the 11th* week

President's Day. I worked 6:30-12:30, a slow day because of the holiday. Monday Nights was a blast. The Walking Dead ended on a cliffhanger. And I was so excited to let Blake through the Loth House front door that I tripped and fell flat on my face in my hurry to embrace him.

Tuesday. I went to The Anchor before my 10:30-2:00 shift, and then I spent the evening playing Assassin's Creed III and watching "Skyfall," the new James Bond movie. Adele sings the opening song :). I had Wendy's for dinner. So, yeah, an exciting day.

Wednesday. I spent the afternoon after work playing video games and listening to music. I went over to Ams' place back in the ghetto for a bit. "My car sounds like it's about to lose its shit." Josh joined us, and we watched Monty Python's tour of New Europe. It was interesting? I got to talk with the Wisconsinite for a bit, and then I passed out something awful.

Thursday. My car wouldn't start this morning. Luckily I was able to catch a ride to work with Blake and a ride home with Ams (I made her a delicious hot chocolate as payment). Dad came down to check things out: the battery cables are all out-of-whack. We temporarily fixed it, and the car's running again, albeit loud and in fits and starts. Our attempt at patching the exhaust pipe miserably failed. With the car running I grabbed Wendy's for dinner and spent the evening at the Loth House with John & Brandy.

Friday. I worked 6:30-1:30. Mears' car broke down, and she failed to inform us of a catering order, so come noon some guy comes in asking where all his salads and sandwiches are. Eric, Frank and I busted our tails and were able to get the order out without it being too late. I headed over to the Loth House to hang out with John & Brandy. My car was acting funny, so I tried tightening the clamps on the battery terminals and snapped a bolt right off. John ran Brandy and Missy downtown to Rock Bottom for Girls Night, and then we ran by the hardware store in Clifton and did an ok job patching it up. I was able to make it home, so that's a plus.

Saturday. I had McDonald's for breakfast and spent all day cooped up inside: I don't trust my car for any unnecessary driving. I watched lots of The West Wing, did a good bit of writing, played video games, and "took a walk to ease my troubled mind," ending up at UDF and sipping some coffee on my way back to the house. The sun felt warm on my neck, I liked that. Ams came over and took me to Chipotle for dinner, and we watched a couple episodes of The West Wing before she headed out.

Sunday. I took a cold walk to UDF for some Highlander Grogg and spent the morning watching Ken Burns' The War and listening to a sermon online (lifechurch.tv "Perspectives" series is pretty great) since I couldn't make it to U.C.C. thanks to my temperamental car. Mom & Dad came down, and Dad and I worked on my car a bit more but are still left with some weird issues. All of us plus Ams grabbed lunch at Gordo's Pub--blackened burgers with applewood smoked bacon and bleu cheese all around!--and then spent 2 1/2 hours at the Verizon store upgrading our phones: I got an IPhone 4S, pretty excited about it. My first real smartphone! Moving up in the world. Ams & I enjoyed a quiet evening hanging out with Isaac, Blake, and Jeff. Pizza was delivered and we watched the new James Bond movie, so good I watched it twice!

* This is actually the 11th week, not the 10th week. I can't count even with a calendar and calculator in hand.

where are you now?

It came to the end, it seems you had heard
As we walked the city streets you never said a word.
When we finally sat down, your eyes were full of spite.
I was desperate, I was weak, 
I could not put up a fight.

But where are you now? Where are you now?
Do you ever think of me?
In the quiet? In the crowd?

You were strangely less in pain than you were cold.
Triumphant in your mind of the logic that you hold.
You said no one would ever know
The love that we had shared.
As I took my leave to go, it was clear you didn't care.

Where are you now? Where are you now?
Do you ever think of me?
In the quiet? In the crowd?

And I hear of your coming and your going in the town.
I hear stories of your smile,
I hear stories of your frown.

And the darkness can descend, we can relish all the pain.
But I know that's what you love, 'cause you know I love the same.

But where are you now? Where are you now?
Do you ever think of me?
In the quiet? In the crowd?

i will wait

Well I came home like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms.
These days of dust which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun

But I'll kneel down, wait for now
And I'll kneel down, know my ground
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

So break my step and relent
Well, you forgave and I won't forget
Know what we've seen
And him with less
Now in some way shake the excess

'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

Now I'll be bold as well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh and fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies

And I'll kneel down, wait for now
I'll kneel down, know my ground
Raise my hands, paint my spirit gold
And bow my head, feel my heart slow

'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

whispers in the dark

You hold your truth so purely
Swerve not through the minds of men
The lie, it is dead
And this cup of yours tastes holy
But you know I was not that man
It's not my land.

And my heart was colder when you'd gone
I lost my head but found the one that I loved

It's not what I do that makes me
In my weakness I grew strong
Held my tongue
And I've learned from errors made early
A brush with the devil can clear your mind
And strengthen your spine

But fingers tap into what you were once
And I'm worried that I blew my only chance

Whispers in the dark
Steal a kiss and you'll break a heart
Pick up your clothes and curl your toes
Learn your lesson, lead me home
Spare my sins for the ark, I was slow to depart
I'm a cad but I'm not flawed, I set out to serve the Lord.

But my heart was colder when you'd gone
I lost my head but found the one that I loved
Under the sun, Under the sun

And fingers tap into what you were once
And I'm worried that I blew my only chance.

But my heart was colder when you'd gone
I lost my head, but still when we were young
When we were young

the 9th week

Assassin's Creed III: simply amazing.

Monday. Frank & I closed, and we were out b 4:00. Monday Nights kicked off the mid-season premier of The Walking Dead. Rick's losing it, and shit's about to go down between the prison and the town. John & Brandy, Blake & Traci, Dave, Isaac, Andy & Amos: a good crew. 

Tuesday. Eric & I opened. The afternoon was spent playing Assassin's Creed III, and after a southwest quesadilla and stuffed mushrooms for dinner, I rounded out the night with Ken Burns' The War: Pelilieu and MacArthur's return to the Philippines, the failure of Operation Market Garden and the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge.

Wednesday. I opened with Dave, came down with something awful, and Amos was kind enough to cover the second half of my shift. I drove home amidst snow and spent the morning and afternoon recuperating with Netflix and naps. Mo came over around 6:00, and we ran to Kroger and fixed a surprisingly delicious meal: penne pasta with mushrooms, broccoli, and asparagus; and we paired it with a garlic loaf. 

Thursday. Today was a rough day, to say the least. Mo and I broke up. The incompatibilities were just too glaring, and it's one of those things where you try and make the best decision for both people involved and hope it works out. It sucks, it really does. I may have been the one to make the decision, but that doesn't mean it was easy, and as I write this now five days later, I can't deny that there remains pain and loss. She was one of my best friends, and by breaking up because of a distant future that wouldn't come to pass renders the present absent her presence. It sucks, it really does. But that's how dating goes, it's an awful thing, but it's part of the fabric of the American experience, I guess. I know she'll be okay: she has far more going for her than I do. I won't write anymore about this, because as I told Blake and Ams, I don't want to turn what happened into fodder for blog drama. She doesn't deserve that. 

Friday. I was sick all day: congestion, sneezing, clogged ears. At least the sore throat went away. These weather changes have been killer. I worked 6:30-1:00, left early because I felt awful, and took a long nap. I spent the evening playing Assassin's Creed III, and then hung out with Blake & Traci. Ams came over around 10:00, and a little bit later Brandy, John H., Isaac and Amos arrived. Brandy picked them up from downtown's Beer Fest, and they were already drunk off their feet. Amos passed out in the bathroom, gave himself a nasty bruise when he pitched forward against the toilet to relieve himself. Isaac stripped down to his boxers and John H. went stark raving mad. Ams left, and all of us minus Amos went over to the Happy Hollow. I had a few shots of whiskey and even more shots of pure, undiluted orange juice. Who else does that? Isaac went home to pass out, John H. started yelling "Fuck you!" to other patrons in the bar, and then (thankfully) he left. No one really felt like getting into a fight. Traci kissed me on the cheek, said, "I'm totally smitten by you!" and then she and Blake headed back to the house. Brandy & I chilled at the bar for a while, then headed back to the house where everyone was passed out. We stayed up till about 3 AM talking and listening to Of Monsters & Men. "You're so much like an old man in your mannerisms," she said. "Your forgetfulness, lack of observance, and general disconnect from the world around you doesn't help. It's weird, because I know you're brilliant, but you lack so much common sense!" Ha. I laugh because it's true.

Saturday. Brandy, John H., Isaac, Amos & I got breakfast at IHOP (pancakes and a fajita omelette!). Andy joined us, and then we hit up the Goodwill in Oakley before parting ways. I spent the afternoon cleaning and hanging out with Blake & Traci before The Anchor at 4:00 and Lothfestapalooza at 6:00: tons of beers, lots of snacks, so many great people. My favorite brews were the High Seas and Loose Cannons, but probably just 'cause I've been stoked about how my U.S.S. Constitution model is coming along. I didn't stay long, sleepy from last night's adventures, so I was home and in bed by 10:00.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor before hitting up the early service at U.C.C. Apparently the balcony is the introverts' section? On the main level, people are packed to the gills. But in the balcony, there's only about five or six people at the most, and we're spread out over twelve pews, no one in the same pew. Dr. Smith is usually up there, too, being the introverted type. It's how we roll. Amos, Andy & I met up for lunch at Dusmesh, and I spent the afternoon cleaning and doing laundry. Blake, Isaac and I went to the Happy Hollow (Isaac just got cranberry juice: "Recovery.") and Ams joined us.

02/17/13

Mandy Smith preached the third sermon in the 9 week series on God's forgiveness and love and how we're to respond to all that. She focused on 1 John 4.7-12, especially the main point: "God loved us first." Love is God's nature and the motivation for redemption. It's difficult to comprehend God's love. It's not a scientific formula we can memorize, it's a reality that is best divulged through stories and parables. And thus she gave a parable and a story from her own life, and because I don't feel it proper to share other peoples' stories on here, no matter if they're available on podcasts, I'm narrowing down these notes to just a few take-home pointers.

We believe lies about how God sees us, so our comprehension of his love is limited, and consequently our response to his love is limited. We're in need of constant reminders, in need of quiet to sit down and actually absorb all this. God declared the Sabbath following Israel's exodus from slavery in Egypt but before the giving of the 10 Commandments on Mount Sinai. Slaves don't get a day off, but children do, and the Israelites were no longer slaves but children. Taking the Sabbath as time to face the lies about our identities, to undress our insecurities and to stand stark naked before God as children and not as slaves, is more than a good idea: just as the Israelites had been raised to see themselves as slaves, and had lived in awful slavery for 400 years (twice as long as the United States has existed, to put that time in perspective), so in our own culture we're weighed down with all sorts of fears and baggage that keep us enslaved to the lies about how God sees us. We must name and uproot those lies that skew our perceptions not only of God but also of ourselves, and though such a struggle can be wearying, stressful, and scary, in the end it's wholly liberating, and our sails are unfurled and open to the wind.

Just as Christians may have to take an intellectual "leap of faith" to believing in God's existence (though it'd be unfair to think that this was something just Christians have to do; there are great areas of mystery and ambiguity within reality, and there's a lot we're not sure about, and those who profess to believe in God leap no further than those who deny his existence), so many of us have to take a second emotional "leap of faith" to believe God's love towards us. It sounds like a fairy tale, it really does, something that's too good to be true, hence the "leap of faith". But those who do take that leap are often marked by freedom, peace, and a sense that "all is well."

The real struggle is not identifying ourselves by the lies but by what scripture tells us. The battle is to understand ourselves through the light of God's love rather than through the lenses of our baggage, fears, and doubts. Because of this, taking a Sabbath, a day to focus on the lies and insecurities, to strip them down and expose ourselves before God as his children rather than as the purveyors of lies, is more than necessary: it's the door to experiencing the freedom that really is found in Christ.

Side-note: I can't pass the opportunity to write about our western sensitivity to our own guilt before God, and the way that sensitivity erects barriers and doubts in our minds regarding God's love towards us. There's a reason we feel the way we do, a reason that we so often find ourselves striving so diligently to earn God's love and favor, and it goes straight back to early 1600s England and the great Puritan migration across the Atlantic to Norumbega (now known as New England). The Puritans were a pretty fascinating sect of Protestantism, steeped in the fancy Calvinism of the day and breaking from corrupt England to create a bible commonwealth, a new world in America, that would issue in the one-thousand-year-reign of Christ's reign. I'm simplifying it, of course, but the point is that Puritan ideals didn't die away with the Puritans. Puritan thought-patterns have become so entwined in American thought that they're understood now as "American" ideals rather than "Puritan" ones. The insistence on diligence, hard work, and pulling yourself up by your own boot-straps, the path to the American dream, lies in Puritanism. The Puritans believed in double predestination, and wrapped up in that is the idea that God arbitrarily saves some and condemns others, and there's nothing we can or cannot do to warrant God's forgiveness. Protestantism would agree with at least half that, if not more (shout-out to you Reformed folk who've done well to shy away from double predestination), and because of that, no one really has any sort of assurance of salvation. There's a sort of assurance, and that's the measure of how much your life lives up to God's calling. Thus Puritans were known for constantly working, striving, reaching in their spiritual and economic lives, both to please God and to psychologically suave the pain of not knowing whether your demise would find cosmic bliss or eternal torment. Though the Puritans are all but gone, their ideals live on, and within American churches, we find this constant torment of our inadequacies, this constant struggle to live up to our forgiveness. We have psychological baggage that goes straight back to the Puritans! And I really had no choice but to share that with you. 

the 8th week

Tibbles & a Tiblet

Monday. Eric & I opened the store. Ana put in her two weeks: well, close to that--the 19th will be her last day. It'll be interesting to see how this pans out. A blizzard of sorts kept me pinned at home all evening, so I forewent The Anchor to work on my model, watch more Ken Burns (the conquest of Italy, horrors in the South Pacific, and gearing up for the invasion of France), and when Isaac got home we hit up the Happy Hollow before bed.

Tuesday. I slept in till about 9:00, got coffee from UDF, and spent the morning reading in the living room before closing shop with Frank. He & I joined Isaac, Ams, and Amos at Rock Bottom--Pint Night!--and Rebecca joined us later on. No less than four appetizers, nineteen beers, and several shots of liquor all "on the house." We reconvened at Amos' to hang out in the living room late into the night.

Wednesday. Dave & I opened, and after work I cleaned around the apartment and then went to The Anchor to do some writing before Date Night with Mo: moscato, 1889 salad, and chicken glorioso from Bucca di Beppo. "Glorioso" was aptly named, and we had TONS of leftovers (but they spoiled in the car).

Thursday. I covered Ana's F.P. shift and spent the afternoon playing video games. Mo came over, and we went to the Happy Hollow across the street. She passed out on the sofa in the living room and I played Assassin's Creed III: it's set in Boston, 1775! Pretty awesome.

Friday. Eric & I opened, and I went to The Anchor to do some writing and spent the quiet evening playing Assassin's Creed III and watching Ken Burns' The War: Saipan, the push towards Berlin in the east and the liberation of Paris in the west following D-Day.

Saturday. I went to The Anchor and caught up on the U.C.C. Sunday series so I'll be caught up for tomorrow. I met up with Amos at the Loth House and we chowed on Indian at Dusmesh. We headed back to his place to play video games and hang out with John & Brandy. John headed out for a beer tasting with a friend and Amos went to a six-year-old's superhero party with his buddy Todd from Cleveland, and Brandy & I chilled with Clover, who's in a sour mood and stoned on drugs following her "fixin' surgery." Back home the evening was spent hanging out with Mo, Blake & Traci, and Isaac and his brother John: Flight of the Concords, Call of Duty, Assassin's Creed III, and moscato paired with McFlurries.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor, picked up McDonald's for breakfast, and then Mo & I high-tailed it to U.C.C. The service was really good, on God's forgiveness (sermon 2 of a 9-week series). Mo wept. We ran into Dan Dyke. He complimented me, I think, by saying that I'm a little version of himself. If I end up like Dan Dyke when I'm his age, I'll be a happy camper. He's brilliant and awesome and an amazing storyteller. Plus he's insane. Or quirky? On the way back to the car after church, Mo said she LOVED the church, she might be addicted. "Is that the kind of church you wanted to work at?" she asked. "It was so awesome. So authentic, no smoke and mirrors, just a bunch of people who don't put on a show because the gospel's good enough on its own." She's excited to be getting back in church, and I am, too. I feared she'd be supportive but not invested, but her blatant enthusiasm tells me otherwise. She couldn't stop going on and on about it. We spent the afternoon hanging out with Blake, Traci, and Isaac. Ams came over, and Isaac fixed omelettes and roasted red potatoes for dinner. We went over across the street to the Happy Hollow for drinks, and some old dude tried to get Mo to play pool with him, but she declined. At least he was polite!

02/10/13

The first sermon in the series on God's forgiveness and love for us was pretty good, but this sermon actually rocked. Anthony J. posed the biting question: "Though we know God forgives our past sins, what about our future and present sins?" Forgiveness of our past sins came free-of-charge, so-to-speak, but does that mean that all of our sins forever are forgiven, or do we have to somehow achieve, or perfect, forgiveness post-conversion? If we die without repenting of this or that sin, will we have to go through some purgatory or even find that our redemption is bankrupt?

To answer this, he pulled our attention to Hebrews 10.1-4, a pretty great text, noteworthy enough to include: "For since the law has but a shadow of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered every year, make perfect those who draw near. Otherwise, would they not have ceased to be offered, since the worshipers, having once been cleansed, would no longer have any consciousness of sins? But in these sacrifices there is a reminder of sins every year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins." The old sacrificial system under Jewish law didn't get to the root of the problem, human sin, since offerings made year-by-year cleansed the sinner only of the sins built up over the preceding year. Sure, they may have had a blank slate going into the new year, but that wouldn't last too long at all, knowing the human condition. 

Skipping ahead to Hebrews 10.11-14, we find, "And every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified." 

Back to the main question: "Does God's mercy run out? And if and when it does, how do we get hold of more mercy and more forgiveness?" This kind of thinking has erected in western Christianity an unofficial sacrificial system: we sin, we work to get back in God's favor by Christian disciplines and behavior, we sin again, and we do it all over again, an endless cycle of striving for forgiveness and failing to live up to God's commands. This unofficial sacrificial system, like the official one under Jewish law, simply doesn't work. And even more-so, it's unnecessary. We strive to deal with our present and future sins on our own terms, and God's shaking his heads, probably thinking, Those dumbasses, because he's already dealt with ALL of our sin, past, present, and future, on the cross. Thus when I became a Christian, when I received forgiveness, I wasn't just forgiven for all the shit I'd done up to that point: Christ's sacrifice covered all the sins I would ever commit, unbeknownst to me, and by virtue of that I'm freed of having to strive and work to achieve constant and unfettered forgiveness. It's akin to me trying to dye my hair blond when it's already about as blond as it can get.

Hebrews 10.11-18 gives us a sweeping, panoramic overview of forgiveness and redemption. Christ did his work, and a fine work at that, and then he sat down. He sat down because the job was done, forgiveness was secured. The end result is that God no longer looks at our sin, at our guilt and our failures. He remembers them no more, a poetic way of saying that, quite simply, they no longer are. They're gone, extinguished, and we in turn stand before him as we truly are, not by virtue of what we've done but by virtue of what God has thrust upon us in forgiveness: we stand before him redeemed, whole, unblemished by sin. 

Really, it seems to good to be true, especially if we view forgiveness as a sort of business transaction. But the motivation for it, remember, isn't God's frugal business ethics but his undying love for us. This love, this grace, this mercy and forgiveness, it may seem too good to be true, but it's what scripture consistently testifies, even if we can't wrap our sin-warped minds around it. Forgiveness is all about God's love, and we are faced with the inability to describe it, only to witness its manifestations in the cross and resurrection, in forgiveness and redemption, in a certain hope and a promise. We don't have to constantly atone for our sins: God's pretty solid when it comes to figuring stuff out, and there's no reason to think he'd overlook present and future sins in his act of forgiveness. Indeed, the age of 70 times 7 has broken into reality: it's the age of forgiveness, an age characterized by unfettered grace and mercy and love, a forgiveness without limit. Our salvation is complete: it's been attained, accomplished, secured. Our future salvation, when we're made wholly new to live in a brave new world, is ensured. Coming to grips with that is tough, but it's liberating indeed. 

slow in coming...

Posts this month have been slow in coming, I can't deny it. Between reading, modeling, playing video games, hanging out with Mo, and working, I hardly have time to post anymore. Not that I'm leaving much out: I pretty much updated you on my life in a mere sentence. Nonetheless, I feel like a few updates might be noteworthy.

Mo & I. We're back together, and it's been going good. We've talked about a lot of our differences, the compromises we need to make, etc. We're trying it out, and it can be rough at times, but relationships are like that. Perhaps my own pie-in-the-sky romanticizing of relationships has made me uncomfortable in that relationship territory where you share your life with someone to the point that it's beyond dates and conversations to the sharing of the most mundane details of life. She's a wonderful woman, and everyone agrees. For once my sister and friends approve of one of my girlfriends without it being pity approval.

Studies. I've continued plowing through colonial American history, and just this week I wrapped up a study of the 13 British colonies (the famous ones; there were others, of course, like East and West Florida, colonies in Canada, etc. at the time of the Revolution; not ALL colonies rebelled, just most of them along the eastern American seaboard). Next up is a study of the political history of the colonies up to 1754, then a study of the French & Indian War followed by a few weeks researching the ins-and-outs of those events and attitudes that led up to the Revolution. Then the really fun stuff begins: an in-depth study of the American Revolutionary War, focusing on the major campaigns, battles, and characters. I know it doesn't sound as exciting to you as it does to me, but I don't care: I'm ecstatically thrilled.

Journals. As a past-time I've been doing Weekly Recaps for all the years of this blog. It's quite simple, seeing as I have journal entries dating from long before 2004 (when I first started this blog). It's a fun little exercise, jogging memories and feelings, seeing how my life's panned out. I've been working backwards in time, starting with what I've dubbed "The Dayton Days": my time at my parents' house in Centerville between the Lehman House and Claypole Avenue. Reading through these journals, transcribing them onto this blog, has been a sort of learning experience for me; or, rather, a re-learning of sorts. To be honest, these past several months, even this past year, has been riddled with all sorts of anxieties and fears. Everything was so clear before 2012, and I'm still trying to pick up the pieces. A lot happened, to be sure, but there are a few things that stand out in my mind as catalysts for this uncertain ambiguity that's befallen my life, an ambiguity marked best by those feelings of lostness, worry, and constant fretting. It's taken a toll on me physically and mentally, and I believe I may have pinpointed the ultimate source. The future road could be hard, but it's one of those things that, I'm learning, must be done, despite the difficulties: my life is, to a certain extent, in my hands, and if I wish to recapture the joy, peace, and purpose of those former days, changes need to happen, even if those changes won't be met with hugs and smiles all around. But such is the nature of things at times.

Okay. There's a brief update for you.

Also: my USS Constitution model is coming along nicely.

"That's gonna look badass," Isaac exclaimed.

Sure, so long as I don't break it before I finish it. Time will tell.

the 7th week

the happy hollow inn

Monday. Work was difficult knowing I wouldn't be seeing Mo, and Monday night was even lonelier. John & Brandy couldn't stay up late, so they just swung by Park Avenue in replacement of Monday Nights. After they left, the rest of us--Blake, Traci, Amos, Isaac, Ams and I--went to the Happy Hollow. At this rate, it could be our next Cheers. "If you have a group of six or more, the bar turns into your own private party!"

Tuesday. I went to The Anchor before closing with Frank. We were out by 4:10 and joined Isaac, Ams, Amos and Brandon over at Rock Bottom for beers and din-din. I had a Long Island Iced Tea (too much beer hurts my stomach) and their MASSIVE chicken fried chicken. I couldn't finish it. We meandered up Vine Street to Amos' place for an evening of video games with Johnny. "Brandy's in 87 degree Florida right now!" he moaned. But at least the biting chill of last week has receded. We hit the upper fifties today. It felt balmy.

Wednesday. I worked 6:30-8:30, covering a gap in the schedule, and after some time at The Anchor and a trot to the bank, I started on my U.S.S. Constitution model. Ams came over for a bit to do homework, and Isaac and I hit up the Happy Hollow and then watched a documentary on the Lost Fleet off Guadalcanal.

Thursday. Mo and I got back together. We "met up" (read: she parked and we walked across the street) at the Happy Hollow. Yes, we have our differences; yes, we have our concerns; but no, that doesn't mean we should just give up, it doesn't mean I should give up. So we're giving it another shot, putting more effort into the relationship, trying to compromise and sacrifice to make things work. Mo is so awesome, so fucking awesome, and it's incredible that she finds something of worth in a regret-laden, issue-soaked koala like me.

Friday. The roads were slick this morning, three inches of snow falling overnight. I worked 6:30-1:30, and Ams came over in the evening and we grabbed dinner at the Chinese Buffet down the street. It was surprisingly good, what with it being a grotty hole-in-the-wall joint (but I tend to like such places). I went to The Anchor to study the Dutch Empire in the 1600s, and the evening was spent at the Happy Hollow with Blake, Traci, Isaac & Andy. Mo was supposed to come but couldn't make it. We shot rum in honor of the famous pirate Henry Morgan and then headed back to the house where John (Isaac's brother) and his pal Audrey were hanging out. People filtered out, and Isaac & I watched some of Ken Burns' The War, all about WW2. Ken Burns is a beast.

Saturday. More snow fell overnight. I braved the roads yet again for coffee at The Anchor, and Ams & I met up at Dusmesh for lunch. The afternoon was quiet: reading and modeling. Mo came over, and Isaac joined us for drinks at Habits Cafe in Hyde Park. It's also known as Ostrich Cafe.

Sunday. Another snowy day. Mo & I planned on going to church at U.C.C., but morning plans changed when my car wouldn't start. The culprit: the damned subzero temperatures and a shitty battery. It'd been in the Celica since the turn of the century! I replaced it, and it seems to be working now. Mo & I got lunch at Cancun Mexico, and she went to study and I went to The Anchor. Back home Isaac & Ams made a kick-ass panini dinner, and Mo came over and we watched more Ken Burns (the North African campaign, bombing raids over Germany, the invasion of Italy... It's so good!). We also watched some "Bob's Burgers," also and always a classic.

02/03/13

University Christian Church is kicking off a 9-week study called "Because He First Loved Us," focusing on God's love for us, what that means for us, and how we're to respond to it. I'm really excited about it, and for the handful (and that's a liberal estimate) of people who might enjoy reading the notes I take from the sermons (as I'm an avid note-taker), I'm including them on here. The series focuses on 1 John 4, and I almost put it on this page in block text but decided it'd just take up too much room. Biblegateway it if you care. Okay, here's the recap from the first sermon.

1 John 4.16-21 is striking: it flat-out tells us that Christians have no fear of the final judgment, not because of anything we've done, but solely because of God's love for us. While a lot of us, most notably myself, struggle with the concept of judgment, the idea that God must punish rebellion and evil, including that which is in our own hearts and lives, such a struggle, and dare I say it fear, runs contrary to what the scriptures tell us. There is no fear in judgment. Judgment itself is a good thing, a beautiful thing; the psalmist portrays judgment as God restoring the world to its original goodness. Judgment is a purging, as if with fire, of all that has marred God's good creation. There is, of course, a negative side to judgment, but negative only from the perspective of those who warrant it. Christians, however, needn't fear the judgment, and if we understand forgiveness (and I mean really understand it), then we can perceive ourselves as we truly are and approach God with confidence, for God's perfect love casts out all fear.

When it comes to the gospel, there are at least two wrong approaches to it: arrogance and self-rejection. The spectrum traps us, leaving us with wither an inappropriate low view of ourselves or an inappropriately high view of ourselves. The spectrum colors our perception of the gospel. The one end of the spectrum, self-rejection, sees the gospel as pointing out all our flaws and failures, and we're left trying to make ourselves good enough, or we see that we can never be good enough and just stop trying altogether. On the other end of the spectrum, we may be arrogant enough to assume that the gospel, revolving around God's love for us, is a validation of our true selves, God approving who we are, not just the good but also the bad. But with arrogance, the answers to life's questions, like purpose and meaning, are left answerable only to ourselves.

The solution to self-rejection and arrogance is truly understanding forgiveness. Anthony Jones, who preached the sermon, brought to the spotlight that famous passage from Isaiah, written 700 years before Jesus. Up to the passage, Isaiah had been saying to corrupt and rebellious Israel, "You've been wicked and rotten, and you have to be judged!" But then come Isaiah 52.13-53.12, and Isaiah's tone changes: "Yes, you need to be judged. But though you are faithless, God is faithful, and He'll do something crazy to bring about redemption." The Christian reading of the passage sees Christ through-and-through. Christ's suffering is vicarious and substitutionary: he suffers for rebellious Israel and, in a wider lens, all of humanity. His suffering is our suffering, our due, placed on him by God. But before we see God as a sadist subjecting his own son to such a trial, let's not forget that Christ willfully submitted to it: he wasn't exactly thrilled to be tortured and executed, but he was still DTF. He didn't do it unwillingly, his hand wasn't forced. The purpose of this suffering is, according to Isaiah, that of a guilt offering: Jesus becomes a scapegoat for our sins, but we must adopt him as our guilt offering, we must embrace the fact that he sacrificed himself, weighed down by our own guilt, to carry our burden to the cross so he could finally, and fully, deal with it.

Because of our waywardness, rebellion, and wickedness, if God must be just, someone has to pay for the transgression and sin. That's OUR responsibility, of course. We're the ones who've muddied our hands, and bloodied them in some instances, and justice demands that we pay the price for the crimes we committed. No one can deny that's fair. But there's a kink in the machine, and it's quite simply God's love. God isn't some arbitrary Judge, disconnected from those standing guilty before him. He's overwhelmed with love for his rebellious subjects, and precisely because of that love, not out of obligation or duty, he wants to be reunited with us. And so he pay for our sins in Christ so that (a) justice is done and (b) we can be reunited with God.

It's simple, so fucking simple, but yet we get hung up, time and time again, on that little divine attribute called wrath. God isn't wrathful in spite of love, but because of love. An all-loving God must be wrathful (note: wrath isn't simply anger, but a righteous anger bent on putting things to rights). If God isn't wrathful, if he isn't discomforted in the least by evil and if he has no real aim to fix the problems that sprout up in his created world, then he can't really be loving. You've gone from Christian theism to deism, and you might as well go straight to atheism to be consistent. Justice and love are entwined, you don't get one without the other. God will make people pay for their evil. He doesn't just shrug it off. Our refusal to take ownership of our evil prevents us from seeing the extent of God's love and responding with gratefulness. Really, we need to truly see just how far in debt we are to God to understand God's love, grace, and mercy, and the price he paid to redeem us. If we're mostly good after all, then the cross is more like a silver lining. But if we're wholly corrupt, or even mostly evil, then the cross is a big damned deal. We can't appreciate what God has done if we don't see how sinful, wretched, and in debt to God we really are.

Understanding wrath tears at the fabric of arrogance, but it seems to lay yet another foundation for self-rejection. How do we get out of self-rejection and arrogance? By truly understanding (a) how shitty we are, and (b) what God has done for us. Because of forgiveness and redemption, we stand before God not simply as "forgiven sinners" but as redeemed human beings (if our primary identity as Christians is "forgiven," then how forgiven are we really?). All our accumulated debt has been wiped out, and we stand before God redeemed, whole, bathing in his love and grace, standing in favor as a child of God. 

Christianity isn't about being a good person, or an introspective person, but being a forgiven person and, consequently, a redeemed person. 

And, yeah, that's pretty damned liberating.