are going to discuss three ideas of worship that I believe are essential to its understanding. The first is this: Worship is entrance into sacred space. In the Old Testament, God instructed Moses to build him a tabernacle. This was the place where God would meet with Moses to guide the people. Later, it was the basis for the Temple. In this layout, there were a series of rooms divided from one another. The central room was known as the Most Holy Place. This was the place where God dwelled amongst the people. God even had Moses build him a throne known as the Ark of the Covenant.

When people went to worship, they went to the Tabernacle or the Temple. They went to the place where God dwelt amongst his people. Worship was an act of gratitude and meditation in which they went to the very place that God lived.

When Jesus was crucified, Matthew 27 describes how the veil of the temple was torn from top to bottom. Hebrews 9.11-14 and 10.19-25 tell us that Christ has completed a new covenant, allowing us through his sacrifice to enter the presence of God on a spiritual realm. Any time we worship, our hearts and our spirits are taken into the very presence of God. As we enter his house, we consider his faithfulness and his goodness to us.

Worship is an experience of individuals in a community. I remember sitting in a worship service when I was in high school. It was a well-put together service. The band was on; the atmosphere was prime. As we moved into the more intimate tunes, I closed my eyes and began to focus on what God wanted me to hear. I pushed away all of the distractions of the people around me, what I was going to do later, what happened at school. I did everything I could to find out what it was that God wanted to say to me. I was in a world all of my own. And then God spoke. He told me to look around. I protested. I said, “God, this is our time. You and me. I don’t want to look around. I just spent a lot of energy forgetting that those people were there so I could focus on you.” But God insisted that I look around the room. So, I slowly peeked my eyes open and looked around. I saw the most beautiful thing in the world. It was an entire room of people engaging the same God that I was seeking to engage. We were one. We stood not as a bunch of islands, but as a body. When we worship, it is our common celebration of what God has done for us as his people. His promises, his blessings, his goodness falls on us as a group. And because of the unity we have as God’s church, each one of us is equal. We all came to the point we are at because of what HE did, not what we have done. We stand as a body of equals. None greater. None lesser. And we celebrate the faithfulness of God that gives us grace and life abundant.

Worship is war. The book of Revelation is typically characterized by its incredible amounts of violence. Whether it is the four horsemen killing one third of the human population or giant locusts torturing men without ending for months at a time. Famine, war, disease and death seem to strike without mercy over and over again. But somewhere in each series of injustice and violence, there is a pause. While these horrible things continue to happen on earth, we get small glimpses of heaven. Even though it seems to be hell on earth, in each of the heavenly scenes, God is glorified (i.e. Rev. 7).

I think what the book is trying to teach us is that worship is an act of war. We see the horrible disasters of the world around us, and we mourn. We draw near to God, knowing that through Christ’s sacrifice we can enter God’s very presence. By doing so, we say to God, “I know that life sucks on earth, but wherever you are, God, it is good. You are faithful. You are true to your word.” It is through worship that we ask God to make our realm and his realm one place. We ask God to make our world the same as his place in order to redeem the world. “God come and bring salvation to the whole world! We want the end of death, the end of disease, of pain, of injustice! God come and be in this place!”

Worship is not about what we can receive, but it’s all about what God has given us. It’s not about whom we are with specifically, but it’s about our community. It’s not about a place or a time, but it’s all about being in the very presence of God. Worship is a way of life that lives in the midst of God’s kingdom here on earth.

Broken Records

It's always the same.

Every single day, I have this one little boy who will not participate. It doesn't matter what I do. He really seems to believe that he is a victim to the rest of the world. He does not cooperate. He intentionally breaks all the rules. He has even been known to throw a few punches. When I ask him why he did whatever it is he has done, he makes sure I know that someone else did something completely unrelated that forced his hand. So and so said this, called me this, wouldn't do this.

In his mind, his acts of civil unrest, if you will, are his last ditch efforts to protect his right to live. His "wars" are all entirely justified. I wonder where he got such an idea? Did his society instill in him such a pride in his own rights? Is it the American understanding of selfish materialism? Does this child really believe that the wrongdoings of any other party give him the right to accomplish his own ends by whatever means he deems necessary? ...Isn't that the American way?

Just war theories rule our playgrounds. Children are notorious for deciding that the world isn't fair. We are raised to believe that we have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of some abstract known as happiness that every man decides for himself.

We began introspectively. At first, it was our own rights that we had to protect at all costs. The citizens of this great nation deserved their freedom because they had earned it. They deserve this land because they took it. Those rights must now be maintained, lest someone else steal freedom and land from under our noses.

And so just war pervades our thinking from the get-go. When a cruel tyrant oppresses those we sympathize with, it is our right and our duty to end injustice. We were so impressed by our own abilities to institute democracy, that we feel we must protect the rights we believe in all over the world. Throughout the course of history, we have developed what we believe is true justice. And now, where we once simply took freedom and land from those who disagreed, now we force freedom and democracy on anybody weaker than ourselves. Where was our just war policy for those we robbed and murdered to gain our land?

When did we develop our concept of justice? Is war really an effective policy when all other options are exhausted? Or did the fat kid who pushed off the slide teach us to ignore peaceful resolutions?

This punk kid who always ends up in my office seems to always have a smirk for every act of discipline. Our faith in the democratic system has led our children to be martyrs. They aren't bombing buses or firing guns. They're growing up with the belief that their way is worth dying for. Then they stop playing with toys and start playing with war.

The Grown Up Life

I have finally come fully into adulthood. That's what they tell me anyway. And they have told me quite a bit unto this point. They taught me to always brush my teeth, always pay my taxes, always work hard and follow your dreams. Through the years that once seemed endless, the infamous They has been consistently pouring its experience out onto my life. They told me to learn from their mistakes, and avoid my own. They told me to study hard, to get a good job. They supposedly told me everything I need to know.

And now, I'm sitting in an office doing a job with relatively little to do with my "formal training," making it up as I go. Luckily, They told me it would be like this. They told me so much that I didn't believe. I think the biggest fact I avoided was the hardest lesson They have tried to teach. They told me I would fail. They warned me that I would come flying out of college, fling my whole heart into an endeavor and fall flat on my face. They told me that it would take time to not only find, but to carve my way into the professional world. They told me it would be the farthest thing from easy. And They were right.

And now I am learning the one thing They can't teach: perseverance. I feel so much like giving up. I didn't think it would be this hard. I didn't think it would hurt this much. But it does. And the only way to learn perseverance is to endure. The only way to become strong and accomplished is to stand underneath the weight of the world.

And have faith.

Coffee Shops and Hippies.

One day, Bolivar will thrive.

For now, it stands stereotypically a small town in southwest Missouri. It has an old courthouse sitting as the center of an old square. Across the street is an antique shop with a used bookstore downstairs. It's run by a seamstress who fixes the holes, rips and tears while you wait. She's a quiet woman. She wears glasses, but only when she has to. The rest of the time, they dangle around her neck on a string of beads. Around the corner is everyone's favorite Mexican restaurant. The walls are painted to look like foam, bubbling out and lying about how soft they are.

The town is populated by fast food and a Wal-Mart. There is virtually nothing else. And though, the people walk the sidewalks and students crowd the streets, the people submit to the heavy silence. Every passing by wave is mundane, to say the least. Every smile is empty. "Bolivar is a ghost town," they say. I tend to believe that ghosts are more alive than these people.

There is no room for the poetic. The world of deep meaning and human relation strives to break through the deep, dark veils of superficial feelings and callous greetings. Metaphors are wasted, similes misunderstood.

And tonight, back on one corner of the old square, a small coffee shop hides an eclectic group of individuals from the engulfing vanity of this damned town. A girl with a face far too friendly for her environment sings happy songs about childhood and the simplicity of life's "Once upon a time"s.

I sit. And I listen. And I wonder. This town will soon be a memory. It will be the skyline in my rear-view mirror. The future will stand before me. Opportunity and uncertainty loom before me, both inviting and threatening. I realize now that I will miss this place. Though it is so fake and nearly dead, it is has made me. Who would I be without my time here? Without the dorms? Without the awkward encounters with townies? Who would I be without Bolivar?

And the Sovereignty of God is incredibly obvious. He is inescapable. He shines through even in the darkest places. Even if it is a small beam piercing the greatest darkness, God will be known. Tonight, he sings to me through a strange hippy girl who has nothing left but her songs.

How to Survive in a World of Ad Hom

The world in which we live is full of issues that can be debated. This is the beauty of a democracy. Every person is given "certain inalienable rights;" one of which is the right to speak freely concerning whatever issue may weigh heavily on the conscience. And therefore, dear friends, I have decided that it is my responsibility as a scholar, as a Christian and as a concerned brother to train you in the right ways. So, without any further ado, I present to you the most effective forms of communication as revealed by the habits of my generation through its favored voice: Facebook.

The first rule of effective communication is to keep free from the pollution of your opponents' arguments. Those with whom you disagree will use any means necessary to convince you of untruth. You must, therefore, be sure to steer clear of their perverse speech. When they present their case, do not listen. Twiddle your thumbs. Evaluate their fashion sense. Determine their socio-economic class. Do whatever is necessary to keep yourself from allowing their lies to penetrate your clear mind and to muddle the truth of your opinion.

Secondly, and in a related category, make sure that, since you have been careful to avoid dignifying the enemy's speech with diligence, you do not agree with those vile ones on any point. If, on the rare occasion, your enemy is intellectually capable of producing a multi-faceted argument, you must necessarily present an antithetical point-by-point response. However, make sure that your response never even nears correcting the errors of her logic, but merely comment on the odor of her body or on the weakness of her logical faculties based solely on a grammatical analysis. An argument cannot be effective if one does not thoroughly discredit the opponent. Therefore, you must not waste words defeating an argument; it is your task to beat the individual.

Finally, and of the utmost importance, is to be confident in one's position. When one enters an argument, she must be entirely convinced of her viewpoint, so that no one will be capable of deterring her. The method for actually presenting the argument is as follows: 1) Calmly enter the arena, and state your case. 2) Sit quietly, making sure to employ the techniques described in the first rule, while your opponent speaks. 3) Stand up, and repeat your argument. Make sure to express yourself with more vigor and volume than your primary address. If your opponent's initial rebuttal seemed passionate (remember, you shouldn't have actually listened), be sure to include several curse words. After having repeated yourself with the necessary profanities added, turn your passionate vengeance towards the character of your opponent, never evaluating and addressing her claims. 4) Repeat steps 2 through 4 with increasing passion until you have won the day.

These three steps, dear friends, will save you much of the unnecessary inconvenience involved in critical thinking and logical discussion. Hold by my teachings, children, and you will become effective communicators. And so, I commission you. Go. Speak. Be heard. And change the world.

The Logos Receptus

What great risk do we run with our "love and acceptance"? I don't mean to sound like a "fundamentalist." But just the same, I am not a "liberal," so to speak. To be honest, these titles scare me. It seems like a label really only serves two purposes: to make it easier to judge another while hiding oneself. The problems seen in our culture can be seen and outlined by my personal new favorite field of study: textual criticism.

You see, when multiple manuscripts with variant readings were first discovered, many immediately lost their faith. It didn't appeal to many Christians to believe that what they understood as the Word of God might have problems. This caused some to cling more tightly to what they had been handed without considering the possibilities of the truth. They wrapped their pudgy fingers around the King James Version and condemned text critics as heretics. This was the system of faith they had received, and, of course, this was enough. It was true enough for them, anyway. The system has worked, so why change it? Even until today, there are those who cannot fathom the possibility of variation.

By now, there has become an adequate response to that view that simply tosses Scripture into the wind for failing to maintain its own integrity. These, led by Ehrman, have studied textual criticism in detail and have deemed the Bible as unknowable in truth, and therefore all copies now extant are unreliable. Ehrman and those in his camp have decided that the system which was handed down is flawed. It is full of errors. Therefore, the book and the religion are unreliable.

In my life, I see a great battle raging between the "conservative traditionalists" and the "liberal relativists." There are those who cling to the way things have always been, and they are opposed who feel lied to by such traditions. One loves to condemn the outsiders, while the other continually justifies the actions of the "sinful" (and therefore their own habits).

It only makes sense to me that both models fail to evaluate each situation as an individual phenomenon. My life lacks rational eclecticism. I have doctrines and policies that I force upon myself. Whether they are conservative tendencies of so-called "orthodoxy," or my liberal acceptance of all people. Instead, I should avoid what can only be called legalism, and evaluate every spiritual experience through the "supply of Jesus Christ's Spirit."

I do believe that the Bible is the perfect word of God. I also believe that the Logos of God speaks to us today through it. We should never lack in diligence to critically evaluate the "variants" in our lives based on the Truth of God, revealed by his Spirit through his Book.

Vanity of Vanities.

Today, I was informed that presenting a dissertation is like visiting the proctologist. They put you in all sorts of uncomfortable positions. They probe all the places you don't want them to. And in the end, you just feel cheap and used.

All in all, it was an inspiring conversation. Right after this lovely analogy, the same man asked me which Ninja Turtle was my favorite. In the tone of the conversation, I said, "I used to have a favorite, but now I'm thankful for them all. They're my relief from the real world."

Some days, I just want curl up with a gallon of ice cream and Ecclesiastes. The world is full of continual competition and an instilled sense of ambition. I feel as if I cannot be a better Christian without continuing my education. I can't serve God effectively if I do not continually learn more. Beyond that, I feel as if all of my wisdom and knowledge must be mind-boggling and contrary to what I know. Sometimes, I'm so unsure of what I actually think. College wasn't supposed to teach me information. It was supposed to teach me to think. Am I really going to be capable of that when I leave? Will I be able to read and evaluate? I sat in a smoky bar and listened to a friend's passionate opinions of politics and realized how little I know about so many things. Am I adequately equipped to recognize and deal with my own ignorance?

With these thoughts invading my mind, and second-hand smoke invading my lungs (which is my LEAST favorite thing in the whole world, by the way), I realized the utter vanity of my worldview of academia. And this is precisely why my coming time off is becoming so precious to me. I value my education because it is what I excel at. I am considering a master's and even a doctorate because I don't know what else to do with my life. I have such an incredibly skewed understanding of true wisdom and the capability of God's Spirit in my own life. I truly believe that I am worthless without more schooling.

This is truly vanity. And in the words of my favorite uneducated man, "This too shall be made right."

The Summing Up of All Things

But I say to you truthfully, there are some of those standing here who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God.
Luke 9.27

Jesus had just fed at least five thousand people. In typical Jewish-messianic fashion (as John describes it), He had provided the people with "bread for life." In the Synoptics, Jesus chose this point to quiz His disciples. They have been with Him. They have heard Him teach, and they have seen what He can do. After reciting the rumors, Jesus pointed the question. "Who do you say I am?" It seems to me that Jesus was asking His disciples if they understood who He was and what He was up to. Every theory the disciples had heard mar4 great claims about this Jesus. "He is John the Baptist reincarnated. He is Elijah. He is a new prophet (an interesting claim in light of Luke's view of prophets)." Jesus is somebody. He is an important religious figure. Everyone knew that, but Jesus wants to know if those closest to Him have really been listening. Have they seen the truth in the midst of all the travel, the teaching, the miracles? Jesus wanted to know, "Do they really know who I am? Why I'm here?"

And then, Peter blurted it out: "The Christ of God." The Messiah. The long-awaited One. The single man who would free the Jews from the yoke of their oppressors and usher in the Kingdom of God. The King like David and the Prophet like Moses, as Matthew describes Him. The anointed One of God. That's who Jesus was... who He is.

Yet, this man who stood before the disciples didn't even really know who His father was. He was born alone and dejected in a stable. He grew up in Galilee. What could He know about God's Kingdom? And to make matters worse, He claimed that this Messiah of God was required to suffer. God's anointed that the Jews had awaited since man fell had come to die?

And Jesus asked the same of His disciples. "Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it." What about breaking free from oppression? What about freedom from Rome? What about liberty and justice for all? How will dying bring God's kingdom? Isn't God's reign supposed to make the world right? Shouldn't it fix things? What good will dying do? How can sacrifice bring about the kingdom.

What puzzles me most about this story is Jesus' next statement. He demanded complete self-sacrifice, and then encouraged them that some would see the Kingdom before they died. Was Jesus saying that the Kingdom would come before some of them were driven to the point of laying down their lives?

About a week after these statements, Peter, John and James witness the Transfiguration. The next day, Jesus healed a boy "seized" by a demon. Jesus released this boy from his oppressor, and immediately reminded His disciples that He would suffer and die. Heaven came down, and people were set free. They were made well.

For Luke, Jesus is the coming of the Kingdom. His presence represented the restoration of God's rule. He brought with Him grace and mercy that accepted the poor and unacceptable. The coming of the Kingdom is future event, but it is also a present reality revealed in Jesus and in the Spirit. The coming of the Kingdom can't be predicted in history, but the truth of the Kingdom can be experienced in who Jesus is. In Him, we see the essence of the place where God lives. And in His sacrifice, it is slowly working itself into our world now. In our participation in that sacrifice, we are "conformed to the image of His Son" (Romans 8.29). The life of the One who lived the Kingdom in a world not entirely merged with the Kingdom becomes our life. We are capable of living His life and worshiping in His realm (Hebrews 9 and 10). We can live in the Kingdom in the midst of a broken and suffering world.

As the day approaches that I will walk across that stage, shake the hands of people who don't even know my name and smile at the tall man with the glasses to whom I owe most of my education, I wonder. When I walk off that stage, I will be "independent." That very day, I'll move to a new town. Hopefully, I'll find a new job. The summer may seem summer-like, but in August, I won't return to the classroom. I won't come back to Bolivar. I won't see the same people and complain about the same nasty food. I'll be immersed in a world almost entirely separate from this one. I wonder what I will do without wise men holding my hand. Will I learn anything? Will my education mean anything? Will I be able to use the skills I've spent four years developing? Or will I just flip burgers? Fear floods my mind. Doubts creep in like monsters from under the bed, and I truly do feel childish.

Then I remember the One who will always hold my hand. And He isn't just a wise man, He is the presence of God. Then I know it will all be ok. He is Immanuel, and He always will be.

A man who I hope to soon call a friend once said, "As you get older, the more you study eschatology the more you realize it is just as much about the summing up of your own life as it is about the end of all things." In the face of a thousand unanswerable questions, it's good to have that hope. If the end of my life is years away, or great sacrifice is required in the coming days, I pray that I would see the Kingdom of God before I go.

Beauty in Community

Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all.
But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ's gift... for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ.
Ephesians 4.1-7, 12.

The single most exciting part of following Christ in my own life is the freedom from isolation. Before Christ, I was essentially steeped in Pharisaic pride. I spent every minute of my life analyzing the moral codes of everyone around me. Christian faith was the deepest endeavor into the "ethical sphere." The truest Christian was the one who was not only most righteous, but known as most righteous by all those he encountered. In truth, my judgments stemmed from a) pride and continual comparison to those around me and b) a complete insecurity in my own weaknesses.

When Christ interfered, I was forced to re-evaluate my radical individualism. I could no longer spend my days and nights determining the worth of others. I was too humiliated to judge. I couldn't isolate myself inside myself. I was too weak to stand alone.

As Paul wrote to the Ephesians, he encourage pagan Gentiles to participate in a "Jewish" religion. He sought to free them from the oppression of the powers of darkness, as they were "seated with Christ in the heavenly places." They were no longer subject to the magical powers that tormented the Phrygian valley. In their new freedom from pagan powers, they were now members of a new body. They had formally been "excluded from the commonwealth of Israel," but now they were full-fledged members in a community that is "blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ."

Within this community, they have the "hope of His calling, the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints and the surpassing greatness of His power toward [those] who believe." In light of these things, Paul encourages them to "walk in a manner worthy of the calling." For Paul, this looks like unity in the community. It means people from different backgrounds can relate and live in love because of what Christ has done.

In my own life, I see myself determining my own brand of Christianity as the epitome of true faith. I sit through worship services and judge everyone's level of "maturity." Those who don't raise their hands don't care, those who do are faking it. I'm the only one in the room who really gets God. In reality, community is a blessing. It means I don't need all the answers. It means we can discuss, we can disagree and we can live through it. Love makes all of this possible. All that is required is that we are diligent to preserve that unity.

Resistance is Futile. Assistance is Required.

I am growing weary of formal education. It seems the more time I spend in school, the more I simply realize how incredibly ignorant I am. I am Alice, perpetually falling into a never-ending pit of scholarship. And like Alice, I have given up on screaming and become entranced by the ceaselessness of the fall. I find myself hearing James admonish his hearers to "be not many teachers," and adding, "Or students!" with an exhausted agreement.

But let me clarify. It is not knowledge that exhausts me. Nor is it learning, in the strictest sense. It is the rigorous cycle of a revelation; it is the incessant revelation of my ignorance. And my ignorance haunts me like the ghost of a heinous crime. It creeps through the dark places in my mind, begging to be solved and unable to be understood. So, who do I call? Those Ghost Busters with suficient credentials to answer the questions that torment me: the learned men. It is precisely when they fire their proverbial photon rifle thingys that I realize my struggle is not intellectual.

It is a crisis of faith.

I have forgotten Jesus in my so-called "scholarly" and "religious" pursuits. In my heart, I have built a temple. It is my metaphysical place of religion. And in it, there are ways to make my faith "easy." There are tables where the answers are sold, even and especially the tricky ones. This is the table where cold analysis and strict syntax are on display. The man behind the table screaming, "OBJECTIVE or SUBJECTIVE GENITIVE? THE FAITHFULNESS OF CHRIST! FIVE DOLLARS!" And I run to him, throwing my money at him for the new answers, the exegetical shockers to pull from my hermeneutical bag of tricks. Another table is covered in devotional materials and prayer journals. The man here claims to be able to market and manage personal piety. Another booth is devoted to reconciling Christian faith and financial prosperity. My favorite table is the table where otherwise trivial good works are exchanged for potential suffering and self-sacrifice.

I need a wisdom from above, pure and liberating. Because I am afraid I have put too much faith in the tree of my Christian heritage and the mountain on which the temple of my heart rests.

Jesus, come and cleanse it.

The Necessary Relativism of Being Well

This semester, I'm taking a class on Soren Kierkegaard. One of the most notable aspects of his later writings is his emphasis on the necessity of suffering (a less than popular claim in American Christianity). His ideas have been bouncing around in my head, working their way into my life. I guess they have found their root in what I might call my "sufferings" as of late. Not to say that what I experience actually deserves such a title. It is trivial. It is pathetic.

And yet, as I walk away from my meaningless tribulations, I somehow find myself smiling. A man walks by, asking how I am, and I respond with a resounding "GREAT!" The odd thing is, I somehow believe it. Maybe its because my suffering is meaningless to what it could be. I am well-fed, well-off and unscathed.

I have recently realized that I may be as much of a cynic as one who believes in Christ can be. How can I be so negative when I am well?

At least I don't have any Peter Pan peanut butter.

Oh, how the years go by...

I stand on the verge of a great precipice. New calendars have been purchased and are today being marked with birthdays and appointment reminders. There is a feeling of a clean slate, as if by the falling of a single new number, the whole world up until now has been forgotten. Finally, the anticipated date on my transcript meets reality. Within a few months, I will graduate from college and go on to supposedly "bigger and better" things, though I have yet to discover their identities. I wonder what I will do for money, who my friends will be, where I will live... if, where and when I'll go to grad school.

But the words of Jesus echo in my ears: "Do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself."

Each day is a gift. It is the effect of an actively, creative God, granting life and causing the world to spin and the sun to rise. As a Christian, it is only this day that I can truly live. It is demanded in the model of Christ and His gracious attention to individuals. He didn't waste His days stuck in the clouds, so consumed by His destiny that He ignored or neglected any soul He met. Each encounter in my life is an opportunity given by the gift of today to truly love another person.

Not only by His example, but His immanent coming also demands my complete attention to today. Hope is knowing that in an instant, the injustice and corruption of this world could be eternally cured. Our King could return before I finish the next sentence or take the next breath. All the more reason to pay complete attention to today; there may not even be a tomorrow as I expect it.

Christian living is a combination of relentless hope and unconditional love. The Kingdom of God may fully break through into our present timeline any minute. And as we, His disciples, wait for Him, we have the gift to continue this convergence and preview the Justice of the future by our unashamed and unending love for each person we encounter. Why not worry about tomorrow? Because we can bring the true Tomorrow in these present moments.