Notes in the carpet.

The Lamb Was Slain; Must We Cook Him Also?

2008-09-26T00:18:00.006-03:00

So I just suffered through one of the latest tools of the Christian propaganda machine, H2O. (And I say this as a firm believer in the revelation of Jesus Christ!) I hope this doesn't sound over-righteous--though I have no reason to doubt my faith and the moving of the Spirit within me--but it was utter crap.

First of all, I would like someone to explain to me the logic of hosting an evangelical event attended by people who attend our church every week. I wouldn't be surprised if over half the mob were card-carrying members. "Hey, you serve Jesus! Let me introduce you to Him."

Ah, but what of Jesus? I'm starting to appreciate the virtue of Frank Viola's firm, anti-institutionalist stance. In his book, he emphasizes the Pauline and apostolic methods of preaching the gospel. Unlike H2O, they don't rely on sophist garbage like analogs comprising of infomercial stories and Rob Bellian cornball images; they actually shared the joy of Christ's renewing power. (Let me grant, however, that Rob Bell seems to love the Lord, even though he's got one heck of an ecclectic style of sharing it.)

My frustration boiled over when, after watching a horrendous video that dilutes the gospel message, we convened in a private room with a group of 8-10 people. (Again, I must interject and say that I am being very gracious in suggesting the video diluted the gospel, seeing as it didn't mention it. But hosting this event in a church inherently simulated a suggestive gospel message, not that one needs to present the gospel to existing believers.) Once in that room, the leader highest in the hierarchy had us close our eyes and, in a hypnotic monotone, told us to imagine a puddle, gradually extended this figurative illustration into an ocean, and remarked how we all were thirsty in light of this gimmick. "Ooh! Water! That symbolizes baptism, huh? I guess we all thirst for baptism. Well don't that butter my toast!"

Wow! I'm stupefied. Truly baffled. I mean, do I honestly want to account for this? Do I want to stand before the Lord's judgment seat and have to explain why in the Hades I wasted my time silently endorsing this foolishness? The only thing that kept me in there for the whole session was the fact that, in spite of the ludicrous pragmatism that is the curriculum, there were souls loved by God in my midst. But seriously, do observations like the following truly pass as service to Christ nowadays:

"Let us enlighten you to the spiritual hole that is your life. You may think you're satisfied, but you are wrong. Of course, those of you who are honest would confess a deep longing within yourselves. Come back next week to see what other great revelation we have in store! You might even get to meet Jesus. He's more alive than Elvis. Trust us."

And how would I respond to this hole analogy? The same way one Bart Simpson once did, after a sympathetic date with his teacher: "Did you know that the hole's natural enemy is the pile?" (Which, by the way, struck me as more Christian than how the institutional church tries to pander to people.)

If it weren't for the Holy Spirit, the world would have no reason to believe. None. We are not doing our jobs!!!

The Last I Should Need to Say About Pagan Christianity

2008-09-17T17:50:00.005-03:00

Page 129: "Luther held to the [unbiblical] idea that those who preach needed to be specially trained."

Oh Viola, don't you need to read your own book? Not only is Luther's belief correct; it extends beyond his personal understanding of the statement he himself expressed. You see, there is a great irony in the way Viola asserts Luther's error: a restoration of organic, first-century church is impossible without the spread of awareness, i.e. training. If institutional church promotes and maintains passivity among the Body of Christ, the people need to be educated on the subject. Viola gets a little closer to the truth when he tackles the fact that, unfortunately, the "pastorate" is the portion of believers entrusted with imparting this revelation, and that the revelation itself is in stark contradiction with their "callings." Hence, there is a profound need for education among God's people, starting on the administrative level.

While I agree with 1 John, in which John says we shouldn't need teachers, that God pours wisdom into us, that the entire breadth of this training is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit--while I agree with all those points, we face an obstacle that Paul et al. didn't have to deal with in the first century, and one which necessitates "special training": we have hundreds of years of dumbing down of the Christian message to correct. Pagan Christianity, though it illuminates the need for this mandatory correction, is only the beginning. It only expounds on selective verses of the Bible, using a form that is ironically similar to the proof-texting method widely condemned by modern biblical scholars. Therefore, simply making the reader aware of these gross bastardizations of the gospel message does far too little to equip the average Christian to properly interpret the Bible or to function as a member of Paul's church plants would have. We need to be made intimately aware of just how deep-rooted our pagan thinking is, and we must make a deliberate effort to filter out inherited beliefs, holding them in direct opposition to centuries of false teaching--which I don't deny has transpired. The ultimate goal, of course, is to extract the original Christian lifestyle from the muddied doctrines and rites we collectively dub "Christianity." Hence, more training than ever is needed--not in homiletics, but in linguistics and historicity, thus yielding a proper exegesis of the Bible.

Sadly, Viola is so opposed to the false rite of ordination that he gravitates too far to one extreme, criticizing Luther's statement too much. I would agree with Viola that Luther probably didn't understand the real truth of his statement, but this does not mean that the truth buried therein should be condemned along Luther's failure to abolish to the clergy-laity divide. This extremist, reactionary scholarship is epidemic throughout Pagan Christianity and is my greatest criticism of the book. Yes, I will soon read Reimagining Church, but Viola does great harm by saving all his "alleged" solutions for another book, leaving the reader of this one with a sense of futility. If the necessary remedies are "beyond the scope" of Pagan Christianity, then it should never have been released as a single volume. This reeks of commercialism, with all due respect to the authors.

Now then, although I haven't finished it, I feel absolutely no inclination to offer any further critical analyses of Pagan Christianity. All I have been doing is restating the same observations. I hope that, if I have encouraged anyone to read it, they will do so with the cautionary message of this post. It is neither the pastors' nor the spectators' fault that so few of us take up our crosses daily and follow the Lord. It is the fault of tradition and the influence of Satan that has resulted in so much doctrine and so little action in the church. Once again, I commend Viola for bringing this to light. But let's all examine ourselves before we hurl lightning bolts at the institution, because the entire thrust of the book condemns a few hours a week. Regardless of how church is done, there is an entire way of life that is far more important. I would argue that, in spite of the entertainment nature of church, those who follow Christ's example seven days a week ought not be condemned for warming a pew and worshipping God in a way that surpasses other forms of entertainment. This might not be sufficient in God's eyes, but I can't help but notice that Viola writes so proudly of his recent participation in organic church, then refers the reader to verses in acts that clearly indicate it should be practiced daily (Acts 2:46). So, Viola, if you want to lead a revolution, maybe your habits should reflect your extreme conservative interpretation of the Bible.

Do institutional churches function as Paul's did? No. Do we approach the idea of organic church with apprehension? Sadly, yes. In conversation with a few people, it was asserted that if I were to start my own church plant, that it would eventually result in dominant personalities with stronger giftings taking on leadership roles. This appeased my unrest on those moments. I've since returned to church. But if I could go back in time, I might have answered that charge a little differently. I would argue that a dominant Person is indeed supposed to begin directing traffic: Jesus Christ. On this point, Luther condemnation of the Anabaptists exhibitis the full measure of his faith: where is it? While I grant that every-member functioning churches are populated with faulty, broken humans, it doesn't necessarily mean that a non-liturgical setting would lend itself to chaos. Anarchy certainly seems like the only fruit human nature could bear, and one would have to live in utter denial to suggest otherwise. But where is the faith? Where is the implicit trust that every word and gesture would be under the direction of the Holy Spirit? "It couldn't happen." Statements such as that are the war cry of the clergy. Paul would disagree. So would Christ.

In truth, I don't think that I have personally reached a strong enough faith that would enable God to honour any attempt at organic church on my part. I pray every day for God to purge me of unbelief and to conquer the sins that still rule my flesh. But I am realistic in acknowledging that it hasn't happened yet. If I branched away from mainline Christianity, it seems unlikely that I would surrender enough to Christ such that He could filter out the personal motivations from the Spirit-led ones. Yet. But I am forced also to conclude that my own limitations and unbelief don't disprove Viola's interpretation of the New Testament. Much as it pains me, and much as it forces me to examine myself, our fear of Pauline Christianity hinges entirely on the fact that so many of us lock our faith in the cerebellum, not the heart.

Do I even need to read Frank Viola's new book? Doesn't the solution to our ineffectiveness begin and end with throwing ourselves at the feet of Christ and praying for Him to work on us? Paul didn't have a New Testament to hand out to new believers. I'm starting to regret that we do. If he had known that his letters would produce more divisive arguments than thankful hearts, I have to believe he would have done a lot more walking and a lot less writing. But then, how else would we know just how damning the centuries have been to the story of Jesus? On page 99, Viola notes that the apostolic fathers didn't have any need for moral or ethical messages, that everything they presented to nonbelievers centred on the person of Jesus. I've heard some wonderful sermons in my short walk with God, but some of them kind of focussed on the "supplementary" info in the Bible. So, on the one hand, we need tonnes of training; on the other, we just need to drown out the preachers and listen to the Teacher.

Anyway. May God bless you all.

Three Things To Do Before I Die

2008-09-17T15:59:00.005-03:00

1. Spread the awareness that has been precipitating through my own mind, enlightening me to the fact that none of us is ever going to understand the Bible if we limit ourselves to modern translations and diction. For one thing, language is fluid, and thus a translation is dated by the time of its completion. I read book after book that critiques liturgical and ritual practice that we've inherited, and the thrust of all these arguments, even though no one author has dared to sum it up in such brass tacks, is quite simply that all our unbiblical practices stem from a distortion of the biblical text. In other words, if we approach the Bible without a proper understanding of the context and culture to which its books were directed, we lack the foundational principles to properly interpret it--even when we do so with good intentions or unbiased, open hearts. Is this a flaw with the Bible? No. A flaw with us? You betcha! I don't here mean to suggest that it isn't God-breathed or that God wrote an incomplete book, but I am convinced that every ounce of apostasy hinges on poor hermeneutical principles, i.e. a misreading of the Biblical text, which often results from reading our present understanding into the past, instead of employing a proper chronology. (The catch, of course, is that we impose upon ourselves the study of history, the evolution of theology and ritual, and so on. How many of us are willing to do that?) It seems painfully clear to me that, if properly understood, a critical reading of the Bible would necessarily shatter the way we conform our Christian lives to our culture and convict us toward a Christ-centric lifestyle. In this realization, Pagan Christianity is only one of several books that lends itself to my assessment.

2. Study the supplementary info that would shed proper light on every verse of the Bible. All I have discovered is my own ignorance. I read entire books that only illuminate small excerpts of the biblical text, but in so doing I force myself into a rude awakening about how impossible it would have been for me to discern these things without getting my grubby hands onto copies of the original documents (Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, and so on) as well as the archaelogical and historical evidence that enlightens me about the distortions that I see every day. I could here breathe an intense sigh and give up, or pick up my cross and keep walking after the Shepherd's voice. Gonna do the latter, and not just because I'm a sap for punishment.

3. Teach people how to do the same. I used to think that alternative/pagan religions were the church's greatest enemy. I am presently learning to accept the fact that a distortion of the true message of the Bible and example of Christ is a far more effective tool in Satan's workbox.

In summary: A Bible is dangerous in the hands of people who don't equip themselves with the proper methods of interpretation that allow them to understand it. If by dangerous I mean lethal. The Word of God is a sword. Many a soldier has died from falling on his weapon. The bigger the weapon, the bigger the potential injury.

Anyway, we forge on.

Further Discussion on Organic vs. Institutional Church

2008-09-16T20:38:00.003-03:00

It seems I've gotten wise to my own limitations and have started noting thoughts that cross my mind as I trudge through the rest of Pagan Christianity. I don't recall if I explained how it came into my possession, so I will briefly elaborate on that. My first exposure to the book was via and Amazon recommendation in late spring. I opted not to buy it by virtue of the fact that I was unfamiliar with both authors. I guess I have a general skepticism concerning who I can or can't trust out there, and seeing as I haven't even reached a year anniversary in my walk with Christ, I'm trying to avoid the abundance of terrible scholarship out there. I've already been duped by my own curiosity, having purchased a book about the Gnostic gospel of Judas by Bart D. Ehrman. I thought it no coincidence, either, when I found myself meeting with a few members of church who told me that an elder had once mentioned how his only regret about his studies involved how much time he invested in reading the unhealthy things. I've softened my position on this stuff for two reasons: 1) we are presently in the age of apostasy; 2) my belief that the only effective way to keep false teaching out of the church, and to prevent it from uprising within the church, is to have an intimate understanding of these alternative belief systems. Back on track: Around June, when our local church was about to break its ministries for the summer, things got really stale for me. I started to backslide a lot, and it was within this context that a close friend and pastor handed me a copy of Pagan Christianity with the intent of having a men's book club over the summer. And thus began the internal conflict re: everything we've come to refer to as "church."

Of course, one needn't read very far into the book to grasp its thesis, which reccurs throughout: the way we do things inhibits the manifestation of the Spirit, the giftings it bestows upon us, and the [real-time] headship of Christ. No one in any denomination that makes the slightest effort to honour the Bible would deny that Christ is the head of the church. This is not the premise that Viola and Barna are trying to address. It's much subtler than that. Their motivation is to restore our worship style to that expressed by Christ and the apostles in the New Testament. Aside from Pagan Christianity, most books I read that try to correct false teaching (in any context) involve a critical reading of the original Greek and Hebrew texts. This is a lost art, especially in the present age. Scholars who write about Biblical Hermeneutics stress the inadequacy of one's understanding of any biblical text when one's methodology is to read our modern definitions into the diction of the Bible. Hence, as linguistic changes seep into our consciousness, our implicit ability to consider the original context of Scripture is diminished, if not depleted. This is the root cause of most deviations from proper doctrine or an understanding of it. And so, words like "elder" or "pastor" lose their original definitions, which essentially referred to how closely one's example mimicked that of Christ. Nowadays, we regard these as clerical terms relating to offices within the church; history records their origin as a synthesis of pagan rituals and Roman law. That's a sweeping summary of what Viola and Barna hope to impart, as well as their exhortation that we must return to the kind of worship described in Romans: give your entire being to Christ and let the Spirit guide you. Even if it defers from the institutional guidelines or precepts enforced by hierarchical members of the "Christian" institution.

Now then, this is the last time I will offer such a synopsis. From here on, I will merely note the pros and cons, as I see them, in Pagan Christianity. My citations all refer to this year's printing of the book--its second edition.

Pros:

In general: It sheds light on congregant complacency that is so rampant in modern churches. With all respect to our very talented worship leaders--and we certainly don't lack for gifted staff members at my church--one would have to believe that if the format were truly effective, I wouldn't see so many members of all ages with arms crossed during our time of worship. Unlike the tunnel-visioned opinion held among traditionalist "King Jamesers," this is not because we sing "too many modern songs and not enough hymns." (By the way, my unaffectionate name for them is not strictly in reference to their allegiance to a translation 400 years dead but to their general attitude as concerns the "sacrosanctity" of traditional worship.) Also, our entire district--yes, district--was privy to 600 new commitments to Christ last year, 100 of which have become weekly attenders. This is NOT the extent of God's power. So, goodonyas Viola and Barna for having more faith in God than our results have produced.

page 98: They make reference to the fact that, because we allow "paid professionals" to carry the cross of the entire congregation, we have not only become listless in our faith, but we have become dependent on these leaders for spiritual growth and nourishment. Shame on everyone who does not apply every word of the New Testament to his or her entire life. I pray daily that God convicts me of this sin of neglect, and that He work to transform me into the kind of living member of the universal Body of Christ, which is to be thoroughly a beacon of Christ's love and an every-member function priesthood.

pages 99-100: Viola makes another insightful observation in noting that so many of the sermons we listen to offer little more than moral or ethical advice. Conversely, when the apostles and their peers preached the gospel to nonbelievers, Christ was the centre and focus of the revelation. It was not a school of thought, a body of doctrine, or even the Bible, which didn't yet exist, that they presented; it was Jesus. No more, no less. (How could there be more than Jesus?) In fact, 1 John 2:27 says that we need no teacher other than the Holy Spirit. This is not to suggest that some of us aren't called to expound on the biblical texts to help people in their walk, but that the way of life that we are to live should not require a weekly sermon. I am forced to agree with this.

Why would so many pastors and believers cringe at what I just said? Two reasons: 1) a lack of faith on their own part in God's ability to do this; 2) the fact that they have not experienced it themselves. Everything about our society distracts from Christ. It makes perfect, logical sense that we should feel a dependency toward our spiritual leaders. Unfortunately, God is not concerned with the wisdom of this world; nay, He promises to reduce it to utter foolishness. "Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?" (1 Cor. 1:20) With all respect to some of the senior members of our church who think the world is going to hell at a faster pace because we no longer sing hymns or read the KJV, it is this kind of clinging to the perceived sacredness of these "objects" that is driving a wedge between themselves and God.

Now then, the several cons of the book (and perhaps I lean too heavily in this direction):

page 62: With regards to the opening pastoral prayer in Puritan churches, Viola makes a veiled comment about how they could last more than hour. Now, I want to make a few distinctions here. First, prayer is the ONLY thing I could perceive as transcending our ability to taint it. Although Viola doesn't outright condemn prayer, he owes the reader some better phrasing here. Because of the general tone of the book in its condemnation of institutionalized worship, Viola has set himself up in such a way that places prayer in a predisposed bad light. I doubt this was his intention, but it certainly feels that way when you first read the way he criticizes extended prayer sessions.

page 64: The same applies to the treatment of Sunday evening worship services. They absolutely cannot be, of themselves, inherently bad. Viola even makes mention of the fact they are generally poorly attended. So what? If people want to demonstrate their commitment to God by congregating for a second time within a calendar day, I can't find fault in it. Furthermore, my experience has been that evening service is a lot more meaty than the seeker-friendly tone of morning service.

page 71, note 146: Viola makes an absurd point about how the church isn't called to make disciples of the whole world in one generation. In other words, Christ is okay with letting some people die, as long as we remain focused in our effort to eventually get around to evangelizing the whole world. I don't know where to begin with this one. I have to believe that, if we still did church the way Paul did, that our examplary behaviour would inflect the kind of "good infection" C.S. Lewis describes in Mere Christianity, which, in a nutshell, refers to the peace and love that oozes through our pores because of our relationship with Christ. If this were to spread exponentially, we could certainly bring the whole world to salvation in less than a generation. Also, Paul prayed tearfully for those whom he hadn't met yet, and I have to believe that the closer one becomes to Christ, the more one's heart bleeds for the unsaved. Viola's point here is a stinking pile of cow dung. If I must appeal to Scripture, Matthew 28 seems like a good place to start.

page 91: I'm nitpicking here, but Viola equates the Sophists of 5th Century B.C. Greece with paganism. This is wrong on two levels. First, the sophists were wandering teachers for hire who specialized in the art of rhetoric. They were hired by high society Greeks to train their sons in the art of persuasion, in preparation for success in public life. They were markedly unreligious, as A.H. Armstrong indicates in his book An Introduction to Ancient Philosophy. A few points regarding our semantic use of the word "pagan." In olden times, it referred, simply, to rural life as distinct from urban life. Hence, we find that Olympian worship and philosophical systems (such as Plato and Aristotle's) were practiced in the city-states, whereas mystery cults and heathen practices were prominent in the rural, less populated areas of ancient Greece and her neighbours. We have, over time, changed the definition of pagan and given it a connotation of heathenism. Ironically, the Sophists, who gravitated toward the city-states, were neither pagan in the rural sense, nor in the mystery cult sense.

pages 92-93: Viola asserts that because of the institutionalization of church, non-trained Christians were denied the right to speak to God's people. There is a problem with such a statement. Why does Viola use what he considers a bastardized form of church as the referent? His argument, unlike his thesis, conforms to the congregational worship style, when the fact is that organic Christianity was not limited to the organic church setting, but involved an entire way of life. If Christianity proper existed prior to the contamination described herein, those who preached and lived it purely had only to continue along their then current path. Where is the documentation that describes their persecution? Where and when did they knock heads with the Romanized church of Constantine and the church fathers as described in the patristic writings? This places too much emphasis on evangelism and meeting together and not enough on the entire Christian life.

That's it for now. I will proofread this all later, as my sister is visiting from Toronto and I want to share in her company. Neither did I want to neglect these points for too long. I am about midway through the book, FYI.

A Couple Retractions

2008-09-08T13:20:00.013-03:00

First of all, I'd like to modify my tug-of-war analogy. I formerly suggested that the human soul is subject to a not-so-elastic pulling in two directions, with God and Satan doing the respective tugging. Having searched within myself, it seems that the doctrine of free will has imposed the following change of heart, yielding the following analogue:

God pulls us to the Spirit side, which, when complete, would have us living fully in Christ. Most of us--if not all--have only achieved something akin to standing next to Christ. We are both the rope and the one resisting the change, because of the intimate transformation that God is trying to produce in us, which, among other painfully intrinsic modifications, requires us to surrender what we know as our identities and individualism. Satan, to spite God, wants to burn the rope. (See Zechariah 3 for an illustration of Satan's motives: to lead us into transgression, as if he were recruiting us, and then turn to God to demand God destroy us as a result of the sin into which he led us. This should not be confused with our nature, which is also prone to sinfulness. Hence, it might also be argued that Satan hauls on the figurative rope, but not as a finality.)

Now then, I will paste my latest assessment of this Pagan Christianity business, which I just submitted to Pastor AJ. He has been a great spiritual leader throughout my walk, and I should probably keep it private were it not for the fact that the message doesn't contain any privileged or confidential information as it relates to his end of things. Since I don't, at present, have a great deal of time to spend editing it for transparency, consider all "you" pronouns addressed to him and the advice he's been giving me. I don't mean to take any credit for either his insights or mine, as we should all agree that God is truth and it all comes from Him anyway. The rest of this message is from that email, and you can bet that I will be treating this matter to more concise elaboration in the future. Finally, I have ordered Frank Viola's new book, Reimagining Church, and will give it the careful and sober consideration it deserves. You will note from the contents of my email to Pastor AJ that, while several theological paradoxes result from the extremist point expressed in Pagan Christianity, it is not without its merits. Of course, seeing as I've now entered the dialogue that concerns how church ought to be lived and/or practiced, I am obliged to share any new revelations that result from my walk with God in correlation to these broader issues.

Message title: "A Conclusion of Sorts"

AJ:

First, thanks for being patient and encouraging throughout my, umm, crash course in church and pagan histories. (I guess that's what it might rightly be called...) So anyway, here's where my mind has settled for the time being:

1. Are modern church practices foolish or pagan?

No more foolish or pagan than Mosaic law. Perhaps we're all guilty of doing what Paul describes in Romans 9:30-10:12, both as a corporate Body and individual members of said Body. No doubt, there are seasons when we "go through the motions," but it doesn't mean that the rituals, in and of themselves, possess any sacred or wicked properties to begin with. Of course, I don't mean to suggest that God handed the Israelites an inferior or incomplete law, but it certainly seems that no matter how simple or concise His directives, they were guaranteed to muck it up. Hence, as Paul states, faith in the Christ must be central and focal point of our worship and ministry, not the deeds themselves. History is full of pagan "similarities" to our worship style, and that can be traced all the way back to the Balaams and Asherahs of the Old Testament. In addressing the charge that baptism and the Eucharist were borrowed from mystery religions, Ronald Nash writes the following:

The mere fact that Christianity had a sacred meal and a baptism is supposed to prove that it borrowed these ceremonies from similar meals and washings in the pagan cults. By itself, of course, such outward similarity would really prove nothing. After all, religious rituals can assume only a limited number of forms, and they will naturally relate to important or common aspects of human life. Alleged similarities might reflect only common features of a time or culture, rather than genetic dependence (140). (Nash, The Gospel and the Greeks, 2nd Ed. Phillipsburg: 2002)

This means two things:

a) When Jimmy Swaggart called rock music the "new pornography," he might as well have said that organized church was the new sun worship. All pagan accusations make sense when considered in a vacuum, but once you place our rituals onto the stage of human culture, we are forced to reckon with the fact that humans--gasp!--are subject to humanness.

b) On the subject of the genesis of our rituals, we are also forced to consider the culture that spawned them. As we read in Pagan Christianity, Luther's affinity for music led him to incorporate singing into the liturgy of the church with unprecedented emphasis. I would hesitate to rest on the possibility that he borrowed this practice from the Old Testament (e.g. 2 Samuel 6:5), but I would also guard myself against the notion that such forms of worship are necessarily ungodly. I can't say in good faith that our society has lost its affinity for music, so that discredits the notion that singing for God is unChristian. This, of course, is just one example.

2. If we can't use rituals as a measure of faith or a right relationship with God, how do we reconcile the apparent source of what we do?

The heart.

This one is too simple for deep thinkers like Barna, Viola, et al. to accept. Those who are prone to analytical trappings are handicapped by the simple things. Not to sound conceited or to allege that I am a "great mind," but I am certainly prone to all the mental patterns and symptoms one would expect of such people. Thus, when I can't draw a crystal clear parallel to Scripture, it's not hard for me to read sinister motives into liturgical or ritual practices. But He who said "I desire mercy, not sacrifice" (bringing low the ritual and high the sincere heart that performs it) also promised us a Counsellor to guide us on our walk. I think Barna and Viola are guilty of not considering the following point (or worse, deliberately avoiding it): What are the chances that the Holy Spirit would allow the ENTIRE church to deviate from God's will for more than 1700 years? Where was God in all that? If it were conclusively determined that Pagan Christianity's hypothesis is true, we'd all be forced to bury God in the same grave destined for the liturgy it condemns. Of course, we might find the truth somewhere in the middle, i.e. the reverent devotion of the doer, not what is done, is the spiritual filtration system. Romans 14 is very unambiguous on this point. We are not to cast judgment on what one does for God, but the sincerity and reverence with which said worship is offered. Hence, we also find in Paul's writing the ultimate form of worship, which is in giving ourselves wholly to God. Isaiah was sawed in half for telling his contemporaries that God was displeased with their offerings. How did they react? By defending the laws handed down them. How many times must we repeat the Cain/Abel story? ("Hey, God, here's your stinkin' ram. Done to the letter, as per your instructions.")

I maintain what I said to you the other day, which you astutely rephrased in practical terms: I am very disillusioned with people. It is horrendous that so few are willing to share in the work load. (Paul actually said not to feed them, and I don't think he meant just in earthly foods, either. Similar passages exist in Hebrews re: milk and solid foods.) It is utterly shameful that we allow our staff and leaders to burn themselves out so as to necessitate a summer break in ministries. And I am careful and deliberate in my employing the word "necessitate." We have to break because we are a broken body. In this sense of their argument, we owe a great debt to Barna and Viola for bringing to light the holy discontent this revelation merits. Unfortunately, they've convicted the crime instead of the criminals.

However, one might argue that, because we live in a different culture and time, God would find us disobedient if our worship resembled too closely that of Paul and the apostles. Another hole in the logic of Barna and Viola is the fact that their hypothesis supposes that Christian worship was pure until Constantine legalized it. But if they are suggesting that the Christians who embraced Constantine's changes were both genuine AND led astray, then we are forced to trace the faith-deviation further back, because that means that those who were doing church "properly" were also the ones who allowed for the drastically damning changes. There is a contradiction in there that we can't avoid. Obviously, the authors would say that the "right Christians" were simply lost or absorbed into all the pagan believers that jumped other ships to join the new breed of churches, and on this point I need more research. Not that I have reason to doubt the interpretation presented in the book, but I am committed to reading many of their sources. (Mind you, even if it were determined that liturgical church is evil, this would just lead back to the above point that God sat back and watched it happen, in which case we should think Him nothing more than an impotent spirit-being who cares little for the church in the first place. My convictions and conscience and the Spirit within me assure me that I don't need to go there.)

As I keep learning, the truth is a lot harder and more demanding than my former ignorance. Before I was dissatisfied, and now I am quite overwhelmed with the work that lies ahead. I think you were right when you noted that Satan would not likely take me away from the Yarmouth Wesleyan just so I might "fight the good fight" in an organic setting; he'd be more apt to render me into a cynic with arms perpetually crossed in disdain. I would here repeat what you said before, that if God were leading me elsewhere it would eventually suffer some kind of institutionalization (if not corruption) for the mere fact that churches are comprised of people.

I do believe, however, that my time away has given God a chance to work in me. That could have been the purpose all along. I'm reading with heightened interest the Andrew Murray book you lent me, and I see that there are seasons in life when God wants to do with us what He did for Christ: take us into the desert, away from everything, and prepare us for something we can't imagine. (Okay, so maybe Christ knew in advance, but He's not exactly of the same breed as us. :D) If I can paraphrase what God might have been saying to me: "James, I need you to shed all the distractions and learn to lean on me. You are way too prone to fighting your own battles. Yes, if you treat church as a weekly fix or a mandatory practice that temporarily raises you up a bit, all it does is allow Satan more room and momentum to ram you into the ground. But that's only because you've been hinging on what you think you've been doing in my favour. If, on the other hand, you learn to let me work through you, which I can't do so long as you use the church as a crutch, only then I can use you to implement actual change in this world."

I see in hindsight that my reaction to Satan is often to wrestle with him, and I don't think I need to tell you how futile it is or how merciless he's been toward me. Not to defend the obscene amount of time I spent/spend alone with my thoughts, but I am certainly guilty of mismanaging time that should have been alone with God. Instead of welcoming His fellowship, I cursed Him to His face for how lonely it felt. God was sick of it, and I needed a timeout.

So yeah, that's my latest contribution to our ongoing dialogue.

Your brother in Christ,

James

God is Hard to Love

2008-08-25T20:58:00.007-03:00

So I'm reading about church history and various Hellenistic philosophies and have reached the sobering conclusion that everything in church, aside from prayer and Scripture, deviates from the genuine orthopraxy as demonstrated by the apostles and described in the New Testament. It's quite a mindfuck, but if you want to read about the origins of mainline Christian liturgies, you will be thrust with two revelations:

1) So much of what we do week after week is not only based on pagan sources, it effectively inhibits the natural expression of the church, which, done properly, serves as a body under the headship of Christ. In other words, Christianity is not about "playing church" or orders of worship (liturgy) or sermons; it's about every time God presses upon your heart to bring food to a needy family or hold the shop door open for an elder or when He encourages you to strengthen your brothers and sisters with supportive words or gestures. Restated, Christianity is supposed to be a way of life, but it has been subverted by human tradition and complacency into a habit.

Don't be surprised at how inane and un-kingdom-building church distractions can be. The great controversies that I've observed since becoming a member at my church have included such saucy demons as "the drums were too loud" or "why do we perform so many modern songs and not enough hymns?" Strangely, none ever laments that "church" has ceased to signify or express itself as the unified Body of Christ and has metamorphosized into an austere club for those who believe in New Testament theology but don't think Christ would be so bold as to ask them to drift from their comfort zones so treasures may be amassed in heaven.

But here is the falacy!! Church has become a brand, a feather in the cap of Jesus's influence. It ought to be an imageless and transparent lifestyle, the individual members having so yielded themselves to the Holy Spirit that Christ just beams through their complexion. But we are sinners, and so we fight this invisible war with an enemy that transcends our strength, and then we succumb to his bait, ultimately contributing to the cause opposite the one we adhese to our car bumpers.

The book I'm reading that's changing my way of thinking is entitled Pagan Christianity, written by Frank Viola and George Barna. Please note that I am not content to trust it inherently, though it's annotated sources are abundant and impressive. It has coerced me into ordering a 7000-page collection on the history of the church. I am also studying the Hellenistic belief systems, as I noted above, specifically between 100 B.C. and A.D. 100. In other words, I want to understand the philosophical and cultural landscape of the time of Jesus and the apostles. If my research takes me where the signs suggest, I will have to abandon the liturgical church, with all its Roman ceremonies and idols. Although Pagan Christianity does a great job illustrating the historicity of our practices and symbols, it seems quite clear to me that no matter the aesthetics, we should have great cause to judge everything we see in a church building. Paul and his followers met in private homes and occasionally assembled at bigger venues, but it was never under any particular guise. Why is it that we have been rendered so ignorant as to think engraven images of animals and crosses any different? God never showed us His face. He concealed Himself in a cloud when speaking to Moses and most of those to whom He appeared. We have no genuine idea of what Christ looked like, yet we fill churches with His "visage." We wear crucifixes, a clear blasphemy in Mosaic law, which Christ did not come to abolish, but appease our conscience with the tender delusion that a supposed image of anything, when worshipped, is not something a consistent God once condemned. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I rather think that if God didn't want to show us His face, He neither wanted us to fixate on what it might look like. And certainly, if we were to transgress to that extent, He would NEVER have wanted us to carve images and worship them in His place. But we use them for ambience and bombast that the apostles had no time for; they were, as it were, too busy investing in people who might invest in more people.

But I digress. I still have much to learn, including this matter of how come this was allowed to happen in the first place, seeing as it stifles Christ's headship of His members.

2) Because of all the above, it is perfectly natural to feel spiritually unsettled if sitting in a pew like a spectator doesn't bring you closer to God or into a right relationship with Him. The "goal" of the Christian is to achieve the kind of submission to Christ that would transform the believer into one of His earnest servants, able to call down the powers of heaven in the name of Jesus Christ himself. If church, in its militaristic assembly, has failed to accomplish the above in your life, then you should take solace in the knowledge that it can't, and there is no certain deficiency on your part to make yourself receptive to God. In fact, there are very sound arguments that suggest it prevents you from being the kind of person that successfully and faithfully serves for God's glory and kingdom. In 1 Corinthians 12, it speaks of the church as being the unified Body of Christ, but what kind of connection is achieved among members if all face the pulpit and never interact with or encourage or edify one another like genuine brothers and sisters? I am not here suggesting that it is a bad thing to worship God in assembly, but I am saying that God, as He tells us in the epistles, intended for church to be much, much more than we practice. With a grain of salt, we have become wholly ignorant to God's instruction through Paul, even though it is likely with good intentions that most have been involved in this.

So if you find yourself uninspired by the church, don't write off God. But there is a catch here. Where traditional, ritualistic church doesn't build up the Body, organic church requires an extreme, essentially lethal commitment to God. One must surrender oneself entirely to be part of the functioning Body of Christ. I think that there are some very earnest people who respond to God often, but I have met few who even make it a priority. This is largely due to false teaching and our sinful nature, which has blocked off the internal hints that suggest we aren't as in tune with the Spirit as we could be. I am deathly frightened by the idea that entire generations have died, confident in a salvation that might not be granted them. Brass tacks: When Christ divides the sheep from the goats, it won't matter how well you sang God's praises on Sunday morning or studied your Bible; it will come down to whether or not you fed Him when He was hungry or went to visit Him in prison or made the Bible the guide to your every decision.

I don't know what to do next, but I guess I won't be going to Bible college next year. There are some pastors who I tremendously respect, but I just can't reconcile any career that might pattern myself after a church that is more organized than organic. By the way, if we wonder why we never see miracles in church, and yet people in extreme poverty allegedly do, it should arouse the following suspicion in you: do miracles happen at all, or do they only happen to certain people? My theology forces me to answer thusly: In affluent cultures, materialism is the underlying religion; in poor regions, the culture is so bleak and merciless that it doesn't have the sheer power to influence people enough as to distort God's message. People in other areas have only God to lean on, whereas we inhabit areas that are so richly blessed that our eyes can't help but see the blessings and their abundance and forget the Blesser. We have so much that we shouldn't logically question or doubt whether we should ever run out of blessings. And yet, we are still human and still pine for comfort and belonging and a relationship with our Creator, but so compelling are the distractions and adverts and legalisms and postmodernisms and trends that we have become so twisted as to not make spiritual health the top of our agenda. Why should we see miracles? And why should I continue to adhere to a system that fails to stimulate, but succeeds at simulating something we've become too ignorant to identify or want: a permanent residence with God.

But I'm discouraged. I haven't allowed God to seep into the deeper parts of myself, and it's why I'm finding out the hard way that all the theology in the world won't fill the void in my heart. No idea what to do next. None.

When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be a Scriptducta

2008-08-16T00:22:00.002-03:00

scriptducta // n. a Bible-thumpin' rappa "Holy Moses, that scriptducta is all abizzout the Benjamites!"

Poo. So many negative, uninspired posts. ("Keep it simple.")

Alright then, a bit of healthy bardin' it up!

AIN'T NO CLOAK JOKER
(c) 2008 Scriptducta Scriptductin Ltd.
lyrics: MC Trunk

We wuz chillin' w'th'LORD and He was talkin' bout sin
'bout not schlepping that new wine in tha old wineskins
When a ruler, sans one daughter, now come sauntering in
Wept and begged, "Jesus, touch her, and she'll smile again!"

So's the Lord, so composed, dropped such luminous rhymes
And the vein crossed His temple kept impeccable time
Then some leper-ass hoochie skulked and tugged on His cloak
The whole mob halted, knelt for stones, when He spoke:

"Take heart, bleeding lady, your faith has healed you!
Now don't be frontin', healed for nothin'
Be blameless 'fo' the Father been revealed you."

*drumroll*

That's all I have so far.

The Crux of the Matter

2008-08-04T23:53:00.003-03:00

"This is what the LORD says, he who made the earth, the LORD who formed it and established it—the LORD is his name: 3 'Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.' (Jeremiah 33:2-3)

Seems simple enough. But have you ever wondered why God doesn't answer most of those prayers?

Okay, let's rephrase it, then: Why should our sincerity determine whether God answers? If God loves us, as He so often suggests-- if He calls out to us, as He so often suggests-- if He taps at the door every instant of our life on earth, why does He let these opportunities drift on by? Why are deathbed prayers and conversions so unrequited? (Granted, this is my own perception of the matter.)

Even when God came specifically to save the lost sheep of Israel, some fell through the cracks. Matthew 13:58 says that lack of faith denies miracles. If I'm to use a bit of deduction, I'd say the same applies to prayer. There's a huge disjunction there. If my conscious mind is not my will, I feel lost. If my volition is not expressed in my deliberate thought, if my earnestness is not intrinsically conducted through things I speak with my mouth, how can I know what I truly, truly desire? When I joined the Wesleyan church, for instance, I submitted myself to the discipline and gave up my weekly lotto tickets. Translation: the faith I had placed in a chance windfall not only belonged to God, it should be appropriately placed in Him. Fair enough, I stopped buying the things. Sure, I saved a couple bucks a week, but it doesn't seem like I'll possibly pay off my car loan by the time I feel God has called me to study theology. So what gives?

More importantly, why is my spiritual life so stale? Why is it that I can ask for the unsearchable truths and feel like I'm barking at the wind? Or chasing it, as Solomon would say. I think I finally have the answer, but there's a catch. In Luke 22, we see the famous exchange between Christ and Peter in which Christ predicts that Peter will deny Him three times. I think there is a profound message buried in verses 31 through 34, but I find it's a little more clear when I read it backwards.

Jesus answered, "I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me." (Luke 22:34)

We do this every time we fail to profess our faith.

But he replied, "Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death." (Luke 22:33)

We take theoretical decisions in our minds as if we intended to live them out. Then we don't.

"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." (Luke 22:31-32)

We assume that a commitment to Christ reaches its fulfillment in the knowledge of Christ. (Some people might define this disaffected, cerebral profession as gnosticism, for the record.)

Those who cling exceedingly well to their faith might even be found to reflect a strong "Christian" demeanour and God-honouring attitude. By this I mean strictly in terms of conduct. As it says in the Bible, we judge each other by actions, not intentions. (See 1 Corinthians 2:9-15 to note how differently God works.) Attitude as an outward manifestation accomplishes little in Christian terms. I believe it's an evidential sign that one is in tune with the Spirit, but having a "good disposition" hardly makes one a Christian. The world hosts many good people, but God is not after the well-behaved; He's after the God-seeking. Furthermore, we've all fallen short of His glory, so good can never be sufficient. That's why those who regard acting properly as a means to salvation are extracting such a diluted and cheap form of grace from God's instruction, but that's the kind of grace that would give most of us the confidence to impulsively chime "I would die for my faith!"

Well, guess what. You not only have to; you have to die today. Right this second. If God has His way, it would have been accomplished the moment you accepted Christ. But as C.S. Lewis so astutely put it: whatever you keep of yourself, you lose in the next life. (Don't expect me to cite that properly, at least not tonight.)

At present, I just don't have it in me to treat this subject exhaustively. Besides, others have done a better job of it. But I will say this, and with confidence: If God is to give anyone so much as an ounce of unsearchable truth, it inherently caries with it a certain responsibility. Not just to the one receiving it, that he or she should live it out, but that it is to be shared with everyone. Otherwise stated, learning the mysteries of God MUST render you into a different person than the one who originally asked to be taught these transcendent truths. If you're just going to take a factoid from God and get cold feet about whether you can splice it with your life because it seems "too big a sacrifice to make," because it seems like it would take you too far out of your comfort zone, why should God hand it down to you? Conversely, even if you don't ask for it yet are capable of living it out, you don't even need to ask. Consider Saul of Tarsus or that unimpressive harpist named David or Abram. Two of them were so transformed that God saw fit to rename them. All men were created for His worship, but two of the aforementioned had changed so much that God couldn't call them by their former selves anymore. Inevitably, if God is to give you a new identity, it will be a better one. But the letting go...

It's one thing to know that Christ is the truth. It's one thing to know that an eternal separation from God would be much more devastating than living sacrificially like the apostles did. But honestly, there's enough teaching floating around that it's pretty damned impossible not to encounter these doctrines before one's passing. The question is, do you have a spirit that not only seeks God, that not only knows about Him, but that is willing to follow Him? No matter what? It has occurred to me on many occasions that all Biblical stories are essentially God asking people to follow Him. Every new lesson I absorb only reinforces that analogy.

I don't honestly know how I'd answer, though. My problem is I haven't got an excuse left in the world, either. God has made too much effort to win me over. Many months ago, I acceded. So what? Nowhere in the Bible does it suggest I just twiddle thumbs until my body decays and my spirit floats upward. My conscience doesn't let me sleep if I close my eyes thinking that I have no obligation to my brothers and sisters (in Christ or otherwise). So now I need to search within myself to see which is stronger: the fear or the faith. It's not easy. No one said it would be. God doesn't want behaviour or tithes or any of that legalistic junk. He wants me. Body, mind, spirit, soul. Everything. I don't get to hang on to any of it, whether tangible or abstract. And I'm discouraged by the fact that I know how to let go of my material things, AKA the stuff I hold on to, but what I can't wrap my little mind around is how to release what I'm holding on with. What's worse, I'm running out of time.

And yet, I'm so hungry for truth. I just pray that one of these times, when I catch a glimpse of it and it threatens to change me, I won't balk at the process.

Mere Christianity; A Summary, Commentary, Whatever

2008-07-23T09:46:00.003-03:00

All the staples are present: Christianity is a task to be completed by Christ, not sinners; Christianity is not a membership but the process by which men and women are rendered into Christ, literally "into Him" and Christ dwelling in them. Everyone read this book, but it certainly doesn't--nor could it--serve as a substitute for Scripture.

This oddly titled post was not intended to be a book review, so I'll be something of a jerk and not complete said review. What I truly wanted to accomplish was a bit of discussion concerning something that Lewis did a fantastic job explaining for me. I would like to keep your attention for this part, not because I am a great mind sharing something I have discovered but because I am someone who has just read a very insightful book--though I did recently experience a lot of what Lewis describes.

Further to the point, I should like to focus here on the process I mentioned above, being turned into Jesus Christ. Much as I hate to bear bad news, I hate even more to share in its experience: maybe it was just me who was so naive. Maybe you all looked at me and thought, "He must know. Everyone knows." But I think this point will be lost on many, if not all of us at one point. This is a hard, hard process. I want to use stronger words but the situation is so absurd that I fall back on a common descriptor because we have nothing in human terms that could possibly explain how utterly impossible it is for us to achieve eternal life. We can allow it to be done in us because we have such a loving Saviour, but we cannot, by our own mustard, accomplish a singular thing. Our nature is to be a race of abhorrent antichrists. (Why on earth would God have had to flood the whole thing unless it was the nature of humanity to be utterly repulsive in His sight? We turn on the news and are disgusted to hear about rapists and murderers and tragedy; I believe God was looking down upon a culture of it. Sin should yield death; don't curse Him for being a righteous Judge!!)

But here's the problem, and it is not the least bit comforting. We can each imagine, to one's personal capacity, what this means: "dying to self." The people in this world who would identify themselves as happy would likely never have considered this. The people who are discouraged are trying to do it themselves. (I am speaking here in Christian terms, not meaning the kind of discouragement that comes from extreme poverty or any such existence, though I would like to speak about these people afterward.) The people who transcend happiness or discouragement are the ones who are doing it correctly, and I highly doubt that anyone yet alive in a physical sense could achieve that. But One did. He lived and never sinned and offered Himself to God Almighty as a worthy sacrifice on behalf of the lost sheep. God, in accordance with His Perfect Law, deemed this a fair exchange: Christ's life and blood in exchange for the wrath God intended for humanity. It would have happened again but for His forbearance (Romans 3:25). (I would also mention His covenant with Noah, but Revelation indicates that God will not break that one. Though I would also think that those who endure the tribulation would exchange its events and plagues for a surge of water instead.) That is the Man and Lord into whom we are being rendered. I have reason to believe that I was recently subject to some profound contact with God, and I am not suggesting I would have been remotely near the end of my journey into that state, but I think it would have been significantly stronger than I was before the blessing. But I balked at it. I completely rejected it when it started a couple weeks ago. And then last week I found myself reading about it in Lewis's book. And if this helps anyone, ever, I feel obliged to share it. But understand something here, because some of you have never considered trying this and some of you have given up on it or are, like me, incredibly discouraged. Some important points to understand. These are universal.

1. You must take up Christ's suffering, not just His life. This will absolutely make you question whether you want to do it. The best of us will choose to keep going. I am praying for another chance to be unraveled, and I am praying I remember these past couple weeks when it happens. I should like to choose the painful path next time, not the one of self-medication and flesh indulgence.

2. It is our nature to say No. That is the normal and logical choice. Many of us have been greatly seduced by the illusion, not reality, that is this world. There is another one around us that is eternal, wherein good and evil battle as visibly as your hand appears when you hold it before your eyes. No human ever reached out to God. Although we are so perverted and buried in sin, God transcends it. It's easy to ignore, so be careful. But God does call out to everyone. And it won't make sense at first. You may even feel like God has abandoned you, but what He has truly asked you to do is let go of another, deeper part of yourself. What you may not understand, and what I didn't until recently, is that He is going replace that piece of you with the corresponding one in Christ. You will receive more than a lion's share of what you give up, because you will have the equivalent portion of Christ. In you. This is not like giving up an evening brandy; it's about losing a part of what you think is your individuality, but your individuality is going to die. Conversely, if you were replaced with Jesus Christ, if you became a genuine temple for His Spirit, well, let me tell you, you'd be absolutely invincible. But you wouldn't be fighting for the goals of your former days, the desires of your flesh. Nay, you'd be contributing to a cause that will never expire. Even when the world is gone, the fruits of your labour and the treasures you have gathered will be in pristine condition and waiting for you in a world that makes this one look like the stuff under your boots.

Anyway, later on I shall add to this in a second post, describing why the meek and poor are the blessed ones. And I have personal examples, too.

I don't know if any of this makes sense. Honestly. It's early, I'm sleep-deprived, going through quite a spell, and so on. If this helps you, great. If not, ask God to explain these issues to you in better fashion than I can. I don't know that I understand them myself, but I do know that behind my veiled impression of the ideas presented above lies a great and important truth.

My Envy

2008-07-06T00:19:00.003-03:00

The other night I had the honour of enjoying a round of poker with some wonderful friends. It was one of the many steps in my sort of "turnaround phase" that God initiated when I finally just, well, gave up on things.

I think it's fair to say that it's been a terribly--as in, incredibly and dangerously--educational few weeks. Before I talk about why I envy a bunch of bugs, let me first explain a couple things.

First, I am rather convinced that it is God's will for me to immediately leave my current place of work. Heaven knows I could list off several dozen reasons why, but they really don't matter. My conscience tells me that it's God's will for me to place my faith in the unknown. John Wesley coined a term that I've adored since I first read it, though it might have been re-written for my benefit, as I haven't read any of his actual sermons yet. The term in question is "the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit." Yes, the stirrings of the Great Counsellor Himself.

Why do I mention this business about my work? Simply because I didn't obey, and things have been increasingly stressful ever since. I mentioned spiritual warfare in my previous post. I have no doubt, as the Scripture corroborates, that we find ourselves fighting an invisible war into which we were born and of which we often find ourselves a victim. That's all fine and dandy (pardon the facetious tone). But it has felt very much as if the Lord Himself, the Good Shepherd, has been the one frustrating my steps. I guess, once you've been exposed to God as much as I have--I'm thinking here of my Easter experience, and a few others I'm too cowardly to post about--disobedience should invite that figurative disciplinary rod. It stings, brothers and sisters, let me tell you!

So, moving along, how does one forge on when he has made himself vulnerable to both good and evil? How should I react when God and Satan both want to halt my progress until I should "get in line"? I've written before about the spiritual tug-of-war, as I tried to describe the tension of this life, but it seems as if lately I've been pulling back. As many of us know, the nature of the beast is such that resistance to God is an automatic win for the devil, and fighting with the devil is about as foolhardy as challenging the Creator. Evil is an immense force. We cannot hope to conquer it of our own strength. I've been trying. I know better. But that's just how far astray I've been. (And let me assure you I am no better for it, even though fighting against my evil impulses seems like a relatively noble endeavour. Instead of being some pseudo-hero, all I've gained is some extra footholds buried into my spirit.)

I must confess, as a result of these points and many others, that I felt a strange sort of jealousy the other night, as I arrived home from poker. It was roughly 1:00 a.m., and night had long set in. I don't know if you've ever seen headlights casting a beam across a somewhat neglected lawn, with thousands upon thousands of shadows facing the thick woods. There's a faint mist that can be seen hovering over the ground, no doubt radiant heat from an unmerciful sun. But the most captivating part of the whole scene was the hundreds of flies that bobbed near the grass. I really have no idea what they were doing. I can't imagine they were doing anything like bees do; grass doesn't need to be polinated. I don't know what they might have been gathering; I didn't see a single one of them leaving his post to return to some nest or hive somewhere. I don't even know what species I was seeing, just that they were winged and would probably be easy to crush into a lifeless powder if I'd been so inclined. But I swear to this: they knew precisely what they were doing. It just didn't seem fair.

Matthew 6:25-34
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

There's something I'll never understand about faith. The nature of creation suggests that, as beings with everlasting souls, we mean more to God. A bee, though it serves a purpose, and serves it without hesitation, strikes me as a much more faithful creature than I've been lately. In books like Psalms we read some of the most beautiful naturalist poetry about how the birds themselves praise God with their singing. When the Pharisees told Christ to silence His followers as He rode into Jerusalem to be killed, Christ turned to them and said that if the mob didn't sing His praises, the stones themselves would. Supposedly, if I were truly faithful, I could accomplish absolutely anything in His name. But I can't even hold onto my own beliefs on some days, so how could I ever compel a mountain to move?

And there's the hitch, people. Who among us has complete, utter, unwavering, eternal faith? Who among us has been so disconnected from his reason that he can demand a mountain step aside, and then it does? My rudimentary understanding of hermeneutics suggests that Christ only spoke that figuratively, but if He truly was who He said, wouldn't even that be possible?

Maybe those silly little creatures don't have enough awareness to look at humans and think, "You know, we've got absolutely no inheritance, and these chumps do. What gives?" Then again, maybe if they could pause and question things, bees would take holidays down south instead of doing their freaking work.

God is slowly but surely pulling me out of my slump. I've learned a lot about myself lately, but I still haven't let go of one question that drives a wedge between me and my Saviour: Why so much effort for me?

My Heart Will Condemn Me

2008-07-01T22:50:00.007-03:00

Things have been really quiet around here. Too quiet. I'm house sitting at the moment, and it wasn't long ago that I would have rejoiced in the peace and quiet. Not that I particularly enjoyed being alone, but this time last year I had no real exposure to any grand purpose. My outlets were anything but healthy, and they only offered momentary, fleeting solutions.

I guess you could say I have the habits of an introvert and the soul of a people person. When you've been generally misunderstood your whole life, certain survival instincts kick in to counteract the self-hatred that forms over time. The snapshot recap is this: after repeatedly hearing that you don't matter, you start to believe it so you can at least align yourself with those who seem pit against you. You become a figurative enemy of a practical problem, yourself. Your mind somehow skews the situation so you see yourself in two different lights: first, as an object, the source of the hatred you feel, and second as an esoteric agent that sets itself against the object. This is a complex problem that I could hardly describe in proper detail, and it might just be my interpretation of a much larger and more dangerous machine, but that's how I would describe my pre-Christian days. This being the season that it is, I've been feeling a lot of old sentiments lately, and it's scary.

First of all, I don't think it the fault of any person or people that, for the last week, I've probably spent an average of 20+ hours per day by myself. Most of it was at home with little chance for human interaction. It happened that way, and that's probably all there is to it on the surface of things. At this point, I couldn't say with confidence whether I think my present rut is based on spiritual warfare, chemical imbalance, my own cowardice, or a slew of other possibilities, but I think this four-step breakdown does a fair job at summarizing my state of mind:

1. About a week ago, when my time of "confinement" started, I asked God to rebuke some seriously dangerous patterns of thought.

2. When He didn't, I asked Him again.

3. This turned into me cursing Him for not doing it.

4. Eventually, I started to wonder whether I've just been a total fool based on the following: If God were real, wouldn't He want to help me with putting off negative thinking? I understand that He doesn't want all the things for me that I do, but surely He can't ever condone destructive thoughts. So if God isn't real, doesn't that make me an absurd person for thinking myself an "intellectual"? Of course, by consequence, there's no devil either, so all my sinister thoughts are of my own creation.

I could easily argue how enough time alone at home could spawn these thoughts. In fact, I think I could make a seriously compelling case against the doctrine of hell, or at least eternal damnation. This is where my mind has been-- yeah, not good, right?

(By the way, anyone have, off the top of his or her head, any Biblical verse(s) suggesting that hell is an eternal punishment? I know about the wailing and gnashing teeth and junk, but where does this concept of eternity in hell come from? Why would we refer to heaven as "eternal life" if there were eternal life in hell? Wouldn't Christ have called it "eternal bliss," or some such thing?)

Actually, that aside/question probably does more to describe my state of mind than I could accomplish in a 100-page essay.

(From several days ago. Unposted because I didn't want to discuss it any further.)

Perseverance AKA "The Hard Lesson"

2008-06-25T23:17:00.003-03:00

Heh. This is simply going to be one of those posts, then, isn't it? No, I'm not going to start Bible thumping or hurling proverbial lightning bolts, but the reader just can't appreciate how scatterbrained I am over here. If I wanted any semblance of authority, I'd aim for a lot more transparency and delete this paragraph. But I need this one. This is my launching pad. I'd suggest I've gotten sick of watching a blinking cursor, but the fact is my gaze has long drifted from the screen. Not only am I in a season where my commitment is being tested daily, I'm finding that the narrow margins by which I scrape by are seeping into my ability to write about the very subject that is both plaguing and rewarding me in ways I couldn't begin to articulate.

Earlier tonight, I alluded in conversation to the first couple months of my Christian walk. The response I got was very insightful and accurate: it's like a honeymoon, only with the Creator of the universe. No arguments here, but my poor articulation really glossed over the point I was trying to make, which was not that I was on fire for God, but that it was made pretty darned easy to be that way. As it happened, my job situation was absurdly flexible--so flexible, in fact, that many consecutive days afforded me enough time to read anywhere from 30 to 60 (yes, 60) pages of Scripture.

Believe me, if you want to test whether there's any validity to God's existence, commit yourself to sincerely reading the Bible and tell me if you find yourself addicted to any of your old vices. The crux is in approaching it without bias, but I assure you the result will be a strange but genuine release from the bondage of your innermost stumbling blocks. Maybe Scripture was the whole "secret" to my early success. Maybe I should make that point and end this post, resign myself to reading the Bible in every spare moment I have, and perhaps that way I can avoid some of the tests to which I've been subjected lately. But it doesn't seem that I am presently in such a season of life.

I have to note the above point, that I was so invested in my new life that I really tore through the Instruction Manual. It probably sounds like I'm boasting, which is not my intention, but let me here burst my own bubble in case there are any sets of eyes rolling backward out there. My focus has been sorely lacking, and I read significantly less. Even on my "good days." Now then, finally getting to my point, I'm starting to feel that I've lost the reason for it all. I'm starting to feel like life is utterly dragging its feet about getting a move on, and I don't think it's a coincidence. God doesn't desire fickle servants, and even in the moments when I wouldn't [necessarily] consider myself a victim of spiritual attacks, I find life really lacks a certain...magic. In other words, now that God has called me to exhibit patience--or extreme patience, as it feels to me--will I prove faithful?

The honest to goodness truth is this: while I have hardly been at risk of renouncing my faith, I have been very lackadaisical about it. Often. It seemed in my earliest months of belief that I was not only feeling a rejuvenated spirit but that I had been suddenly bestowed with an absolute mastery over my vices. There were entire chunks of times, consecutive days and weeks, when I was hardly tempted at all. Sure, we all sin in our minds, but my self-control was impeccable for remarkable (for me) stretches. Now, daily, it feels like I'm being utterly drilled. It's gotten so exhausting that I often feel like succumbing to my sinful desires just so I can steal a bit of rest. As I said in an earlier post, fighting this battle is a daily challenge. It was very unchallenging in the early days. It spoiled me.

But I suppose God needed to protect me then. Heck, for all I know, He does the same thing for all new believers. And then you enter into a new season when He has to up the ante. I don't know what the common reaction is, but mine could be expressed in these terms: "What the heck changed? Why am I fighting this alone now?" I think I also mentioned this in an earlier post, but my recent jaunt through the New Testament made me feel really uncomfortable. Too often did I see it mentioned that God calls us to not only persevere, but to be thankful in the process. Thankful? It feels like I'm drowning here. Like all people, I need to feel there's a point to it. As mature believers already know, there is. The problem with it is not that the reward isn't breathtakingly amazing; it's that the reward for perseverance is an even more challenging test that threatens with greater force to knock the faith right out of you. When I was a new believer, I might have scoffed at this:

James 1:4
Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

Some of you have noticed that I glossed over one of the most, erm, unsettling verses in the Bible. You know, the part about considering it pure joy and all that. In my Christian circle, I've heard this corny joke more than once: "The book of James; that's your book!" Or something to that effect. (And for the record, no one tells cornier Bible jokes than I do.)

Moving along, I'd like to respond earnestly to something spoken in jest. I would not have written that book unless God explicitly wrote it through me. I guess it's the same thing for all the prophets and Biblical authors. Every one who contributed to the Bible's 66 books had to write about ideals they couldn't, and didn't, achieve. This one in particular makes me uncomfortable. As much as I struggle with perseverance, it is much easier to persevere than to enjoy the process of persevering. Those are two entirely different machines; aren't they?

So the point I'd like to make in closing is this: Not that it functions as an excuse, and not that I'd like to salt any wounds that James the brother of Jesus might have felt, but isn't it easy to forget that he once embodied the antithetic principle? He certainly antagonized Jesus prior to the resurrection. However, it doesn't mean we shouldn't consider his words as credible, nor should we consider him a less than credible authority on this subject. He suffered for his ministry, and the Bible is utterly clear that to be a Christ follower one must not only deny himself but suffer in the name of Jesus and for the sake of the gospel and for Him.

As for me, I don't feel much satisfaction in venting here. I still feel that life is dragging and wearing at me like the waves erode the shoreline. But if I am the least bit closer to being complete, I need to celebrate that. Again, I'm not boasting here, because I don't feel like I've really accomplished anything. It feels more like I'm staving off death and indulging in life. It feels like I have heavy chains around my feet as I try to move forward. But I still want to be made complete. I've stumbled many times on the way, but I haven't fallen. It ain't time to raise any banners yet, but it ain't time to burn them either.

Forging On (Again)

2008-06-17T00:10:00.004-03:00

I don't know who all prayed for me, but it worked. Thank you, and may the Lord bless you richly.

I had a remarkable visit with a tremendous man of God, erm, yesterday now (it's just past midnight). I was also reminded today of something the Lord asked me to do several months ago, which I rationalized my way out of.

I should probably quote Scripture here, but I'll use the words of Matt Redman instead, as they profoundly resonate with me. Also, it might be a pride thing, but I find it easier to hold onto human words in times of crisis. Clearly, this will have to change if I'm to persevere in my walk. It's funny, though, how I try to be permissive with myself, how I try to justify my stumbling with humanness. Sometimes I take a very docetic approach to worship, i.e. assume that I can't relate to Christ because of who He is. The problem in doing this is that it assumes that because Christ is God that He suffered nothing on the cross--none of the loneliness and agony and humiliation--because of a falsely assumed bulletproof trait. The honesty of the situation is that, in spite of everything being His footstool at present, He felt the sting of death. But He knew what His lot was: eternal life. Just because He bore our sins with limitless faith, it doesn't mean they failed to pierce Him in the moment. If this had been the equivalent of an alcohol swab, not the biggest needle in history, how could we think of it as any kind of sacrifice?

And so, we share the good and the bad with He who ransomed us. That's one of the not so subtle points that escapes nonbelievers: if we truly belonged to ourselves, if we could truly govern our lives in independent ignorance, our inescapable end would be the wrath of God. Hence, He who seeks to save his life will lose it, but he who loses his life for Christ will be saved. Not save himself, but be saved. (The wording in the Gospels suggest that we can save ourselves, but on the testimony of the Spirit in me, I will go out on a limb and declare that we have no more power to save ourselves than we do to roll up the heavens like a carpet.) And so, as Redman notes, in addressing God:

"Blessed be Your Name on the road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering. Blessed be Your Name."

If you know anything about my past, particularly my snobby side, it ought to make your head spin that I have worship music in my car. And in my heart. Hah! Maybe I should use that little nugget to prove just how real God is when chatting with some of my nerdier friends. ;-)

A Rather Inescapable Truth

2008-06-15T21:31:00.003-03:00

Preamble: This may seem like an odd juxtaposition, but it should be understood that my previous post was written a few weeks ago and doesn't entirely reflect my current bump in the road. I could censor this blog, but what's the point of journaling if I filter half my thoughts. Hence, the following was written by hand in the wee hours. Saturday sucked.

Christianity is kind of like a chess match. You storm out of the gates on fire for God, just as chess players can perform the first few moves quite swiftly. There are a few opening options that lend themselves to vulnerability, but I suspect it would be sufficient to read one chapter on the subject of chess to discern that the real game begins once a few pawns have been shifted. Similarly, Christianity rewards newcomers, even the hopelessly sinful, with such an inviting spirit. As for me, I've used this analogy in the past, but when I checked all my preconceptions at the door and strove for an honest reading of the Bible, it felt like a million Christmases. I was so happy. Back to chess, when you only have a few pieces off their default tiles--am I using anything near proper terminology?--it's easy to review the entire board, and certainly your own options. You haven't much reason to self-doubt. A few moves later, you've accomplished the equivalent of praying out loud for the first time or touching someone's hand and having the Holy Spirit pour through them, and it's like a confirmation that, even though you're inexperienced, you might have just enough logic on your side to get through this thing. Before long, though, things get kind of muddled. A new analogy becomes more adequate after a few months of Christian living.

Christianity is kind of like a spiritual tug-of-war. The breakdown is as follows:

Team A: Satan, who pulls hardest;
The rope: you;
Team B: God, who would pull if He could touch you, but as a sinful rope is incompatible with His nature, He places a Spirit of truth in you that some of us hear quite adequately.

Please understand that teams were listed as such to illustrate a point, not because Satan has intrinsic right to top billing. Moving along...

Last night, as I was trying to kill a mosquito, a futile endeavour, but such was my Saturday, it occurred to me. I think it was there the whole time, and I also think I mentioned it in one of my recent testimonies, but it hadn't dawned on me that this one little nugget posed such a tremendous threat to my salvation. Before I disclose it, a few disclaimers.

1) I love the Holy Spirit and the law by which it governs. The absolute best moments of my life, isolated and temporary though they were, were Spirit-filled and Spirit-led.

2) God loves me. More than ever. He's placed more wisdom in me since October than I was able to accumulate by/for myself over 27 years. And I tried to define myself by the stuff.

But wisdom is a double-edged sword. Wisdom is the kind of revealer that articulates the implications and repercussions of choices. It seems now that I can't turn a corner without understanding that my most natural instincts are wrong. Not just that, I have a decent grasp on how wrong they are. And although I want to see the right thing accomplished, although I want to promote the Law of the Spirit, I don't honestly care whether I succeed at it so much as I want to see it done. Now, it should here be stated that I will continue to endeavour to do God's will. But the reason I think my Christian walk will end in self-tragedy is because, in spite of all the things I've tried, for all the connections I've made and paths I've crossed, I still don't, at all, care for myself. Being self-aware of my sin doesn't help the issue. See, it just so happens that I've engrained self-loathing so completely into my being, that I needed to justify in my mind why I felt so outcast (even as "a sinner" among "sinners"), that this is as natural to me as breathing. For the most elementary of believers, the problem becomes evident: I will be convicted of hating one of God's servants, whom He loves. Namely, me.

I have said that I feel like I'm being pulled by two forces. I've also said that I want God to win. These are sincere statements. But it's as if God, who cannot touch sin and understandably can't pull me from His end, also refuses to communicate with me through the aforementioned Spirit to the point that I would have a clue in the world how I'm to proceed here. An the catch 22 is that I don't love myself enough to want it, even though it's what I most crave. And so, as is the nature of this game, Satan has an edge here.

I suffer considerable backslides when I knowingly sin. If I were inclined to forgive myself, as seems to be God's inclinations, I could repent like the average believer does. Even when I string together decent streaks of good behaviour, I end up collecting new insight into the Christian faith during these periods, and thus I find myself in a greater position to condemn myself when I inevitably stumble. Considering the tense nature of the good-evil struggle, I find myself reaching a point of extreme exhaustion, to say the least. It all came to a head yesterday. It saddens me, also, that I could probably handle a crisis with a fair bit of composure, but when enough consecutive little things go wrong, when I have a day of sheer frustration and missteps, it kind of detonates something in me. C.S. Lewis once described Christianity as a "fighting religion," and I feel very much like I've run out of fight. Because of the above points, I lack a certain objective or goal in all this: I want my body to be used in a Christ-like form of service, but I don't want it to receive any of the rewards and blessings God offers such a person--and yet, secretly I do want that, but if I could only hear that stinking friggin' Spirit's voice! (This, I will here acknowledge, could be the entire source of the problem, and my poor self-image could be the barrier. I know some people in my inner circle will likely make this point, but it does little good unless it can seep into my innermost being.)

A summary statement of the previous paragraph could be this: I pit myself against myself, and therefore I progress rather slowly in my walk with Christ. The result is a predictable pattern of increment success and failure, and it might even be argued that the best of my good behaviour lacks sincerity or heart. And at this point, I would like to consider God's feelings in all this.

As I have already noted, God loves me. I must, therefore, in my service for Him, act as if I love myself. By default. Yet I can't help but feel on occasion that if God truly loved me as the Scriptures claim, I would actually perceive His instructions for my life. If, on the other hand, God has determined that for the present season I am to work a 9-5 job that discourages me, bury myself in theological readings, and spend a whopping amount of time by my lonesome, where Satan finds me and jabs his megaphone into my ears with instructions that I would like to tempt myself into thinking are of God, then what precisely is God doing to help me out of my present circumstance? I won't lie here; I'm sick of this back and forth, this tension between good and evil. I would really love to just stop the fighting and rest. I truly hope it's just a temporary rut, but right now I feel entirely willing to step out of the reality that is this struggle and let the good and evil forces fight for possession of me. Ironically, even though God is the stronger contender, my understanding suggests the devil would get me by default. But what is an eternity of damnation to someone that doesn't care for himself at the lowest level of his consciousness? Again, I have reason to indulge sin, but for my unshakable desire to do the will of the Holy Spirit. And that, my friends, is my present conundrum.

Why is it that, if God dwells inside me and Satan calls to me from a distance, it feels like the opposite is true? Or maybe I was just plain right when I said I would be content to forget yesterday ever happpened. Anyway, prayers welcome. I don't actually want to fail here. It just feels like it would be so natural is all.

Cravings

2008-06-15T20:04:00.002-03:00

1 Samuel 1 (whole chapter)

When Peninnah tormented Hannah, causing her to weep bitterly on account of her infertility, I do not believe that was of God. If it was God's intent to test or punish her, her barrenness was enough. There are many examples in Scripture of God opening the wombs of women who conceive children so that His divine plan may come to fruition, just as there are cases, such as this one, in which God closes a woman's womb. It is what it is: one of His methods. But as to vocal taunting, that's of the world. I don't want to overstep here, don't want to prompt the Lord to pull the spiritual choke chain on me, but I just don't think He's in the business of teasing. Teaching? Yes. Disciplining those He loves? Absolutely. Mocking? No! I won't believe such a thing.

So, then, we know Hannah was barren and downcast. It's interesting to note, however, that she was blessed with virtually all the earthly comforts she could have had in her day—and some were quite uncommon. Elkanah loved her dearly. He gave her a double portion of meat on the day of sacrifice to the Lord. He spoke lovingly of her. His intent was clearly for heart's content. She wouldn't know until later, but Elkanah would even submit to her when she would eventually seek to give Samuel over to the Lord, even though the custom dictated that men call the shots. Of course, who would Elkanah have been to scoff at God's plan? And yet, in spite of all this, Hannah determined that happiness hinged on having a child, and it seemed at the beginning that she was just as concerned with social status as with motherhood. In other words, as I suspect would be inherent with polygamy, Hannah wanted to shut the vile mouth of "the other woman." Then something changed.

As soon as Hannah sought God's will for her life, it was set into motion. Clearly, God was not averse to blessing her with children, but God closed up her womb until her perspective changed. Once she accepted the idea that having a child would not be for her own stature or whim, but so she might contribute to God's kingdom, she submitted her will to God's. God, in turn, gave her the desires of her heart. Not because He's inconsistent but because He had placed said desires there in the first place. She knew the plan, but she wanted to chart her own map.

Hannah started praying openly to God. She cried out to Him, in faith, in such a dramatic fashion that Eli the priest thought she had drunk too much wine or beer. Again, with her new perspective it didn't matter how the world looked upon her; she wanted God to look down and see her devotion. Where previously she submitted to Peninnah's taunts, she now surrendered herself as a vessel of God's creation, and God made her a vessel for His creation.

Sometimes we examine our situations, take inventory of what we have, and we make judgments about where we are in life. It doesn't matter if we find ourselves in a state of wealth or poverty, as true riches don't come from gold mines or oil sands or strip malls—they come from the Lord. Ever heard it said that we should honour our mother and father? How much more honour could a mother receive than to know her child not only seeks God but was born for His purpose? By God's direction, Samuel appointed Israel's first two kings. He prophesied throughout his life. What more could Hannah of asked for? But that's key: she didn't just ask; that was a dead ender. Hannah had prayed for many years. It's not always about the asking, though the Bible says that many have not because they ask not. But in Hannah's case, she didn't just ask, she offered. Her prayers of requesting were denied, but her prayers of offering were found righteous in God's sight.

I've been researching material for a Sunday school class about cravings. In that process, I made a shocking discovery: it's good to crave. Don't misunderstand me; it's not good that we lack. It's not good that we deny God or that we, as a race, have broken and cursed the world by inviting sin into it. That's not what I'm saying. But isn't it wonderful that God placed within us a spirit that pines for His presence? It's true that many of us miss the big picture and try to feed our cravings with sustenance that sustains nothing, but when we acknowledge how we need God, when we earnestly seek Him, we have an awareness of what we lack. We catch glimpses of our purpose and the life God envisions for us—if we'd only accept it. When we crave, it's the soul's way of inviting God to be our Sovereign. It's an unspoken prayer every time we yearn for God to touch our lives. If unbelievers didn't crave, they wouldn't know that God was missing in their lives. What would motivate them to seek Him?

I've concluded that craving is not a sign of weakness. It's an act of wisdom. To crave is to care, to care that God wants a relationship with us. Hannah had intimacy with God through her prayers. Her life was blessed with meaning when she conceived Samuel for God's purpose. She fulfilled her destiny when she acted in faith and gave him over to God for temple service. He became a great prophet who lived in the faith and became her legacy. God is faithful to those who love Him.

That's why God can NEVER remove your craving from you when you try to satisfy it with things that will destroy you. Craving is a good thing. It's only by craving that we can stop craving, because it will never be taken away until God occupies the vacancies of your heart. Then, and only then, will you know the kind of peace Hannah did when she lived in obedience.

I've been sitting on this post for a few weeks now, but since the course is done, I thought I might share it. End transmission.

Clearing Out the Cobwebs

2008-05-20T23:41:00.003-03:00

Phew! It's not like I don't have some half-finished posts that I probably should have published, but it's been a rough go over the past few months. I won't mince words about that. I had a very poignant experience on Easter, as I previously wrote. I felt God's presence so intensely that I was brought to tears. Believe me, at this point in my life, it's a struggle for me to show emotion in front of people, including friends and family--let alone strangers. But I did. In a way, it was a silent but visible profession. I thought for certain that I couldn't stray after that, but I'd had a rebellious heart for a time.

Lately, I've been on fire again. I don't know what it was, whether I distorted some things in my mind, but I was searching for something that I just wouldn't find. Some of you might remember my post about losing our personalities at the resurrection. My friend Devan was a great (and always appreciated) friend in pointing out that my observation simply wasn't in the text. It seems that the crux of all my disillusionment was the fact that I was asking some of those mystery questions, some of the things we just aren't meant to know as humans. At this point, I might argue that some of God's greatest servants only achieved a state of obedience because of their willingness to simply trust Him. It says in many passages that Abraham was considered righteous, not because of his acts but because of his faith in God. Tonight, as I was reading through Philippians, I noticed something that eluded me before. With one seemingly negligible word, Paul spells it out: we just aren't going to understand the way this existence works. All we can do is place our faith and trust and destiny in God. For someone like me, it's hard to believe that something so simple could be all-encompassing. But it is. Pay close attention here:

Philippians 3:10-11
I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

Did you catch it? Here it is again:

I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11and so, SOMEHOW, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

Let's scroll up just a little bit to Philippians 2. Consider what Paul says about Christ's humility: "Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped..." The first time I read the New Testament, I noticed something really strange about Christ's description of Himself. I won't retrieve the verses this instant, but He often spoke of how He could forgive anyone who wronged Him, but He just couldn't pardon anyone who hates God or the Spirit. I'm not certain we're supposed to take this as a finality, but the gist I walk away with is this: Christ came here to serve. That was part of God's ultimate sacrifice. That He lived a fully man/fully God existence without sinning is the only reason He was a sufficient offering to hold back God's wrath. It also required Him to lower Himself to the extent that He did. It also means, pay attention again, that even He didn't know how God raised Him. (Doesn't that explain how He doesn't know the hour of His return?)

But! (Again, this is crucial.) Christ may not have known how God raises people from the dead, but He knew to the very core of His being that God would absolutely, without fail, raise those who believe in Him. To grasp equality with God is to understand all these things. In human form, it wasn't even one of His pursuits. Instead, He lived solely to bring people to God through faith in Him, as He knew He would be raised on the third day. It required Him to humble Himself, a perfect being, before the rest of us, filthy sinners. Paul knew this. He didn't obsess over discovering these hidden truths. Instead, he strove to serve the Lord in accordance with His will, being satisfied that this service was worth more than omniscience itself. Christ knew many things, and He shared so much of it. But, if it's not overreaching, let's use a little bit of deduction here: if Christ had known how to raise people from the dead, if it wasn't just "somehow," wouldn't He have done it?

But you might argue that He raised Lazarus. It would be more consistent with His teaching, however, to note that He did so by God's Name, i.e. the power God placed in Him to do it. Christ was the one in whom God was "well pleased." At no point did He consider Himself equal to God, just as Paul so adeptly notes. Paul also says in other verses that we die with Christ and are raised with Him. We share in His suffering and His inheritance. That we are heirs along with Him. Whether we acknowledge it or not, our spirits yearn and pine for Christ because they knew, unlike our conscious minds, that they were created to be with Him.

Here's the rub, people. Salvation is available to everyone. We all approach God with different issues and baggage and identities and ways of perceiving the world. Heck, my interpretation of the above passages could be way off. But here's what I know: no matter how good you are, your best is never enough. But if you are capable of doing good, do it! Sin only drives a wedge between you and the Lord. God has so many blessings to hand down to those who would simply accept them and live in obedience. Even though our best isn't good enough, it would still bring us closer to God. And that, my brothers and sisters, is the only way to improve on our best efforts. We can never reach the summit, but woe to those who aren't found in faith when the Lord returns. As the prophets have said, He's going to return like a thief in the night.

Philippians 3:15-16
All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. 16Only let us live up to what we have already attained.

Perhaps what I'm saying has no meaning anymore. Perhaps it was meant to be taken in the context of Christ's life on earth. In other words, now that He's been raised, and now that everything has been placed under His feet, maybe the wording needs to change. Maybe He prayed to God down here and prays to God no more. Maybe this is one of those questions I alluded to above, i.e. we can never know. I'm willing to note all these possibilities. But I do know Christ intercedes for us. I know He speaks to God--what else is prayer but time in God's presence? The thing is, He seemed pretty blunt when He explained the pecking order: God above all. God, in turn, had His say: everything but God goes beneath the Christ.

Whether or not God makes it clear to me, I know I want to serve Him. If only my heart could convince my mind that the rest will sort itself out.

The Holy Spirit and Me

2008-03-23T20:34:00.003-03:00

Faith is personal. No doubt, my attempts to describe my faith are as unsuccessful as when parents try to articulate the experience of their first child's birth. It's an honest process, but certainly not an adequate one. I don't want to suggest that it's futile to express ourselves with words, but it's certainly imperfect. At best, we can appeal to the empathy of others; words are capable of that much.

Having said all this, I would be remiss if I didn't post about this morning's Easter service. I can't do it justice, but I can try. It was transcendent, transforming, enlightening, surreal--I could go on. It happened in stark contrast of my recent sentiment. That, too, bears mention.

My faith started as an intellectual journey. Since I was a child, I've felt a spirit inside me. I didn't like to indulge it because I was afraid of it. Being afraid makes it no less real, but acknowledging and submitting to it can be a process that requires one to forfeit all previous expectations. It can require a person to feel his way through the world, ignoring what logic suggests. To quote the Stills song "Gender Bombs": "Logic will break your heart." It broke mine many times. After reading the Bible in its entirety, as well as a few books on science and historical validity, I've concluded that it was the true Word of God. I will swear by this. Let me be forever accountable to that truth. But the decision to accept Jesus Christ as one's personal saviour, while it is very liberating, is only the beginning of a very challenging--though rewarding--journey.

What's the challenge, you're wondering, if God is supposed to grant comfort? It's this: because we live in a broken world, a world that not only hates but crucified our Lord, the world also hates those who trust in the Lord. The world looks upon believers with disdain. Consider these verses:

1 Corinthians 3:18-20
Do not deceive yourselves. If any one of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a "fool" so that he may become wise. 19For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight. As it is written: "He catches the wise in their craftiness"; 20and again, "The Lord knows that the thoughts of the wise are futile."

1 Corinthians 1:20-21
Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 21For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe.

There are countless people who think that their 21st Century observations serve as a witness to the nature of Creation, history, nature, etc. These people look upon believers as fools. If you know anything about human nature, we tend to treat people in accordance with the way we view them. Jeremiah, with whom I greatly sympathize, often lamented about the burden one endures for the sake of carrying out God's work: Jeremiah 20:7-18.

I've been feeling like this lately. I knew in my heart that God is the only true purpose, but I grew weary of the internal conflict it stirred. It's tremendously hard to see with the heart instead of the eyes, to rationalize with the conscience instead of the mind, to be a willing servant instead of a selfish creature. In all cases, we must suppress the very nature that compels us, the very flesh in which we feel so grounded and "normal." For the first several months, my Christian experience was very, very isolated. Lately I've been privy to Bible study groups and a few ministries, but for a long time the picture of me as a believer looked much like I did before accepting Christ: me in a claustrophobic room, deliberately shut in with an idle mind and idle hands and a lot of dangerous thoughts. As if to compound the problem, there I was studying theology and Biblical questions, debating for myself issues like dualism and morality. Oftentimes, my prayers were the only advice I had to bank on. And I was so young in my journey that my inclination was to lean on my old ways of thinking, but whenever I did I felt like a rope in a spiritual tug-of-war. On several occasions, I asked God to rid me of these pursuits, to give me a different cross to bear that wasn't so mental and analytical and... dangerous. But, like Jeremiah, I felt as if my very being was going to explode whenever I denied the Lord. And so, with a heavy heart and chin, I persevered. This morning was different.

I could attempt to paraphrase Pastor Jim's message. I could try to recreate conversations I had this morning. I could speak of how I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to partake in a pre-[formal] church service at Frost Park some two hours later. I could speak of all the friendly faces, my church family, whose cheeks were red from the cold and whose eyes had an icy glaze from the unforgiving gusts that pierced us through our jackets as we stood and sang to the Lord under a rising sun. It took about one minute in that setting to look like we'd slept on the sidewalks, but our hearts were warm. And I meant it. To the best of my knowledge, I was sincere. Still a little trapped in my mind, but I sang honestly in between stutters and shivers.

At Sunday school, I was feeling like Jeremiah again. I had determined not to speak, because my mental skeletons had me convinced that all I could do was lament. That the spiritual warfare around me wasn't the cause of all my internal strife, that I was a filthy, unworthy creatured. None of us are acceptable to God; we are all sinners. But He accepts us all because of Christ's sacrifice. Christ is the one who forgives us and speaks to God on our behalf. And I felt like I wasn't receiving this. And this morning, as Jim was preaching, I was contemplating, as I often do, the extent of Christ's sacrifice--to the capacity that I can comprehend it. And God reached out to me.

It was like God said to me, "James, I can't change the nature of this world until the appointed time. I can't keep you from sinning, no matter how much you beg me. I am a perfect and holy Judge, and there are many things about you that are unclean before me. But know this: you are mine, for now and forever. Your suffering is my suffering. Your pains of separation from me, they pain me also. But I will finish the work I began in you, and I will keep you. We WILL be together again, as close as we were when you lived in my consciousness--long before you were ever born to this earth. As surely as Christ died, you will die. And as surely as I raised Him from the dead, you will be raised with Him."

You just had to be there. I could have sworn the room was going to burst. It was as if the air was sponge thick, like I could have rested my Bible on an invisible pillow in middair, and it would have floated. And my body... wow. I felt as if I was constantly at the brink of exploding. I felt God fill my spirit with His presence, and I've never cried so openly for so long in the presence of so many people. It was the most cleansing experience of my life. It was as if all my mental beliefs finally opened the floodgates of my heart. And so, my brother and sisters, I say this: Easter is not just Easter because Jesus Christ was raised from the dead. It's true that He is the ONLY sure way to eternal life, but there is something I fear many Christians never experience. The miracle of Easter is not just Christ's victory. Perhaps the Godhead are the only warriors who drew their swords and claimed the prize of life; perhaps God is the only one capable of vanquishing sin and conquering death, but DO NOT IGNORE this important part of the mystery: on that day some 2000 years ago when they accomplished this, all believers of all generations were simultaneously raised along with them. I'm not saying we should be arrogant or claim any glory in this, but I pity the one who is alive in Christ and doesn't have a soul that remembers that precise moment. This is the trick to it: your mind has absolutely nothing to base this on; it's either an intrinsic part of your spirit, or you'd best start praying for a real, genuine conversion. I kind of wonder if I had one before today, but I'll never question this point again. Ever.

Glory to God for ever. Amen.

Biblical Milestone #2

2008-03-10T21:04:00.002-03:00

Monday, 10 March 2008, approx. 9:00 p.m.: Finished the New Testament.

No words to describe the fear in me.

Don't Just Believe; Be Life

2008-03-08T22:41:00.006-04:00

You who are chosen by God, who, like me, have a share in Christ's suffering and inheritance, be strong. After months of study and reflection, torment and questioning, I have found in the book of Hebrews what I firmly believe is the meaning of this existence. I have often thought to myself, as I struggled to live the good life, why it was that God created the world as it is. It made no sense to me that an omnipotent Creator, one who knows all things, would subject us to the existence that perplexes and trips us. It disturbed me to think that I was anchored in flesh to float by spirit, because that is not how this world is swayed. This world, as you know, is tremendously compelling. The mistake we often make as humans does not stem from our creation, nor is it based in the limits of flesh, but it is one of sympathy and relativity. All men and women are brothers, but not all are called by God, even though God calls out to all men:

Romans 9:22-24
What if God, choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath—prepared for destruction? 23What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy, whom he prepared in advance for glory— 24even us, whom he also called, not only from the Jews but also from the Gentiles?

When I first read those passages, I accepted them. I've gotten quite accepting of the Scriptures and what they tell us about God. I've thought many times, when seeing news clips about murderers, terrorists, and rapists that these could not possibly be human, that some humans were born monsters. I was glad to learn it was true. That our justice system was so permissive of some crimes, that instead of imprisonment, brutal criminals were granted rights that should only belong to the life-respecting, disturbed me. It was as if there was no order in the universe, as if our sympathy was our foil. And yet, we were told to forgive, very simply to forgive and invite all injury that our enemy would inflict:

Matthew 5:38-42
"You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' 39But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. 40And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. 41If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. 42Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

But here's the kicker, and it was lost on me: God's hand touches all of this. Those who accept Christ, as it has been said, accept his suffering along with his resurrection. As soon as we take our eyes off the Lord, as soon as we start thinking in terms of human preservation and the meaning of this life, we forfeit our souls to the same world that will turn to dust on the Day of the Lord. For God has known that we would be persecuted by evil, that we would look upon those who wouldn't make it, and that our hearts would go out to them.

Hebrews 11:39-40
[Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham ... David, Samuel and the prophets**] were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. 40God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

** etc.

Hebrews 11:13-16
All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. 14People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. 15If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. 16Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

This world was not made broken for the living to live in brokenness but for the dead to know the living. Even though God knew that some would reject Him, He nevertheless gave them an opportunity to know Him and His saints. He gave His people the law that they might ritualistically declare their love, and He gave the whole world His Son that sin might be conquered--and that those who believe might be redeemed before Him. And, yes, He presented his lambs before all the condemned, that they might serve as a temple for God so He could appeal to the lost.

Consequently, those who accept Christ as their personal saviour forfeit the identities by which they formerly called and knew themselves; we exchange those, by faith, for better selves. Yet how many of us keep on living as we did before we knew God's mercy? How many of us have withheld trust until we were blessed or enlightened, when it's God's right to test us?

Today I have made a decision. I have faltered too much over the past five months to risk my salvation anymore. I have had moments of anger and frustration and have directed them toward God in scornful rage, and I've indulged my baser instincts. It may even be too late for me because of this, as I was only ransomed once:

Hebrews 10:26-36
If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, 27but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. 28Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. 29How much more severely do you think a man deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God under foot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified him, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace? 30For we know him who said, "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,"and again, "The Lord will judge his people." 31It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

32Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you stood your ground in a great contest in the face of suffering. 33Sometimes you were publicly exposed to insult and persecution; at other times you stood side by side with those who were so treated. 34You sympathized with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions.

35So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. 36You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.

Therefore, as someone who once sought to relieve himself of atonement or accountability, as someone who once tried to refute the Word of God, my life's purpose is clear: to spread the good news that eludes or strikes fear into so many of us. I can't say I know precisely what path my life will take--"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps"--but it must lend itself to ministry. Whether it be in writing, preaching, teaching, it matters little to me. But to what else might one dedicate himself and say in the end that he accomplished something? Is it mere coincidence that no occupation has never satisfied me beyond a paycheque? If I am to be not of this world but living in it, then I pray for (and trust I will receive) the courage to serve as one of God's beacons. This world is not for us, brothers and sisters, but it exists so that God may reach out His hand to those who might yet be saved. For now, God is pouring a foundation inside me. When I know what comes next, I will share it with you. But let it be bold and faithful. And let it serve to glorify the Almighty. If I haven't been lost in my feet shuffling and stubbornness and deliberation, then let me start living for everyone but myself.

This All Sounded Better in my Head

2008-03-02T12:25:00.002-04:00

I have come to regard sins as leeches. In the past, it seemed to me that sin was its own domain. Perhaps it was sentient, or perhaps it was merely a manifestation of disobedience. But as we all tend to be selfish and view things through our own goggles, I would argue that sin has an agenda: to suck life. We say that sin's net effect puts distance between God and ourselves, and this is certainly true, but what we often fail to understand is that with increased distance it becomes easier to add more. Lately I've been telling choice others that God is working to break my spirit. That might seem to some as the exact wrong way to express the way I'm striving to be holy as the spirit in me compels me more as time passes, but this is ultimately what must happen: God and the Holy Spirit was chisel away at all the garbage that has latched onto me, from my sub-subconscious to my habits and my speech, and in essence break me down to nothing but what was there when God created me. And even if you strip away a cancerous tumour from a vital organ, who's to say that what's left of the natural tissue won't be in dire need of repair? This is precisely what is happening to me. In the process, I've had to endure, for my own benefit, some very harsh lessons and some very painful decisions. If you know me, you know how stubborn I can be. I believe in my mind that God governs everything in creation, that Creation is God's breath condensed into matter, but that I will ultimately be judged by my character, by what my heart feels, not what my intellect recognizes as truth.

Over the last several weeks, I've gained some lost momentum re: my Biblical studies. If I had maintained the same efficiency I had in November, I'd have surely finished the Bible in January. It would likely have been, though, that I would have glossed over some of the important lessons I've picked up in the last several days. Some were tough pills, and perhaps I shouldn't be so quick to air my own struggles. But if there be any virtue in sharing-- if the truth, as it's been said, will set me free, then permit to share some of it today.

1. Whether you love or hate God, whether you serve or curse Him, reality is not what you make it or wish it to be. There are truths that transcend and govern everything that many of us have come to regard as sacred.

I gotta say, I've been a little shocked by some of the people who've approached me about these posts. Honestly, I would think some of you wouldn't give an ounce of time to my theological musings and Biblical studies. Some of you have simply approached me to ask, "Do you really believe everything in the Bible?" Others have dropped the gloves and sparked some pretty decent debates. But here's a truth that some of us, and myself on many days, struggle with:

To those who don't believe in God: There probably isn't any Biblical verse I could offer you that would change your mind. In the past, I've tried to read the Word with an explicit agenda in mind: to disprove it for myself. But there is one question you ought to satisfy for yourself: Do you avoid or disregard spiritual matters because you fear the accountability of acknowledging them, or have you considered and studied the universe and have ultimately concluded that faith is unfounded. See, some of you are fearful, and some are lazy and ignorant. I've said many times that I have more respect for the educated and considerate athiest than I do for the lazy Christian. The athiest who has made a conscious effort to understand the more profound things concerning existence has decided that his or her own viewpoints are limited to his or her experience. Just as we all function. The one whose stance is grounded in study and consideration has a right to make conclusions. The one who fears what conclusion may result, however, gets a lot of empathy from me, because it's a rational acknowledgment (not a premature conclusion), that if something greater exists, said person might not be ready to live for it. But to determine, with no foundation, that nothing greater exists, is sheer foolishness and an affection for ignorance.

To those who believe in God but don't follow Him: How many of us approach God with the hope that He will conform to us? These people might mutter words such as these: "I can't accept that God is..." or "God would never..." or "There's no such place as hell." God, whom you claim to believe, says this:

Isaiah 29:16
Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, "He did not make me"? Can the pot say of the potter, "He knows nothing"?

In other words, when you create a universe, you are free to set all stipulations, limits, laws, etc. But being born into a universe, you do not have the luxury of choosing, based on your limited knowledge and/or opinion, what the truth is. This is what frustrates me about the lazy Christians out there; they have been made acquainted with God, and instead of striving to understand God, they think that they can combine an acknowledgment of His authority with the freedom to choose which precepts and commands to accept. This is a much greater selfishness than the hedonistic person who doesn't know God.

But, even though I strive to align my will with God's and to serve Him in obedience, there are many things that I just don't understand and may never come to accept. Some of the following questions really shouldn't cross the desks of weak or non-believers, but it's just a chance I'm going to take here in posting them. Let it be known that these questions, some of which come directly from people I've spoken with, have answers.

2. What about those who never come to know God? (Let me take that one a step further, if I may: What about those who know God and were denied a chance to obey?)

This hearkens back to one of my earliest questions when I started reading the Pentateuch. It was kind of surreal for me to read about the Flood and how the entire population of the world, save Noah and his family, was destroyed. And yet I understood. I could rationalize for myself that God would want to eradicate everything that stood in direct opposition to Him. I would like to make it clear that I wouldn't personally operate that way, but I can't claim in my limited capacity that I can see all the benefits or pitfalls of destroying a world, just that I acknowledge that if God is a holy God that He would strive for holiness. But why, then, did God deny acts of mercy, was my question. Consider this:

Exodus 4:21
The LORD said to Moses, "When you return to Egypt, see that you perform before Pharaoh all the wonders I have given you the power to do. But I will harden his heart so that he will not let the people go.

Translation: even if Pharaoh wants to free the Jews from bondage, I will not let him. Later on: even if Nebuchadnezzar doesn't want to invade Israel and destroy her people, I will steer him. Even if the Pharisees and teachers of the law (and, subsequently, the people) don't want to crucify My only begotten Son, they will!

God love ya, Paul, you answered my question:

Romans 9 (if you care to know the answer, you can muster a mouse click.)

I know for many that this will be a tough pill, and one that "refutes" God's existence-- or at least His mercy. But consider this: could it not be said that Pharaoh, in imprisoning the Hebrews, was actually serving God's will with greater faith than many of God's chosen people. Who are we to assume that because they were led into the slaughter that they haven't been judged as faithful servants? We simply can't know, and it is fruitless to ask. But if you are a believer and find yourself struggling with the harshness of this, place your faith in God and pray about it. I won't make predictions, but if God hardened the hearts of Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar, to name just a few, in order that they might serve as instruments of His will, I would certainly not be surprised to see them in the Kingdom some day. I'm just saying I wouldn't be surprised, not that it will happen.

But here's one of the places where I've received something of an attitude adjustment. I once thought of conviction as being a virtue unto itself. Some of my favourite singers and writers share none of my beliefs, but I always thought that there was something special in the gusto with which they expressed their non-conformity. It's getting to the point, however, where I am starting to think that love and forgiveness are greater than intellect and the pursuit of knowledge. I'm fast approaching that stance, and it's effectively made me a rope in a tug-of-war. Both a spiritual and intellectual one.

But here's what I've come to realize: in every single choice we make, we reflect ourselves. I used to think that being an introverted person that I was hidden and guarded from some of the harsher things in life. I used to think that by sharing nothing of myself that I prevented vulnerabilities from seeping into my existence. Sure, I was miserable, but there was an unspeakable safety in that misery. I made champions of philosophy and deep thinking, making no effort to grow closer to living, breathing people. But I was bitter and sour. A lot. So I urge you all, instead of stewing in bitterness and questioning, seek! If you don't start with the Bible, start somewhere. As for me, I have come to recognize and scoff at my poor behaviour, at the leeches that try to govern me. Paul says in Romans that those of us who believe may always struggle with sinful desires, i.e. the flesh. But here's what we know of the flesh: it will die, and our souls live on. Every knee will bend before God at the resurrection, when all will be judged in accordance with how they lived. And for those of you who have leeches, take heed that unless you invite the Spirit to dwell inside you, the emptiness you feel may never be cleansed:

Mark 9:50
"Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other."

Frustrating NIV Edits

2008-02-23T22:03:00.003-04:00

Far be it for me to speak out against a God-inspired translation, but there are a few phrases in John 8 that have been inserted for clarity, and I truly believe they do nothing but dilute the text.

For your consideration, here they are:

John 8:23
"You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. 24I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am [the one I claim to be], you will indeed die in your sins."

John 8:27-9
They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. 28So Jesus said, "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am [the one I claim to be] and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. 29The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him."

Now, I am personally very encouraged by the consistency in God's voice that would be there were it not for these "literary aids"-- though I'd much prefer to call them miscreant edits. Since God is a triune God, and Christ is a part of the Trinity, it makes utter sense that we should recognize Him as He later indicates, and as God once called Himself:

John 8:58
Jesus answered, "before Abraham was born, I am!"

Exodus 3:14
God said to Moses, "I am who I am . This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.' "

Come on, people! Get with the program, already!! I mean, "'claim' to be"? How about "declared I am", if you want to show some respect. Vexing; genuinely vexing.

Light vs Darkness

2008-02-20T16:29:00.005-04:00

John 1:1-5
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was with God in the beginning.

3Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4In him was life, and that life was the light of men. 5The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

In the absence of darkness is more darkness. In the presence of light, there can be no darkness. Place your faith accordingly.

But I must grant this: you who believe there can be a universe without an origin are stronger in faith than I, for you have seen the Father's works and said existence is nothing. Your faith in nothing requires you to believe in a blindness you have not. My mind is too overwrought in trying to understand the LORD, that I may never come to know Him to the extent you reject Him. But let me place my lesser faith in an unbreakable outcome, and may God sort the details.

For the Reader's Benefit

2008-02-18T12:40:00.002-04:00

Courtesy of Pastor AJ: http://cf.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?Strongs=G2264&Version=kjv

Thanks also to Devan for transcribing and emailing similar notes from his Bible.

This clears up all my concerns about the conflict re: Joseph and family's time in Egypt and when they returned to Israel. Also, it explains how a man named Herod was around to execute John the Baptist.

Round, Round, Get Around... AKA Huh?

2008-02-15T19:13:00.005-04:00

Several weeks ago, when I informed Matt that I had finished the Old Testament, he warned me to keep an open mind in reading the first four books of the New Testament. Let's just say that, as one of my closest friends, he's quite familiar with how critical my mind can be.

I remember a similar conversation I had with him that dates back several years. During that exchange, he argued that it was remarkable how similar are the books of Matthew through John, considering they were written by men who didn't know one another. He thought this was undeniable proof of God's authority. Conversely, at the time, I thought it was a clever ruse. I mean, what would stop me from reading Oliver Twist, writing a similar account of it, and then claiming it appeared in my head as if from a divine authority?

Of course, time has a way of softening one's heart, and such is the case with me. After reading every line of the Old Testament--and believing it all--I effectively adopted Matt's stance on Matthew through John. As Matt and I drove up Pleasant Street that day, he compared these books to witnesses of a car accident. Four different people, with a unique perspective, might offer accounts such as these:

Person A: "I saw the red car swerve into the blue car's lane, and then they collided with the guard rail."

Person B: "The blue car was speeding, but the red one was in the wrong."

Person C: "The reason the red car swerved into oncoming traffic was because the driver tried to avoid hitting a child that wandered into his lane."

Person D: "The guy in the red car was talking on his cell phone and should have pulled over to finish his conversation. The guy in the blue is innocent."

No real conflict in there, and I didn't detect one until I read the following (questionable bits in bold):

Luke 2:39-41
39When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. 40And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him. 41Every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover.

Matthew 2:11-14
11On coming to the house, [the Magi] saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh. 12And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route. 13When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. "Get up," he said, "take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him." 14So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, 15where he stayed until the death of Herod. And so was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet: "Out of Egypt I called my son."

Now, I'm not going to jump to conclusions here, but there are a few things I would like to get out of the way. First, in comparing the opening chapters of Matthew through Luke, it becomes apparent that, contrary to countless Christmas specials, Mary and Joseph were not visited by the shepherds and "wise men" at the same time. This is fine by me. My Study Bible takes this one step further and suggests that the men who brought gifts likely weren't kings, which doesn't break the bank.

I have no trouble accepting the fact that this is the proper sequence: Jesus born; shepherds come; shepherds spread joy throughout Galilee; Magi come to Herod; Magi inform Herod of Jesus's birth; Magi visit Mary and Joseph; Magi not return to Herod, contrary to his request to them; Joseph and family flee to Egypt.

I guess the problem lies in the fact that I don't believe they went to Jerusalem until Herod was dead, and my Study Bible offers no insight into how long that might have taken. In accordance with the Scriptures, it would have certainly been at least two years after Jesus was born, as Herod ordered all regional firstborn males aged two or less to be slain. Therefore, the Scripture seems to suggest that Jesus was in two places at once, as was His family. This part is hard for me to swallow, and instead of pointing an accusatory finger at God, I would simply invite Him to use anyone who might read this to offer up some thoughts. While it's certainly possible that I'm reading too much into this, I'll acknowledge the possibility that something has been mistranslated, but I wouldn't think that God would have written a detail like this in such an ambiguous way. In other words, if the red and blue car were never at the same place at the same time, logic would insist they weren't involved in the same collision.

Pet Peeve Relieved AKA Geekiest Post Ever

2008-02-14T18:46:00.003-04:00

Mark 14:43
43Just as he was speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, appeared. With him was a crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders.

Finally, an Oxford comma. :)

Boredom is the Ultimate Blindness

2008-02-13T22:43:00.002-04:00

Tonight our small group met at the church and watched a sermon that discussed, among other passages, the following:

John 8:43-47
43Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say. 44You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father's desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. 45Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me! 46Can any of you prove me guilty of sin? If I am telling the truth, why don't you believe me? 47He who belongs to God hears what God says. The reason you do not hear is that you do not belong to God."

Maybe I have the wrong attitude right now, but the writer in me just won't allow me to borrow too much of that preacher's ideas. His name eludes me, but I don't remember it being said in during the video, so perhaps I couldn't know it. Anyway, to paraphrase quickly, the preacher spoke about Satan's methods of deception and how he offered the world to Christ as a means of tempting him. It was interesting to note that Christ never denied Satan's high, if not supreme, authority over this world and the flesh (John 14:30). I guess the gist of the whole sermon was the fact that spiritual warfare is happening all around us, which is something most of us would love to deny.

Hold on, then. Isn't that a contrediction in and of itself? Good and evil duke it out in our midst, not just adjacent to our loved ones and ourselves, but within our very minds, and not only do we have the audacity to cower from considering it, but we have the audacity to indulge the depressing feelings that permeate our beings and embrace defeatist stances such as boredom or indifference. If I know anything about Satan, I would have to deduce that he considers this kind of thing as a freebie. Think about it: Satan exists to lie and to deceive, but how often do we find ourselves looking at our surroundings and concluding that they are so insignificant that they don't even merit a second glance? How is it that we've come to examine things with such a blasé attitude?

Recently I watched an episode of Family Guy, which can be very hit or miss with me, but there was an interesting little joke where one of the characters acknowledged God for what I think was a pretty random thing. I don't believe in coincidence, but it really wasn't something that would send most of us into a concentrated worship session. The camera then shifted to Heaven, and God looked down in disdain and said something to the effect of, "What? You're impressed by that? Do you have any idea how complex your circulatory system is!?" Ironically, it's kind of a good point, but it's a little off centre.

Here's the deal, people. I don't want to bore or blind you with science, but there is nothing in the physical realm that doesn't bear God's fingerprint. Since I read Lee Strobel, I've come to realize just how impossible it would be for this world to spawn from any random occurrence, but that doesn't change the fact that we don't need an in-depth study of biology or geology to see just how complex the familiar is. Today, I was reminded of this as I drove home through some of the weirdest weather I've seen in some time. It was raining buckets as a strange vapour hung in the air, shifting back and forth like wandering spirits. It's hard for me to think it was normal fog; I suspect the ground is still quite frozen, and the mild air was probably hitting it with enough disparity to condense the rainwater into a waist high mist that's been rolling through the area all night. But what do I know? What I did see was a very magical, almost movie-like ambience on my way home.

What's my point? I've seen stuff like this so much that I'd completely ignore it on most nights. I think Satan thrives on this stuff. He loves it when we get so comfortable with our surroundings and locked into our routines that we start to view the world as the most unimpressive, dead playing field in existence. The last thing he wants is for us to even think, just for a second, that there's an invisible war surrounding us. By acknowledging that, we acknowledge good and evil. By acknowledging good, our mind shifts to God. That's why he wants you to think that trees are nothing more than wood and leaves--not some finely tuned creation that works in harmony with everything else God formed with His very hands. To look upon anything in boredom is to lay down one's guard. Satan only needs us to blink to distort the images in front of us. Most of us aren't discerning enough to detect the changes that take place during that split second when our eyelids meet. We're all guilty of it, but it's twice as dangerous when we start to think Satan's vision is a true reflection of this world: that hunger emerges from poor politics, not neglect; that hatred is justified, not damning; that this world is empty, not bursting.

Like I said, I'm guilty of this, too. But let's be clear on one thing: no one is bored because there's nothing interesting around. Boredom comes from giving up, not giving in.

Observations Part 1

2008-02-11T21:14:00.000-04:00

1. Some of us [feel we] need to be touched. (Matthew 8:1-4)

2. Some of us [feel we] need to be close. (Mark 5:25-34)

3. Some of us [feel we] need to be told. (Mark 5:41)

4. Some of us [feel we] are too possessed with grief to ask. (Mark 5:8)

5. All of us need to believe. (Matthew 8:5-13)

a) The latter is yet available to us all, and it's the reason the former four were healed.
b) If we haven't the option of standing before Christ, we must live among those who are His temple: His saints.
c) We might not see His face until He returns, but His radiance will never fade as long as one believer remains. Seek the Lord, and He will not hide from you.

How Poetic Thou Art, My LORD

2008-02-11T20:43:00.000-04:00

If it's possible, I've been each of the former three--and a weak part of the latter--since October:

Mark 4:13-20
Then Jesus said to them, "Don't you understand this parable? How then will you understand any parable? 14The farmer sows the word. 15Some people are like seed along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and takes away the word that was sown in them. 16Others, like seed sown on rocky places, hear the word and at once receive it with joy. 17But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 18Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word; 19but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful. 20Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop—thirty, sixty or even a hundred times what was sown."

Perhaps I'm assuming too much, but I dare suggest that God offered more than one account of Jesus's life because it's too profound to study through one disciple's perspective. Of course, as it's been said, all His teachings could fill the world if they'd all been committed to paper. Nevertheless, let me say here openly that I am listening for your counsel, God. Tell me what you need me to hear, and keep me faithful in it.

Work and Rest

2008-02-06T23:49:00.000-04:00

Haven't been reading much lately. It's wearing on me. Work has been hectic and I've come home so mentally shattered that I've hardly read any Scripture this month. Not surprisingly, I find myself awfully vulnerable to negative thinking and depression. To be fair, I haven't scheduled enough time with God, and I haven't sought His guidance in the moments I most should have--well, it should be the norm, not the exception. Call it what you will--unintentional self-experimentation, propaganda, hooey--but I'm starting to think that, even though it seems like it would drain me, taking evenings off from diving into theology and the gospel is harder than actually exercising the battered grey matter. Of course, work has filtered into my spare time over the last several days. In moments of fellowship and worship, I feel energized and vital. But once everyone disperses, I can clearly feel my enthusiasm taper off and dip. For now, I'd like to draw two tentative conclusions about the above:

1. If my happiness and attitude improve with faithfulness and commitment to God, it seems fair to offer this as perspective evidence that He's very much alive and real. While I believe it in my mind, sometimes I'm lacking in heartfelt conviction. Virtually all the signs and nuances through which He reveals Himself suggest I should let go of whatever earthly things I'm still clinging to, and on that note I pray that He'll enlighten me as to what they are. Confusion should not be treated as abandonment but a reason to grow closer to Him.

2. Now that I see all this, it is perfectly within my power to mend it all and recapture the joy I got from investing more of myself into God's care. I'm exhausted from running mental circles. It's time to move forward again.

Point Form Rebuttal (For now)

2008-01-30T00:57:00.000-04:00

- It seems righteous for God to cleanse our memories, but I don't understand how we can better serve Him by not knowing how we came to.

- Christ told His disciples that the least on Earth (presumably the one who kept the least of himself) would be the greatest in heaven.

- Obviously, Christ was the one to give the most of Himself, giving up His entire self on our behalf. I think it fair to assume that the He who overcame sin, surviving three days in hell, will bear none of the person who entered it so that we might not be inherently condemned to it. This new, reborn version of the LORD Himself is the one we'll meet when we stand to be judged. As humans, even our sense of victory is limited. Christ not only defeated sin, He did so in such a pure, superlative manner that it's as if He never touched the stuff. This, if nothing else, I believe.

- I think I understand more than I'm acknowledging but have been indoctrinated with a concept of identity that is trying to preclude me from finding true salvation. This may be part of the journey and not a reason to abandon it.

My Final Post?

2008-01-29T23:30:00.000-04:00

Not to sound cocky, but I think I've stumbled upon the ultimate Christian test. After reading behemoths like Isaiah, I guess I assumed I'd tear through the New Testament. In truth I'm crawling, but it's humbled me in transcendent ways I couldn't begin to describe. Reading the sermon on the mount, I was darn near overcome with tears-- I've never read such a loving encapsulation of how selflessly and purely this world should function. Like all Scripture, it interconnects intuitively: the only way to be one with Christ is to love one's brother and neighbour, to never deny anyone, and how else could His suggestion to "let tomorrow worry about itself" ever bear fruit? The con: it would work perfectly if the whole world embraced it. The pro: it would work perfectly if the whole world embraced it. Let us never assume that this world needs to be the greed-centric cesspool it is. That's what humanity collectively chose for itself. I digress.

"So what's his freaking point?" you're wondering. All the laws and rituals and covenants are about as meaningless as your fingerprint. I finally understand what Solomon was talking about in Ecclesiastes when he dwelled so much on that term: meaningless. The fact is, by living a flawless and perfect life, you become what Christ describes equally as the greatest and the least. Least in that you have nothing: not your possessions, not your will, not your memories, not even your identity. Greatest in that you have everything: Oneness with Him. Ironically, I'm not sure I've ever met someone mature and faithful enough to truly take up the cup. Here it is, 824 pages into my Bible, the first verse I can't accept:

Matthew 22:30
At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven.

Like angels in heaven. What do we know about angels in heaven? Well, firstly, they rendered it imperfect. God, in his divine foresight, could have prevented all forms of anguish and pain had He simply chosen to do one thing differently: not create Satan. Of all the things God chose to permit, that's the one that set the little clump of snow rolling down the hill to eventually become a cataclysmic ball of destruction. We'd like to think that God, in His holiness, didn't invent evil. Perhaps He didn't. Then again, I didn't create dynamite, but I were created with a mind bent on destroying things, and subsequently handed a stick of the stuff, who truly sets it off? So let's be fair: whether we want to credit the LORD with evil's creation or not (moot point, in many ways), we must acknowledge one great truth: without it, there would be no means of testing faith. Christ said as much:

Matthew 18:7
"Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin! Such things must come, but woe to the man through whom they come!"

Not evil has come. Evil must come.

And so, as we finally coast into my point (it wouldn't be a me post, were it not verbose), what must you surrender to be spared damnation? Absolutely everything. And, please, don't think in terms of the physical world. Instead, think of your most precious memories, the people with whom you've shared everything this world has tricked you into falsely justifying with emotion. Virtually everything you hold dear, from the tangible to the esoteric, your principles, your personality, the silly notion that you might meet loved ones in heaven, surrender it all. Once you do, you become nothing in yourself and everything in Christ.

Matthew 22:23-32
23That same day the Sadducees, who say there is no resurrection, came to him with a question. 24"Teacher," they said, "Moses told us that if a man dies without having children, his brother must marry the widow and have children for him. 25Now there were seven brothers among us. The first one married and died, and since he had no children, he left his wife to his brother. 26The same thing happened to the second and third brother, right on down to the seventh. 27Finally, the woman died. 28Now then, at the resurrection, whose wife will she be of the seven, since all of them were married to her?"

29Jesus replied, "You are in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God. 30At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven. 31But about the resurrection of the dead—have you not read what God said to you, 32'I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob'? He is not the God of the dead but of the living."

Bear with me now: the reason we don't feel the loss of those we don't get saved, is because even our very identities die on the cross. The reason our lives are meaningless, as Solomon wrote, is because we answer to this ultimatum: keep yourself and let it suffer eternal anguish, or forget yourself and live in Christ. But how many of us hold dearly to the selves through which our eyes gaze? How many of us want heaven to be a meeting place for the individualities we create on Earth, a place for us to convene with fellow believers and worship and serve God forever? To me, if I am to be replaced with an angelic being, I question this whole notion of self. I question whether heaven and hell are just slants, not opposities. New lenses through which an unknown me might have the privilege of existing forever. We think about damnation as punishment, but it seems to me that what Christ tells us through Matthew that our ultimate fate is more a matter of station, not bliss or oppression.

In case you haven't realized it yet, this is absolutely the greatest hurdle I expect to encounter on my Christian journey. So much, in fact, that I feel it can't continue until someone picks me up and places me on the other side of this hurdle. Selfishly, when I first read the above passages, I was somewhat embittered about my self-instilled belief that our lives are better when shared with a soulmate. (Thanks, Disney!) I felt that, while I may experience joy in this world, that it could be tenfold, or more, if shared with a trusted confidante. Ever since I was five, I wanted someone like the heroes in those animated films had. It didn't have to be as glamourous, but it had to be as real. And when I first read Matthew 22:30, I felt robbed of that. But upon reflection, I feel robbed of my very identity. This in spite of the fact that I realized quite some time ago that Christ wasn't asking for me to clean up my lifestyle. No, God wants us to be living sacrifices to Him, not for us to sacrifice earthly things but to be sacrifices ourselves. And yet, in my selfishness, I chose to limit that to things I do or act or think. I often fail, but that's where I had drawn the line in the sand. Didn't realize I was the line.

So, tell me, if you dare, how does it sit with you? Maybe my interpretation of the above passages are completely bonkers, but it seems to me that I couldn't sit here and think of anyone in my life who I could cite as an example. I'm not meaning that to sound condescending; I'm a complete failure at what I've interpreted. Not enticed by hedonism, mind you, but pretty sour on the idea of salvation, at least for the time being. I don't mean to throw in the towel, but I fail to see the joy of serving God and worshipping Him forever if He needs to replace me with a perfect automaton-- though I should have clued in much sooner; all imperfect things in His holy presence are instantly vaporized. That is how it seems to work. Even the way He projects Himself via clouds and fire can destroy those who enter His holiest rooms without consecrating themselves. As to the promised land, all we can do is strive toward becoming nothing, and thus earn a place at His table. So, I think I understand how it works now. What I don't get is the point of it.

It's like I just told a friend: I'd be honoured to attend your birthday party, but, after it's all said and done, if I won't even know you existed or had a birthday, why bother? Can I give up vices and sins (or try to) to be with the LORD? Yes. Can I give up James? I don't know yet. Why should one even care about morality and laws and principles if they're just illusions to distract us from complete submission?

Anyway, I won't contribute another word to this blog until I render a decision there.

EDIT (and I'll make this the only one):
Says my friend: We do have to sacrifice everything to enter heaven, James.
Says I: But we don't get to. The one doing the sacrificing never knows heaven.

James Wood Proverbs

2008-01-13T23:53:00.001-04:00

I can't say whether these thoughts have been stashed away in my subconscious, whether my inner mind is merely resurfacing enlightenment I gathered long ago and subsequently turned my back upon, but I maintain to the best of my knowledge that I discovered all of these by myself:

1. Impatience is the ambition of the disobedient. Those who follow God's path carry the moment on their shoulders; those who embrace their doubt cave under the weight of a lifetime.

2. Feelings, like all things alive, will perish if you starve them. But he who denies his heart and not his stomach endures a torture as unrelenting as hunger.

3. Bother. Just because.

4. Time heals all but curiosity.

5. Feast in accordance with your hunger. On a given day, read four pages of the Bible for every one you dare not swallow.

Biblical Milestone #1

2008-01-12T23:19:00.001-04:00

Saturday, 12 January 2008, approx. 11:18 p.m., less than three months since I started reading the Bible: Finished the Old Testament.

I believe I'm on the homestretch. Praise goes to the LORD for keeping me focussed on the prize: Himself.

In closing, let's just post the most recent verse I saw fit to jot down in my notepad:

Zechariah 4:6
"This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel: 'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty.

Attitude is a Choice

2008-01-08T10:42:00.001-04:00

I first heard that expression when I was working at a call centre in Halifax. If I could hazard a guess, I suspect all such workplaces use it. It's not that I don't believe the adage that attitude is indeed a choice, but I'd almost make an exception for the courageous souls who'd rather tackle irate service calls than take the simpler approach to life, i.e. doing anything else under the heavens.

On days like this, I'm reminded that no matter how much I might struggle with this assignment or that, I'm in a much better place than I was just a few short years ago. It's funny how quickly time passes, how minuscule and negligible our existence really is. And yet, as fast as my life might crumble into the precipice of changing seasons, it feels like an eon ago that I lived for myself. I've only been a practicing Christian for less than three months, and it feels like I took the decision to commit myself to God in a former, distant life. I'll never be perfect, but I do make a sincere effort to overcome my limitations and live out the revelations and epiphanies I've had over the recent weeks. It's just a little surreal to see how many pages my bookmark has traversed through my Bible and how much the experience of reading it has humbled me.

Last night I finished the book of Daniel, and I couldn't begin to describe the feelings that swept over me as I was reading it. Ditto Isaiah and Ezekiel. There's something about reading prophecies, knowing when they were written and just how accurate they were, that thrusts me into a state of humility and fear-- the good kind, not the imaginary fear that so vehemently tries to govern my life. I'm not going to post interpretations yet; these books demand extensive study. I remember one passage in Isaiah where I felt a strange urge to Google some information on Topheth, a valley south of Jerusalem where those who strayed from God offered human sacrifices to empty idols--their own children, no less--and after I read that it had a two-pronged effect on me: 1) it completely changed the way I understood that verse, which I might have otherwise glossed over; 2) it reinforced just how important it is to read beyond the text. But this is just how much I've changed. Where I used to want to impose my own meanings into things, where I once had to complicate life and try to extract purpose and depth from the simplest pleasures, I now believe that life is something to discover, not to mold.

This morning I had an interview in Meteghan at 9:00 AM. When I woke up, it kind of irked me that I had scheduled it so early. Although my job bestows me with very flexible hours, I had a bout of insomnia throughout last week. In spite of the fact that my body was warding off influenza and its residual effects, it was taking me anywhere from three to five hours to fall asleep-- this during a time when my body was utterly zapped. One night I went to bed at 10:30 and didn't fall asleep until 4:00 (ish). My mind was racing. It's as if I was contemplating in advance all the points God was going to hurl at me through Pastor Jim on Sunday morning. And let me tell you, with the utmost sincerity and humility, I got absolutely lambasted this past weekend. I know that none of the pastors write their sermons intent on addressing any one person, that they pray over these things and let God do the talking, but it felt as if I was placed into the stocks, wheeled onto the stage, and was getting my whole life drawn in chalk on a blackboard. It was as if God seized me by throat and spelled out exactly what I had to do to find everything I was searching for. As much as I might have wanted it to be an insurmountable challenge, a cosmic decathalon that would require months of prep work, it was the most elementary thing imaginable: 1) Stop convoluting life. 2) Stop thinking everything to death. 3) Live for the moment. 4) Forgive yourself.

This morning, as I trudged my feet to the car, sinuses acting up, realizing it wasn't quite as mild as I expected, I knew that God was with me, but I didn't understand just how much He cared about me knowing it. In spite of all the sleep I lost last week, which I'm slowly making up for, I was relatively on time for my earliest interview in a while. Given the distance, I'm excluding an 8:00 AM one that was practically in my backyard. I won't get into detail about the interview except to say that no matter how hard it is to walk into these things, 19 times out of 20 I end up leaving with a good impression. People here can be a little lackadaisical about how beneficial, scratch that, crucial it is to market their businesses, but once I sit down with them they most always impress me. We have good workers here who are generally inept at tooting their horns about it. That's where our magazine steps in. Anyway, as I walked out of that interview, I felt a calmness envelope me.

There I was, out of my cage, i.e. my office, standing in the sun on a mild January morning. The air was soothing, and there was a dewey glaze on the road. As I got into my car, I felt as if life was timeless, just as it is for God. I didn't want to take the highway home, I felt like meandering along the coast. I felt like taking the scenic drive home and intersecting all the rays that seep through the boughs to decorate the road like one of those heart monitor machines. In the end I chose not to, thinking that I could replicate the experience on the highway, and I did. I turned up the music, sipped away at a large double double, and just floated home as if the very moment was a charming drug. For whatever reason, I felt as if my current place in the universe, in spite of how it might look on paper, in spite of how others may look at me and say I haven't accomplished much (or have)-- I felt as if none of that mattered. God is with me, and God will guide me through every step and decision and hurdle that comes my way. I don't want to lose sight of this. I don't want to rush through any part of life. I don't want there to be a fast-forward button anymore.

For the longest time, I told myself that I would pay my dues young and reap rewards later. Now I believe that paying one's dues is a reward of itself. Life is a due. Anyone that doesn't bestow himself or herself with life is indebted to God for breathing existence into us. You know what? That is absolutely all that matters. So yeah, no scriptures to cite today. They're very important, but they'll never be a substitute for how you put them into practice. God willing, I'll soon have an opportunity to discover them with other like-minded folk. But that's for another moment. For now, I'm just going to soak in this little stint of warmth amidst the coldest months. I guess the LORD knew I had some traveling to do this morning and ordered up some unfrozen roads for my journey. When I look back on life, He blessed me through every minute of it. Through illness and health, through feast and famine. God hasn't withheld a thing from me. It's time I stop questioning why. Yes, I think I'm on the road to healing. I may not be indestructable, but God's plan for me is. But He can't enact it unless I let Him. Ladies and gentlemen, attitude is a choice. Be your own ally and life will act in kind. But if you're anything like me, that's probably way too simple for you to compute. I genuinely pray that God unravels it for you just as He's been doing for me. Ironically, for someone as immeasurably strong as God, for a righteous and holy being who can move the very mountains, I think it's the molehills that He most often has to explain to us. I can chuckle at it now. And if I can, anyone can.

What God Wants in Black and White

2008-01-06T14:05:00.000-04:00

Ezekiel 33: 10-11
10 "Son of man, say to the house of Israel, 'This is what you are saying: "Our offenses and sins weigh us down, and we are wasting away because of them. How then can we live?" ' 11 Say to them, 'As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, O house of Israel?'

I don't know how to hear God's voice. I am so lacking in self-confidence that I even question it when it's crystal clear. When God offers me a blessing, I feel inclined to acknowledge Him out loud, to tell Him that I am honoured and delighted to receive something from Him, that if He'd be patient with me I would strive to reach a point of worthiness so I might accept His grace with clear conscience. That doesn't just stem from the humbling existence I've led since I accepted Christ, that is how I've been for as long as I can remember.

Notice how many times I referred to myself there?

In the last church service of 2007, Pastor AJ put out the question: Do you ever sit in God's presence for the sole reason of getting to know the person of Jesus Christ? It's great that God offers blessings to believers, but I how often do you simply bask in His radiance? If you remove salvation, peace, and all other forms of grace, how many of us would approach God and just simply want to know Him? Honestly, that notion perplexed me. For the longest time, I've felt like life is a crucible, like we're put into a situation of forced decision, like we need to choose life or death and only the fool would choose to die. But wouldn't it be great to die and leave our corpses and just be free souls to do as we please and wander the universe at our own leisure? In 1999, I discovered God for myself, through experience. But with every blessing, with every bit of truth comes responsibility. I realized that I couldn't live a life that would exploit my fellow man, that I had to be a "good person". If you read the surrounding verses in Ezekiel 33, as well as the surrounding chapters, God refers mostly to human practice. He talks about the actions the Israelites take. That is such a minute part of the story, though.

Idol worship--God detests it. Not because people are bowing to wooden idols, but because they are placing faith into empty sources. Hope, faith, and love: the greatest virtues in existence. How many of us consider this disclaimer, though: if you misplace them, they will rock your foundation and absolutely destroy you. If you bow you head to something empty, you make a declaration in front of everyone that you have placed your faith in it. There's no question that as Christians we are living representatives of Christianity, but that doesn't mean we're good ones. As such, when we place faith in something empty, like the Israelites did for generations, inciting God's wrath, it profanes God's name in front of the nations and all watching eyes. But that is just half the story, as I said.

Ezekiel 33: 1-6
1 The word of the LORD came to me: 2 "Son of man, speak to your countrymen and say to them: 'When I bring the sword against a land, and the people of the land choose one of their men and make him their watchman, 3 and he sees the sword coming against the land and blows the trumpet to warn the people, 4 then if anyone hears the trumpet but does not take warning and the sword comes and takes his life, his blood will be on his own head. 5 Since he heard the sound of the trumpet but did not take warning, his blood will be on his own head. If he had taken warning, he would have saved himself. 6 But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people and the sword comes and takes the life of one of them, that man will be taken away because of his sin, but I will hold the watchman accountable for his blood.'

What, pray tell, is the difference between wickedness and blood? Both are held shoulder to shoulder, according to the scriptures. I believe that this is the difference between what a man does with his hands and what a man feels in his heart. In other words, I can give up vices and impurities, all of which are snares, but I can still fall into the pit. God doesn't just look at what we demonstrate to other people or how we treat other people, but He searches our hearts and weighs our intentions. If Satan digs his talons and pricks his thorns into my side, and I remove them through God's grace but then hide my wounds from God's eyes, like a cat who runs off to die in the shade, I am no better for having removed those thorns. If, on the other hand, I trust in God to heal me, and permit Him to heal me, I WILL be healed. There is no problem or challenge in existence that God can't fix with His will. He doesn't need to so much as nod or snap His fingers; God is of limitless strength and can reduce kingdoms to ashes or build kingdoms from ashes. Earlier this week, someone asked me where the proof was. History is the proof. All prophecies through God's representatives have come true. They were uttered before the respective events and were manifest in pristine proficiency. Satan has a word for that: coincidence.

You know what? God tests us all, especially once we know Him. But God does not inflict pain on the faithful. Most of the things we struggle with--addictions, weaknesses, etc.--are not from God. But God does have a role in them; He wants to heal them for us. He stitched us all a certain way that we might express things in our unique perspective and thus all come together like the most complicated movie plot that was ever written. We perform acts that seem elementary to us that can profoundly impact the lives of everyone who is touched by the people we touch. It's an exponential domino effect that can spread across the whole world before we could decide what to have for dinner. And the truth for me, my truth, is that I have been so twisted and polluted over the course of my life that I have reached a point where I'm fearful of being healed. It's wrong, but I find myself grounded by the things I don't let go of. It's as if I'm clinging to a branch that is attached to a tree that will sink with me into quicksand, but in terms of my relational clinging to the tree, I feel safe. The fact remains that everything in the physical realm is not just destructable, but it will destruct. Our souls are the only thing we'll ever have, and yet so many of us place all our stock in the natural world. Man alive, am I ranting here, but I believe every syllable of it.

God, I ask you, in front of everyone who reads this, to remove all the internal mechanisms that have been placed in me to distort my vision. Not the way I see the world reflected but the very way I approach it. Let me release my knuckle-white grip on everything I thought was real and fully embrace Your salvation. Let me stop trying to move mountains that step aside at Your command. Let me stop trying to destroy myself for a world that would not only destroy me but will itself be destroyed for its wickedness. Don't give me daily peace and comfort but eternal rest in knowing that I have eyes but can't see the future. LORD, you see all that was, is, and will be, and You can choose things for me that I don't understand that will pay eternal dividends. Not because I need a reward for knowing, but because knowing you is itself a reward. Perhaps that still is selfish, but I sure as life believe that anyone who knows you without an ulterior motive will only know peace anyway. But, God, if I do nothing else for you in my time on this planet, let me know You so that I might convey your true nature: You are not some puppetmaster who relishes in the struggles of His lambs; you are a shepherd who genuinely cares for all His sheep. Your embrace is never exhausted; you always have room for another hungry lamb that thrives on the glory of Your being.

Satan doesn't want me to fall by the sword. He doesn't want me to die of famine or illness. He wants me to implode. He wants me to recede so far into myself that I can never serve You, O LORD. Today I openly acknowledged that. I am not healed yet, but I am a willing party in it. It's just such a lambasting experience to know that I don't need to simply mend my ways but that my very essence, my very way of being is self-destructive. Worst of all, I've known it for ages. Knowing is not enough.

There is no greater suicide, no greater anguish than to destroy that which can't be grasped. There is no greater pain than the dissection of that which can't be sundered: the spirit. It is the slowest and most painful death of all, and I was an inch away from it when you intervened in October, LORD. Perhaps some thought it dramatic when I said that 2007 was the year that would have destroyed. It was, and it almost did. And I knew it. And knowing is not enough.

Set yourselves free, everyone. Not with your eyes or hands or minds but with your hearts.

Me, In Exile

2008-01-02T21:04:00.000-04:00

Today I came across many passages that reminded me of myself. I've been told by greater writers than I that I often speak and write in metaphor, that I need to control my language if I wish to be understood, and I understand that it's a truth I must learn to deal with. If the purpose of communication is to be understood, I can't express myself in the eccentric ways of my youth. I should even mention that this post is a severely edited version of the same idea I sat down to write earlier this evening.

In summary, what I read this evening brought me a great deal of comfort. I've noticed many parallels between the Old Testament and events in my life and human history that are too similar to be coincidental. As I've said before, that's one of the reasons the Bible has been such a surreal reading experience for me: not only is it divine in its authority and great truth, but it's written in such a way as to be relevent to every generation of every civilization that would succeed its composition. God did not write for the people of any given era but for all people that would exist. In earlier days, I would have foolishly sought after that standard. Tonight's post might have been one such example.

Since I moved back to Tusket in 2003, I've been asking myself one resounding question: "Why?" Why had I chosen unhealthy things that left me with so much uncertainty in life? Why had I always been so different, even in my youth? Why was I so unworthy of common things like more friends or my own family?

See, I had many things going for me for quite some time. I've always been eccentric, but toward the end of adolescence I had finally gathered an entourage of fellow intellectuals and deep thinkers. I didn't have to censor myself with these people. The Curse of James had been exposed for the lie that it was. This posed quite a dilemma for Satan. There was a great risk in me, a chance that I might open my mouth and express certain things. There was a lot of potential for me to see myself through the eyes of others, and that would have greatly contrasted the image of myself that Satan presented me with. Instead of loathing the uniqueness of my character, I might have learned to celebrate those differences, as I did where it concerned everyone but myself. And so, playing off my insecurities, Satan led me to believe that sharing oneself was the greatest vulnerability in existence, that loneliness wasn't pretty but it was darned safe. "You can't be serious, James," he would say. "The world that ostracized you would only destroy you. Perhaps you're unworthy of them, but if you march by your own beat, you will achieve singular greatness. Then you may approach them and dish out the humble pie."

I had an interest in writing, and that seemed the most logical approach. Through enough observation, study, and introspection, I could probably write something that just might change the world a little. "Change the world, huh? Give it enough time, and you just may do that."

I had been divided, and I was about to be conquered. I started to spend less time with my confidantes and more time experimenting with things I should have avoided. I made my bed with those who didn't understand me. I fled.

"You need experiences in order to write the truth, James. These might not be pretty, but they are very relevent to this world. You must understand this world to save it."

It was kind of relieving to indulge in certain vices. It dulled the mental multitasking that had consumed my mind since youth. You've heard of the scatterbrained? The artist prone to procrastination? I was that to the Nth degree. My head felt like Los Angeles at rush hour. Millions of thoughts, none channeled properly. I remember waking up the morning after I first got drunk; my brain felt logjammed. Aside from being kind of scary, it was soothing to just ooze intoxicants upon the synaptic eight-laners, to cover it all in a smoggy veil and forget reality for a second. Satan was okay with that; I couldn't spend every instant learning about the world, after all. Even the greats needed to repose at some point.

My time in the city was rife with transgressions. Prior to moving there for university, I hadn't so much as touched an illicit substance. Not a drop. For a while, my life followed that course. I treated university with the same nonchalance I had exhibited in high school. I dropped out in 2001, and things got a little messy over the next couple of years. I moved around the province quite a bit. In 2002, I made one last ditch effort to salvage a failing relationship and to eke out an existence in the city. I lasted just over a year before God had enough with my aimlessness. I had been greatly blessed in life, and certainly misled. Perhaps I was too weak to best my demons, but God must have believed that I was also unlike them enough that He could justify saving me. One thing was certain, though: the LORD had seen enough.

Jeremiah 24: 1-7
1 After Jehoiachin son of Jehoiakim king of Judah and the officials, the craftsmen and the artisans of Judah were carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon, the LORD showed me two baskets of figs placed in front of the temple of the LORD. 2 One basket had very good figs, like those that ripen early; the other basket had very poor figs, so bad they could not be eaten.

3 Then the LORD asked me, "What do you see, Jeremiah?"
"Figs," I answered. "The good ones are very good, but the poor ones are so bad they cannot be eaten."

4 Then the word of the LORD came to me: 5 "This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'Like these good figs, I regard as good the exiles from Judah, whom I sent away from this place to the land of the Babylonians. 6 My eyes will watch over them for their good, and I will bring them back to this land. I will build them up and not tear them down; I will plant them and not uproot them. 7 I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the LORD. They will be my people, and I will be their God, for they will return to me with all their heart.

In August 2003, I reached the breaking point. Less than a month from finishing my lease, I was let go from work. The worst job I ever had. In fact, I never would have stayed there if it hadn't been for the fact my parents co-signed an apartment lease. My credit meant nothing to me, but there was no way I was going to allow my bum luck to slander their names. So I trudged on, even after my ex left me with an expensive flat. Thanks to kindly neighbours, I ate more often than I might have. God even provided me with many believers as friends in the months leading up to August. I listened to them. I considered what they said. I believed in the LORD, but I didn't want to accept all His ways. I guess my faith was enough for Him to preserve my life. When my bank account approached the red, I knew I had failed. It was back to my childhood home, back to the scene of the crime, so to speak. But then, wasn't every place I'd stepped been as such?

Since my recent conversion, I had reached a point where I could examine my situation and not loathe myself for some of the decisions I'd made. But I certainly wasn't happy. It never occurred to me until I read Jeremiah's words that perhaps me being in Tusket was God's doing. Perhaps He took me away from ready access to vices so that I might grow in strength. Just as Joseph son of Jacob said to his brothers: it was not because of their deception that he was carried into Egypt; it was because God had the foresight and caring to put him in a position to save himself and his family. This feels so familiar now, much more so than when I read it in October. (To a much smaller degree, perhaps, but it reminds me of me.)

Pastor Jim would say that the church doesn't expect perfection; it expects excellence. No one is expected to do more than his or her ability. But see, I've always felt that nothing short of perfection would make me worthy of others. I'm the guy who habitually told himself that he could have anything he wanted...later. After I'd earned it, that is. But that time would never come. Ever. I see that now. Of course, it only applies to things that truly matter to me.

I guess it's no real surprise that I can relate to Jeremiah; he was greatly misunderstood. My past pursuits might not have been in service of God, but certainly I understand what it's like to believe in something and be shamed for it. That's just a part of my childhood that I have to accept. I was surrounded by folks who made me feel grotesque for marching to a different beat. Whether that was intentional or not, that's how it felt. Perception is everything, my friends. Why else do you think kids bring guns to school with shells in one pocket and a hitlist in the other? I had never reached that point. Instead, I adopted a holier-than-thou mentality. I had determined that karma existed in some form and would unleash wrath on all those who mistreated me. I'm not the only one who experienced such moments of weakness (Jeremiah 20: 7-18).

But, as I've mentioned to some of my closest confidantes, something happened to me in 2003 that effectively nullified my entire past. Something was unlocked in my heart that proved to me, beyond all doubt, that I wasn't just alive but I had been forged and created by knowing hands. That God was truly real. But I didn't like the notion that I had contributed to my [potential] demise. I couldn't accept that all my years of anguish were partially my fault. At least Jeremiah had the LORD to guide him. I tried to go it on my own terms. Even though I didn't deserve it, God stepped in. I'm healing in ways I never thought possible. I'm not completely over myself. I still cling to certain mental habits. But I'll get there.

I'm finally starting to meet people for reasons other than school or work. Perhaps I'm not a holy man, but I sure as dickens am striving to be one. My eyes are fixed on genuine truth and real ideals. Yesterday morning I woke from a strange dream and I was actually in mid-prayer. I can't explain it, but the very second I regained consciousness, I was thinking about and talking with God. That was one of the coolest most inspiring moments of my life. It's progress, I tells ya.

You know what? We have minds and eyes and the ability to examine things, but it's not what we see that we should be judging, it's what our conscience says that matters. Our eyes were given to us so that we might navigate this world, but the inherent risk of that, as God surely knew, is that we actually become attached or resentful of what they show us. The heart, my friends, the heart alone is what counts.

In closing, my favourite passage, and likely to remain my favourite:

1 Samuel 16:7
"The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."

(For those who don't know, that's what God told Samuel when he looked at David and thought, "Nah, this guy ain't no king.")

God's Promise

2007-12-31T14:16:00.000-04:00

The first Biblical book I read start to finish was Revelation. It was during a time when I was curious about Christianity and was considering using Biblical resonance to spice up my novels. At the time, I was told that it was the only book in the Bible that offers a blessing for merely reading it. Of course, all attempts to know God are blessed, and the same could be said for every verse in the Bible, but the point was that Revelation was different, that its blessing was so clearly contained in the text itself:

Revelation 1:3
Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near.

No point in disputing those words.

However, I might contest the suggestion that the Bible doesn't make other such promises. This passage, for instance, strikes the very same chord with me:

Isaiah 49:7
This is what the LORD says—
the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel—
to him who was despised and abhorred by the nation,
to the servant of rulers:
"Kings will see you and rise up,
princes will see and bow down,
because of the LORD, who is faithful,
the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you."

Why do I think that was written to non-Israelites? Many reasons. First, the word nation is not pluralized here. If you've read the book of Isaiah, that's a rare, rare thing. Most uses of that word are pluralized and used in the context of God's wrath. Here's the back story: Isaiah is a prophet who served under King Hezekiah. Most of the book of Isaiah speaks of things to come, not records of what has already been. As such, much of the text deals with the judgment God will exercise on Israel for having worshipped idol gods and committed atrocious sins. God will deliver the Israelites into the hands of many oppressors. However, because of God's covenant with Jacob/Israel, God will eventually free His people from captivity. He will be especially scornful to those who dealt unfairly with the Israelite slaves. Depending on the verse, the word nations could be used in reference to countries like Edom and Babylon, but there are times when it is used in a much wider, global context. I might be wrong, but I don't recall Isaiah using it in singular form until 49:7, and I must believe that it refers to Israel.

In verse 6, Isaiah talks about how God's Servant (presumably Christ) will also save the Gentiles. As you might know, they were long despised and abhorred by the Jews, because of political conflicts and the fact that God instructed the Jews not to intermarry or contract with them. Because God is just, He can neither abandon His chosen people nor toss away Gentiles whose hearts wish to serve Him. I believe God knew this from the beginning, that no people on earth would be perfect in His eyes. He originally chose Israel because they were descended from Noah, the man who singlehandedly saved human existence by finding God's grace amidst an entire world of evildoers.

As far as I'm concerned, for God to say such strong things to the Gentiles--that because they believe they will be greater than unjust kings and princes--there is just as much blessing in that promise as there is in Revelation. No doubt, there are some more scholarly than I who would interpret this citation differently, but Isaiah is a weird book to me. Something about it seems to have echoed through the generations, as if he saw more than just one vision and prophesied things would be relevent until the end. Such is the way God writes: timelessly.

Happy New Year!

EDIT: After reading on, I believe the him in the passage refers to Christ. Call me an egomanic, but I think all believers AKA the redeemed are contained in Christ. Refer to this:

Isaiah 53: 12
Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
and he will divide the spoils with the strong,
because he poured out his life unto death,
and was numbered with the transgressors.
For he bore the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors.

Not to sound unappreciative or unhumble, but I must here acknowledge the living Christ inside me. I believe that God chooses all of us to be His servants. I believe God wants us all to accept the charge. This is the comfort of inviting Christ into our hearts and allowing Him to guide our lives: to accept all inherent responsibilities of living a Christian life, to make daily sacrifices and avoid temptation, but to be comforted by the fact that in so doing we liberate ourselves from within. None of us can steal this peace from God. It is offered first and accepted second. Because Christ is God, God is the Redeemer. Those chosen for redemption, i.e. those who wisely accept redemption, are the you in the first citation.

I believe that contained in Isaiah's prophecy is a promise and a blessing, just as I believe it is a commitment to honour it properly. While none of us can sacrifice on the same magnitude as Christ, we MUST commit our earthly lives to Him in exchange for heavenly ones. As I said before, it is the greatest most profitable transaction in existence, akin to trading a penny for a million mints, mints from which gold may be constantly gleaned and never emptied. To me, the greatest fools in this world are the people who look at mortal existence and refer to it as "life". This planet is a stepping stone. Those who cling to it, those who don't leap to the solid land ahead, will sink into the stream with the world that wants to destroy us.

That's why I feel like I must spread God's joyous message: Because our fate is not a sentence, not an unjust or haphazard outcome; our fate is our choice and hinges on our will. God's choice for each is for each to follow Him into His glory. But as a caring Father, He will respect the volition of each, even it leads to ruin. He will not force your hand, won't force you to serve in His kingdom.

Here's a goal for 2008: I once looked at servitude as captivity. I used to think that serving God was akin to serving man. I know better now. I know that being a vessel for Jesus Christ is the most liberating, joyous existence. That is what I must clarify in the minds of those who think like I once did. Not because I want to be aggressive in my ministry, not because I have a right to tell anyone what to do, but because God has an earnest and genuine love for every person He created. If I think any less of any one of those people, I will be locked out of His kingdom. And that, my friends, is justice unwavering. I respect it.

There is nothing I find more alluring than integrity. For all the confidence I lack in myself, for all the things I need healed and mended within my spirit, I believe in the integrity of the LORD Almighty and that a determined effort to be the person God sees in me will lead me into fearlessness. Let 2008 be the first of many years that I decide nothing for myself. May God's guiding hand type every word I write, speak every word I voice, and perform every gesture and action that graces my body. This is what I ask for in front of all who read this. Let 2007, the year that almost destroyed me, end as the year that inspired me. Let me be a living example of true restoration and healing. Let me be a lamb of God, forever and ever.

There's Nothing Partial About Christianity

2007-12-24T20:31:00.000-04:00

Gonna keep this one short and sweet.

Too often, life for the sake of life leaves us unsatisfied. To be satisfied is to be whole, to be complete. This world is ill-suited for completeness. Everything about it comes to ruin, the tangible and the esoteric. Everything in existence but God.

God is possessed of all virtues. God is the source of all virtues. God has endless amounts of these virtues. Of His mercy, Isaiah says this:

Isaiah 9: 6-7
6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, ^[a] Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

7 Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.

God's only son, sent to Earth to pay our sinful debts, that we might someday stand before God and be judged. To die so we may live. If the superlative nature of this premise is lost on you, if you can't see how these acts touch both extremes of sacrifice and forgiveness, accept my humble pity.

However, understand that all the following words, too, are maxed out. They have only on or off switches. There are no degrees of these. If you're like me, you're darned glad that's the case.

salvation
forgiveness
mercy
holiness
righteousness
heaven
hell
sin
justice
life
death
peace

If you have a distorted image of any of those, blame this world, not God.

Merry eternal Christmas, everyone. Keep Christ in Christmas, and keep Christmas forever.

The Fine Print

2007-12-24T00:24:00.000-04:00

This has been a year of intense discoveries about the world and myself. Some good, some bad--all needed. I genuinely believe that the course I was on in September would have led me into ruin, that this would have been the year to destroy me. But God intervened. And even though I've generally identified myself as a Christian for as long as I understood the term, I think it fair to say, in hindsight, that this is my first Christmas as a genuine believer. To call a spade a spade, Christmas had become for me a time of grief, of emphasized wrongs and vacancies in my life.

On paper, I look pretty good now. For the first Christmas ever, I don't believe the Bible is a hodgepodge of God's Word and a bunch of oppressive jargon written by clergymen. I believe it is the true Word of God, authentic and complete, a faultless canon. I haven't read it all, but I've read over half the book in less than two months. I will finish it within the next. Trust me. For the first Christmas ever, I don't believe in degrees of sin. I believe that all sin separates us from the LORD Almighty, that each sin is like a dart that pierced Christ on the cross, and that through His forgiveness we might stand before God and be judged, instead of hurled directly into the depths of hell. For the first Christmas ever, I will attend a Christmas Eve service as a man who has chosen Wesleyan principles above all identifiable vices. If you stalked me with a camera à la reality TV, you would see that I have cut illicit substances, all forms of gambling, cursing, and so on from my life. I've had opportunities to indulge in private, but it's my prerogative to look at myself in the mirror with a clear conscience, that God's lens is the one most feared, not the one with the red flashing light. On paper, I've done okay.

And yet, I wouldn't make the same assertions Job does in the Bible. My failures have been subtle, if not utterly invisible. But they've been big. In many instances, I've tried to pool from my own strength. I've tried to search for the perfect words or the perfect gestures, and my search for perfection--scratch that, my insistance of perfection--is a standard long-engrained in my self-image. My approach couldn't be more destructive, and this is where I need to be healed. This is the greatest discovery, aside from God's grace, that I've made this year. And here's how Solomon phrased it:

Ecclesiastes 7: 16
Do not be overrighteous,
neither be overwise—
why destroy yourself?

So. I guess I'd better interpret that, lest I be thought conceited. For starters, I'm neither overrighteous nor overwise. I have an Israeli friend who doesn't seem to identify himself as being very faithful, but he's assured me that English translations fall a little flat. Perhaps even modern ones, but who can say for certain? What I do believe, however, is that this is certainly a passage that means close to what it actually says. At face value, it's ludicrous. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm not identifying myself as either of those standards because they simply don't exist in humans. Solomon boasts about the virtues and advantages of righteousness and wisdom throughout Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. In other words, you can't have too much of them. What you can do is commit your life to the pursuit of knowledge, the endless pursuit thereof, and never be satisfied with it. If you set your heart at discovering the mysteries that aren't to be known to you, you will surely fail:

Proverbs 2: 6
For the LORD gives wisdom,
and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

I don't know why my mind vainly pursues answers, whether it's my own volition or a result of sheer habit, but this part of me has not yet been healed. Now, we could debate the semantics, but I'm going to share something about myself that you wouldn't so much detect in my actions unless you knew precisely what God had placed in my heart. I habitually commit what I consider to be the greatest sin as ever existed: doubt.

In doubt, we find the absence of virtues. All of them. If I were to make a chart of sin and virtue, all the ones we've come to know would be sandwiched between doubt and faith. I know it says in the New Testament that love is the greatest virtue, and perhaps that's because love can transcend Christianity. It is entirely possible to love someone with or without a knowledge of God. I would argue that God's grace is at the heart of all love, that we are so complex that we might act out things we don't intrinsically understand, but for anyone to exhibit or embody any Christian principle, one must walk the path of faith. I believe this is utterly irrefutable.

As for me, I doubt in myself all the time. Over the last two days, more than one person has said to me that the image I have of myself is very unlike what others see in me. Not only do I seek perfection, I also impose on myself what I should trust God to do on my behalf. But in many ways, knowledge is still a god to me. Observations and vicarious experience, viewed from a distance, define my life. Fear governs my life. I am clinging to invisible things that now camera could detect, and this is why I have some deeply embedded components that must change. It sounds pretty bleak, but it's certainly not as bleak as I was before I knew these things. Before I identified this about myself, I constantly waited for signs. For me to place myself in a potentially vulnerable position, I needed a more than a tangible invitation. The more impatient I grow, the more I was embittered, and the more left to my own devices. Everyone's own devices could destroy them.

Have you ever wondered why Satan is so powerful? In pop culture he's depicted as a guy that appears through a puff of smoke and makes you sign a document before handing you an artificial solution. If that was accurate to real life, I'd like to think that most of us would be able to see this as proof of God's existence and thereby take the higher road based solely on logical consideration. Instead, Satan is much stronger. He has nothing on you but doubt and your own insecurities, which he will mercilessly pit against you. That's what I've been describing here.

So I can't play the mercenary anymore; I need to be part of a body of believers. I need to understand that I'm only as weak as my doubt is strong. I'm not as unworthy as Satan has whispered in my ears. Heh, understand. No. Understanding is nothing. Living it is a much stronger declaration of faith. About a half hour ago, I thought that I needed my mind destroyed. What I really need is for someone to come along and tame it. So, if God will accept this post as my evening prayer, I need that kind of blessing. I want to be a genuine example for people. And that's why I've aired all these things about myself.

If you should find yourself reading this, and if you've accepted Christ as your personal Saviour, don't question the thoroughness or legitimacy of His sacrifice. Once your debts have been erased, don't ask where you can make a payment. Don't act as if your strength has to carry you. There is nothing made of flesh that Satan can't destroy. Just as there's no one in God's salvation that Satan could even blemish.

Forget all your logic, take the leap, and embrace the Hands that catch you. A lot of this easier said than done, though.

Context is Everything (Part 2)

2007-12-19T21:22:00.001-04:00

There are many things I love about the Yarmouth Wesleyan church. Every one of the pastors has a unique style that injects vitality into what they preach. They also believe in being accountable to the scriptures, which is most important. These aren't just gifts; they're commitments. I've set foot in many churches that preach from the gospel, but there's a point that some of them lose with time and complacency: scripture is God's Word, not a god itself. To be complacent in one's faith is to demotivate a body of believers. The nature of this world is constantly urgent; there will never be a moment when evil relents. Them's the breaks. This is something that hasn't been lost at my church, and it's something that was readily apparent to me when I attended the Thanksgiving service a few months ago, the first time I sat through a sermon there. Not surprisingly, I walked away with a sense of fear. It would be another four days of soul-searching before I finally submitted to God, but after glimpsing His influence through the midst of the Sunday morning crowd, I felt like the guy who was about 27 years making a payment to the mafia don. Scary stuff. [Note to self: Dedicate a blog post to recounting all my near death experiences, all of which could have knocked me into an eternal grave but for God's mercy in keeping me here.]

Mayhaps you've heard someone mention that it would be nice if life came with an instruction manual. Well, it does. However, if you spend too much time with your nose pressed to the groove, you probably won't live much of what you're reading. Always remember that. Since I started reading Genesis, a day hasn't passed that I didn't read at least a few chapters in the Bible. Since I started reading the Bible, a day hasn't passed that I didn't learn something new about God and life. Not only is it just that simple, but I've noticed an increase sense of security and comfort, as well as the blessings I once would have ignored. But that all hinged on me approaching God with an open mind. It required me to understand and respect His timetable. I had to read passages and offer honest consideration to what they said before I really started to reap the benefits of a wholesome life. (And they are many, let me tell you.)

As I noted in yesterday's post, that's a stark contrast to my former attempts. Don't get me wrong; everyone is entitled to his or her opinion. As Pastor Jim would say, it's not important to agree on theology at the end of the day as long as you can say that you've sincerely prayed over the scriptures and are right with God. That understood, let's take a huge step back and remind ourselves that the Bible is a massively complex book expressed in universally relatable terms. That itself is a miracle, innit? Even the most mature and devout believers would tell you that verses only increase in relevence with time, and that they continually learn new things about passages they've read days, weeks, or years ago. (And months, sure!)

But a word of caution to the well-intended but less enlightened among us: when sharing any message from the Book, be utterly careful. A lot of us, myself included, have tried to affirm our beliefs with scripture, when in fact the proper thing to do is work the other way: base your beliefs on those passages. Otherwise, you've got yourself a recipe for corruption, if not disaster. It's widely understood that people hate hypocrisy and that churches can serve as potential dens of hypocrites. Earlier today, I was listening to a recorded Fusion service my friend Matt recently lent me. There's an interview with U2's Bono in which Bono references many instances when churches were very ungentle with regards to the public. He specifically mentioned the African AIDS crisis, that so many churches and churchgoers drove wedges between themselves and the infected. They considered all those who contracted the HIV virus as sexual deviants who were unworthy of their fellowship.

Well, my friends, let me tell you a few things about God: God hates suffering. He will call these ministers to account when they stand before Him. God has a soft spot for the poor. Even King David started his life in poverty (1 Samuel 18: 23). Hehe, I can tell I'm going to use a lot of proverbs to support my ideas, because they can't really be pigeon-holed:

Proverbs 14: 31
He who oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God.

Thank you, King Solomon. That's a complete idea, and it's taken in context. There are many parts of the Bible, however, that say one thing but mean another. Some are positive and some negative. I do feel, though, that it's important to consider the real meaning behind what you cite. The thing is, there are many people who misrepresent the Word and the Christian ethic. Unfortunately, not only do they bring harm upon God's children, but they also influence a lot of people who ultimately decide that God is not for them. God will judge them accordingly.

Take the following, for instance:

Job 6: 14
A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

You know what? I encourage you to live by that principle. To borrow another line from Pastor Jim, Christians should be concerned with the restoration of friends who stray from God. As he'd say, we want to be careful not to fall into the same snares that snag our friends, but we should certainly prioritize their return to God's path. We should help to build them up, not kick them when their faces are in the dirt. Don't think for one second that this world is a sanctuary; it's a giant battlefield. Left to our own devices, we'd all be doomed to failure (and subsequently to death). On the contrary, God bestows His presence to those who love Him; He is always present when people congregate to worship Him sincerely. What that means is that fellowship is the true nature of churches, not buildings or rituals or doctrines. The reason we convene is to unify our voices into one resounding praise machine, not because God wants an hour of weekly lip service. (If this idea doesn't sit well with you, feel free to send me a line from the canon that suggests otherwise.)

Now, why wouldn't suggest using that line from the book of Job to reinforce these sentiments? Well, for one thing, Job is being ironic. He has, to his own awareness, lived what he calls a blameless life. After he lost all he had in the world and was stricken with a devastating skin disease, three of his friends came to his side. Most verses in Job are conversational and written as couplets. The line above (Job 6: 14) is not meant to serve as a pseudo proverb; it's a lament. Job feels that his entire life was pure and that God has treated him unjustly. He wants to be brought before a neutral judge, one that presumably would rule more fairly than God (were that possible). Job challenges God to bring forth one credible witness against him. Job's friends refuse to support his cause, and that's what inspires him to speak the above line. It has nothing to do with friendship; he's asking in blindness to be led by other blind men. Here's what he really thinks of his friends, which he says after they repeatedly fail to strike fear into him:

Job 6: 21
Now you too have proved to be of no help; you see something dreadful and are afraid.

Let me offer a secular example that seems equally deceptive when considered on a tunnel-visioned level. As a teen, I idolized the rock band R.E.M. In 1987, they had a fairly popular single entitled "The One I Love". Altogether, the lyrics were a four-line stanza that was repeated throughout the song. Here are the first two lines:

This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I left behind

Imagine some fairly tense music behind that, and it almost sounds like the protagonist wants to make amends with someone loved and lost. I used to frequent a fan site that had a pretty active messageboard, and I've read dozens of examples of people who've dedicated this song to girlfriends or boyfriends or spouses, and none of them had any appreciation for the bitter irony of this song. Some even had it played at their weddings. Lines three and four, which convey the protagonist's true intent, are thus:

This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I left behind
A simple prop to occupy my time
This one goes out to the one I love

You'll note I've rewritten the first two lines for the sake of sheer clarity. Now, this is just a silly song. In the grand scheme, it doesn't really matter whether you love, hate, or misunderstand it. No one preaches from it (I would hope). But how many people try to twist scripture into supporting their views? How many false prophets and false preachers are out there? Believe me, I've met my share. I've heard about some very disturbing rituals that certain sects and churches have practiced, and, without trying to sound too austere, I can assure you they were not endorsed by God.

I'm not saying we shouldn't support our friends. I'm not saying that Job didn't inadvertently speak great (but cautionary) wisdom. But there are hundreds of passages that might better support these ideals. Don't lean on the quotes that can come back to bite you.

I don't know why this is such a touchy subject for me. Having experienced such a drastic transformation, I just feel really compelled to defend the scriptures, as I said in the posts entitled "My New Purpose". The book of Job is very, very ironic. It was kind of refreshing for me to read it, the way it contrasts most other books. It kind of hearkened back to my university days when I would hermit myself in my tiny apartment with an extra large coffee and burn through Tennyson or Milton. There's so much wisdom in the book of Job that I'm hesitant to use outside this post because of the underhanded way it's presented. I mean, look at how eloquent this is:

Job 28: 12-3, 23-4, 27-8
12 "But where can wisdom be found? Where does understanding dwell? 13 Man does not comprehend its worth; it cannot be found in the land of the living. 23 God understands the way to it and he alone knows where it dwells, 24 for he views the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens. 27 then he looked at wisdom and appraised it; he confirmed it and tested it. 28 And he said to man, 'The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding.' "

And yet all of that was said facetiously. As I said, be careful.

Let's end with another proverb. Solomon reminds me of my situation. I wouldn't say I have very many friends, but the ones I've kept are priceless.

Proverbs 18: 24
A man of many companions may come to ruin,
but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.

(I think he's referring to God, but I'll extend that a little beyond the LORD for the sake of practicality.)

Context is Everything (Part 1)

2007-12-17T14:48:00.000-04:00

If there's one thing I understand, it's the hesitation of those who don't understand God. All too recently, that was me. The thing is, it makes sense to want to understand God before you submit to Him, just as you'd want to understand the benefits of a health club membership before joining. But life's journey is not a small matter. Since few of us ever acknowledge the importance of salvation, the fate of our souls after death, it makes sense that most people won't likely study it or ever make an effort to gain the understanding that might lead to a satisfying life. Heck, a lot of us even have an aversion to it. Again, I know what that's like. Believe me.

However, things are what they are, and the Bible remains one of the greatest insights into God's nature. That too has been greatly misrepresented in mainstream culture. I've said this before, and I will surely repeat it to many curious folks, but if we approach scripture with an agenda--other than learning about God's teachings--we're not likely to walk away with an honest impression. A few months ago, when the scale was tipping, when I felt the ground giving way beneath me, when I was so disgustingly unsatisfied with my "independant life", I tried something dangerous. I wanted to strike a compromise in life. I wanted to continue as I had been; I wanted to incorporate God into my life without accepting all His gospel. I was mildly familiar with the teachings of Jesus Christ, and I certainly understood the principles of fellowship and good will, but I was complacent in my sin and wanted to coalesce it with a spiritual avenue I was about to pursue. I opened my Bible randomly to this passage:

Deuteronomy 17: 2-5
2 If a man or woman living among you in one of the towns the LORD gives you is found doing evil in the eyes of the LORD your God in violation of his covenant, 3 and contrary to my command has worshiped other gods, bowing down to them or to the sun or the moon or the stars of the sky, 4 and this has been brought to your attention, then you must investigate it thoroughly. If it is true and it has been proved that this detestable thing has been done in Israel, 5 take the man or woman who has done this evil deed to your city gate and stone that person to death.

"Aha!" thought I. "Surely, those passages were written by evil hands with ulterior motives." My logic was that, where Jesus Christ would have ministered to those who wandered from the straight path, this law was suggesting that they should be ushered into death. Instead of restoring these people into a good place with God, they were being thrust into the grave. Not only that, the only one who would stand to benefit would have been Satan. If the nature of existence is a dichotomy of good and evil, and if we ultimately find ourselves serving a righteous master or an evil one, then those who had transgressed and were killed prematurely (i.e. before making reparation) would ultimately serve under Satan. I told myself that these harsh sentences were very convenient for Satan, because all he had to do was lead people astray in front of their peers, and that the law would seal their fates. Ergo, the law was wrong.

Ditto Sodom and Gomorrah, etc. How could entire cities be put to ruin? What I didn't know about them was the atrocious acts the people committed. Not the way we look at extreme crime like murder or rape, but these people made it their standards. God wasn't into gratuitous death; He was into annihilating corruption. He even said that He wouldn't destroy those cities if as few as 10 good people could be found within their walls. That's just how bad it was, and that's precisely the half of the story that seldom got told among my God-reproaching peers.

Why am I telling you this? Many reasons. You might say I have a false sense of bravado in my faith, but having read the events that lead up to these laws, I would defend the above logic with every ounce of my intellectual prowess. Personally, I don't see any value in pussyfooting around the hard stuff. These kinds of judgments are surely a stumbling block for newcomers, and all I can honestly tell you with a perfectly clear conscience is to read these books, in their entirety, for yourselves. There is so much that happens in Genesis and Exodus that can be done justice except for the text itself. There are so many examples of God's blessing that I couldn't possible repeat them all for you. There was a time when I thought Old Testament God and the person of Jesus Christ were nothing alike, and, as surely as I am alive and typing this, I am utterly horrified to have ever thought those things.

Let's consider some human examples before I try to settle the above severity in your mind.

First, how do you vote? Do you vote at all? Have the media and your situation dulled your sense of initiative to the point where you think all politicians are corrupt, therefore your vote means nothing? If you do vote, on what do you base your decision? Do you read the party platforms? Do you watch televised debates? Do you read one or two articles in the paper? Have you determined that you generally share the socialist views of liberalism or conservativism, and, as such, are willing to accept the rest of what they stand for? Did you know that both camps have an utterly deplorable record when it comes to many social issues, such as the environment?

These are big, big questions, but if you cast a ballot without understanding the extent of its meaning, you're no different than me a few months ago when I approached that passage from Deuteronomy. This may sound infantile, but why would you vote alongside your friends or by a journalist's view if you wouldn't follow these people off a cliff? You shouldn't submit to anyone else's opinion, especially if it's formed on a weak foundation. But don't you think you owe it to yourself to be accountable to yourself, not them? Don't you think that handing over all your tax dollars and the management of your country is a very big deal, one worthy of extra time and conscientious consideration? And yet, it's a pittance when held against the only thing you will ever truly possess: your immortal soul. The one thing that is you. I don't know about you, but when I didn't nurture my soul, I felt terrible. I remember feelings of intense longing and depression, even when my situation was pretty decent.

One more point before I return to scripture: Suppose you planted a garden. Let's say you planted row upon row of seeds that sprouted to life, and let's say you cared for them day in, day out. You'd water them religiously, cast protective nets on top of them. Let's say that you were seriously dedicated to their survival. I mean seriously. You weren't the gardener that pitches scarecrows at the corners of your garden; you're the gardener that sits beneath a blistering sun to manually chase scavengers away from your babies. Suppose, after all these efforts, that one of your plants becomes ill. Suppose it sprouts, for whatever reason, a spore that latches onto nearby plants and corrupts them, so that none of the infected specimens bears fruit anymore. What would you do? Would you make the intellectual argument, as I did above, that something in existence has an inherent right to live out its life, that it should be free to express itself, even if that means acting out in a way that is so unlike its creator? Would you stand back and let it destroy the rest of the civilization? Would you? Would you watch it all fall into ruin for the sake of not intervening?

Here's just a fraction of what I didn't read or know about when I decided certain passages and arcane laws were evil:

Deuteronomy 4: 9-14
9 Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them. 10 Remember the day you stood before the LORD your God at Horeb, when he said to me, "Assemble the people before me to hear my words so that they may learn to revere me as long as they live in the land and may teach them to their children." 11 You came near and stood at the foot of the mountain while it blazed with fire to the very heavens, with black clouds and deep darkness. 12 Then the LORD spoke to you out of the fire. You heard the sound of words but saw no form; there was only a voice. 13 He declared to you his covenant, the Ten Commandments, which he commanded you to follow and then wrote them on two stone tablets. 14 And the LORD directed me at that time to teach you the decrees and laws you are to follow in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to possess.

That's Moses speaking to the tribes of Israel on behalf of God. He's telling them about God's law. See, God is a holy God. We sometimes forget just how different we are from Him, how none of us are worthy of His grace, and, in spite of that, He always tries to teach us how to live well. Not only that, I'm reading the book of Proverbs right now in which King Solomon describes just how satisfying it is to live well. You may think earthly things are to be revered, just as I used to, but if you haven't made a sincere attempt to live a wholesome life, then you aren't really in a position to make a fair assessment of the differences. It's a fact. Having tried both, I can speak to the benefits of God's teachings. I feel wonderful all the time. My life has meaning, and I appreciate just how blessed I really am. Ask me about it sometimes.

Back to the matter at hand: God always makes the first effort, just as He did on behalf of the Israelites. As I said above, you need to read it all for yourself, but here's a snapshot: when His people were enslaved in Egypt, He sent 10 plagues against the Egyptians to establish His authority and to convince them to emancipate the Jews; He led His people through the desert en route to freedom, concealing them in a cloud by day and appearing as a fiery light by night; He parted the sea so they might cross it as if on dry land; He provided food for all those who embarked on the pilgrimage, including the bread of Heaven and quail for people to eat when they griped about the lack of variety; He spilled water from a rock at Meribah so His people could drink; He defeated all the other races that tried to impede the Israelites' progress, etc.

Now, I don't know about you, but I really am baffled by some of that stuff. Don't get me wrong, I believe every word of it, but here's what gets me: how could anyone witness those things and not completely submit to God? This is just how compelling temptation is. This is just how stiff-necked human nature is. Even those people dissented. In case it's unclear, in case I seem a lot more holier-than-thou than I'm intending, let me spell it out: I ain't perfect. Not even close. I struggle every day with things that try to ensnare me. And I haven't forgotten just how demoralized I used to be. Television programs did a great job illustrating why. They used to have little angels and demons appear on characters' shoulders. You must have seen that image at some point. There was one thing about those scenes that was misrepresentative, though. They showed those little guys appearing in a puff of smoke, then disappearing after they pleaded their cases. In truth, they're ALWAYS there. They're always speaking suggestions to your subconscious. It's a never-ending battle. In many ways, you can't ever win it. But you can keep from dying. The rewards for being a good solider, however, are so blissfully amazing that none of us could ever do them justice in words. That's all I knows about 'em.

Funny thing is, God may have created the world; He may have set limits to physicality, but He doesn't have to abide by them. Here's a passage that probably seems negligible to people (though I don't really know for sure). Anyway, the writer in my loves this one:

Deuteronomy 8: 4
4 Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during these forty years.

Big deal, right? I don't know. To me, that seems physically impossible, but the fact is these people wandered for that length of time, and I know they didn't pass by any shops on the way. There were no malls or kiosks, and they certainly wouldn't have been welcome at any, should they have actually met anyone who might have helped them. They were a hated people, and, because they were God's people, they survived absurdly impossible circumstances. It happened.

And yet, if you feel the way I once did, you'd rather live out a meaningless life that doesn't call you to account. You'd rather die a permanent death and not have to answer for your deeds. But, if you've ever believed a word I've told you, you have to make it this: the spirit inside me has animated my life. God's Spirit has forever replaced any drug, any artificial pleasure in flesh that once brought me momentary distraction. I feel invigorated by this stuff, and I am not afraid of the harder questions. That's why I'm writing about the more extreme things today: I am so utterly confident that if you sat down and read the first five books of the Bible, in their entirety, you would see that God's punishment is minor when held against the behaviour that incites it. You would see that, when people failed to live good lives, God handed them a means to visibly demonstrate their faith. Some of them are very ritualistic, and God doesn't need any offering or any covenant with us, but we do. We need to have ways to purify ourselves and to be made right with Him because we are so utterly fickle. That's why He added this disclaimer to the first passage, which appears immediately following it:

Deuteronomy 17: 6-7
6 On the testimony of two or three witnesses a man shall be put to death, but no one shall be put to death on the testimony of only one witness. 7 The hands of the witnesses must be the first in putting him to death, and then the hands of all the people. You must purge the evil from among you.

Next time, I'll explain why you shouldn't do the reverse of what I did. Believe it or not, there are some passages that are seemingly friendly that are, in fact, quite ironic.

Okay, fine, here's an example:

Job 6: 14
14 "A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends,
even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

Remember, it's not what Job is saying, but the context in which he means it. More to come.

Disclaimer: I have discussed some of the laws God handed to Moses that aren't modern Christian practices. All arguments presented are meant as intellectual debate and not necessarily a direct endorsement. It is my sincere goal to validate the scriptures, as I know them to be the true Word of God (inspired by Him and written through His servants). I further attest to their authenticity through His works in my heart. Having said that, I want to make it utterly clear that Jesus Christ is every person's Judge and that no human will decide your ultimate fate. A few of the passages I cited above reflect a time when humans were offered different commands than we enforce now, and there are many reasons for that. I hope I have explained some of those differences, but it would certainly benefit the reader to study all aspects of the Christian faith before formulating an opinion (myself included). This blog continues to serve as an evolving log of my journey with God. Feel free to consider my ideas, but understand that I make no pretense to suggest they serve as a substitute for the actual gospel.

Top 30 Albums of 2007

2007-12-13T00:25:00.000-04:00

(That I heard.)

Yes, these lists are bogus and self-indulgent. But the longer I hold off on posting this, the more I'll vainly continue to refine these rankings--and try to force reviews about sounds I can't describe.

30. Pelican: City of Echoes
You might say I've generally drifted from straight-up rock music, but this is just a solid batch of songs with an edge.

29. The Fiery Furnaces: Widow City
O Matthew Friedberger! How is it that you entered my life when you did? I had just moved back home after a collapsed relationship, and I might have sworn you composed your sophomore album, Blueberry Boat, exclusively for me, that I might lose myself in your imagination. You offered such rich narratives and 3-dimensional characters, squeezing conflict and tension into every song, unfolding the whole like a collection of Mother Goose stories for college dropouts: magnifique!

On follow-up Rehearsing My Choir, when the world thought you faltered, I understood. It was exactly the album I'd hoped it would be. Instead of ushering us from place to place and character to character, you followed an overarching story arc, always complementing your bombastic verses with such insightful rhythms and real-time tempo shifts that I often wondered if you could strip away the lyrics and still envision the very same outcomes. It didn't matter that you lacked some of the cryptic relatability of other artists; your stories were of their own realm and league. I didn't need to find parallels between my life and that of Olga Sarantos; I understood her plight through the same human empathy that stalls me at the threshold of a coffee shop to hold the door for an elderly woman. Even when I'm in a rush. I was even willing to pardon your one faux-pas, rhyming the words "Kevin", "seven", and "heaven". No one's perfect. (Seriously, though, never do this again!)

Bitter Tea was harder to swallow. It lacked a sonic unity that seemed to gel the other releases, but I eventually formulated my own interpretation, and I would attest that it's perfectly sequenced. Ahead of its time, to boot.

The solo double album was something of a hodgepodge, but I do like Holy Ghost Language School for the same reasons mentioned re: Choir. It tells the story of the world's greatest acid dream. The other album, Winter Women, felt like a cop out, as if you had examined your work to that point, devised some kind of blueprint, and were merely pulling from your bag of tricks to keep fans interested. I did read that interview in which you noted how important it is for bands to feed their audiences, just like the Who had done for you as a teen. You know, how those classic bands weren't governed by marketability and single momentum to further their bodies of work. Eventually, this double album, sans that vixen sister of yours and her oddly alluring pipes, settled in my mind as something worth re-visiting for years to come, even if I didn't feel any sense of immediacy with it.

Sigh. Widow City. First nine songs: a beautiful coalescence of tale and soundtrack. By now, it would bludgeon a dead horse to describe your sound to people. Either they get it or they don't. Some like their tea bitter, some like it sweet, and, in the case of tracks one through nine, I like it zombified. So why amp up and write monstrous anthems to describe subtle moments, and, conversely, musical whispers to describe cataclysms? It's not that I dislike the lyrics, and it's not that I dislike the music (some of your most immediately likeable ever), but forcing together such antithetic sentiments absolutely destroys the charm you've always embodied. When did you forsake your storytelling sensibilities? Why did you forsake your storytelling sensibilities? What went so horribly wrong?

28. M.I.A.: Kala
For what it's worth, I think Maya Arulpragasam is a nut. What I don't know is how much of it hinges on her Sri Lankan upbringing or the circumstances thereof. It's hard for me to think of her without reflecting on her confrontational Pitchfork interview during which she, very unprompted, launched into a schpeel about how Diplo hadn't contributed much to Kala and that she was looking to marry into the United States to further her career. Perhaps the former is a result of the tunnel-visioned media, but the latter is definitely kind of extremist in my view. Of course, I'm assuming that she didn't care whom she married, so long as it would circumvent future issues with work VISAs and border crossings. Whatever.

As to the music, that should be judged purely on its own merits, and Kala is definitely a step forward from 2005's Arular. The biggest leap? The arrangements. Tracks like "Bamboo Banga" have a cumulative build that just didn't seem as present on her first releases. It's not that they lacked rhythmic prowess, but they did find their own patterns and stick to the formula. Here she explores more intuitive compositions, which can't save an album, but they can make it more appealing. What's nice is the exotic feel, too, as there are more perceptively Middle Eastern flourishes and less London club scene. That's not to suggest her adopted UK heritage has been cleansed, but the instrumentation is slightly more varied to coincide with the other changes. Her delivery is veritably the same, and the lyrical content ranges from insightful to critical to downright inane, and even the best moments can be ignored to the non-detriment of the experience. It's not terribly often that I crave alternative dance arrangements, but Kala definitely scratches the itch when the mood is right.

27. Marissa Nadler: Songs III: Bird on the Water
"Holidays are the hardest hours of the year." So sings Nadler on opening track, "Diamond Heart", with such emotional disconnect that it absolutely shatters me. Bird on the Water is not for weak stomachs; it's as cold as the isolation that permeates the whole of the album. Sometimes I can listen to music and feel such an intense chill pass through me, as if my soul has been awoken from a slothful sojourn, but this almost borders on shaking hands with Death. It's desolate, longing, and empty. Oddly, it's a beautiful experience, just not for moments of fragility: it will knock you down a peg. I've often maintained that music is not inherently valuable, but it's the experience of listening to it. It's funny how my mind thinks of the island of lost toys on the classic animated film Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Yes, they would understand Marissa Nadler. Surely.

26. Mirah and Spectratone International: Share This Place: Stories and Observations
If you ask me, concept albums that start to wear thin toward the end are much more appealing than rehashed staples that lack the cojones to bloat the envelope. I genuinely respect Mirah for her sheer audacity, adopting the persona of creepy crawlies to write the quintessential insect soundtrack. Even the song titles wear her authorial intent: "Gestation of the Sacred Beetle"; "Emergence of the Primary Larva"; "Love Song of the Fly". Mirah explores some very human themes, as expressed through the politics of the crumb snatchers and plant pollinators that populate ye olde backyarde and vegetable patches. Share This Place has an eerie baroque vibe, which does become sonically repetitious toward the 47th minute, but taken metaphorically the instrumentation almost hums along like a symphony of critters. And there's ample substance to reward repeat listens. Just as she describes her subjects, Mirah's delivery is instinctually smart, and I would think that anyone who doesn't need to barrage his or her mind with relationship fodder could really glean some fun from this experiment.

25. Alina Simone: Placelessness
Alina Simone is a girl with a guitar and a penchant for belting out her feelings. She never hides behind her voice; instead, she sends it into the trenches like the trumpets of war that command awe in front of insurgents. Stand and be counted. Boss!

24. Panda Bear: Person Pitch
Lemme guess: you've never heard the term acid folk? I'm not a huge Beach Boys fan, even though the indie crowd have canonized the likes of Brian Wilson. In other words, I can't say beyond doubt that he's never written a druggy album about going to war or urging a lover to drop a pill habit, and, if not, Noah Lennox AKA Panda Bear has forever filled that gap in your collection. The results are shockingly compelling, as this is such a sun-drenched musical experience. Sadly, a lot of these songs overstay their welcome, which makes it all kind of mesh together toward the end, much like the beach bum afternoon I envision when I listen to this stuff. It's a great way to escape the winter chill, if your imagination isn't anchored by disbelief.

23. Animal Collective: Strawberry Jam
Experimental Rock visionaries offer a comparatively consistent follow-up to 2005's Feels, but the myth is starting to wear thin. Perhaps I didn't give this one enough chance to settle in my mind. Definitely worthy of mention on this list, however.

22. Caribou: Andorra
This year's most hummable album.

21. Liars: Liars
No, rock is not dead. It's just needed an injection of whatever these guys stuck it with.

20. Battles: Mirrored
If you follow the indie press at all, you've read ample praise for this Math Rock album. In terms of composition, this is quite a masterful behemoth. While it's certainly not a sentimental favourite of mine, this is quite a sonic experience. Some seriously ambitious rhythms.

19. Grand National: A Drink & A Quick Decision
Le catchy Britpop.

18. Gui Boratto: Chromophobia
One of the many brilliant electronic releases this year. It's all about sonic interplay.

17. Sage Francis: Human the Death Dance
This is Sage's safest album to date, but a weak offering from this master poet is still better than most artists' best work, bar none.

16. Radiohead: In Rainbows
It's not that I wanted Radiohead to drop the ball, but I really didn't expect them to release this. When I think of all the bands I retroactively fell in love with, it almost turns my stomach to know that I missed the chance to experience the height of their careers. Sonic Youth, especially. This point is only exacerbated by the fact I live in a rural area that gets few decent concerts, so I didn't even see most of the bands that actually defined my teenage years, let alone the kind I fantasize about now. Still, the fact remains these British lads scored the soundtrack for some of my most fragile, impulsive, piss-and-vinegar moments. Quite adeptly, in fact. Truth be told, Radiohead had waned substantially in relevence to my life. When I listen to albums like The Bends I feel really...old. And I certainly don't care to revisit the angst and depression and confusion that is adolescence, be it via memory or nostalgic plastic discs. (Wink.)

So, what's so great about In Rainbows? For starters, it's not really a Radiohead album but for its sound. That seems like a gratuitously oblique comment to make, but I don't think they've ever explored such honest arrangements. Here they find a strange compromise between the sonic landscapes of Kid A and concise execution of Ok Computer, evidenced by the fact that In Rainbows is, at its core, a guitar album. Where the predecessors were adequately layered, this really doesn't feel like avantgarde gluttony. Like or lump it, Radiohead have certainly pulled a lot of knee-jerk stunts during their career, and they did so to spite the Recording Industry and its fickle musical trends. I can't help but feel this was equally spiteful to the creative process. It's great to explore new sounds--don't get me wrong--but it strikes me as rather insincere to pen songs from random lines drawn from shards of paper in a hat. Some of the greats have done it, but it deprives the music from any real glue. Yorke's vocals can make it compelling, even insightful, but there was more in his enunciation than his message. That's precisely what they started to amend on Hail To The Thief. They seemed to have a motivation in songs like "Sit Down. Stand Up", whereas "Optimistic" was pieced together by Dr. Frankenhead. In Rainbows is very simply an album. It's about time.

15. Deerhoof: Friend Opportunity
The little band that could AKA the world's smallest big band AKA Deerhoof. I've gotten quite accustomed to how polarizing these guys are, and I'd be very impressed if one percent of my entourage actually likes them. Of course, it doesn't really matter. The same could be said for the rest of my listening interests. That notwithstanding, you can call me biased, but I just don't see why Deerhoof doesn't have people swooning. I'm talkin' broken jaw lawsuits. They might be raucous, but their rhythmic prowess and ballsy conviction wins me over every time. They seem like they're always rediscovering their own music, as if it formed of sheer human honesty and manifested itself through their instruments, not their creativity. Much like natural feelings, they ebb and flow with every new moment, constantly upping the sonic ante as if their compositions live and breathe. This time around, things are little more constrained, a little tighter, a little more--dare I say it; here I go--pop. It would be futile to describe Friend Opportunity beyond the fact that it is what it is: expressive. You can decide for yourself whether it's gold or feces, but I tend to lean toward the former.

14. Yesterday's New Quintet: Yesterday's Universe
Motley assortment of Jazz/Fusion tracks under Madlib's many monikers. This album seriously kills, but it can be a little straining on the noggin to ingest in one sitting.

13. Chromatics: IV: Night Drive
It's funny, I received this album in the mail on Halloween, and it couldn't have arrived at a better time. Much like the Knife, Chromatics has a very macabre feel to it, like the film noir of music. It's catchy yet ominous. This is fantastic mood music and great for inspiring other forms of art, be it writing or painting or tribal living room dances.

12. Josh Ritter: The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter
Ritter is a deep brotha, and he writes from the heart. I might have cut about four songs from this disc, but the ones that hit home are very important to me. "Right Moves" could be the soundtrack of the last few months of my life, and "Empty Hearts" very adeptly describes the state of mind that preceded my new Christian life. As I've said in conversation, this was the year that almost destroyed me, and as melodramatic as that might sound, I wholeheartedly believe that God lifted me from ruin right at the brink of it. Ritter understands.

11. Cornelius: Sensuous
If you're unfamiliar with the Shibuya-Kei genre, it's hard for me to explain to you why it completely transcends my ability to describe it. Hopefully the name itself will tickle your curiosity, because this is one seriously exploratively fun album.

10. The Field: From Here We Go Sublime
Progressive trance. One of the best electronic albums I've ever heard. If you like the genre at all, you must hear this stuff. Again, I would struggle to describe its pulse and execution, but it's such an amazing journey to embark on.

9. Strategy: Future Rock
Once again, my inability to describe sound fails me, but I can't sufficiently stress what an experience this album is. Over the course of nine songs, each of which could score a short film, I'm treated to sonic journeys through jungles, wild and urban, barren and lush, and it's as if, as the title implies, future societies are birthed and destroyed in 57 minutes. If you're familiar with groups like Talk Talk, imagine how they'd sound if they dropped some of the organic noises in favour of ambient or dub, remove Mark Hollis's voice (bear with me, okay?), and you'd get Strategy. This is really trippy at times, and I've already compared it in discussions to something akin to a robot porn soundtrack. On paper it sounds a lot more static than it is, and it really comes down to a listener's willingness to bathe in the music and allow mental images to form. The song titles often do more justice to the sonic properties than I could with my limited vocab, as songs like "Windswept (Interlude)" really encapsulate the mostly instrumental Future Rock. One of these days I'm definitely going to have this playing in the background when I work on my novels. Art begets art, as I like to think. Highly recommended.

8. The New Pornographers: Challengers
Carl Newman has a pretty impressive streak going, at least where it concerns my taste. He somehow manages to write about cataclysmic life changes as if they were carnivals, and, dang it all, it works. By all rights, he should probably rank higher on all my lists, but he keeps permitting Dan Bejar, the Christine McVie of the New Pornographers, to contribute songs to the albums. Now, I'm not the type who would encourage people to download music. I don't have any P2P applications installed on my PC. What I can't find through blogs or official sites, I hear after having forked out for the record. Anyway, everyone who reads this must hear "My Rights Versus Yours", "All The Old Showstoppers", "Challengers", "Failsafe", "Unguided", and "Go Places". There are other tracks that rock more, but these penetrate deeper. So let it be known that, as it was in the past, this one ranks higher than it ought to on the strength of just a handful of songs. But the impact they've had on me can't be overstated. Oh you Canadian romantics, you.

7. Dan Deacon: Spiderman of the Rings
I recently saw a Canadian (propaganda/pride/same thing?) commercial with a brief Mike Myers interview. Myers (AKA Austin Powers/Dr. Evil/same person?) quoted his father as saying that nothing in life is so serious it can't be laughed at.

What did your mind first think of when you read the gist of that statement? Did you ponder green skulls, the kind that might adorn Dan Deacon's soundboard? Or did you think of funerals and the nasty letter your ex wrote you in a moment of incensed passion? While I haven't reached a verdict on Myers's hypothesis, I do think Dan Deacon's Spiderman of the Rings is one heck of a fun album. I might even argue that whimsy is precisely what makes indie music so fantastic.

When I was a teen, I had so many chips on my shoulders they must have looked like abused antique furniture. I was the kind of guy who would spend hours trying to decipher Michael Stipe or Thom Yorke lyrics. I guess there's nothing wrong with that, except for the eventual burnout from incessantly trying to glean significance from music; I half wonder if I wasn't in fact imposing meaning on my teenage soundtrack instead of merely discovering authorial intent in those verses. Then you have Dan Deacon. He's the guy who doesn't need to get drunk at the party to don the lampshade. He's the artist whose compositions inspire happy-go-lucky fools to volunteer Dr. Evil impersonations on the street, regardless of how many strangers roll their eyes. Take "Wham City", the album's standout track, which is an 11-minute opus about, well, nothing. Sonically, it starts off as a handclappy twee sing-along, evolving into a veritable Huck Finn raft ride before it coasts to the shore in a fun but deranged outro. The rest of the album promises just as much kaleidoscopic fun without making you OD on sonic cotton candy.

I'm not saying life is explicitly funny or maudlin, but I'm glad I've grown to appreciate the simple bursts of humanity that radio seldom embraces. It might be easy to shrug it off when singers like Avey Tare meow, or when Björk feels such a jolt of emotion that she launches into an excited shriek, but we've all felt that way before, and I see no need to censor these emotive deliverances. I guess we are subject to second childhoods, after all.

6. Menomena: Friend and Foe
This album confuses me. My inner critic is quick to note that it encapsulates virtually every indie stereotype that emerged over the past few years, and yet it manages to hold my interest start to finish. Strange as it might sound, the vocals are the most enigmatic component. Depending on the track, I hear traces of Roger Waters, Wayne Coyne, and even group chants that approach an Animal Collective kind of aesthetic. If there's one thing I can't fault musically it's the tempo; there's a seductive property at work, as if the whole album were some kind of sonic foreplay that churns along with such conviction that you expect a climax that never comes. And yet, it's in this longing experience that I don't feel disappointed. To actually describe the music would be an exercise in futility, and I can't say whether time will solidify Friend and Foe as a fluke or an ascending star.

5. Joanna Newsom: Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band
I don't want to suggest that everything she touches turns to gold, but it's getting to the point where I might shift the burden of proof onto dissenters instead of fans. Not only does Newsom tickle a harp with the conviction of an old soul, but she sings as one. Her verses are akin to experimental Tennyson, heavy on imagery but a little less indulgent. There's only one new song on this EP, "Colleen", whose namesake protagonist is cursed to forget everything, and it's quite heartbreaking to see the challenges she faces, almost like the ordeal Pete Townshend expresses via Tommy's amazing journey on the Who's 1969 rock opera. Newsom invites a backing band to rework one song from each of her full-lengths, and there's a certain off-the-cuff organism that manifests in these new takes. Not much material time-wise, but Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band is thick in substance.

By the way, Ys is not a pluralized letter but a city name that rhymes with the Springsteen comparison. Kind of like the middle portion of the word yeast. (Admit it, you were curious.)

4. Björk: Volta
There's a history here that bears mention, as those who've talked music with me over the past, well, decade, will likely remember how vehemently I spoke out against Björk, previously declaring her a no-talent hack whose voice could induce glass to shatter of its own volition, if not for the sake of sonic resonance. I should probably add that, to my recollection (and shame), I had largely based that assessment on one song I saw on MTV in the mid-1990s. In short, I thought she was arrogant to the point of being offensive. Chalk it up to maturity, but when I stumbled across the Volta artwork, my disgust for Björk was reignited. The problem was, it was now 2007 and I couldn't remember a single track of hers, including the one that had curdled my stomach before. (Anticipating your question: "It's Oh So Quiet" from the Post album.) This being the age of the Internet, I had blogs and search engines at my disposal, so I saw little harm in treating myself to a reminder, as I felt a strange urge to rekindle for myself why I disliked her, and, surely, with another 10 years of intellectualism and experiences, I could do more justice to my original sentiment. This is where I met a humble-pie-binge of a dilemma.

I thought time would have festered her catalogue, that her hodgepodge collection of albums would have only decayed further over years of maggot feasting. What I found instead was an artist who embodied the very principle and personification of conviction. In her old videos, as representative of her first batch of solo releases, I discovered a groundbreaking blend of conflicting genres into such a beautiful hybrid of soul and Electronica. Even worse, I loved her voice, the driving force behind her intuitively honest lyrics, which had previously been the most identifiable stumbling block, the thing that must have acted as proof positive that her fans were tasteless saps. From your vantage, you probably couldn't have heard my Adam's apple recoiling into my oesophagus as I choked on my own pride, but there was no way I could further allow myself to not invest in her music. It would define 2007 for me, just as Sonic Youth had done the previous year.

So what's so wonderful about Volta? Very simply, Volta is. The production and arrangements are self-contained, as evidenced in the opener, "Earth Intruders". With sweeping synths and jungle beats, the song could score a wordless alien invasion, as the frequencies find a strange way of mimicking the gravity of realizing we aren't alone in the universe. To describe it in words is to do injustice to the song, and the same might be said of the album's remainder.

I can certainly understand why most of my entourage still couldn't sit through this album, but if you were to understand the way my listening mind works, the pieces all fit. I find in Björk the same guttural, downright ballsy approach that bands like Animal Collective and Deerhoof express in place of self-revealing lyrics. These other bands rely on the primal urges within their loins, expressing their base and complex feelings through the conviction of every note their play. Björk does just this, except with the occasional cute mispronunciation and heck of a lot more zeal for the ideas she tries to convey. In case it's unclear, I've also fallen in love with "It's Oh So Quiet". Funny what an honest approach and an open mind can unlock.

3. Various Artists (Italians Do It Better): After Dark
Like certain drugs, it's easy to OD on Electroclash. It seems high flutin' to cast an entire genre in such light, but a rudimentary dissection of its sonic properties just seems like a blueprint for smarminess. Percussive beats, vague lyrics, synths; it's faux-disco, really. And yet, there's something magical that emerges when a composer's sensibilities transcend the groundwork, which is precisely the type of roster the keeners at Italians Do It Better have culled together. Take Glass Candy's "Computer Love", a thematically amateur song that paints the scene you'd expect: a lonely recluse bathing in radiation on a Saturday night, while the rest of humanity has a life. The mood is anxious, a nervous anticipation for acknowledgement from a name on the screen that never indulges. The whole album sounds like the soundtrack of an acid film noir, and it's strikingly compelling. Even the instrumental tracks manage to convey a sense of character, such as Professor Genius's "La Grotta". There's a 3-d world to explore amidst the synths that creep up, explode, and vanish behind city blocks, just as sirens or drive-by shootings leave a sonic retina burn in the mind's speakers.

After Dark is a great debut for up and comers like Farah, who've yet to release anything substantial. But it's the A-list that shines brightest. Veterans like Chromatics and Glass Candy offer up some of their most nail-biting songs to date, "In the City" and 'Miss Broadway", respectively. The former could score the life of a serial killer; the latter sounds like an illegitimate lovechild spawned by Joy Division and ABBA. "Miss Broadway" teems with life, venturing into the disco-punk scene of 70s New York before emerging more cynical than before.

This compilation wasn't supposed to succeed the way it does--heck, some of the tracks are demos--but, by the time the final beat settles in your mind, there's a certain residual perversion that will take more than a few showers to cleanse, a certain cloud that seems to linger beyond its welcome. As much as you might want it to vanish beneath the horizon, you just can't help looking skyward and wondering how something as pure as water (or something as malleable as the human spirit) was made so dark through existence. Whether it's empathy or fear, it's a gripping fascination that just keeps me revisiting.

2. Au Revoir Simone: The Bird of Music
Put simply, The Bird of Music is a collection of diary entries we've all been too cynical to write.

1. Jesca Hoop: Kismet
When reviewing music, there are a few inescapable truths. For starters, there's no way to interpret any art form objectively. Let's immediately cross that off the list of requisites. Also, it seems inherent on the writer to describe the sonic properties to readers, so they might infer whether this album or that could find a suitable place on their CD racks. I will sadly fall flat in this area, too, because Kismet is an instrumental kaleidoscope. Much like Björk, Jesca Hoop adeptly christens a multitude of hybrid genres, and I simply don't have the time or gusto to decipher them all. Am I dynamic enough to invent even one? Hmm... Ouija Rock. Anyway, the sheer intricacy of this collection is in and of itself a wonderful experience, but the glue is the songwriting. Very simply, it's kismet, occasionally striking some resonant groove that comprises equal parts Cardigans, dancehall, lounge, and Keith Richards's swagger. Not to sound sexist, but I've never associated the term swagger with women. I used to interpret women who were possessed of swagger as being seductive, because semantics are funny like that. Jesca very simply has swagger. It's like the confidence of a fortune teller who actually sees images at the crystal's centre. That's the kind of magic that permeates these songs.

Album opener "Summertime" rises with the dawn, as a lush guitar riff that flirts note after note over distant cawing. It gradually gains momentum, describing scenes of corn field daydreaming and water conservation. From there she reinvents a song from her 2004 demo disc, which was previously available for something like $4 through her website. "Seed of Wonder" is not only a lyrical masterpiece, perfectly strung like a web Charlotte might spin, but it has one of the most groovy, unstoppable rhythms I've heard in a long time. It's almost worthy of classic R&B comparisons, but I probably shouldn't venture into that territory. I was a little sceptic when I heard a 30-second clip, as this was the song that propelled her star into a state of ascension when she was a budding artist in Los Angeles under Tom Waits's wing. (He would eventually describe her music as swimming in a pool at night. I would eventually agree, once I heard it.)

Jesca then slows the pace with "Enemy", a bittersweet vocal gem that describes the torn relationship between antagonists, only instead of dwelling on the opposing forces, she beautifully touches on how antitheses inherently need one another for their own, self-motivated purposes. Other album highlights include the dark, faux-dancehall "Money", which is as catchy as it is cynical. Still, in spite of its tone, she can't keep her cuteness from seeping into every second. "Havoc In Heaven" is particularly compelling, and I didn't even notice it claim the top spot in my Last.fm profile, likely due to its regularity during her live sets and the fact that it's graced all her official releases but the "Summertime" single. There's also a Hurricane Katrina-inspired ballad that reads like a sappy number, but the way she sings it is oddly sea shanty, and it really paints a new face on what might otherwise be her weakest lyrical outing.

Truthfully, I thought it kind of boisterous to name an album Kismet, but then I listened to it in context and understood why I had spent so much time waiting for Jesca Hoop's first proper release: It fills the shoes it promises.

Virtues Part 2: Compassion

2007-12-12T22:50:00.000-04:00

I can't believe it's only been 22 days since I switched from the King James Bible to the New International Version. Not to dwell on sheer numbers, but I've been reading at a staggering pace ever since. In the month leading up the switch, I read the book of Genesis, approximately 50 pages, which I understandably crawled through. The first chapter of that book presents some very grandiose truths, and I balanced those studies with other books that I read concurrently and completed quite aggressively. I had previously struggled with many of those concepts as a scientifically-inclined student, and I've no doubt that my acceptance of Creation was probably a bigger revelation for me than any of the historical data contained in the books I've read since: Exodus through Ezra (approx. 350 pages). In three weeks. Strangely, I took most of last week off from scripture; last week was brutal on my spirit.

That notwithstanding, it's quite clear that a modern English version has enabled me to bypass some of the Middle English hurdles that were stunting my progress, but there are advantages to both editions. For one thing, reading the Bible at a slower pace enables more time to reflect on individual passages, which I surely did for the book of Genesis. The problem was, of course, that I was spending just as much time on the language itself as I was on the message, and there are some words that are so easily misinterpreted. I guess I've gotten rusty since I left university, as my Milton and Shakespeare days are long behind me in practice. Conversely, the NIV is easily understood, which enables me to read much faster, and I might second guess just how conscientiously I'm considering the subtler points. Either way, here's something that struck me about a day after I first read it:

Ezra 1: 1-4
1 In the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, in order to fulfill the word of the LORD spoken by Jeremiah, the LORD moved the heart of Cyrus king of Persia to make a proclamation throughout his realm and to put it in writing:

2 "This is what Cyrus king of Persia says:
" 'The LORD, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth and he has appointed me to build a temple for him at Jerusalem in Judah. 3 Anyone of his people among you—may his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem in Judah and build the temple of the LORD, the God of Israel, the God who is in Jerusalem. 4 And the people of any place where survivors may now be living are to provide him with silver and gold, with goods and livestock, and with freewill offerings for the temple of God in Jerusalem.' "

I've read so much so quickly that the significance of these lines might have almost been lost to me. Another thing is that I've become so accepting of the gospel that I seldom wrestle with it anymore, and that has always been my biggest motivator in terms of posting here. As I sat down to read a few moments ago, God poked me on the shoulder and stopped me. So here I am, and these verses are quite special indeed. But let's get you non-believers caught up on the goings on in Israel.

Remember how I said my heart had been softened to God's judgment in the Old Testament? How I used to only focus on how God unleashed wrath onto those who sinned gratuitously and figuratively spat in His face? Well, it happened for many generations in Israel, following the death of King Solomon. (Incidentally, he too turned away from the LORD and worshipped some of the pagan gods of his wives.) It reached a point where the Hebrews had committed so many atrocious crimes against God that He delivered them into the hands of the Babylonians. They were held captive away from their promised land for several decades, and that's why they needed to be emancipated. Now then, what's so important about that stuff? Well, before I get to that, let's first consider the atheistic or agnostic argument.

Suppose for a moment you don't believe in any of the miracles described in Genesis, Exodus, or any other book of the Bible. Suppose also you don't believe in the God that performed them through chosen people. I trust that you do believe that our world has a history and that the kingdoms of Israel and Babylon did exist in antiquity, just as you would pick up last week's newspaper and believe that there were snow storms in parts of the country you don't inhabit. Fair statement? I thought so.

So then, why does history record any king of any nation that suddenly decides to release his slaves, the people who till his fields and perform any number of duties, so that they might return to their promised land and build a temple in the name of the God of heaven? Why would he also be compelled to fund this expedition, including the cost of reconstruction? What logic is there in that? Absolutely none, my friend. None at all. Actually, sound judgment was well represented by the governors of Judah, those who served the king in the respective province of Israel to which the Israelites were returning.

Ezra 4: 8-16
8 Rehum the commanding officer and Shimshai the secretary wrote a letter against Jerusalem to Artaxerxes the king as follows:

9 Rehum the commanding officer and Shimshai the secretary, together with the rest of their associates—the judges and officials over the men from Tripolis, Persia, ^[e] Erech and Babylon, the Elamites of Susa, 10 and the other people whom the great and honorable Ashurbanipal ^[f] deported and settled in the city of Samaria and elsewhere in Trans-Euphrates.

11 (This is a copy of the letter they sent him.)
To King Artaxerxes,
From your servants, the men of Trans-Euphrates:

12 The king should know that the Jews who came up to us from you have gone to Jerusalem and are rebuilding that rebellious and wicked city. They are restoring the walls and repairing the foundations.

13 Furthermore, the king should know that if this city is built and its walls are restored, no more taxes, tribute or duty will be paid, and the royal revenues will suffer. 14 Now since we are under obligation to the palace and it is not proper for us to see the king dishonored, we are sending this message to inform the king, 15 so that a search may be made in the archives of your predecessors. In these records you will find that this city is a rebellious city, troublesome to kings and provinces, a place of rebellion from ancient times. That is why this city was destroyed. 16 We inform the king that if this city is built and its walls are restored, you will be left with nothing in Trans-Euphrates.

Now, as you know, I'm not one to refute God's will, but I can't dispute the logic presented in that letter. Neither could that king, in fact. Cyrus had passed away, and King Artaxerxes replied in accordance with their advice. He halted production of the temple, and it wasn't until Darius became king of Babylon that the Israelites resumed work on the temple. Again the governors of that region protested, but there was nothing they could do until they had heard a response from the king. But this time, instead of merely consulting his advisers, the king found a scroll in the archives of Babylon that recorded Cyrus's earlier decree. The Israelites were permitted to finish work on the Temple of the LORD.

So, aside from God's grace, why would the Babylonians show compassion to the Israelites when Babylon stood only to lose commodities, taxes, and slaves? In terms of sheer logic, this is a much more significant statement than when Israelites heed God's will; they were raised in the belief that God delivered them from slavery in the first place. They were freed from Egypt, as history also records, and survived in awful conditions for 40 years, which is in itself miraculous. Not to dwell so much on the mystical side, but how else could any of these events be described?

As I further my studies on this subject, I discover just how quickly and dramatically the evidence piles up to support the authenticity of the Christian faith. Of course, the transformation inside me and my personal experiences are what compel me the most, but how silly would you have to be to contend none of this is true? Why, you'd need to refute, if not entirely shatter, world history, logic, etc. And, honestly, if you're out to destroy logic, why should I listen to you in the first place? (Hint: Because of God's compassion, once again. Just don't misconstrue it as doubt.)

Baptastic!

2007-12-10T16:49:00.000-04:00

Ye olde video evidence: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mevb5hVYgc

Hehe, you can almost see the salt on my face. Hard to believe it's only been 10 days.

Thanks again to Scott Muise for editing and sending me the video so that it might be shared with you. Testimonies aren't worth much if you bottle them.

Peeling Back the Layers

2007-12-04T00:55:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I gave my mind a rest and barely read any scripture. It feels weird to do that, especially after all the momentum I had gathered over the past couple weeks. For a while, I was averaging almost a book of the Old Testament every one to two days. I even recall two Saturdays ago when I dedicated most of the day to reading my Bible. I paused to watch a hockey game and felt guilty for doing so. Surely, I thought, after wasting 27 years ignoring the LORD, it was time to focus. And so I did for the next eight days. Aside from work, I barely passed any miscellaneous time on non-scriptural pursuits, this blog and sleep notwithstanding. But then I realized a few things over the last couple days.

First, it occurred to me that while I have shared the joy of knowing Christ with many people, I haven't really volunteered it. I have spoken to several non-Christians about my faith, how I do have a peace of mind about me, how I do sense God's presence with me. I've spoken to people about how I've eliminated vices from my life, how easy it was to cut a lot of foolish, vain pursuits from my life. Honestly, the fact that I haven't lost interest in updating this blog is something that speaks volumes to me. You might not appreciate it, but I am utterly terrible at maintaining things like this. I just lose interest.

I'm the guy who always bought a shiny new day planner at the beginning of every school year, the guy who never sauntered to class without first digging my nose in that thing. For about a month or so. At the end of the year, I'd find it buried beneath a pile of scrap papers or junk mail somewhere in my apartment. To flip through it, you'd see a lot of blue ink for the first several pages, and then nothing but white. No entries. Nothing.

I treated relationships the same way. It seemed like every year, I found intellectual companions in my classes. I made some profound connections with people. But, just as it is with my work, I never endeavoured to know them outside the class environment. I never had the courage to approach them as me the person, even though me the classmate could relate to the very same people. Even worse, the ones who failed to challenge my intellect were the ones that were the easiest to leave at the curb. I treat everything that way. I've never been able to maintain interest in any job I've ever had--even the creative ones. At some point, it becomes mechanical, just like scripture was starting to feel yesterday.

I caught myself being my old self: locked in a room with four walls and a mind that feels like a jittery firefighter's hose. That's how my mind has always worked. It's non-stop. Without something to channel it, my mind is no different than those exaggerated little jokes in animated sitcoms. It's like I'm attached to a hydrant with no guiding hands to channel me, and I just flail about mentally. When I have a mentor who understands me, these things can be controlled. In the past, substances have served to cut the water and allow me to just coast on any idea I would choose. Of course, now that those forms of sabotage are gone, I'm having to actually heal these issues. And so I realized yesterday that, for the most part, my Christian experience has been very solitary to this point. Just me in a room with a book. Alone. Stuck with my thoughts again. It even occurred to me that I act the same way in God's house, not just mine. I've made friendships there. Even volunteered for a few things. But I have yet to actually approach someone or speak to another member that didn't approach me first. I'm still an observer, just like I was as a child.

I was sick a lot as a child. I didn't even realize at the time how strange I seemed to some people. I missed a lot of classes for a variety of treatments. The big ones were asthma and epilepsy, but I also had eczema, which left pretty severe rashes on my hands and face. It was only after I had outgrown these things that my then best friend dared tell me just how digusting I appeared to the other kids. Funny thing was I hadn't noticed. I always knew I was different; heck, I was a foot taller than most of my earliest classmates at one point. But even back then, I existed in my head. I was scatterbrained and something of a dreamer. Most of my life was vicarious, and that hasn't changed.

I don't mean to knock those who struggle with things like alcohol, but for me to give up anything physical for the sake of becoming a church member, pfft. That stuff's all minor to me. The real battleground is invisible. All in my head. And you know what? I could probably get away with not addressing that for the rest of my life. What I can't do is allow it. And what I don't know is how to change any of this stuff. I've always understood the notion that ignorance is bliss, but since all I've ever had were the things I observed, I've been deathly afraid of ignorance. I'm utterly incapable of deciding something without considering every outcome I've observed in other people. Ironically, I have it on good authority that others have misinterpreted my intensely unflappable hesitation as being a strong foundation. I've been told by people who I really thought understood me that I'm the "grounded one" in their entourage. If I weren't stuck on integrity and perfection, I'd be thrilled to accept that kind of compliment. Sadly, I can't.

I don't know if my desire to be perfect stems from an early and subtle understanding of how imperfect I was. But that's how I approach everything I take seriously. I need to be perfect at it, and I need to make it as perfect as I can. Little wonder I've got such a rabid streak of missed opportunities to my credit. But this is what I need God to heal in me, and whether I accomplish anything at all by typing it here, I felt inclined to share it. Maybe someone will read this and want to serve as some kind of accountability partner for me. What did I do this week to spread the gospel, kind of thing, instead of just leeching it all for myself. The funny thing is, I actually reached a point where I thought I was being the good soldier by sheltering myself from others. If I have it in me to leech the life out of a situation, then let me project it inward and not consume anyone's energies. Makes me wish Satan had something visible like alcohol to leverage over me. That, to my own ignorance, would seem like a much easier hurdle to jump.

I'll end this with a few passages that were written after me own heart. I read these before I fell asleep Sunday night (wee Monday, to be fair). I still think knowledge is power, but I no longer think knowledge is everything. It certainly hasn't rendered my life perfect, at least not the kind of knowledge I've gathered to this point. But, as people will sometimes ask you, if you could meet anyone alive or dead, who would it be. For now, I have a new human hero, King Solomon. He asked God for precisely what I would have. The question of the hour: could I even have handled it?

1 Kings 3: 5-9 "At Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon during the night in a dream, and God said, "Ask for whatever you want me to give you."

6 Solomon answered, "You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart. You have continued this great kindness to him and have given him a son to sit on his throne this very day.

7 "Now, O LORD my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. 8 Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. 9 So give your servant a discerning heart..."

1 December 2007

2007-12-01T22:54:00.000-04:00

The great thing about Christianity is that every new day is an opportunity to make it the best and most important of your life. God is just that vital and alive. On most days I simply take all my progress forward and add increments to it. Some days God calls me to do something, whether it be to help someone or share my happiness. Other days I spend mostly by myself and read scripture. But I'm always the better for any of these scenarios.

Today, however, I was led to one of the defining moments of every believer's journey; the J-dawg was baptized. I must acknowledge a few things here.

I should first mention that I was ceremoniously baptized around the fragile age of two weeks. I trust that my parents did this on my behalf with all the good intentions that apply, but I don't share in the belief that any God-centric testimony is genuine when the person offering it doesn't even know God. Heck, I didn't know the alphabet. Or my own name. What a name was. (You get the picture.)

When I attended a membership class at the Wesleyan church a few weeks ago, they noted that baptism is one of the membership requirements; that it was a testimony before Jesus Christ and all those present that you've accepted Christ as your personal saviour and that you believe He paid the debt of your sins, as well as those of all men and women; that most people describe it as a life-affirming gesture to God. That, I can assure you, has nothing to do with the water that was poured on my head when I was a baby.

So I asked the pastoral staff if I could be baptized post-conversion. They answered in the affirmative. There was a bit of a hurdle, though, if anyone cares to call it that: because our church will be offering a series of performances over the next few weeks, the stage would have no room for the tub they typically use to baptize new believers. Seeing as none of us was willing to wait until the set came down, this would mean doing the deed outdoors. Pastor Jim had the idea of videotaping it. I was happy to oblige. (Stay tuned over the coming days for a video link. I must needs secure a copy, of course.)

Thanks go out to all those who volunteered their time today to further God's kingdom and my progress as a brother to all those who serve Jesus Christ: Matt Bourque, for planting seeds in my head over the last 10 years; Pastor AJ, whose work for God helped to open my eyes during said membership class; Pastor Jim, Senior Pastor AKA the Big Kahuna; Julia, AJ's wife, our camera tech during the proceedings.

Today the wind made our bodies feel something to the effect of -14 Centigrade. But our spirits were eternal flames. In other words, you gotta try it!

My New Purpose (Scriptural)

2007-11-30T16:22:00.000-04:00

As a complement to yesterday's post, I will liberally borrow from God's word and post this entire chapter, 1 Samuel 12:

Samuel said to all Israel, "I have listened to everything you said to me and have set a king over you. 2 Now you have a king as your leader. As for me, I am old and gray, and my sons are here with you. I have been your leader from my youth until this day. 3 Here I stand. Testify against me in the presence of the LORD and his anointed. Whose ox have I taken? Whose donkey have I taken? Whom have I cheated? Whom have I oppressed? From whose hand have I accepted a bribe to make me shut my eyes? If I have done any of these, I will make it right."

4 "You have not cheated or oppressed us," they replied. "You have not taken anything from anyone's hand."

5 Samuel said to them, "The LORD is witness against you, and also his anointed is witness this day, that you have not found anything in my hand."
"He is witness," they said.

6 Then Samuel said to the people, "It is the LORD who appointed Moses and Aaron and brought your forefathers up out of Egypt. 7 Now then, stand here, because I am going to confront you with evidence before the LORD as to all the righteous acts performed by the LORD for you and your fathers.

8 "After Jacob entered Egypt, they cried to the LORD for help, and the LORD sent Moses and Aaron, who brought your forefathers out of Egypt and settled them in this place.

9 "But they forgot the LORD their God; so he sold them into the hand of Sisera, the commander of the army of Hazor, and into the hands of the Philistines and the king of Moab, who fought against them. 10 They cried out to the LORD and said, 'We have sinned; we have forsaken the LORD and served the Baals and the Ashtoreths. But now deliver us from the hands of our enemies, and we will serve you.' 11 Then the LORD sent Jerub-Baal, ^[a] Barak, ^[b] Jephthah and Samuel, ^[c] and he delivered you from the hands of your enemies on every side, so that you lived securely.

12 "But when you saw that Nahash king of the Ammonites was moving against you, you said to me, 'No, we want a king to rule over us'-even though the LORD your God was your king. 13 Now here is the king you have chosen, the one you asked for; see, the LORD has set a king over you. 14 If you fear the LORD and serve and obey him and do not rebel against his commands, and if both you and the king who reigns over you follow the LORD your God-good! 15 But if you do not obey the LORD, and if you rebel against his commands, his hand will be against you, as it was against your fathers.

16 "Now then, stand still and see this great thing the LORD is about to do before your eyes! 17 Is it not wheat harvest now? I will call upon the LORD to send thunder and rain. And you will realize what an evil thing you did in the eyes of the LORD when you asked for a king."

18 Then Samuel called upon the LORD, and that same day the LORD sent thunder and rain. So all the people stood in awe of the LORD and of Samuel.

19 The people all said to Samuel, "Pray to the LORD your God for your servants so that we will not die, for we have added to all our other sins the evil of asking for a king."

20 "Do not be afraid," Samuel replied. "You have done all this evil; yet do not turn away from the LORD, but serve the LORD with all your heart. 21 Do not turn away after useless idols. They can do you no good, nor can they rescue you, because they are useless. 22 For the sake of his great name the LORD will not reject his people, because the LORD was pleased to make you his own. 23 As for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD by failing to pray for you. And I will teach you the way that is good and right. 24 But be sure to fear the LORD and serve him faithfully with all your heart; consider what great things he has done for you. 25 Yet if you persist in doing evil, both you and your king will be swept away."

You can't tell me God isn't merciful. You very simply can't.

My New Purpose

2007-11-29T20:07:00.000-04:00

If I'm to believe the reports, voter turnout in Canada is very unhealthy. Especially among the younger generation. While this is quite sad in a political sense, I really appreciate the fact that many people who turn their backs to politics don't vote ignorantly--that is, based on their perception of parties or candidates. To use a fairly universal example, I know a tonne of people who hate President Bush but couldn't cite many of his poor decisions. What has happened is this: many of us have a reached a point of such diluted attention spans that we allow vignette news stories to decide opinions for us. I would have much more respect for someone who reads all the party platforms and votes against my principles than someone who votes with me ignorantly. Not only is it ludicrous to prostrate ourselves to public opinion; it's also very dangerous. I would even go as far as to cite it as the paramount flaw with democracy. Those who educate themselves have equal say as those who don't. This will never make sense to me, and it has nothing to do with political affiliations and everything to do with the culture of ignorance that has filtered into our countries. Would people even be concerned with the environment if it weren't trendy? Clearly not. If that were the case, we would have sought renewable energy solutions a long time ago.

What prompted to me write this? Why, my scriptural reading over the past week and a half. I've already noted that I still find it surreal when I stop and compare myself with my old life. It really shames me that a lot of my previous Biblical knowledge was a diluted account of the actual text. "Hey, did you know that it says this or that in the Bible? Isn't that ridiculous? God is such a vengeful miser. Yadda yadda." Quite honestly, if you only zoom in on certain passages, that's a pretty fair conclusion. But consider for a moment how fair the world would be if we tried criminal suspects that way. What if we chose to take a tunnel-visioned approach and just hear the testimony of one side? Would that enable us to sentence anyone fairly? No. But as soon as God is the one on trial--as if we could ever have a right to try the loving Being who created us and all that surrounds us--people seem willing to conclude things based on the testimony of liberal agenda pushers and the PC police.

In the last week and a half, I've read from Exodus to Judges, which I'll finish later this evening. I've seen the true versions of many paraphrased portions that once served as hurdles between my intellectual mind and my willingness to submit to God. What I invariably conclude, in all of these seemingly extreme outcomes, is that humanity is always the first to offend. If you believe the scripture, and I certainly do, none of us would be here were it not for Noah, who found favour in God's eyes amidst a world of detestable sin. God felt compelled to destroy it all, just as I would if I were to create a people that would eventually come to represent everything I abhor. But surrounded by countless awful deeds was a man who acted in accordance with God's will, at least as it had been conveyed to that point. And so God chose to spare him and repopulate the world with his descendants.

Fast forward to Exodus (and forgive my lack of citations, for now). It would be easy for a rational thinker to sympathize with the Egyptians. Even if you want to discount the fact that Noah's descendants were oppressed by these people, you could argue that God might have tried to soften their hearts instead of making them the token guinea pig during the life of Moses. But that's not what happened. They were punished in accordance with their crimes. They enslaved God's people, and He acted quite dutifully in releasing Israel from Pharaoh's iron grip. And then Israel lived happily ever after? Not at all, my friend. After witnessing miracle after miracle, receiving blessing after blessing, Israel griped and moaned. Everything was provided for them, and yet they always seemed inclined to cry out to God as if to say, "Yes, LORD, You have done much for us. But we think we might be convinced if we had just one more olive branch as a testimony of Your love."

I guess you need to read it all to understand, but this seems so fickle to me. We are very fortunate that Jesus Christ came to earth as a man and paid the debt for all our sin, effectively creating a ladder for us to get into Heaven. Of course, it rests on the individual to climb it, but it's there. Of course, just as voter interest has been diluted over the years, so has the contingency of faithful. Our laws have been glossed over with generic versions of their old selves. It saddens me that even if we could behold the types of Old Testament miracles I've been reading about, we'd still probably fall from grace. I mean, God's acts are so beyond any scientific technology we could develop that you'd think people would have forever raised their children to bow down to His grace. Again, not at all. As soon as compelling leaders like Joseph son of Jacob or Moses or Joshua passed away, people lost their faith. Makes you wonder if it was even God they revered in the first place, or was it the human representatives He chose?

As people drifted from God's will, God continued to provide. The books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy describe many a law and covenant that God handed down so we might have ways to demonstrate our love to Him. Some seem almost cultish (the sacrifice of burnt offerings, for instance), but who are we to question the offerings He requested, when exchange we stood to gain eternal life?

Suppose it were possible to speak to the old me again. If you were to describe to him the process of making a sin offering, without any of the surrounding info, he would have thought God quite an adept cult leader. Thanks to God's grace and forgiveness, none of which I deserved, I've changed my stance on these rituals. I see them as further offerings, as I describe above. Instead of expecting perfection, God provided Israel with very visual, very methodical ways of demonstrating their obedience. I used to think that God was the mean and Christ was the kind one. Christ's ministry was very forgiving and restorative, at least from the side of the coin. I've no doubt that when you stand in front of Him and are judged for the way you live, He returns the same verdict God would. But what I didn't appreciate until I actually read the Bible for myself was just how generous Old Testament God is. We all get tempted. We all have sinful thoughts. But God saw beyond these and offered a cumulative set of ways to atone for our increasingly evil deeds.

Why do so many non-believers twist this grace into anything sinister? Because, as I used to feel, it's in our nature to want to live for ourselves. We are all inclined to selfishness. But I've learned over the last several weeks, cleansing oneself much more rewarding. It's not an easy process, but it leaves me feeling complete. I have God's presence with me whenever I choose to acknowledge it. My days are populated with prayer, even little blurbs here and there, when something goes well or when I feel myself in need of patience. I hand over all that is good and bad in my life to the LORD, and He reciprocates every time, whether it be in erasing my doubts or depressions or offering new blessings. Sometimes I'm not meant to have what I want, and He helps to erase those empty desires. There is a time for all these things, and I see that.

But man, does it ever tick me off when I read how generation after generation of people who saw much more visual signs of God's grace were still stubborn. They were still willing to submit to earthly idols admist irrefutable signs of God's authority. Call me a radical, but I've come to the point where I know what God's intent is: it's to gather all His people into His kingdom. I've also come to another realization: those who refuse, especially to the extremity I read about in Judges, get what they deserve.

I can't explain why I've been given so many chances to walk God's path, and I certainly don't consider myself any better than any person who ever lived. I wouldn't take the aggressive approach with people on the fence, and I hope my comments will be limited to the people described in the gospel. I believe in the principle of helping people mend their lives, not throwing the book at them. It just really bugs me when people think they've been given the short end because these are the ones who fit the classic definition of insanity: trying to same thing multiple times and expecting different results. That was me. I tried to live for myself and lay claim to all my deeds and accomplishments, and none of them ever left me with a feeling of satisfaction. Now that my eyes have been opened, I could kick the old me in the neck.

The thing is, though, don't let anyone tell you who to worship or how to vote. Especially me. Take the onus upon yourself to know the basis of every word you breathe and every action you take. If you aren't genuinely satisfied with your life, try something else. Even if you need to take another five steps before trying to know the LORD, don't settle for an unsatisfying life.

Now then, my purpose: I will defend with every ounce of my intellect the scripture I once scorned. That's one of the reasons my updates have been so sparse laterly; I'm trying to read every book of the gospel so that I might familiarize myself with it. I feel like a new kitten that was adopted into a large house. First I must sniff my way through each room (i.e. each book) to know what's inside. Once I know where things are, I can seek them out as need warrants. I must learn where my figurative dish is, the coziest spots to rest, the parts to seek when I need comfort. And yes, even where my litter box is.

It will likely take a lifetime of study to even begin to wrap my little brain around the subtler points, but for now I will satisfy myself to just know the story and where things are. Whatever insight God chooses to plant into my head, I will share it with you. It's just become very apparent that a lot of these stories intertwine with one another. There are cumulative things that lead to certain acts or situations, and it seems evermore closed-minded for me to wrestle with things on a micromagerial level. Of course, I seldom feel the need to rebel against any of the Word, so that too is a great comfort to me. I believe every ounce of what I've read thus far, and if my testimony is worth anything to you, then there you have it. But don't just accept it; read these books for yourself. We are none of us entitled to an opinion on something we don't understand. No exceptions.

God is Working Much Faster Than I Could Have Expected

2007-11-23T22:11:00.000-04:00

NEW VERSION OF THIS POST:

Tonight I started to read the book of Leviticus. Before I comment on my thoughts about the first few chapters, please allow me to post some overarching thoughts about Exodus.

The book of Exodus was quite an exhilerating read for me... at first. The more I delve into scripture, the more vividly it appears in my mental movie screen. To read about the many plagues and miracles God used to free His people from slavery was nothing short of inspiring. It's gotten to the point that I don't even question the legitimacy of these verses, which is quite baffling in itself if I stop and think about how much I once resisted the truth of these books. That's just one facet of my transformation, but as someone who still recalls his old ways, it just speaks to how much God has done to soften my heart and mind to His blessings. Genesis and Exodus, while not the most recommended starting places for new Christians, really helped to spark my enthusiasm. Our world's history is absolutely breathtaking. It just is.

But then the story suffers an abrupt end to the action. Moses painstakingly halts the plot, albeit with good reason, to write about the laws God teaches him. He describes the meticulous ways that man is to build the Ark, its sanctuary, and the many garbs to be worn by Hebrew priests. While fascinating in detail, these chapters are completely void of humanity. They are strict laws that can almost border on cultish. Let's switch gears and focus on the positive side: not only are we blessed through Christ's sacrifice, those of us who live after His first coming are blessed to not be subjected to the arcane rules described in Exodus and Leviticus.

I won't lie. I genuinely hoped Leviticus would resume the story that was halted in the Desert of Sin. From a reader's perspective, I'm waiting for something new to happen and vicariously yearning for these people to FINALLY get out of the freaking desert. Man is it taking a long time. The art snob in me applauds this. A good writer can make you hate the villain, love the hero, and feel all the emotions described therein. When I read about the materials and formation of arks and clothes and so on, it frustrates my internal reader, who simply wants something to happen. In writing, we call this stuff info dump. That's when an author spends an extraneous amount of time describing a setting (or anything, really) instead of entertaining the reader's desire to see something actually happen.

Certainly, I extract a lot of joy from serving God and knowing that I am working on behalf of a greater cause than I can understand. The actual method to it can be pretty unspectacular. The laws described in Leviticus almost leech the spirituality from what they represent. They are so methodical and drab that it almost sounds easy to forget that people did these things to earn God's favour. Here's the example quoted below, which I will paste a second time (though this is the first you'll read the citation):

Leviticus 4: 27-31 "27 " 'If a member of the community sins unintentionally and does what is forbidden in any of the LORD's commands, he is guilty. 28 When he is made aware of the sin he committed, he must bring as his offering for the sin he committed a female goat without defect. 29 He is to lay his hand on the head of the sin offering and slaughter it at the place of the burnt offering. 30 Then the priest is to take some of the blood with his finger and put it on the horns of the altar of burnt offering and pour out the rest of the blood at the base of the altar. 31 He shall remove all the fat, just as the fat is removed from the fellowship offering, and the priest shall burn it on the altar as an aroma pleasing to the LORD. In this way the priest will make atonement for him, and he will be forgiven."

The first time I read that, I glossed over the word "unintentionally". It seemed to me that God was offering man a way to purchase forgiveness. That was exactly one of my problems with the traditional Catholic church. Another, of course, was their ritualistic way of worshipping God.

My Wesleyan experience has been quite the opposite. The pastors pray about what to preach, and they consistently express in terms that are applicable to everyone's life. I think it no mere coincidence that they always address things that are very relevent to my previous week. God has been so generous in giving me answers through my brothers and sisters in Christ. It just fuels my desire to share my faith. The passages above (and below), in contrast, seem like loopholes at first. It seemed as if God was relinquishing His judgment, that anyone could commit any sin and merely fork over a head of cattle to a priest. What's worse, there's mention in verse 3 of the same chapter that when priests sin, it brings guilt upon all the people. I sure as heck didn't approve of that.

Unlike last night, I decided to read ahead to see if these points would be clarified. Last night I made the mistake about discussing the sin of greed with regards to the offerings that would yield materials for the Ark's construction. Perhaps those who withheld proved my point, but I would have preferred to use a more generic example. I thought it kind of silly, and a little embarassing, that subsequent chapters would offer a much better citation: the part where Aaron tempers a false idol out of gold. That was a perfect example of greed, because it was a lust for power. Anything empty is sinful, as God never commands us to do anything without purpose. He may test or tempt us at times, but the testing of faith is entirely justified. (Remember when He tempted Abraham to kill Isaac?)

So I read on. I found that Leviticus wasn't shedding much light on my confusion. The story wasn't progressing. Moses was describing monotonous law after monotonous law. Yakkity yak. I'd have been more okay with this if I felt it wasn't a cop out of some kind. Yes, God was being merciful; yes, He was offering man a way to atone even before Jesus Christ came in did that on our universal behalf. Yes, I can understand why God would want us to do something that is pleasing to Him, even if it was just for the sake of sanctifying a base creature and producing something aromatically pleasing to Him. But, darn it all, I didn't understand why He was willing to let us sin and then make it up with such seemingly foolish practices.

Then it occurred to me, as I noted earlier, that these laws only applied to those who sin unintentionally. People didn't get to buy their way into sinful lives; they were offered a chance to atone for their ignorance. God is perfectly just in holding us responsible for sin of any kind, but He is so loving and merciful that He was willing to proffer a way out of damnation when it's our limitation, not intent, that leads us astray. But that's the difference between focussing on what we struggle with and focussing on the whole picture. It's just that, this time last month, it would have taken me a couple days to sort all this out in my head. Now, I get near instant results. I'm at peace again. The old me would have metaphorically shaken a fist at God in protest, but this time I merely told Him that I wasn't certain about these passages. It wasn't spiteful; it was a genuine concern for my progress. I can't tell you why He loves me enough to swoop in and clear my head, but He did just that. There's no way I wasn't going to mention it in here.

As I said, I occasionally remember the old version of myself. I don't miss the stubborn emptiness I once embodied, but I remember how desolate it felt. I remember the way I used to ignorantly scorn my uneducated perception of God and what He stands for. Maybe it would be healthy for me to skip to the New Testament and then read these books later. But for those who can approach any part of the gospel with an open mind, I don't think there is a right or wrong sequence. Just let God guide you through it, whatever you do. Some parts of the story may be less aesthetically pleasing than others. Certainly, Christ's resurrection and the promises described in Revelation are my current favourites. But there's value in every single syllable in the Bible. I used to doubt that too. How dangerous my life used to be.

As I told Matt this evening: I feel like I'm only a month old. It's okay, though. I love being eternally young. I also love the fact that every day of my life is the most important day of my life. When I wake up tomorrow, I will have all the wisdom God has given me. And I'll add to it, because I just can't allow myself to live an entire day without reading at least some of the gospel. This is my journey, and it will never end. For such an ugly world, it's a beautiful promise we can all share in, if we choose to.

OLD VERSION OF THIS POST: "A Retraction, For Humility's Sake"

You know what? As blessed as I am to have my relationship with Jesus Christ, I am slowly learning that mere existence after Christ's coming is a blessing in itself. We have it much, much easier than the people of Old Testament times. I will try to be very tactful in how I say the following points, and I should also be careful to not declare them too early. Nevertheless, I would like to state for the present time that I've never witnessed any Catholic rituals that were half as bizarre as the first chapters of Leviticus.

Here's a little teaser for those who haven't read this book:

Leviticus 4: 27-31 "27 " 'If a member of the community sins unintentionally and does what is forbidden in any of the LORD's commands, he is guilty. 28 When he is made aware of the sin he committed, he must bring as his offering for the sin he committed a female goat without defect. 29 He is to lay his hand on the head of the sin offering and slaughter it at the place of the burnt offering. 30 Then the priest is to take some of the blood with his finger and put it on the horns of the altar of burnt offering and pour out the rest of the blood at the base of the altar. 31 He shall remove all the fat, just as the fat is removed from the fellowship offering, and the priest shall burn it on the altar as an aroma pleasing to the LORD. In this way the priest will make atonement for him, and he will be forgiven."

What's so disturbing about this? For starters, these rituals almost supercede the act of repentance. These procedures could certainly be construed as merciful, as God offers man a way to atone for sin, something I previously thought only possible after Christ's sacrifice. Also, I have no trouble accepting the fact that burnt offerings might be aromatically pleasing to God. But as I said above, the idea that one need only purchase and offer an animal as a means to erase sin is quite a spiritual loophole.

[end post in progress]

Cardinal Sin Part 2: Greed

2007-11-22T21:53:00.000-04:00

I won't lie about my thoughts on rituals: a lot of them seem meaningless to me. I even used face value judgments to refute some of the Old Testament rituals I've been reading about the past few weeks. It's not that faith doesn't manifest itself through action, but until five minutes ago it never donned on me that there are reasons behind sacrifices like burnt offerings. Before I get to that, I'd like to dwell on some of the rituals God didn't ask of us.

I was raised Catholic. If you know what that entails, you probably have a reactionary thought that leaps onto your mental front burner just to hear that word. I know I do. While I respect any Christian faith, Catholicism really exhausted my patience for any kind of worship by the time I was old enough to intellectualize what they do. By the time I reached a certain age, my mother realized she couldn't just drag my sister and I to church. I couldn't say at exactly what point, but she and I both abandoned it in our adolescent years. Don't get me wrong; no one hands out goat's blood at Catholic churches, and my Acadian ancestors have built some gorgeous buildings, mostly Catholic, through God's inspiration. But the way they preach the gospel doesn't inspire me. They receive weekly booklets, presumably identical to the ones circulated throughout the world, and half the service is based around repeating the exact same lines at the exact same times, except for the odd weekend. (Easter would be a prime example.)

I vividly remember the Christmas services I would attend during break from university, as they were about the only ones I attended during the year. It all seemed to come together in my head when I was home in Tusket for my sophomore year. Obviously the dictation was the same, but even the five minutes during which the priest speaks sounded exactly as they had the previous year. Catholicism didn't just feel like an automated Christ dispenser because it was repetitious, it felt like an automated Christ dispenser because it was just that void of inspiration. I've spoken personally with many priests, and I've yet to find one who isn't a genuinely good soul. I know the media would suggest otherwise, but I didn't detect any malicious hints in our community. So, if these ordained men were not the source of the roboticism, then, surely, the doctrine was. They didn't preach the gospel to you; they preached it at you. Historically, this kind of worship has been very much embedded into the Catholic mentality. It used to be that everything about God was for sale, as they understandably wanted to further their agenda as much as possible. But instead of encouraging you to give your trials to God and praise Christ for erasing your sins, they wanted to sell you a ticket into God's kingdom. Had an extra child? Fantastic! That's what the LORD wanted. And He also wanted you to buy their seat in the congregation. While my experience wasn't quite as shallow, the delivery sure was. It was dry, and I maintain that it is. You can find hypocrisy in any church, but these people thrived on it. All you had to do was present yourself for an hour a week, experience all the sacrements, and you were golden.

Now, while I've said I don't want to dump on Christian faiths, I have no choice but to be accountable to God in this instance and declare just how dangerous that stuff is. You must live for Jesus Christ. Waving to Him once a week is simply not enough. But rituals are just that compelling when you're willing to shut off your mind. I never was, and that explains to me why it took so long for me to submit my soul to God.

Now then, let us get to the point of my most verbose post to date: what do Old Testament rituals, specifically burnt offerings, tell us about the sin of greed?

Exodus 25: 1-9 "The LORD said to Moses, 2 "Tell the Israelites to bring me an offering. You are to receive the offering for me from each man whose heart prompts him to give. 3 These are the offerings you are to receive from them: gold, silver and bronze; 4 blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen; goat hair; 5 ram skins dyed red and hides of sea cows; acacia wood; 6 olive oil for the light; spices for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense; 7 and onyx stones and other gems to be mounted on the ephod and breastpiece.

8 "Then have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them. 9 Make this tabernacle and all its furnishings exactly like the pattern I will show you."

As I read this passage a moment ago, it occurred to me that God doesn't need any of these things. Not only can God make His own riches, He as much as affirms their commodity by asking people to sacrifice them. For a Creator Who condemns greed, this seems very hypocritical. It's also intriguing that the Bible says that those who reach Heaven will wear crowns based on the ir human deeds. Is this a form of materialism? Not at all, my friend. Not at all. First, let's examine what greed truly is.

Understandably, we associate greed with money. Money is a human invention that once represented a currency of work. If you performed a duty, it was worth a certain payment. It wasn't as simple as life might be. Back in the days when people bartered exclusively, we skipped the middle men. We were more independant and didn't need to depend on merchants to supply us with everything.

But then, as material things became more complex, as they took several sets of hands to manufacture, money, though an imaginary representation of worth, became the crux of human economy. Even worse, there's absolutely no standard anymore. It used to be that a goat was valued at such and such a price, but now we've distorted those lines. We exploit other countries for cheap labour. We pay professional athletes whopping salaries and shortchange some of the most valuable workers in our communities. We've made money the centre of all things material and all things laborious. That's why it makes sense to associate the unquenchable search for it with greed. It's an accurate portrayal, but I just wish more people would understand that the insatiable pursuit of anything material is no more or less greedy than the stockpiling of money.

The problem with sin is not always in the devastation of the act. Greed doesn't always inflict direct pain on others. But as we've come to learn, sins are equal in that they place a wedge between God and ourselves. The aimless pursuit of anything earthly requires us to take our gaze away from God and place it onto false idols. The exploitation of poorer countries for our own wealth is an act of neglect toward our fellow man, and it's a terrible way to represent ourselves as believers in Jesus Christ. That is what makes greed so bad. It's a lot more subtle than acts of wrath, but it still requires us to step outside God's chosen path for us.

So, when God asks for all the abovementioned offerings, He's not condescending to us. He's not suggesting that we should give these things to Him with one hand, and collect as much as possible with the other. He's very simply asking us to part with our earthly trinkets to test our willingness to do so. It's a visual testimony that we prefer His grace to our own luxuries. And, as I noted above, He will be returning the gesture in spades for those who are willing to comply.

EDIT: So apparently, as I've been reading ahead, God wanted all these materials for use in constructing the Ark of the Covenant. Let's just pretend I quoted one of the many other passages in which people sacrificed things to Him. I think the principle remains intact. Just kind of feel bad about using this for the example, given the token nature and significance of the Ark. I never said I wasn't in the midst of learning, though.

NIV For Me

2007-11-20T19:45:00.000-04:00

A pretty cosmetic update this time, but I've decided to read the New International Version from now on, which the astute will surely notice when I quote scripture in future posts. I found myself having to cross-reference a lot of things with Biblegateway.com, and it occurred to me that I might have been focusing more on the language than the message at times (King James Version). So yeah, I've been sloppy with updates the last few days, which is not to say that I've been less aggressive in my campaign to serve God.

What the hey, let's mention a few other nuggets from my life:

1. On Saturday I attended a membership class at the Yarmouth Wesleyan. Having considered the important points outlined in the class, I've decided to make it formal and join the flock. In accordance with their principles, this will require me to forsake my weekly lotto ticket, as no member is permitted to indulge in any form of gambling. If you need further evidence or testimony of the changes God has worked for me, I'm not the least bit bothered by this change. It's actually a relief, to be completely divulgent. See, I'd long held to the law of probability that states, quite truly, that my numbers would eventually pop up if I were to play them forever. Of course, it's entirely random, but I thought that if those numbers should converge sooner than later, I'd have my novels funded and wouldn't need to submit to a publishing company that doesn't share my vision for the books. For the record, I'm not writing for Christians, but am instead using Biblical resonance for the sake of spicing up what I hope will be an entertainment tale with spiritual and political undertones. As Matt said the other day, if God has truly put this story into me so that I might write it, circumstance will see that my words hit a print press. I trust in that. I just do.

2. Because I spend waaayy too much time alone, I've decided to get more involved at the church. I've tentatively made arrangements to accompany one of the pastors during house visits next week, and I will be more than eager to share any part of my story that might help anyone find the LORD. Beyond that, I'm unsure to what capacity I can lend further assistance, but I am so compelled to do God's work that it was simply time to take the initial steps. Answers are coming; I'm sure of it.

I guess that's all I'll mention for now. Other surprises forthcoming.

Virtues Part 1: Forgiveness

2007-11-18T21:03:00.000-04:00

While I certainly intend to continue my dissection of sin, its subtleties, and how I've come to identify it, God has instructed me to not gloss over some of the optimistic messages in the Holy Bible. Too often, we focus on the negative. There's no mincing words about that. If you are a true believer who walks with Jesus Christ, then you understand that He is there for all events in your life; He relishes in sharing your joy as much as He bleeds His heart to erase your pain. With that in mind, and before I delve too deeply into the book of Exodus, I want to bring our attention to Joseph, son of Jacob.

Quite simply, Joseph gets a raw deal from his brothers. I will make a very concerted effort to focus on Joseph's forgiveness instead of his brothers' jealousy, but you'll soon understand, if you don't already, just how pivotal sin is to this story. In fact, as I've said before, evil always claims the right of first offence. God, though He knows which of us will sin and when, does not administer unwarranted punishment, i.e. we are permitted to choose unwisely out of respect for the freedom we are given. In terms of Joseph's brothers, they are envious of the fact that Joseph is the chosen one among his generation*, that they will ultimately be called to serve him as a means of pleasing God**, and that they seem to feel that only God Himself has the right to direct their services.

* Genesis 37: 3-4 "Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours. And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him."

** Genesis 37: 5-7, 11 "And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren: and they hated him yet the more. And he said unto them, Hear, I pray you, this dream which I have dreamed: For, behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and lo, my sheaf arose, and also stood upright; and behold, your sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to me ... And his brethen envied him; but his father observed the saying."

Now, we all have our own crosses to bear. I think I should note a stark difference between the times described in Genesis and our times. As Christians, we often say that we should allow God to fight our battles and hand over anything that troubles us. But because Christ had not yet walked the earth and hadn't yet paid for the sinful debts of these people, they had even less of a leg to stand on than we do. It's not something that will really detour my train of thought here, but I just want to emphasize an important point that should give us hope. I don't know the intimate circumstances of how God ultimately dealt with the souls of Joseph's brothers, but I know that Christ is an unbreakable olive branch for those of us willing to accept it. Now then, onto what Joseph's brothers did with their jealousy: they indulged it.

Genesis 37: 12-14 "And his brethren went to feed their father's flock in Shechem. And Israel said unto Joseph, Do not thy brethren feed the flock in Shechem? come, and I will send thee unto them. And [Joseph] said to [Jacob], Here am I. And [Jacob] said to him, Go, I pray thee, see whether it be well with thy brethren, and well with the flocks; and bring me word again."

At this point, Jacob is a well-established man of God. I don't want to get too far off into tangent to describe his exploits, but they are well documented in previous chapters. As such, it's very intriguing that Jacob is the one who ultimately leads his chosen son to strife.

For me in particular, this is a very poignant issue. It's been shockingly easy for me to align my situation with God's will, but I find myself plagued with my insecurities when God asks me to do things for other people, to varying degrees and based on the circumstances. I just feel in general that this part of my life is in such a state of rebuilding that I wouldn't want to share that burden and that need for healing with others. It's something I'm working on, but I've come to feel intense moments of guilt when I see, in hindsight, that I might have been someone's shield if I trusted God's faith in me as much as I trust my faith in Him. Now then, back to Joseph:

Genesis 37: 18-21, 26-28 "And when [his brethren] saw him afar off, even before he came near unto them, they conspired against him to slay him. And they said one to another, Behold, this dreamer cometh. Come now therefore, and let us slay him ... And Reuben heard it, and he delivered [Joseph] out of their hands; and said, Let us not kill him ... And Judah said unto his brethren, what profit is it if we slay our brother, and conceal his blood? Come, and let us sell him to the Ishmeelites, and let not our hand be upon him; for he is our brother and our flesh. And his brethren were content. Then there passed by Ishmeelites merchantmen; and they ... sold Joseph to the Ishmeelites for twenty pieces of silver: and [the Ishmeelites] brought Joseph into Egypt."

There are some conflicting things about the above passages. Judah, for instance, displays a fear of God in that he doesn't want to spill Joseph's blood. Conversely, he is willing to sell his brother for profit, as if God could possibly endorse that action. It is very easy to think we are doing God's will when we are doing some of it, but the fact remains that to be a true follower of Christ is to serve Him eternally, not to choose which services to pay.

Skipping ahead, a lot happens in Egypt. Joseph is sold into slavery, framed, and imprisoned. He will later find grace in the eyes of the Pharaoh by successfully interpreting the fate of two of his servants. Joseph will reach tremendous acclaim by interpreting two of the Pharaoh's dreams, predicting seven years of abundant harvests, which are to be followed by seven years of famine. Satisfied with Joseph's interpretation, Pharaoh grants Joseph a seat of nobility and control over the country's supplies, which Joseph accepts quite earnestly. Joseph preserves and stockpiles extraneous food so that the country might survive the famine. As it will come to pass, his brothers eventually approach him to buy some of this food. The details are very intricately described in the scripture, and it's not that I don't think them important, but I would like to keep focus and fast forward to the point where Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, during a second expedition they will take to Egypt to purchase food for the land of Canaan.

Genesis 45: 4-8 "And Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you. And they came near. And he said, I am Joseph your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt. Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life. For these two years hath the famine been in the land: and yet there are five years, in the which there shall neither be earing nor harvest. And God sent me before you to preserve you a posterity in the earth, and to save your lives by a great deliverance. So now it was not you that sent me hither, but God: and he hath made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and a ruler throughout all the land of Egypt."

Phew! How much happens here, in light of Joseph's forgiveness? Much, I'm afraid, and I will do my utmost to describe it. First, let me try to break down everything that happens when one party forgives another, as evidenced above:

1) The forgiver relinquishes his anger.
2) The offender is relieved of guilt, provided a willingness to self-forgive is present.
3) Amends are made between both parties.
4) All those involved are healed in the eyes of God, as clinging to anger or guilt can only drive a wedge between God and oneself. This is not meant to be a loophole for sidestepping repentance, but it is certainly part of the restoration process.
Secret answer 5) In this case, I wouldn't say that Jacob's hands were free of responsibility, as he identified the potential for all that happened between his sons. However, as Joseph so carefully illustrates, even Jacob's role in this can be traced back to God.

I genuinely believe that, while it is never a good thing to stray from God's path, the return trip is inherently possessed of valuable lessons. What is truly damning is not learning from them. In case any of us have forgotten, let us remember that God is so loving that there is nothing we could do that would prevent Him from accepting us, provided we should return to His grace and obey Him faithfully before death claims us. That, as Pastor Jim so brilliantly explained this morning, is one promise you can take to the bank. Not to mention the only one you need. However, those of us who can't seem to forgive ourselves for things we've repented are in for a very rough go of it. Trust me, I can sympathize.

May God bless you all.

Big Whoppin' Disclaimer

2007-11-16T12:10:00.001-04:00

In re-reading some of these posts, I sometimes find some don'ts that should read as dos, and so on. Let's always assume in favour of God, because those typos can definitely change the implications of a sentence's message. Just fixed a couple over the last few minutes, mostly because I need a break from my day job work, but I'm glad they've been fixed for the sake of anyone who might read these posts in the future.

The funny thing about this blog is the trance I slip into when I write for it. The same applies for any worship things I write. Sometimes I need to force myself to sit in front of the computer, but after a few lines I just go to sleep until the whole thing's onscreen. Problem is, my fingers seem prone to Freudian slips. I guess I'm just scared to forget something I mean to say and write extra fast for the sake of logging it all. Ah well, I think my intent is clear for the most part.

Sin, Temptation, and Strength Through Repentance

2007-11-14T09:45:00.000-04:00

Although I forget the exact timelime, I think it's fair to say that for approximately one month I've made a concerted effort to serve God and live in His favour. In that time, I've eliminated many vices from my life, have avoided many bad influences that might stifle my progress, and I've also made a few constructive steps toward healthy living and thinking. For me, the easier parts have been in the things I chose to give up. In contrast, I've perceived a few endeavours God wanted me to do, i.e. introduce into the scheme of my life, that have been much more difficult to follow through with. It's much harder to take a leap toward unknown good than to abandon something concretely bad. At least that's been the case for me.

As I was waking up this morning, I reflected on the past month. I thought about changes, freedoms, and complications I've experienced, and I also found myself remembering a few passages from Genesis that crept under my radar the first time I read them. I have asserted, and still believe, that sin is not just an evil, but it's a necessary one. Imagine, if you can bear with the simplicity and light sarcasm of the analogy, if life were a multiple choice test that read something like this:

Question 1: In order to achieve salvation, you must believe in and follow:
a) God and Jesus Christ
b) Jesus Christ and God
c) all of the above

Not much room in there for free will, is there?

No, we all have the option of choosing alternate, unfulfilling routes in life, and that they exist is the only scenario that allows for faith to be truly tested. One misconception I certainly had before speaking confidentially with many Christian role models is that the more you do for God, the easier it gets. I know a few pastors who have felt intense stress through their works, and this in spite of the fact that, even when they realize it or not, even when the job is thankless, most of them have done a tremendous amount of good in this world. Their effectiveness, just as it is with all Christians, hinges entirely on genuine faith in Jesus Christ and an honest approach thereof. Honesty is always a measure of authenticity.

On the subject of honesty, I want to reiterate that I have no idea about how true or incorrect any of my posts are, but I do make a very deliberate effort to keep open-minded when interpreting the gospel and making decisions in life. I sometimes struggle to hear God's voice, because there are conflicting ones, though subtle, that want me to stray, as I'm sure we've all experienced. When I read the Old Testament, His instructions seem so clear, so black and white, as if only those who deliberately scorn God could falter. Truly, if an angel showed up at my door and performed a miracle in front of me, I would be remiss to send him on his way until I'd performed all he asked. Not because I'm fickle and would respond to magic, but it's just such a declaration of God's love that He makes His guidance so impossible to distort with some of His servants. And, even though His instructions can seem absolutely absurd to those who receive them, even if it seems like God is willing us to sin or to do something we don't feel we have the strength to do, it's important to remember that, if we follow His path, we are not the source of our strength anyway:

Genesis 22: 1-2 "And it came to pass ... that God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him, Abraham: and he said, Behold, here I am. And [God] said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of."

Now, before we continue, a quick summary of important things we know by this point: 1) God has made an everlasting covenant with Abraham that promises a multitude of kingdoms in his seed; 2) Isaac, who is to be burned in offering, is the first of that lineage; 3) it is an established law that for Abraham to kill his son, who has not sinned in accordance with that punishment, would be sinful on Abraham's part.

Genesis 22: 3-12 "And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him. Then on the third day Abraham lift up his eyes, and saw the place afar off. And Abraham said unto his young men, Abide you here with the ass; and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you. And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand, and a knife; and they went both of them together. And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, My father: and he said, Here I am, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering? And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both of them together. And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. And the angel of the LORD called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here I am. And [the angel] said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou has not withheld thy son, thine only son from me."

The first time I read the above passages, I merely accepted them. It's kind of surreal for me, as I used to be tremendously judgmental toward scripture. My approach used to be spiteful; I was looking for something that could prove God's imperfection and/or the inauthenticity of the Word, which would have been conducive to my former (and false) independence from being accountable to Him. I was trying to live one life for me and balance it with a lackadaisical belief in the essence of God and an afterlife. And, as for Abraham, how easy would it be for him to reject this command, in spite of its clarity and his familiarity with God's voice, and especially given the oxymoronic nature of the request itself? Whether he envisioned it or not, Abraham declared that God would provide a lamb, and it turns out He would. But how easy would it have been to doubt in that?

This is what I mean about how the stronger we get spiritually, the stronger we must be to maintain a relationship with God. For me, giving up bad habits proved strangely easy, but as for venturing into new grounds outside my comfort zone, suddenly I felt the sting of fear and doubt, and I am working on those in my own terms. But if someone like Abraham, who had previously demonstrated so many acts of fear, can reform himself so much as to raise a hand against his son, I see a lot of promise in that. Of course, God intervened, as I trust He would should I ever be tested this strongly and adversely, but I really have no words to describe how impressive this seems to me, even though my old self would deem it utterly deceitful. And, as I lay in bed this morning, reflecting on things I've done this past month, and reflecting on these verses, here's what I concluded for myself: this form of temptation doesn't exist to distort God's image but to strengthen humanity.

Think about that for a second. God is omnipotent. That is, God is aware of everything that was and would be. God knew, beyond all doubt, that Abraham would submit to this request. So why would He ask him to jeopardize his son's life, the son whose lineage would descend all the way to Christ? Because faith and submission transcend ALL acts of good and evil. My mind is so inclined to judge the nature of what God wants that sometimes I forget it's Him doing the asking. If I live long enough, the chances only increase that God will request something of me that might create a mess, that might place me into a very uncomfortable situation. Not that I would try to wash my hands of any inherent responsibility, but I MUST trust God to clean it up for me. What if, in serving Him, I am to abandon friendships or securities? If so, it's crucial (and always will be) to remember that the same faith and the same God that asks us to do things on His behalf is the same faith and the same God that will carry us through these trials. That gets harder every day for me, but, without exception, when I follow through, so does He.

Believe me, I can study and try to rationalize and empathize with the situations of others, but it doesn't help me as much as I once thought. I'm still not as strong as Abraham demonstrates. I'm still the the version of Abraham that would want Sarah to identify herself as my sister. I'm still the James who will come across passages in other chapters and books and wonder at the logic, as if logic were a form of gospel. But, upon reflection, I have learned that in falling from God's grace means having nothing to cling to, that when God eventually embraces me again He holds onto me much tighter than before. I am always bestowed with a stronger faith in the good for having experienced new levels of pain, because the disparity between pain and joy has gotten so much wider.

I used to sin so casually and never repent any of it, and now I feel so lost and desolate and empty when God makes it clear that I've disappointed Him. It would almost be enough for me to regress into my old ways of being, but for the fact that every moment I spend on God's path illuminates and fulfills my life. If it were impossible not to achieve salvation, I would think Heaven no better than this planet, because life on earth, for those who have it, is a given. And, as I find myself tempted in newer, subtler ways, as I find my insecurities so turned against me because of my efforts to live well, I am learning just how damned this place truly is. All the pain we experience comes from earth, not from God's promises. No matter what sacrifices I have to make, and no matter how many attempts and struggles I have to go through, I will profess here again, in front of any eyes and minds that might ever read this, that I am utterly committed to living with God in Heaven, even though I will never be deserving of it. By no means am I strong enough, but I don't have to be. As I'm slowly starting to understand, it's not even possible to live perfectly. It's important to not only let God fight our battles, but to let Him choose which ones we should fight. My attempts to be perfect for Him, when they come from my own desires, are certain to fail.

This is why sin is necessary, and this is one thing that Satan will never understand about his agenda: when he fails to destroy us, God reaps in it. Conversely, when God tempts us, we must submit to the challenge. Can't say I always know the difference, but at least I have the greatest Ally in existence to help me through it all.

As for Abraham, I can only imagine the relief he felt when the angel stilled his hand. You might have noticed that even he struggled a bit with this. He and his men camped for three days before Abraham finally lifted his eyes to see the designated place, and I can't help but wonder if he was waiting for God to send further or different instructions, as I sometimes do when I can't wrap my head around something. It's the same stalling strategy I've used when I did understand and lacked the courage to follow through. Not only did Abraham stall, but he had to look upon Isaac for those same three days, suffering silently, knowing that Isaac might not live to succeed him. How hard would it be for any parent to lie to their child, saying that God would provide an offering but knowing that it was their very offspring that would be sacrificed? (In this sense, we must praise God's sacrifice, as He'd known for eternity what Christ would have to endure on our behalf.)

I guess the moral is to always be honest in the way we listen to God and conduct ourselves in life. Sadly, many of us, including me, try to convince ourselves that easier choices can yield happiness. If I had any such examples, I'd have included them herein. Trust me.

Cardinal Sin Part 1: Vanity

2007-11-13T22:46:00.001-04:00

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_deadly_sins:

In almost every list Pride is considered the original and most serious of the seven deadly sins, and indeed the ultimate source from which the others arise. It is identified as a desire to be more important or attractive than others, failing to give compliments to others though they may be deserving of them, and excessive love of self (especially holding self out of proper position toward God). Dante's definition was "love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbor." In Jacob Bidermann's medieval miracle play, Cenodoxus, Pride is the deadliest of all the sins and leads directly to the damnation of the famed Doctor of Paris, Cenodoxus. In perhaps the most famous example, the story of Lucifer, Pride was what caused his Fall from Heaven, and his resultant transformation into Satan. Vanity and Narcissism are prime examples of this Sin. In the Divine Comedy, the penitent were forced to walk with stone slabs bearing down on their backs in order to induce feelings of humility.

I'm actually quite impressed that vanity is here regarded as the most dangerous sin, not just because I agree with it, but because of some of the subtleties I've observed about it. Let's get one thing out of the way: all sins are empty. Heck, two things: all pleasure derived from sin is also empty.

As people, we have egos. People with egos are subject to egos and the subsequent inclination to indulge them. The problem with vanity is not so much in the appreciation of cosmetic beauty or narcissism--although those are indeed quite damning--but in the way it seeps into every facet of every sin in the world. Consider this phrase: to do something in vain. What does that mean for you? To me, it involves performing an act that has no purpose. It's based on hollow pursuits that bring immediate and ephemeral gratification, things that give a false sense of pleasure but never enrich one's life. You can see how all other sins could be interpreted that way:

Lust: indulging chemical desires
Gluttony: eating for the sake of taste or distraction, instead of hunger
Greed: the pursuit of more money than one inherently needs
Sloth: a false sense of repose (as it doesn't count when one is genuinely tired)
Wrath: the manifestation of anger instead of healing
Envy: the pursuit of gifts that aren't given by God

Vanity is a very strange bugger, because it doesn't always serve to elevate oneself as much as distract from more urgent motivations. Whenever we deviate from God's will, we try to serve our weaknesses instead of our purposes, and that, according to my interpretation, is a deliberate act of vanity. In fact, it might even be alleged that vanity is what prevents a lot of people from finding God in the first place; where God's guidance yields permanent, undying gifts, vanity only serves the moment that commits it. Vanity is also the progenitor of guilt and repentance for those who acknowledge them, but, sadly, many choose to fill those voids with further acts of vanity, and that is one dangerous cycle in which to find oneself.

Fear vs. Faith

2007-11-13T21:56:00.000-04:00

Over the past month, I've come to learn that sin is not the only thing that can drive a wedge between God and me. I just wikied a summary of the cardinal sins, and I find it absolutely fails to describe some of the subtleties I've observed (and committed) over the years, so my next post will be the first in a non-consecutive series about my thoughts on this issue. First, I'd like to address one of the sins that didn't make the list, and I consider it a sin because it really encapsulates the extreme opposite of faith in God: fear.

It's interesting to me that I once held to the twisted belief that God was merciless in the Old Testament, especially with regards to the death penalty. I understand the logic in wanting to keep gratuitous sin away from impressionable people, especially where people seem to glean pleasure in many forms of sin. What I've come to realize, however, is that it's very easy to examine this issue as a sweeping theory, but much more difficult to point a finger at God when there's a face attached to it. From what I've read over the past few weeks, the easiest way to build a case against God's mercy would be to cite the instances of Babel, Sodom, and Gomorrah. Basic human empathy would, I hope, suggest that laying waste to entire cities would be indicative of wrath, not justice. As I'm gradually learning (and accepting, to my surprise), we are not meant to know everything. In all the abovementioned, we are never properly told what the inhabitants of these places have committed and to what degree, but it's interesting to note that God seemingly saves the ones who are deserving, specifically Lot and his family. Having learned what I know, I must give God the benefit of the doubt and assume that He would have kept his promise to Abraham by not destroying the city at all if there were ample people worth saving, and, since He did save the few that were worthy of His mercy, I also have to assume that had any more been present, they too would have been led outside the walls.

So how does fear factor into this, and precisely what is it? As for Lot, who identified the angels God sent to rescue him and his immediate family, he wanted to back out at the last minute. He had doubts about the legitimacy of the prophecy that clearly predicted the destruction of these hubs:

Genesis 19: 14-6 "And Lot went out, and spake unto his sons in law, which married his daughters, and said, Up, get ye out of this place; for the LORD will destroy this city. But he seemed as one that mocked unto his sons in law. And when the morning arose, then the angels hastened Lot, saying, Arise, take thy wife, and thy two daughters, which are here; lest thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city. And while he lingered, the men laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters; the LORD being merciful unto him: and they brought him forth, and set him without the city."

These men that led him out were not just ordinary men; they were judges sent by God to canvass the city. The night before, as described in the scripture, two of them appeared at Lot's dwelling to warn him, as they saw in him the presence of the Lord. A little later, the third one showed up, followed by men of the city, who were intent on beating the angels and anyone who aided them. Now, not only do I not want to doubt Lot's faith in God, but I would think it only reinforced after seeing the judges cast a blindness upon the aggressors so they couldn't even follow through with their sinister desires. In spite of this, and the many miracles to which Lot had been privvy, he feared the implications of uprooting his family. He also retreated into himself when faced with his sons in law, as they thought him quite foolish for even suggesting it.

Again, what is fear? For an instinct that seems to walk hand-in-hand with doubt, it makes little sense given the above circumstances. The same could be said of those who doubted Christ, and, if you consider some of the miracles Christ performed, it's pretty ludicrous to assume He was anyone but the Son of God. Jeff McDowell makes a very explicit point in noting that, while many false prophets have stumbled from the woodwork over the course of history, Christ is not only one of few (if not the only one) who calls Himself God's only Son, but He actually demonstrates it with acts and miracles that couldn't be attributed to anything less. As I keep reading, God is very liberal with demonstrations of His own power and love throughout the Old Testament. So, why is it, then, that after witnessing such impossibilities, anyone could be inclined to doubt? The only answer I can come up with is based on my own situation. It has everything to do with focus.

See, if I'm to follow Christ, and I truly mean to do so, there are times when He will grant me blessings and times when He will ask me to perform things on His behalf. Some are easier than others, and I've yet to come across an example where I disobeyed and suffered for it. In fact, I recently noticed some ethical conflicts at work, which, although they weren't on my shoulders, didn't change the fact that I was contributing to an enterprise that wasn't always conducting itself in honourable terms. Against my own will, I made it clear that I could no longer continue as things were, and, beyond that, even went as far as to insist that these situations be rectified in order for me to hand over some work I was sitting on. None of this was my doing, not because I disagree with God's assessment of the situation, but I've become far too dependant on having a paycheque, not to mention a reference for the future. Earlier today, I found out that balance is on the fast track to being restored. The funny thing is, aside from the initial approach I took, I barely had to do anything. As my mentor would say, I took a leap and a net appeared to catch me.

But then, there are other challenges where I have let fear consume me, and, as I've come to realize, it had nothing to do with the situation. I was never in any danger, and I didn't stand to actually lose anything. What I did, instead, was focus on my own weaknesses as a person instead of the endless strength and support I have from God. What I was doing was trying to intellectualize things that were not for me to consider, and that is very, very dangerous. I even had a moment where I asked God to delegate certain obligations to those of stronger faith, stronger will, it didn't matter. All I knew was that I alone could not possibly accomplish some of the things being asked of me, because I'm just that vulnerable right now. It was as if God had given me a shield to use in the proverbial battle that is life, and instead of using it to guard against evil, I was trying to guard against the will I handed over to God. I wanted it back, because I was focussed on internal struggles, which, as we all know, should have been handed over to God in the first place. But it's hard to let go of these things, and I tried to go it alone, and it failed. Quite poetically, actually. If nothing else, there should be great comfort in knowing that God always comes back.

Even some of God's most loved children have done exactly as I did. Abraham, when entering a new kingdom, instructed his wife Sarah to say she was his sister, so the men of these countries wouldn't kill him to claim her. Isaac did the same. Just tonight, I read about Jacob's conflict with his brother Esau, his attempts to spoonfeed gifts to him to defuse his anger. None of these could be construed as acts of faith, and none of them are worthy of praise. But the funny thing about it all: these men, just as the Bible says, did spread their seeds across the globe. God doesn't expect me to be perfect; He expects me to be honest. We all have insecurities that will be used against us, but, as I can truly attest, there's a light at the end of it all.

Fear has nothing to do with what's asked of us. It also has nothing to do with any comparison we could draw between our inherent abilities and the situations in which we find ourselves. Fear is entirely introspective; it's the way we try to grab the sword from God's grip and swing it for ourselves. If I've learned nothing else over my 27 years, it's that, even when I do land a blow, it's only coincidental. God, on the other hand, is incapable of missing.

Why Run From Yourself When You Could Walk Instead?

2007-11-12T22:51:00.000-04:00

Just saying.

(As if you weren't getting frustrated with the long posts. ;))