good coffee and good conversation

This evening Jessie and I went to Sitwell’s Coffee Shop in Clifton. It is always so good to have good coffee and good conversation. Sometimes I become so wrapped up in my studies and in my pursuits that I fail to really indulge the relationships I am a part of. It is good to put everything aside and just be in the presence of a wonderful friend and share your heart and know that you will not be judged but understood and loved despite all your faults. Friends like these are difficult to find, and I am thankful I have a handful, and Jessie is definitely one of them.

Chapter 39: The Angels of Sunset Avenue

Tonight I finished "Chapter 39: The Angels of Sunset Avenue." It's a pretty good chapter, with lots of dialogue interspersed with action. The ending is intense. I only have 67 pages remaining, I think--I'm too lazy to check right now--and I am getting excited about completing this rough draft. Here is an excerpt from page 726, a conversation about hope between "The Man" and Samantha (an 8-year-old girl).

* * *

The man paced back and forth between the sinks and the stalls. “It’s hopeless,” he muttered.

Samantha stood beside the sinks, watching him pass. “It’s not hopeless.”

“Yes, it is,” the man said.

“Why do you think it’s hopeless?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Hope is a good thing.”

“No,” he said, turning and facing her. If she wanted to talk about it, then, damn, why not? “Hope is just escapism. Hope is trying to escape the reality of the moment by burying your head into the metaphorical sands of the future. Sands that hold no promise.”

“Maybe,” she confessed. “But it keeps us alive.”

“Alive?” the man countered. “It kills us. It drains us. A friend of mine said that hope is like barbed wire: the tighter you hold on, the more it hurts us. The more it makes us bleed.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But we still hold onto it.”

“Some of us do,” he said. “I don’t.”

“Yes you do. Even if you deny it.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“You’re still alive. Without hope, you would have killed yourself. Suicide is the logical conclusion to hopelessness.” After a moment she asked, “What do you hope for?”

The man was quiet.

He wasn’t even sure if he knew the answer.

zombie dreams and fantasies

Jessie and I were at the supermarket when the television started reporting news of a zombie outbreak at the edge of town. The reporter told everyone to stay where they were or get to someplace safe: DO NOT go outside! Jessie and I clung to the large bay windows looking out over the parking lot. We could see people running between the cars, screaming, being chased by fast-moving zombies. A moment later there was a crash at the other end of the store, and we turned to see zombies running right at us from between the aisles of cereal and milk bars. I grabbed Jessie’s hand and we raced out the door, into the parking lot. Zombies came from between the cars, throwing themselves after us as we ran to Jessie’s car. She got into the driver’s seat and I entered the passenger’s. She turned on the car and left the parking lot, hitting a zombie. I craned my neck to see that we were being chased. I turned my head around just in time to see a semi crossing the road. It slammed into the car. In the next scene, I awoke in the car, still strapped in, blood covering my face. It was pure daylight. I got out of the car and stumbled around. Jessie’s door was open, and she was gone. I walked down the street. All of the buildings along either side of the road were quiet and still. Car wrecks littered the street. I heard some commotion, people shouting, and I went down an alley into a backyard. In a house surrounded by trees were several people. They beckoned me over and let me join them. And guess what? Jessie was there! She explained that I had been unconscious after the car wreck, and she thought I was dead. She was very happy to see me: tears streamed down her cheeks. As to why there were no zombies, they explained that the zombies stayed indoors during the day, in the darkness, because the sunlight hurt them. So wouldn’t that make them vampires? I don’t know. I’m just telling you how the dream went. The rest of the day was spent boarding up the house and collecting food—oddly, the only food collected were gourds and pumpkins—and when I went to bed that night, I could hear the zombies outside. I was happy, though, because finally life was exciting, and I had found a purpose: to survive, and to help others survive.

So why is it that zombies fascinate me so much? I don’t think it’s the zombies necessarily, but the collapse of everything we hold so dear. For nearly five thousand years, mankind has been erecting a civilization filled with monuments to their glory and achievements that reach into the stars. And a simple plague destroys all of that when it turns mankind into mindless creatures who only hunger and thirst and know nothing more. Order disintegrates into chaos. Hope becomes hopelessness. Our greatest dreams and ambitions die in the twinkling of an eye. The hunters become the hunted. Families are torn apart, friends become our worst enemies, and society crumbles. This is what makes a zombie apocalypse so fascinating to me. I find myself contemplating what the future would look like if this were to happen. How would our theologies change? How would our perceptions of the world be transformed? How would we live our daily lives? Would we rebuild civilization? Would we even be able to rebuild our civilization? Our environment would take a 180 degree turn, would be flipped upside-down, and we would have the ultimatum of either changing and adapting, or dying—and joining the Legions of the Undead.

bearing my soul

There is a dream of mine that resides within the deepest part of who I am. And that dream is simple: to be a good husband and a good father. I often dream of my wedding day, of sharing that life with her, of love given and love shared. I often ponder the day when my first child will be born, how I will run up and down the hospital hallways, laughing and shouting and crying tears of joy. This dream haunts me, possesses me, intoxicates me.

And I take this dream very seriously.

There are many with this dream who run high and low, searching for someone—anyone—to make this dream a reality. There was a time when I did this, and I paid for it dearly. Yet the experiences of my immature days have enabled me to come to understand what I want and do not want both in a girl and in a romantic relationship. Throughout my life I have dated five girls, each girl radically different than the others. I’ve had my heart broken, and I’ve broken hearts. I have been in God-honoring relationships and relationships that, in one way or another, did not honor God. I’ve realized that what I want, for example, is a girl with whom I can talk about everything and nothing for hours, a girl who will listen patiently—and patience is needed for this—to my rants and raves, a girl who will comfort me in my sadness and not complicate it. I’ve realized that I need a girl who will help me become a better person in Christ, and—less important but equally valid—a girl who will enjoy both my awkwardness and my pledged creepiness.

I know what I want.
I know what I need.
But the focus—though unspoken—has always been upon ME.
These are valid questions—“What do I want? need?”—but their root is selfishness.

A better question would be: “What do I want to give?”

Relationships are often built upon self-fulfillment and self-satisfaction. “How can this person satisfy me financially, socially, physically?” is the unspoken question. We choose our friends, our significant others, and even our spouses with this logic. It is, by nature, selfish: “How can this person cater to my needs?” Of course, we won’t admit this. But we don’t have to: the skyrocketing number of divorces, even and especially within Christendom, are testaments to this fact.

The biblical portrayal of love is radically different than the oh-so-common ME, ME, ME! approach. Biblical love, as it is to be practiced and manifested in ALL relationships—from those with enemies to those with spouses—is characterized by selflessness, sacrifice, servitude, and submission. It is not an “easy” love—in the sense that it is not easy to cater to others’ needs rather than our own, in the sense that it is not easy to put our concerns behind the concerns of others—because we are culturally—and one might say even sinfully—programmed to be selfish. Yet this love, I believe, though hard, is strong, and it produces mutual honor, respect, and devotion when taken seriously by both parties involved.

Back to the question: “What do I want to give?”

A love that is selfless, sacrificial, self-denying, and submissive is manifested in GIVING. This is a true statement: great love is manifested in great giving, and this has been testified so violently and beautifully upon the cross. “What do I want to give?” There are no specifics in my answer. Love is not bound to specific situations: it is merely manifested in specific situations. All I know is that I want to be like Christ, in all arenas of my life, present and future, and this means GIVING. When it comes to a romantic relationship, it means giving up my own interests for her interests. It means giving up my energies and my time for her sake. It means possibly even giving up on my hopes and dreams in order to help her become a better woman in Christ. Ultimately, it is giving up myself for her. When self-denial—no, self-annihilation—is practiced by me and my girl, I believe that a beautiful relationship will be possible, and an even more beautiful marriage. I believe that in a world that says, “Love is a hoax,” we can show that “Love is completely real.”

what do i wanna do?

I am constantly asking the question, “What does God want me to do with my life?” I believe that God wants us to do what we want as long as it is glorifying to Him. I do not believe that hypothetical fairytale idea of God having a blueprint for our lives. I do not believe that God has a specific set course for our lives. I do not believe that God has a specific girl for me. Ultimately, the question is, “What do I want to do with my life—and how can I use it to glorify God?” I believe that God will, somehow or another, bless such a venture. But even when the question is transformed, the answer is still less clear. For the past few years I have been torn in what to do with my life, what to pursue.

I love writing.
I love teaching.
I love preaching.

Those are the three things I love. In Minnesota, I had such an excellent time because all three were present. It was a dream come true. I am gifted in all three of those areas, a gift not due to my own talents but purely from the graces of God. I am seeking to find a way to bring all of these together for a concrete goal for my life. You would think it would be easy—“Work at a church! Preach on Sundays, teach on weekdays, and write theological and spiritual works in your spare time!” And honestly, deep down, that’s what I want to do. But it feels so distant. It feels like I will never be able to experience that again. What I had in Minnesota was fantastic—great friends, a great church, a great town, a great environment—and I fear that wherever I end up working will not in any way compare. It is a worry that I have.

This is a rambling post. One of those posts that you begin hoping that you will come to a concrete thesis by the end of the discourse. So here is the thesis at the end of this discourse: I want to teach, I want to preach, I want to write. But I fear that the greatest atmosphere for such an occupation was just an internship, and that I will not be able to experience that in the future. I fear that the best has come and gone. Right now I am not preaching. I am not teaching. I am buried in schoolwork, and my writing is essay after essay and paper after paper, things I do not desire to write about. I feel strangled, and that feeling is inching its way into every part of who I am. I find myself irritable, in a bad mood, ill-tempered. I feel like I am a beautiful vase stuffed full with manure: the vase is designed to hold flowers, but it has been forced into an existence where it is not functioning as it has been designed to function. I desperately want to hold flowers, but right now all I am holding is manure. And I’ve held flowers before, and I’ve loved it—but I’m still just holding manure.

I look forward to the day when I will preach again.
I look forward to the day when I will teach again.
I look forward to the day when my writing will teach and inspire.

My prayer is that God will continue molding me into the person whom He wants me to be. I pray that He will continue morphing me into a person who looks more and more like His Son Jesus Christ. I pray that God will not let my talents go wasted but will use them as He desires in a way that will glorify Him and advance His kingdom. I pray that my talents will not be wasted on my own self-glorification but utilized for the glorification of God and the spread of the gospel.

digest sizes for Book One and Book Two available

I am still on “Chapter 39: The Angels of Sunset Avenue” in Dwellers of the Night: Book Three. Once it is completed, Book Three will be available for free download or purchase, and I will spend considerable amount of time editing and revising for the 2nd edition of the book, which is an editing and revising of the second draft (there has already been two drafts in the writing of this book), put out as a hardcover or paperback single volume containing all three books. The estimated price will be somewhere between $10-15 for the paperback (which is pretty good for a 740-page book) and around $34 for the hardcover (which isn’t the best for an 800-page hardcover, but we’ve all seen worse).

I now have both Book One and Book Two available as digest-sized paperback books. Formerly they were just available in 6”x9” format, but now they are available in a smaller version (5.5” x 8.5” which is significantly cheaper than the other). Click on the picture below, and it will take you directly to my storefront where you can check it out (free download or cheap paperback). The price of Book One is $5.02 and Book Two is $6.94.

the seventh week

Monday. I went to breakfast for my usual: wheat toast and coffee. Genesis 1-11 went well. I showered and worked until 1:00 and did homework before my Gospel of Mark class with Kyle and Gambill. I skipped out on dinner and went to Mount Echo, and I spent the evening hanging out with Mikaela in the coffee shop. She said I could never make her feel awkward, so I licked her. That made her feel awkward. I win. We talked about our exes: me and Courtney, her and Logan. It was saddening for both of us. Remembering Courtney made my heart ache.

Tuesday. I had a busy morning and afternoon between work at the Hilltop and classes. I went to Mount Echo and rehearsed my message for Devos. Jessie and I had dinner together, and then I taught at Devos. It went really well; I really do enjoy teaching and sharing stories.

Wednesday. I spent the afternoon after class at Mount Echo for prayer in the woods. I went to the café and wrote a paper for my class Heaven & Hell. Deshay and I had dinner together, and then I went over to Isaac’s apartment where we discussed literature and shared poetry.

Thursday. I missed Romans and had breakfast in the cafeteria. I decided to go home after Geology. Jessie called me crying, frustrated with life and frustrated with herself.

Friday. I woke at 6:30 AM for pancakes and coffee and did laundry. I returned to campus around 4:00 and had dinner with Katie. She’s totally head over heels for Dylan W. and I’ve no idea why. It pisses me off. Jessie’s mom is in town, staying with her and Faikham. I spent the evening in the Hilltop writing.

Saturday. I grabbed brunch with Brock & Gambill, then went to the lab to study minerals for Geology. I went to Rohs Street Café in Clifton for a few hours and worked on Dwellers of the Night. Mandy Kimes asked if I was going to send it to a publisher. I told her No. She and I talked for a while over the internet. She’s a great girl, from a Unitarian background. She’s an adorable, passionate, and wonderful girl. But our life goals are radically different, so even though I do indeed feel an inkling of… something… it’d be foolish to even give it thought.

Sunday. I woke up with a horrible headache, popped some aspirin, and went back to bed. Ams called and woke me up, and she went to Rally’s and got me some food. I worked until 9:00 with Katie and Jessie. Ams hung out at the bar. Ashley M. came in with her friends and introduced me as her stalker. (Inside joke; I’m not stalking her).

losing touching searching

I wrote this book back in 2007, and I have always been hesitant to make it publicly available. Truth be told, this book is raw and honest and genuine, and it explores some of the darkest parts of my life thus far. There is a lot in it that is revealing about me, and I have really struggled with whether or not to make it available for people to read. But I’ve decided to make it available, because I know that what I went through is something I will go through again. What I went through is something everyone goes through every once in a while. And so this book serves as a testament to those times, and it will let people know, “Hey: You’re not alone!” It’s 264 pages, well-written, filled with actual dialogue I partook in and journal entries straight from my day-to-day journal. As I said, it is raw, genuine, and honest. And if you’re interested, the paperback version is only… drumroll… $6.46! Plus shipping and handling. Or if you are a tightwad like me and generally spend your money on stupid stuff, there is a free .PDF download available, too. Just go to this self-publishing webpage HERE and you’ll see it.

I want to emphasize, however, that this book is not really meant for entertainment. Some parts are slow, other parts are monotonous... But that's how life is, and this is a snapshot from a several-month period of my life (with a few things thrown in-between). If you're looking for something very entertaining, this isn't your best bet. But if you wanna learn more about me and what I went through, it's definitely worth checking out.

the pseudo-chiasm of Romans

During the summer I became fascinated with St. Paul’s epistle to the Romans. This was largely due to two factors: 1. the fact that I became obsessed with Pauline studies and Pauline literature due to taking several classes with the Esteemed Doctor Smith. 2. It was my job to teach an adult Bible Study on Romans while in Minnesota, and through this Bible Study I had to get well acquainted with the letter. I quickly fell in love with it. This adoration led me to begin writing an exegesis on St. Paul’s epistle to the Romans. I have completed the actual exegesis—at 247 pages—and am currently editing and revising the rough draft. The original title for the work was “St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans: An Exegetical Analysis,” but I renamed it to “Re:Imagining Romans.”

This title is not only catchy but also fitting. The exegesis takes a route of interpretation upon Romans that, while not original, has been generally left untouched. The general consensus amongst theologians and biblical scholars—note: many biblical scholars agree with my interpretation; and I take pride in the fact that this interpretation evolved with my study of the text and on my own accords, and only later did I become aware that other scholars took the route I took—is that Romans is Paul’s doctrinal treatise, an exposition of his gospel for the Roman Christians in anticipation of his missionary work there. It is this mindset that paved the way to the “Romans Road Path of Salvation” that so many of us are taught in Sunday School. However, while Pauline theology is present, I believe that Romans is much more practical and pastoral in scope (even intoxicatingly so). It is my belief that there are four currents that run through Romans:

1. The Reconciliation of Jew and Gentile in the Roman Church
2. Opposition to Judaizers in the Roman Church
3. Opposition to Antinomians in the Roman Church
4. “The Jewish Question”

I believe that Paul has eloquently structured his letter in such a way that it forms a pseudo-chiasm, with the items of greatest importance in the Inclusio or “bookends” of the pseudo-chiasm:


Romans 1.18-3.19: The Reconciliation of Jew and Gentile

Romans 3.20-5.21: Opposition to Judaizers
Romans 6.1-8.39: Opposition to Antinomians
Romans 9.1-11.36: The Jewish Question

Romans 12.1-15.13: The Reconciliation of Jew and Gentile


In this pseudo-chiasm, the items of greatest importance are, as aforementioned, the Inclusio, or “bookends”: The Reconciliation of Jew and Gentile. Thus of primary importance to Paul in regards to the church of Rome is the unity between the different ethnic classes. Unity is of primary importance elsewhere in his letters, and it makes sense that it would be of primary importance in Rome (the ethnic “divisions” between the Jews and Gentiles probably arose from events and circumstances following Emperor Claudius’ expelling of the Jews from Rome in A.D. 49).

“What happened to 1.1-17 and 15.14-16.27?” 1.1-17 is the classic introductory material found in ancient letters, including the propositio (Rom 1.16-17), and 15.14-16.27 form the classic benediction material found in classic letters (interestingly, 16.1-23[24] may not in fact be a part of the original letter; but I deal with that in the book).

a meaningless post not worth reading

My friend Jessie’s mom is in town this weekend, and we may be going ice skating tomorrow night. If that were the case, it would be exciting. I have a busy week coming up: twelve papers, no exaggeration. You would think that with this workload I would be getting started. But then again, that would be the reasonable and responsible and logical thing to do. I am doing quite the opposite. I am drinking coffee and sitting in the coffee shop and working on my book. I am at 711 pages; only 89 to go before the Rough Draft is complete. I’ve been working on it since December of 2007, and it is quite the strange feeling to be this close to finishing the Rough Draft. Once the Rough Draft is complete, I will be spending a considerable amount of time each day going through it in the coffee shop, revising and editing and reshaping and remolding and adding and deleting. Basically making it even better. I have already sold 1000 copies of Book One and Book Two combined (I think I already mentioned this, but I am just too excited not to mention it again). Over the weekend I downloaded several planes for my flight simulator. I think tonight I will finish the first half of “Chapter 39: The Angels of Sunset Avenue” and then play some flight simulator? It is a Friday night, so campus is deserted. All the usual peeps are either out or at home. But that’s okay. Being alone is more conducive to my writing. And my writing is a big priority for me.

an excerpt: page 692

I finished the rough draft of “Chapter 38: Escapism & Shame” in Dwellers of the Night. It is a pretty intense chapter filled with dialogue, tension, a scene of intimacy, and flashbacks. The ending is pretty cryptic as well. I only have a few more chapters to complete, and then the rough draft is ready for editing and revising. Here is an excerpt from Chapter 38 (page 692 in the novel):

She is sitting in the chair facing the vanity, her back to him, the shoulder-blades pressed against bluish-purple, blood-deprived skin. Her head is bowed, as if in prayer, and across the mirror is a great wash of dried blood, molded into the shape of a wretched grin, which had inched its way down from its arc of splatter in great rivulets, spattering onto the vanity’s counter. The man moves forward slowly, around the side of the bed next to the vanity, and he sees that her front is covered with blood: the blood had flowed down over her breasts, down her stomach, between her legs, and pooled in a gelatinous puddle amidst her stone-cold feet. On the counter of the vanity are open containers of old makeup, but her face is hidden in the shadows. The bloodied bayonet is still clenched in the icy fingers of her right hand. He stands on the opposite side of the bed watching her. He feels nothing. His heart beats sluggishly behind his ribs. Hers doesn’t beat at all.

Dwellers of the Night: Update

Dwellers of the Night is coming along well. I only have approximately 100 more pages—and a few chapters therein—before it is complete. The rough draft will be 800 pages, and it will probably take me a month or two to edit and revise. After that point I will be pulling strings, and it will be available on Amazon.com. Good news: the first two installments of Dwellers of the Night (Book One and Book Two) have sold a combined total of around 1000 copies. This is pretty phenomenal, considering I have not marketed it in any way, size, shape, or form. Right now I am sitting outside the coffee shop, with an iced latte, and I am itching to write a good zombie scene. Here’s some inspiration for me…

a rant

In Romans class today, the professor asked a question about what an Old Testament reference meant in Romans 2, and one of my fellow students daringly raised his hand and gave an answer that pertained to a Jewish response to Christ. The professor proceeded to mock him—“Stop thinking about lollipops”—and the class smirked. Later, while working in the coffee shop, I heard some fellow students making fun of the kid. It really irked me, and here’s why: there is a sense of arrogance that is erected when people come to understand the Bible better. That arrogance becomes a certain type of pride, and the result is a condescending outlook on those who do not have the same knowledge. Yet it also works this way: we become intelligent, and we have our perspectives and interpretations, and we mock those who do not hold to the same views as being unintelligent. When studying Paul’s letters, a certain type of humility needs to be embraced, because we do not know Paul nor what he was thinking, and chances are our interpretations are flawed and imperfect. To mock someone because they do not make the same connection as you is ridiculous and prideful. Taking the student’s stance, I can see how he got to the conclusion he did, and his conclusion is valid if Paul were performing a Jewish technique called Midrash on the text. I agree with the professor on this one, but I respect the other student’s interpretation, because it is valid. I’m not really sure where this is going. I do a lot of study in Paul and the New Testament, and I am convinced that most of the time I have things wrong, and I am a firm believer that pride in intellectualism, especially with the Bible, is just as sinful as misplaced Jewish zeal for the Law.

the sixth week

Monday. The weather is phenomenal. It’s so nice to drive around with the car windows rolled down. I took Faikham to get her blood drawn, and then we went to Wal-Mart. I got several photos from Minnesota printed. I do miss it there. I spent the evening with Katie and Amanda. Emily invited me to go on a walk with her, so we went to the View and sat looking at the city and talking. She’s engaged to her fiancé who lives in Hamilton. She told me about how she was raped and molested, how she has so many insecurities. I know so many women who’ve gone through that, it’s insane. And heartbreaking.

Tuesday. Katie called me, terrified that she may be pregnant. Dylan refuses to talk about it. Jessie called me today, said, “We don’t hang out anymore.” Am I pushing her away? No. I’m just not drawn to the group she hangs out with: Justin and his cronies, not least the Wright Brothers. Both Emily and Ams called me at night for help on Acts of the Apostles homework.

Wednesday. I skipped Genesis 1-11 to work on Romans homework. Gambill told me Dyke keeps mourning my absences. I ate lunch with Ams (an Acai Berry Smoothie) and then napped listening to the raging 60mph winds shrieking outside my window. While in my ext class a HUGE storm rolled through, resplendent with thunder, lighting, and golf-ball-sized hail. I ate dinner with Stupid Farmer. Jessie and I got into a tiffle today, but we metaphorically kissed and made up. I spent the night with Mikaela in the Hilltop, talking and drinking smoothies.

Thursday. I skipped Geology to hang out with Kyle and to do homework. I went to dinner, felt suffocated by the crowd, and went back to my dorm room. Yay for isolation. The fire alarm went off, and Rick got chewed out by the firemen for boiling water on his stove for dinner. So ridiculous.

Friday. I was going to go home tonight but decided against it. Instead I went to the Hilltop, drank two lattes, and studied Romans. Katie and I watched some movies on her laptop in Student Life. Isaac invited me to go out with to The Anchor at 1 AM, but I was way too tired.

Valentine’s Day. I got breakfast at The Anchor and even woke early enough to see the sunrise. Faikham and I went to the library to do homework. I went to Mariemont down OH-50E, a quaint little down thrust against a backdrop of Indian hills, went to the old chapel and sat on the stone wall encircling the romantically-styled graveyard. I went to a Starbucks there and got an iced coffee. Ams and I went to an art show in Loveland with Sarah, and then I went to Isaac’s apartment. He was throwing a party, and lots of great people were there. I spent the night at Justin’s condo, which is downtown overlooking the Ohio River and Newport across the way. Faikham, Jessie, and Amanda came along, and Faikham fixed us some Thai food. I barely remember most of the evening: I had seven shots of bourbon whiskey and scotch. Nate, Kirby and I laughed at my sexual exploits in the back of Nate’s truck during my days with Courtney. By the time Jessie, Faikham, Justin, and Ams picked me up, I was pretty hammered. Amos ran out to the car with me and then fell flat on his face. I tried picking him up but fell over too. We went to Kroger, and Faikham kept watch over me. “You’re too drunk to be on your own,” she said. The aisles seemed to shimmer as I walked, and I tripped over one of those red cones they put out to tell you there’s a puddle of water. “Why didn’t you warn me about that?” I demanded of Faikham. She looked at me funny, said, “What?” “The cone!” She pointed, and I looked behind me, and there was nothing there. I’m not supposed to drink alcohol while on Abilifi; that’s probably why I got so fucked up.

Sunday. I spent the night throwing up Thai noodles at Justin’s aunt’s condo, and we returned to campus around 10:00. I slept until late in the afternoon and grabbed a light lunch from Rally’s. Something greasy to appease my stomach. The hangover isn’t awful, just an annoyance. The cold shivers are pretty awful, though. Katie let me into the Hilltop at 5:30 to get some Sierra Mist mixed with OJ. Ams and I went to Rally’s for dinner (yes, twice in one day).

"Where is Martin Luther when you need him?"

indulgences returning to cincinnati

my saturday

I had such a great day yesterday. I awoke at 7:15 a.m., unable to go back to sleep, so I put gas in my car down on 8th Street and then headed across the river into Covington. There is an excellent diner off 12th Street, The Anchor Grill. Some of the best food I’ve ever had. I ordered a cup of coffee and some dry toast, and I sat and worked on my Greek for a while. Afterwards I went to Mariemont, Ohio, a quaint little town set along the river with the backdrop of the Indian hills. I went to the small chapel there and worked on my speaking message for Tuesday night—“The Christian Hope”—and then went to the Starbucks there in town. I returned to campus and spent some good time with my friend Kyle, and then Amanda and I went to Loveland to go to an art show. Such fantastic artwork. My friend Sarah (not to be confused with Faikham, my Thai friend, who is named Sa-Rah) came along with us, because she has a friend with a studio there. Afterwards, I went to my friend Isaac’s apartment. He was throwing a party, and a lot of people from work were there. We hung out, sat around, talked, laughed, told stories. Pulled pranks. It was great. I spent the night at my friend Justin’s condo, which is downtown and overlooking the Ohio River and Newport, Kentucky. Sa-Rah, Jessie, and Amanda came along, and Sa-Rah fixed us some Thai food. It was delicious. Here is a picture of Sa-Rah after shouting at me, “Do you know how to use a knife?!” in her precious Thai accent:

a quote

Because genuine faith is focused on the cross, one’s faithfulness to Christ is not measured by spiritual gifts or by wisdom or by knowledge, but, rather, one’s faithfulness to Christ is measured by degrees of sacrifice and suffering.

the enslaving nature of sin

I have been working on an exegesis of Romans for several months ago. Earlier this week I finally finished the rough draft—247 pages—and I have been going through it, editing and revising, searching for errors, rewording and such of that nature. As I was going through what I wrote regarding Romans 1.18-32, something stuck out to me: The Enslaving Nature of Sin. It is my belief that the church has an anemic and even dangerous view of Sin, which I’ll write about tomorrow. But I just want to examine what Romans 1.18-32 says about the enslaving nature of Sin (note: I deal with this extensively in my Romans exegesis, several pages worth, so this is just a summary).

It begins with idolatry (Rom 1.18-23). Mankind suppresses the truth of God for a lie and turns to worshipping idols. The essence of an idol is that it is created after the created thing. It is in the image of something God has created. The idols worshipped in St. Paul’s day were the gods of the Greco-Roman pantheon (in Romans 1.18-32, the list of idols he gives are Egyptian and Canaanite in characteristic, not Greco-Roman). Today’s idols include sex, wealth, fame, success, etc. The idol is enjoyable to serve because the idol in fact serves the self. As they were originally intended, the person begins worshipping an idol to indulge him or herself (it is ironic that the idol soon enslaves the person; yet, it is not the idol doing the enslavement but the power/force of Sin). The result of turning to idols and forsaking God is that mankind becomes foolish, and our hearts are darkened to the truth.

Because of idolatry, God displays His wrath by “giving them up…” (1.24-25) God honors mankind’s decision, and He allows Sin to enslave and bond and overcome the person. The result is that people are under the whips of Sin, and Sin is driving them to and fro, pushing them deeper and deeper into immorality. Sin takes hold completely and warps the Body, Mind, and Soul (Rom 1.26-32; also 3.10-18). Sin turns the person into an unnatural creature, warping even a person’s sexual activities. Sin fills the person and leads them forward into even more vices and wickedness. All the while, mankind is enslaved but laughing and gloating in glee, even encouraging others to do the same things they are doing. Sin takes total control, and the person, though able to make decisions, is under that control; although a person may even genuinely want to do good, that person is unable to quit sinning because of Sin’s domineering power over them. And thus mankind is enslaved to Sin.

I know these thoughts are discombobulated, and for that I apologize.
It is 11:53 p.m. and I am tired.

some words of Thomas a' Kempis

Christ exhorts us to imitate His life and His ways, if we truly desire to be enlightened and free of all blindness of heart. Let it be our main concern to meditate on the life of Jesus Christ.

If you want to understand Christ’s words and relish them fully, you must strive to conform your life to His.

This is the highest wisdom: to despise the world and [to] seek the kingdom of heaven.

It is vanity to seek riches that are sure to perish and to put your hope in them. It is vanity to pursue honors and to set yourself up on a pedestal. It is vanity to follow the desires of the flesh and to crave things which will eventually bring you heavy punishment. It is vanity to wish for a long life and to care little about leading a good life. It is vanity to give thought only to this present life and not to think of the one that is to come. It is vanity to love what is transitory and not to hasten to where everlasting joy abides.

a boring and mundane existence

My entries have been sporadic, and this is due the hectic lifestyle I lead.
Actually, my life is pretty mundane.
I try to make it exciting.
But when you don’t have any money or a car to get off campus…
And yet I do find time to get to know people better, and to make friends.
Here are some pictures of me and my peeps.
(I turn to pictures when I have nothing important to say)

the fifth week

Monday. The new depression meds are giving me blurred vision and an aching body. I missed my first class, worked 9:45-1:00, and then I took Faikham to WalGreens before class until 6:00. Faikham decided she wanted to go to WalGreens again, and Katie, Deshay, and Ams joined us. Katie and I had a cigarette together, and then she went off with Dylan.

Tuesday. I fell asleep while peeing in the bathroom, and my fall into the stall next to me jolted me awake. I almost fell asleep in Romans, and I was exhausted through my shift at the Hilltop. I skipped Geology to nap, and Stupid Farmer played Flight Simulator 2004 while I slept. I went to dinner with Ams & Jessie, and then I went to the Hilltop to hang out with Katie while she worked. Our friendship is growing, and I like it. Hensel did floor devos, and afterwards we went for a drive around the snow-covered hills. When we came back Rick caught us and asked us if we’d been smoking (it’s against the rules). I went to his office and confessed my ongoing struggle (if you can call it that) with tobacco and depression. It was a good talk, and he told me just to make sure I didn’t let him catch me doing it again or his hands would be tied.

Wednesday. Jobst spent the night in my dorm room last night because of 8” of snow. He, Gambill and I went to breakfast to discover that all morning classes were cancelled due to a 2-hour delay. I went to the Hilltop where I drank lots of coffee and hung out with Katie. She confessed that she and Dylan had sex last night. She said she loves him. “No,” I said. “You love the idea of him, the idea of loving and being loved. You slept with him not because you loved him but because you wanted to capture, if but for a moment, the intimacy of two lovers. But the sex was empty and hollow, because you can’t capture that.” She wept and confessed, “You’re right.”

Thursday. Gambill, Kugler, Deshay, Ashley M. and I got breakfast in the Golden Eagle before our classes. Romans  went well. I may move up a row, sit beside Mandy K. But I don’t know if she’d think I was hitting on her or something. I went to the Hilltop to hammer out a paper. I ate lunch with Jessie, went to Geology, and then Ams, Katie and I went to The Anchor. I had a goetta omelette, toast, coffee and cigarettes. I locked my keys in my car. Katie was pissed. We got them out ½ and hour later and returned to campus. I felt sad about my failures with women, and Jessie comforted me, saying, “Beast, you’re a great guy. You really love people. You’re smart, wise, and funny. Everyone who knows you calls you a great friend. You’re a popular, lovable guy, and one day a girl is going to fall in love with you, marry you, and have your children?” God, I hope so. And that is indeed a prayer.

Friday. Stupid Farmer and I ate breakfast in the Golden Eagle before our classes. I worked until 1:00 and then ate lunch with Ams, Emily, and Jessie. Karen and I hung out for a bit. She’s officially dating Brian know. She told me about their “sex-capades.” Oddly enough, it doesn’t bother me. I never really loved her. I went to Dayton at 4:30 and spent the day studying Romans. I lit a fire in the hearth and drank wine.

Saturday. I spent the morning drinking Deshay’s Christmas gift (Venezuelan coffee) and studying Romans. It’s difficult but enlightening. The weather was warmer, the snow’s beginning to melt. Ams spent a couple days in Kentucky with Aunt Teri, and after she did laundry at home, we returned to campus. Klink, Gambill, Kyle, Faikham and I hung out in the Rine lobby. Jessie and Ams joined us but left early to eat at TGIF with Justin and Dylan W. Faikham and I loaded into Gambill’s car and went to Steak & Shake for delicious milkshakes. We returned to campus and went to Student Life and played ping-pong. Jessie told me she and Justin had their first date tonight at his aunt’s condo on the river: dinner, a movie, and holding hands.

Sunday. Ams and I went to Tri-Health up I-71 to visit Sarah. She fed us, and then we went to Kenwood Mall, and when we got back I watched The Reaping with Kyle. Jobst was on campus and needed a ride home, so I hooked him up. At 6:30 Kyle, Gambill and I went to the Hilltop for dinner. Katie made me a surprise drink. I called Jessie to hang out, but she was at the condo with Justin again.

a few photos from the weekend

The Nature of the Church: Its Members, Identity, and Purpose

The Members of the Church. The church is not a building; it is a gathering. The Greek word used for church is ekklesia, and this word, in the ancient world, literally referred to a gathering of people called out from their homes to a public place to meet for an assembly. When St. Paul applies this word to Christians, he is speaking of members of God’s covenant who are gathering together; thus, while the dictionary proposes first-and-foremost that the church is a building for public Christian worship, the original sense of the church is the gathering itself. Who, though, are the members of the Christian church? When talking about members of the church, we are talking about those who are participants in the gatherings. In the days of the New Testament, there were gatherings spread all throughout the Mediterranean world, from the hills of Judea to—eventually—the mountains of Spain. These churches gathered, for the most part, in homes, and they were comprised of those who had come to faith in Christ. The Apostle Paul wrote letters to several different churches, especially around Greece and Turkey, and even to Italy (i.e. his epistle to the Romans). In Romans 1.7, as we have already seen, Paul identifies the members of the Roman church as those who are “loved by God and called [to be] saints.” Remember, the “to be” was added into the text (in the original Greek, it is not present). Paul is not advocating that the Christians in Rome need to start living holier and holier in order to become saints; he is not advocating the Catholic doctrine of “infused righteousness”; in the Greek, Paul is calling the Christians in Rome “loved by God and called saints.” Thus he is calling the Christians “saints.” They don’t need to work to be saints; they already are saints. In Ephesians and Philippians, Paul again uses this terminology. The Greek word for “saints” is hagios, and in the Jewish world, it meant something “set apart for God”; in the Greco-Roman world, it referred to “a holy thing.” Christians, then, are “holy people, set apart for God.” Paul identifies the members of the church as “saints”, and this term—used for those who are “in Christ”—influences the identity of the church itself.

The Identity of the Church. In 1 Corinthians 14.33, Paul reveals the identity of the church; in this text, he advocates orderly worship in all the churches of the saints. Thus, for Paul, the church is a gathering of saints. It has been said, in popular Christian culture, that the church is a hospital for sinners, not a sanctuary for saints. This is witty, but it is ultimately flawed. The church is not a hospital for sinners—interestingly, in the lens of Judaism and in the lens of which the New Testament was written, a “sinner” is not one who sinned, necessarily, but one who is outside God’s covenant. For someone in New Testament times to make the claim that the church is a hospital for sinners, the person would basically be saying that the church is a gathering of those outside God’s covenant! However, as Christians, who have shared in Christ’s death and resurrection in baptism, the members of the church are members of God’s covenant, called saints.

The Purpose of the Church. The church is a gathering of the saints, who are joining together for a purpose. That unifying purpose is the advancement of the gospel. The gospel’s advance is not limited by how many people come to Christ; rather, the advancement of the gospel is measured by how many people hear the gospel message and are given the opportunity to respond. Their response—whether positive or negative—does not affect whether or not the gospel message has advanced. A negative response by a person is not an indictment upon the gospel’s advance. The ultimate purpose of the church is the advancement of the gospel, and everything that takes place within the assemblies—from fellowship to service, etc.—falls under the pail of the advancement of the gospel. Sometimes, churches are unable to function correctly; that is, they are unable to proclaim the gospel and to make an impact on the society and culture in which the church exists. This was quite a concern of Paul; one brilliant example of this is the Corinthian church. The Corinthians were failing to live as a reconciled community, erecting divisions between various social classes, taking one another to court, etc. On top of all this, they were indulging in all kinds of wickedness that made even the pagan world shake their heads in shock and awe! The result of these divisions, conflicts, and immoralities was that the gospel message, though being proclaimed, was having no affect. No one had any desire to partake in the new religion of the Corinthian Christians; the Corinthian Christian community was one of divisions and immorality, and the Corinthians had enough of that, with social barriers erected all over town and hundreds of prostitutes waiting at the Temple of Aphrodite, asking for not even a penny for their services. St. Paul’s epistle to the Corinthians—1 Corinthians—deals with these issues. When it comes to his letter to the Romans, it is obvious that the Roman church is failing to operate in such a way that the gospel message can be communicated; when the church is rife with disorder and disunity, such as is the case with the Roman church where Gentiles lord over the Jews and the sync of community is shattered, the church is unable to do its job. St. Paul’s epistle to the Romans deals with this in a practical manner throughout Romans 12.1-15.7.

my South Park avatar

Romans 13.11-14: The Church As An Eschatological Uprising

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. (Romans 13.11-14)

“Besides this” refers back to what Paul has just written regarding the lifestyle of love that is required of the Christian community. Now Paul gives a reason to live this way: because the church is an eschatological uprising, an eschatological community, which bathes in a world drenched in darkness and sin, and as members of the eschatological community—called the church—the Christians therefore are to live in the light of the parousia—the light of the coming of Christ and the inauguration of God’s full-blown kingdom. Paul’s teaching involved the reality of the coming parousia (see 1 Thess 1.9-10, 4.13-18, which Paul wrote prior to writing Romans), and now he is drawing upon what the Roman Christians undoubtedly have been taught by the evangelizing leaders, and he is exhorting them to live in the light of the coming return of Christ. Paul does this beautifully and epically, utilizing apocalyptic imagery.

Paul’s usage of light and darkness as metaphors is an example of this apocalyptic imagery. He writes that the night is far gone and the day is at hand (thus the present time, what one could call “the time between the times”, is the dawn). He calls the way of living in the darkness “the works of darkness”, and Christians are to cast off such works and put on “the armor of light”—the lifestyle demanded of the Light (that is, God’s full and realized kingdom). He emphasizes this again by writing “Let us walk properly as in the daytime” (emphasis mine): Paul acknowledges that the Daytime—the restoration of the universe with the parousia—has not yet arrived, but Christians are to nevertheless live within this framework.

Paul writes that it is time for the Christian community in Rome to wake from sleep. “Sleeping” and its subsequent terms were used in Greco-Roman philosophy to refer to being inattentive to spiritual things; Jesus uses this language in the same way in Mt 24.43 and Mk 13.36. Paul may be referring to the antinomians in the church, addressing them specifically, telling them to wake up and start living as they should be living—that is, in the light of the parousia, living the life of God’s full and realized kingdom—the Daylight—in the here-and-now—the Dawn.

Paul describes what it means to live in the light of the Day. He writes that the Christians are to “cast off” the works of darkness and to “put on” the armor of light. Paul uses this same language in Colossians 3.12-14, where it is linked with baptism. The same language was also used in the early church to refer to repentance. “Which is Paul referring to here?” It is most likely that he is speaking of repentance, which involves turning one’s back on a lifestyle that is antithetical to the desires of God and embracing a lifestyle that is in accordance with the desires of God. Once again, this hints that this may be aimed at the antinomians in the church. However, Paul could also be using this language in the baptismal sense—“You have been baptized into Christ! Act like it!” would be the equivalent. Other scholars believe that Paul is simply borrowing Greco-Roman philosophical language, where “putting on” refers to adopting a moral lifestyle. Whichever route is taken, the end result is the same: the Christians are to abandon the works of darkness and to embrace the armor of light (philosophers often described the battle with the passions in athletic or military imagery; this popular imagery infiltrated Jewish writings of the day, such as the Wisdom of Solomon, where Moses’ armor or weaponry is prayer and incense).

It is worthwhile to note how Paul describes the “works of darkness”—orgies, drunkenness, sexual immorality, sensuality, quarreling, and jealousy. Orgies, drunkenness, sexual immorality, and sensuality were classic trademarks of pagan parties, where all the vices mentioned were practiced late into the night. While it may seem that Paul is simply condemning pagans, we must remember that Paul is writing to the Roman Christians, and that he would not be mentioning this if it were not an issue within the church. Remember from Romans 6-8 that antinomians in the church were delving head-first into sin, preaching that God’s grace covered their blatant immorality. The culture of Rome consisted of such parties, and no doubt many of these antinomians were engaging in them without a care in the world. It is likely that Paul is again directly combating them, condemning their pagan revelry—“This is not in line with your identity in Christ, with your baptismal life, so stop it now!” Paul also mentions quarreling and jealousy—internal dissension. This is a perfect lead-in for what he deals with in Romans 14.

The church is God’s eschatological community, called to live holy lives in the patient expectation of Christ’s second coming and the total victory of God. As the church waits, it is to live as if God’s victory has already been made complete. In a sense, the Christian community is to model “heaven on earth”; it is to exist as a radical, counter-cultural community where the virtues of love, selflessness, sacrifice, servitude, and generosity trump the “works of the darkness” such as selfishness, greed, and indifference towards both God and man. The church, as a collective whole, is to model the character of Christ—it is, after all, the Body of Christ—and to exist as a microcosm, an ecosystem, of the kingdom of God here-and-now.

it is hope that keeps us alive

There was a time in my life when I was suicidal.

I remember standing on a bridge over the Ohio River, wanting to throw myself off.

I remember staring at that inky black water that refused to reflect even the full moon’s radiance.

I remember wanting nothing more than to leap, to feel the wind, to feel the water… and then to feel nothing.

Hope is a beautiful and dangerous and wonderful and painful thing. I have always been fond of describing hope this way: “Hope is like barbed wire: the tighter you hold on, the more painful it gets.”

What is the function of Hope? Why does it exist? Do we hope simply because it is a fantastical escapism from the painful realities of ordinary life? Or do we hope because we know, deep down within our hearts, that something is wrong with the world, that something isn’t quite right, that the life we’re living NOW isn’t the life that we were DESIGNED to live? At one time I believed that hope found its source in man’s fantasies and imaginations, that hope was a cocktail of desire for something more and desire for less of what we have. But I have been thinking about hope, and I believe that hope is something that is nestled deep within every human creature, a small element that speaks to us in whispers and dreams and fairy-tales, telling us that what we experience HERE and NOW is not what we were MEANT to experience. Hope tells us that there’s something missing within our universe, within our lives, within ourselves. It tells us that there is more to be grasped, that there is the possibility of a greater and more wonderful life, a kind of life that we were designed to experience.

Isn’t it odd that when you try to suffocate hope, hope refuses to die? It has been said that when you kill hope, you embrace resignation–the acceptance of fate as “an elegant, cold-hearted whore.” I don’t think that’s right. I think that when you try to kill hope, hope refuses to be killed. Because when you kill hope, you have killed everything within you that speaks of a greater world. And when you kill hope, the only permissible fate is suicide. Because without hope, we are left to understand the world as a brutal, unforgiving, relentless world where suffering reigns and happiness is an illusion. And if that understanding–as false as it may be–is called one’s own, then that person will, ultimately, kill him(her)self.

I didn’t throw myself from that bridge.

I went back to the car, got inside, and drove home. I was suicidal for five more months.

Every day and every night I wept.

I became a recluse, and I started cutting myself.

But never deep enough to drain my body of four pints of blood.

“What was it that kept me alive, what was it that kept me from drawing the knife against my wrist, kept me from tightening the noose around my neck, kept me from swallowing countless pills, kept me from driving my car at 90-mph into the median, kept me from throwing myself from that bridge?”

It was hope within me.

Small. Seemingly inconsequential.

But it was there.

And it showed itself in my tear-stained journals, daring to reveal itself through the pen.

Hope is a beautiful and dangerous and wonderful and painful thing.

It is hope that keeps us alive.

the fourth week

Monday. I didn’t fall asleep until 3 AM and missed Genesis 1-11. I barely made it to my 9:45-1:00 shift on time. Ams and her roommate Emily came in to keep me company. I ate lunch with Karen in the coffee shop, surprised that it wasn’t awkward, and then I slept until 3:10 before heading to President’s Hall for The Gospel of Mark. Gambill and Kyle are taking it, too. At 6:00 we went to dinner in the cafeteria. Faikham and I hung out for most of the evening. She cried because she’s been homesick a lot lately and she misses her mom. I tried cheering her up by buying her a hot chocolate. She got cheery again, and we sat on the sofa in Student Life and looked at pictures on Google Images of her hometown in Thailand.

Tuesday. All classes were cancelled today because of a foot of snow, so I slept in till about 10:00 and walked to Summit View for a cigarette. Jessie and I worked at the Hilltop, and I spent my shift shoveling snow from the sidewalks around the café. Faikham and I made snow angels, and we went sledding and I sliced open my finger on the jagged ice. I built a kickass igloo with Nate and Kirby, and I couldn’t feel my feet for three hours. We had a mandatory dorm meeting in Foster Hall. Jobst spent the night in my dorm room because he couldn’t get back to his apartment.

Wednesday. Another snow day. My sliced finger hurts. I ran out of smokes so I walked down Glenway Avenue to the footstop. It was eerie. No snow has been cleared, there were no cars, just deadness. I spent most of the day in the Hilltop with friends: Faikham, Jessie, Deshay, Stupid Farmer, Mikaela, Kyle, Gambill, and Ams. A bunch of got together to watch the show Arrested Development on a projector. At night Justin came into my dorm room, sat down, and talked to me about Jessie. It’s official: they book like each other.

Thursday. School is back in session. I slept through my morning shift at the Hilltop. I went to Geology with Jessie, and then we went to the café to hang out. At 5:00 Mikaela showed up, and we went to the Oratorium and got to know one another. At dinner, Katie sat down with the Wright Brothers, and not wanting to be seen with her, they got up and left. So I left my table with Jessie and went to sit with her. After dinner Katie and I went to the Worship Ministry building and talked; she told me about her relationship with Dylan Wright. It broke my heart, it really did. I almost wept for her. She’s been so manipulated, used, and abused. She is privately praised and publically shunned. She’s been beaten and bloodied and left abandoned in a pool of her own tears. She’s been ravaged, and she’s in need of rescue, redemption, resuscitation. I felt numb after we talked, and I crawled into my bed and wept. I didn’t weep for me but for her.

Friday. It took me thirty minutes to get my car out of the snow. Katie and I had lunch together. Ams and I drove to Dayton separately for a meeting with Dad at our bank. Chris came over for a while, and we hung out. Jessie called me late in the night, crying. “Beast, you’re pushing me away.” I denied it. But what if she’s right? What if I am pushing her away? What if, due to my conscious fears of losing her to Justin, I am subconsciously doing exactly what she claims I am doing? Maybe I believe that pushing her away will lessen the pain of losing our friendship?

Saturday. I worked at 11:00, showered, and went to Joe’s clinic. New depression medicine and some high-tech bandages for my gruesome finger cut. I got my hair cut short and spent the afternoon drinking coffee and working on Dwellers of the Night. I returned to campus around 8:00, went to the Hilltop and hung out with Kyle, Jessie, and Katie. Gambill joined us. He was in a bad mood. I played a game of Outburst with Kugler, Deshay, Faikham, Avon, and Katie M. Back in the dorms Stupid Farmer and I played Flight Simulator 2004.

Sunday. I was sick most of the day, and I slept until 5 PM. I spent the evening hanging out with Katie, Deshay, Justin, and Ams. I took Faikham to WalGreens, and she told me, “You’re so cute.” She was in a good mood. A bunch of people went to Steak & Shake, but Faikham and I just headed back to campus and hung for a while in the Worship Ministry building.