umm, i'm sick

My "weekend" (the two days off work) was pretty good. Thursday I went down to Cincinnati and grabbed lunch at The Anchor with Ams, then Mandy threw me and Jessie a graduation party at Refuge Coffee Bar. On Friday Dad and I grabbed lunch at an Amish buffet in Waynesville, then hiked at Caesar Creek. I took a wonderful nap and went down to Cincinnati. Blake, Amos and I smoked our pipes out on the Refuge patio, and Mandy and Amanda joined us for a game of Catch-Phrase, and Sarah joined us, too, and we drank coffee and then went out for drinks.

And this morning I woke up sick. Nothing horrible: slight nausea and a sore throat. It won't be fun working tonight, that's for sure, but it could be worse. I'm hoping this sickness--which I first felt coming on Thursday--won't last too long.

The plans for this week aren't plethora. I work all morning shifts, which I'm excited about. One day during the week I may go down to Cincinnati for dinner with Ams and Sarah. Mandy is coming up Thursday and we're going to hike fourteen miles. Friday I am most likely going down for The Pipe Club--me, Blake, and Amos will be bringing out our pipes and smoking with much laughter and good coffee. Next weekend I plan on going to church either at Southbrook or Apex again. Oh: and I'm going to try and finish my revision of "36 Hours: A Tale of the Undead." I just haven't had any energy for it lately. Mind consumed by other--more important--things.

the stretch has ended

My recent ponderings of repentance have spawned a new project: "A Treatise on Repentance." I'm guessing it will be around 80 pages long. Basically I'm looking at repentance from every angle and contemplating and studying the real issues surrounding it. Currently I'm studying the evolution of Jewish thought regarding repentance from the end of the "Old Testament Era" up to the days of Jesus and Paul and the writings of the New Testament (i.e. I'm looking at how Jews regarded repentance during the Intertestamental Period). I've already studied repentance in the Old Testament (a very bare-bones exploration) and am excited about my study of repentance in the New Testament as well as in the early church fathers.

Today is my first day off after an eight-day stretch of work. I'm going down to Cincinnati to grab dinner with my sister, celebrate my graduation with good friends at Refuge Coffee Bar, and then hopefully Jobst and I are going to grab some late-night coffee and talk about some pretty important things. I'm really looking forward to it. Tomorrow Dad and I are probably going for a hike and lunch at Yellow Springs State Park, and Saturday I begin my next long stretch of work (though it isn't too bad). I was going to check out Southbrook Christian Church this weekend, but I work 3-11:00 Saturday and 8:30-3:00 Sunday, so that won't be happening. Maybe next weekend? My plans for next week are pretty thin: work. I work all morning shifts, and after work I'll go to the gym every day, eat dinner, and then read/study/hang out with friends. It's a pretty simple life, and I am thankful to be experiencing peace and joy in my life once more.

The Choice of Repentance

In my last post regarding repentance (something I've been thinking about lately), I defined what I perceive repentance to be. Before I throw to the wind my thoughts regarding the nature of the choice of repentance, I want to make a retraction and adjustment to what I wrote at the end of April. I wrote about how repentance is founded upon a change in behavior and is less about the disposition of the mind. I want to retract this and then redefine it. I said that in the Old Testament, the pivotal point of repentance was behavioral change. It was behavioral change which the prophets demanded in repentance, but the demands themselves were not so much calls for simply changes in behavior but, rather, changes in one's stance towards God. The outward acts of repentance can be self-induced (i.e. behavioral change), but God's ultimate concern is the heart of man. This is why we find God railing against His people through the prophet Amos: they were "going through the motions" of loving God but, in their hearts, they didn't really love Him. This theme is picked up in Joel where God declares in chapter 2, "Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments." One can go through the motions of repentance--changing behavior and practices--and still love the self and love sin. So what we find in the N.T.--that repentance is a "change of mind"--is not opposed to what we find in the O.T.: it's precisely the same thing, except observed from a different angle. The focus of repentance is upon a person's heart, the person's inner disposition towards God.

As I wrote in late April, repentance is forsaking love of self and sin (our own kingdoms) and loving God and His kingdom. But in saying this, I must redefine what "love" means. In popular culture, and thus within the vast majority of modern Western Christianity, to "love God" means to feel warm and affectionate feelings towards Him. This understanding of "loving God" is not only unscriptural but dangerous as well (for reasons I'll spell out in another post). When we read the N.T., "love of God" is manifested in obedience. Thus "loving God" produces obedience/repentance, and "not loving God" produces disobedience. It is not a matter of one's feelings (for how, then, could we fulfill Christ's commandment and love our enemies?) but, rather, a matter of one's focus. To "love God" means to be devoted and dedicated to Him (and, subsequently, His cause: His kingdom). If you disagree, just check back in a week or two; I'll address this issue. So with that in mind--"loving God" being equivocal to "devoted to God [and His kingdom]"--we can perceive repentance as being the abandonment of devotion and dedication to ourselves and our kingdoms and a refocusing of our dedication and devotion onto God and His kingdom. Within this framework, obedience is a natural result and a subsequent manifestation. This is why repentance must always produce behavioral change: going from devotion to self and our kingdoms to devotion to God and His kingdom demands a radical reorientation of everything that we are (our goals, our dreams, our motivations, our practices, everything); whether or not someone changes is evidence enough of whether or not that person is truly repentant.

Repentance is a choice between self-dedication and dedication to God. And I believe this choice is not so much a matter of the heart but a matter of the will. In saying this, I open myself up to a flurry of attacks (which won't come, of course, because no one reads this!), so let me clarify what I mean. The Bible clearly teaches that the heart of men is wicked and deceitful. No one can escape this. As the psalmist declares (and as St. Paul reiterates) "no one is good; no, not even one." All of our hearts are corrupt and wicked, indwelt by Sin. We seek after our own agendas, we seek to satisfy ourselves, we seek to prove the logic of our pride, and we seek to build up our own kingdoms however we please. In our hearts, our desire and devotion is focused on ourselves. We may do what we perceive to be "good things," but these are called into question: there is almost always a root of selfishness (however small and well-concealed) within even our seemingly good actions. We are, by nature, dedicated to ourselves and our own kingdoms. In this sense we are idolaters. An idolater is anyone who worships the creation rather than the Creator, and the Jewish conviction (shared by St. Paul) is that everyone is an idolater. We may not worship "gods of stone and bronze," and we may not be New Age nature-worshipers or postmodern pagans; but we do worship ourselves, we stand tall as if we are gods. We are creatures--created by God, His creation--and we worship ourselves as gods. In our devotion to ourselves and our kingdoms, we "play God" and thus categorize ourselves as idolaters.

The choice to repent is, as I've said and stress again, a choice between idolatry and worship of the true God, the Israelite God YHWH. As Joshua told the Israelites after their conquest of the Promised Land, "Now fear YHWH and serve him with all faithfulness. Abandon the gods your forefathers worshiped beyond the River and in Egypt, and devote yourself to YHWH. But if being devoted to YHWH seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day to whom you will be devoted, whether the gods your forefathers were devoted to beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve YHWH." The call to repentance is no different than Joshua's command: we must choose to devote ourselves to YHWH. But no one is forced to devote themselves to YHWH. When one stands at the door of repentance, the person must choose: "Shall I devote myself to the Living God? Or shall I devote myself to me and my own kingdom?" And just as it was undesirable for some to serve YHWH (as evidenced by their later blatant rebellion and disobedience), so today, when some stand before the door of repentance, knowing full well their need for repentance, some will refuse to repent.

In our hearts, we love ourselves, our sin, our own kingdom. And let us be honest: it is desirable to serve ourselves. The gods of the ancient Eastern world were so desirable because, in worshiping them, people were able to worship themselves, gratifying their own sexual cravings, living life in the state of blind euphoria, serving themselves inasmuch as they served the false gods. The call to repentance demands that we forsake living for ourselves: it demands that we forsake serving ourselves and being devoted to ourselves and instead look outwards at God rather than inwards at ourselves. It requires that we cease the pleasure-seeking of the world. It requires that we abandon the pride of possessions, the pride of life, and the lust of the eyes. It requires that we give up momentary and temporary sinful gratifications for the cause of God and His kingdom. And repentance, let's be honest, isn't very fun; and for a culture that is all about entertainment, quick fixes of euphoria, and the "thrills and excitements" of the "adrenaline-rushed" life, living a somber and seriously-minded life that faces the harshness of reality for what it is rather than escaping it through a plethora of escapist tactics is not too desirable. As a wise old man once told me after shutting the door so one would hear him, "Repentance is DAMN HARD. It makes me want to curse and scream and cuss and holler!" Repentance is hard because it goes against what we in our natures crave: ourselves and our kingdoms. It is "damn hard" to be sure.

And the hardness and difficulty of repentance illuminates the point I made earlier: that it is not so much a matter of the heart (what I define as the disposition of our thoughts/feelings/motivations, etc.) but a matter of our own volition (our will, our ability to choose). The person who repents does not repent because suddenly he is filled with an adoration and affection for God. The person who repents does not repent because he has, instantaneously, been freed from love of self and love of sin and filled with love of God and love of His kingdom. The person who repents is a person who, despite love of self and love of sin, decides to forsake that love and crucify it in Christ; the person who repents is the person who decides--regardless of the source of the decision, what has brought him to that decision, etc.--to devote himself to God and His kingdom rather than himself and his own kingdom. The choice of repentance is a choice made out of the will--encouraged, no doubt, by God's convictions on the heart--to repent. God does not force anyone to repent. It is His desire that everyone come to repentance, but in His respect of our freedom of choice (something my Calvinists friends despise!) He allows a person to choose. He will encourage and prod and convict a person to repentance, but in the end, the person is given the freedom to give God the finger, to curse God, to turn his back on God, and to continue serving himself and his sin and his own kingdom, being warped and distorted more-and-more until he reaches the point of being beyond hope and beyond pity.

a storm sweeps in

the dayton days (XIII)

from Refuge Coffee Bar

Monday. My morning was productive: coffee, work-out, breakfast, some time at the gym, got my phone fixed at Verizon, and grabbed a haircut at Great Clips on Route 48. Mandy begged me to come down to Cincinnati, so I did: Sa-Rah and Suraj joined us for a sushi buffet off Interstate 71. Jobst and I met up afterwards and went to Sitwell's in Clifton, and his dentist friend Mike joined us. I had a cup of coffee with a shot of bourbon. The cute barista flirted with me, even winked at me quite bluntly. I then went to Rob & Mandy's, and we got pizza and Amos joined us. I took Amos home and went by the Rosemont Apartment, and Sarah showed me around and we went to Kroger. I got some bananas and granola bars for the week. I returned home in driving rains. Here's a poem I wrote regarding Sarah. It's an acrostic!

     Swept across the dunes of time,

     Another taste of Heaven's promise,

     Racing past too fast to catch,

     And though we reach out with all our might,

     Heaven spreads its wings and takes flight.

     Gaping holes in the heart unsewn,

     Answers to questions never asked,

     Beckon us forward with each aching step,

     Bringing s closer to what is unknown,

     Always hoping it is what we desire,

     Realizing in time that it never is.

     Dawn may break, or for all time be dusk.

Tuesday. I woke up after dreaming I was dating a cute blond girl. I went to the gym for an hour and had an egg and toast for breakfast. I went to Starbucks and contemplated theology. Carly was there, and we chatted about our favorite cafes in Clifton: Roh's Street, Highlands, Sitwell's. Grandma M. and I got China Garden for lunch. I went to the wine bar on 741 and journaled for a bit. Mom's high school girl's group went out for ice cream and then to North Park. When they got back I talked with Mariah and Sabrina for a bit. I called Sarah before bed. I'm still trying to decide what to do. The truth is, no matter how badly she's hurt me and even used me, I still care for her so much. The solution seems so clear to me, and then I think about the consequences of that "clear solution," namely losing Sarah (regardless of whether that's worth keeping), and it isn't so clear anymore.

Wednesday. I went to Caesar's Creek for a bit and Sarah called from work and we talked about spiritual things and then I went to the Centerville Starbucks. I worked out and ate lunch before working 12:30-9:00. I got back and gave Tanner a bath. 

Thursday. I worked 6-2:30 with J.J., Jessica, and Katie, a girl from Centerville Starbucks who's heading to California in May with Americorps. My evening was spent dicking around, not doing much of anything. I like these quiet, chill days.

Friday. I worked 5:30-1:00. During work a girl came in and passed out flyers for a new church plant, Origins, in Franklin. She told me they meet on Saturday evenings, and I asked her if they were 7th Day Adventists and she said, "No." I asked her, "Are you sure you're not a cult?" She just awkwardly laughed. I did a good workout at the gym and then napped with Tanner. Mom, Grandma, Dad and I ate at Gyro Palace, and then I went to Spring Valley for a decaf con panna. My new addiction: espresso topped with whipped cream. Mandy is throwing me and Jessie a graduation party next week. It should be good. The Lehman House water bill came in the mail, so I went down to Cincinnati to give it to Ams. I went by Refuge to see Mandy and Rob before heading back home.

Saturday. Huge storms rolled through all morning. Such a dreary day. Mom & Grandma left for Cancun, Mexico. Jared's getting married there. They'll be gone for a week, during which I'm watching Tanner. I worked 1-9:30. I called Mandy K. before bed, and it was so good talking with her, like a blast from the past. "I'm going to call you later this week," she said, "and we can talk some more!"

Sunday. Dewenter came over, and we headed to Apex for church. He's wanting to get his life back together. Hell, who doesn't? Other than you-know-who, of course. I worked 3-11:00. Lots of my co-workers go to Apex. The others seem to go to Southbrook or this Eastern Orthodox church in Dayton. Dewenter and I want to check out Southbrook next.

monthly weigh-in #5

Weigh-in this month was 149. Last month's weigh-in was recorded as being at 154, but that's not true. It came to my attention that I was weighing myself wrong. Really, common sense should have told me I was doing it wrong, but I've always been more conceptual than pragmatic, and it turns out that I was weighing myself anywhere from four to two pounds lighter than I really was. Re:weighing myself last month (after the last post), I was at 157. All of the weigh-ins I've recorded on here prior to last month were skewed as well. Oh well. If I were to weigh myself this month as I did last month, I'd be at 145 pounds (which is my first goal). But I'd rather be realistic and not self-deceptive, so weigh-in this month is at 149, a whopping eight pounds lost over the past month.

I've been eating pretty well. The same old story: lean meats, vegetables, fruits, whole grains, and eggs. Lots and lots of eggs. I talked to my doctor and he recommended up to ten eggs a week but no more than twelve. There's a lot of hype around eggs being bad, he said, but it's pretty unsubstantiated. It's kind of the same thing with coffee: "Is it good? Is it bad?" No one really knows, and "scientific opinion" changes like the tides. All I know is that I've been eating close to forty eggs a month, and I haven't had any problems (after this post I will make two eggs for brunch, and I'm pretty damn excited about it). I've also been working out. I haven't done as much cardio lately, thanks to my legs being sore all the time. I have this thing where my legs really hurt, it feels like there are bubbles running through my veins. Doctor says it's nothing to worry about, but it hurts like hell, and walking even becomes difficult at times. I remember in the Lehman House sitting naked by the stove massaging my leg and whimpering. Ha. But I HAVE been working out my arms and chest, and people are noticing big improvements. My mom told me I'm getting too skinny (though I disagree), and she recommended I bulk up, and I'm focusing on that now.

As I continue to lose weight, the visible improvements are more dramatic. For instance, in the beginning, there was a month when I lost fifteen pounds. But you couldn't really tell. Now I lose two pounds, and people say, "Have you lost weight?" I think it's just proportionate to body fat or something, I don't know. But I can look in the mirror and not be repulsed, and that's always a good thing. By June 1st I hope to be AT LEAST at 145 (which makes me no longer overweight), but my REAL goal is to be at 142. My biggest leap is 135, which is fourteen pounds away (it's the lightest I've ever weighed, even though I looked semi-anorexic; once I hit that, the weight-loss straining is done).

hope of a better world

Last night I went down to Cincinnati. One of my close friends went through a pretty traumatic and nerve-wracking experience, so I met up with her and we went to Refuge and saw some friends, and then we sat out on the cafe patio and smoked cigarettes and drank some coffee (she had a latte and I had my con panna). We talked about what happened and how it affected her, and she mentioned being drawn to friends who don't really care for her, and she said that maybe the reason is because friends who don't care aren't friends who will push her towards becoming a better person. A friend who cares is a friend who challenges and rebukes and often makes you mad. A friend who doesn't care is unwilling to "stir the waters" of the friendship; in such a friendship, any sort of unnecessary conflict is more of a bother than anything. This isn't to be confused with those friendships in which "drama" soars. You know people who thrive off drama and start drama, and this sort of drama is always self-centered and never others-centered; that type of drama isn't built upon the foundation of genuine, caring, compassionate friendship. And we talked about how it is good to have friends who challenge us, friends who prod us towards becoming better people through gentle conversations or metaphorical bitch-slaps across the face. Shallow friendships where everything is just about "having fun" are friendships that do not force a person to face the realities of their own nature, their own heart.

We talked about the lifestyle of drunken parties where not-so-innocent things occur. When I was in High School, I didn't realize how widespread these were. But now that I've met tons of people and befriended people of all walks of life, and since for quite some time I was involved in such activities, I see how widespread it really is. And perhaps my observations of it are founded solely on my own experiences (I am willing to admit that; please not the humility), but I perceive such lifestyles to be lifestyles of escape, even if the people in them wouldn't admit to this. There is a certain freedom and liberty and escapism in such lifestyles of seeking pleasure over anything else, of seeking the euphoric escape from life through sex, drugs, alcohol (and, in some cases, rock-&-roll). The reality of life is that "life is a bitch" and "fate is a cold-hearted whore" (Spill Canvas reference). I've always likened life to the phrase "What You Want, You Can't Have; What You Have, You Can't Keep; And That Which You Love Will Be Taken From You." And some of my friends have scolded me for this perspective on life. "Life is beautiful!" they exclaim. And I wonder how blind they really are, or if they've just convinced themselves of this to make it easier to deal with. I have yet to be proven wrong. And getting involved in those escapist-tactics is one of the most--if not the primary--method of dealing with the harsh realities of reality. The hell of life is easiest to deal with when we are so lost within ourselves and the temporary euphoria of the moment that we do not pay reality any attention.

But this is not a responsible way to live. It is a way of ignorance, naivety, blindness. It is just like the ostrich who sticks her head in the sand, pretending--even believing--that such an act will make everything better. There was a time in my life when I simply sought to escape. And then there was a time in my life where I just tried to cope. And then there was a time in my life when I stood tall and faced reality for what it is. I contemplated it and pondered it. I acknowledged that it really is awful, it really is painful, it really is full of suffering--and any adequate theology will acknowledge this and not only acknowledge this but also acknowledge that IT WON'T CHANGE. No matter how intimate with God you are, no matter how devoted to Him and His Kingdom you are, it doesn't change that life sucks and will continue to suck until the day you die. As Brand New sings, "Die young and save yourself," because "everyone who lives will someday die and die alone."

And I mention this because as my friend and I sat on that patio, I talked to her about the harsh realities of life. There is a Christian idea out there that when you become a Christian, life gets better. And it does. But not in the way that many of us seem to think. Even if you deny the obviously heretical teachings of people like Joel Osteen, people who advocate the unapologetic doctrine of "Health & Wealth", you may yet buy into a more subtle, mellow, and humble understanding of this. This is what happens when we say, "God has great things in store for the one who becomes His child." This is true. But we should always lay bare our assumptions when dealing with things like this, and the assumption here is often that life will get better. But the testimony of the New Testament is that life continues to suck. It doesn't get better. At the same time, it may not get worse. It just continues to suck. "Life sucks equally for the just and the unjust alike," I told my friend. "But the just have a joy amidst the bitterness of life that the unjust do not." And this is not some mystical sort of joy that God imparts upon the believer. It is a joy that is rooted in hope. The unjust have no hope. The just have hope. And it's the hope that things will get better. And not just better, but that all the harsh realities of this world will--eventually, and in a sudden and decisive and cataclysmic and traumatic moment--be destroyed, and everything will be the way God wanted it to be. Creation, our communities, our individual selves--we will be as God wanted it to be and still intends it to be.

And as I talked to her about the events that recently transpired, causing her great emotional anguish, I told her that things will get better. Life will get better. But not immediately. And not gradually. But some day, and suddenly, things will be entirely different. The world will be rescued and renewed. The miseries of our world are due to sin and its affects upon creation, our communities, and our selves. Beginning with the cross of Christ and culminating in "consummation," God will "consume" and destroy not just sin but everything associated with it--including death itself. And the awfulness of this world will be eradicated and everything will be made new and right. I told her, "What happened sucks, and it will continue to suck. And more things will happen, and they'll suck. Some will suck even more. Sure, things may get better from time-to-time. But they'll start to suck again." And then I added, "But one day we will be smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee in a world that is entirely different. And all the pains and the sufferings will be like bad dreams, as if they never happened. And they won't matter. So take heart. Embrace hope. And not despite suffering but within it, you can experience joy."