saturday sushi

My good friend Jobst came into town and treated me to sushi at Kabuki down the road from my house. He demanded that I go all-out, so I got the sushi deluxe. Twenty dollars of tasty goodness (and we also had, not pictured, mussels). The deluxe came with a spicy tuna roll and several different pieces of sushi over rice. Crab, lobster, tuna, salmon, yellow tail, shrimp, calamari, and something else (snapper, maybe?). We were also served some salmon roe (salmon eggs), but they tasted like the Atlantic ocean. Not too good. Everything else, however, was amazing. Our waitress was really nice, too. She kept hanging around our table, chatting us up, and she brought us some samples, and we talked about movies and U.F.C. and she invited us out to BW3s next door for some beers and to watch the game, and her manager came over and told her to start doing her job. It was pretty funny. We didn't join her at BW3s (although, to be honest, she was quite cute; and I am quite certain she flirted with me); instead we went to D.L.M. for dessert (creme brule) and beer (Great Lakes Christmas Ale). We went back to my place and sat by the fireplace and drank beers and talked for a while. It was a great time, and it was good to see him.

I've only got two more chapters to finish before the rough draft of "Re:framing Repentance" is complete. Towards the end of a project, I find that my motivation to finish it greatly decreases. Each sentence, each paragraph, each section becomes a chore. I have the chapter outlines all hammered out, and all I need to do is sit down and actually write them. But I have no energy, no motivation. Perhaps this is a good thing? I don't know. I hope to have the rough draft completed before the end of this month, though I doubt that will happen. We'll just see how it pans out. In the meantime I'm changing things up and throwing together a bible study for 1 Peter. It's going to be extremely short (in my opinion), and the best part is how I am getting away from all the hype and controversy around Paul. I can sit back, sigh a breath of relief, and be labeled "orthodox" for a little while. 

Kyle and I were sitting in the cafe a few days ago. He was preparing for a sermon, debating between a text from Lamentations and 1 Peter (he is studying 1 Peter as well, along with J.J.; it's the new hype). He told me my boy N.T. Wright has come under a lot of flack lately, and it's true: folks from both the conservative (namely evangelical reformed) and liberal camps have been taking more and more swings at him as of late. Since I've brought several N.T. Wright books to work to read on my lunch, apparently people think I'm an N.T. Wright junkie, as if I gather my theological convictions from whatever comes from the tip of his pen. While I find Wright enlightening, intriguing, and puzzling, I certainly don't agree with everything he writes. I also read a lot of Wayne Grudem (a champion of Reformed theology), as well as the works of several well-versed arminian theologians. My theological views are derived not from a single scholar but from an array of sources: professors, other books I've read, personal studies (and not to mention biases and personal experiences). Lumping someone into a theological category fails to give respect the dynamic and evolving nature of one's theology. Not to say that I don't do this myself; but we seem to see things when the rifle's scope is pointed at our own hearts. My fingertips are, oddly, freezing. So that's the end of this post.