this, the day of my birth

My 27th birthday has been pretty great so far: morning writing at The Anchor followed by brunch there with Jessie and Tony (I treated myself to a western omelette, wheat toast, and hash-browns covered with onions and cheese; oh, and orange juice and coffee!). We took the party back to the Hobbit Hole, where Jessie signed her lease over to me (now I have two cars, so I'm rich!), and we spent the afternoon drinking beer (well, I did) and talking about life, the future, and everything with the Wisconsinite. They headed out, and I talked with Mandy for a little while before heading to Blue Ash to hang out with the guys. I'm helping Ben fix dinner and am amping up to chow down on some sushi I brought from Fusian. Here's a pic of my new car:

#carpaymentsareforlosers
also, #carpaymentsareforthosewhocanaffordthem

The absolute BEST part of my birthday, however, is what I woke up to: a wonderful "Happy Birthday Rap" from the Wisconsinite, coupled with her singing me Happy Birthday and yet another video on Facebook cleverly put together that made my heart melt and a smile grow wide on my face. Really, she's the only one who makes me grin ear-to-ear. I thank God for her every morning, every day, every night. In a sense, that's a figure of speech: I thank God for her all the time. In another sense, it's literal: I literally thank God for her every time of day. She really is an answer to prayer, and I hope and pray I will be a continual answer to her prayers as I strive to lead her and love her as Christ leads and loves the church. "Where did that come from?" you ask. Don't be fooled: as The Black Keys put it, "Girl is always on my mind." The best birthday present is simply seeing her face and hearing her voice. I'm not even being sappy, that's straight-up truth. 

Now I'm going to eat some sushi.

And watch Jumanji for like the sixth time in just as many days.

a quiet night in dayton

bored at work...

It's late in the evening. Mom and Dad are finishing off their pizzas and I'm cuddling with Sky on the sofa as we watch "Elementary" (a show about Sherlock Holmes). I've filed my tax returns and am looking forward to getting half a grand in my account over the next couple weeks. It'll be transferred directly to my "Wisconsin" fund. 

Sometimes I fear I have too many irons in the fire. I've engaged myself in so many books and intellectual projects, and at times it can be overwhelming (better than being underwhelming, I guess). Part of me wants to "pare down" all those things I'm intellectually investing myself in: colonial American history, reading countless books, trying to piece together a work of historical fiction, trying to "relearn" the fundamentals of Koine Greek... And yet, in the midst of all this, I know that (a) despite all the hours I spend at work, I have a decent amount of free time to spend doing nothing to save money, and since I don't have TV or internet, such projects are an easy and delightful way to pass the time. Also (b) once Mandy and I are hitched, and especially when we start having children, my free time will vaporize like mineral water under a mercury sun. 

Oh, I forgot another "task" I'm throwing myself into: after watching "Son of God," I found myself itching to just plunge into studying the life of Christ. When I got back to Dayton after my trip in northern Illinois, I crawled into the crawlspace (that's why they call it that) and fished out several commentaries on the gospels and my classic "A Harmony of the Gospels." Beginning with John 1.1-18, I'm starting an intellectual journey through the life of Christ, focusing primarily on (a) the social-historical context of the events, parables, and teachings, (b) how said events, parables, and teachings would be seen from various perspectives of those involved [disciples, followers, "sinners," Pharisees, Roman occupiers], and (c) the disposition of Jesus towards those involved, paying particular attention to the way he showed love in word and deed. If we as Christians are to be "little Christs" in the world, practicing the "presence of Christ" (something like WWJD, except on steroids), then what better way than to immerse ourselves in the life of Christ? This study will be far from boring (in the "dry intellectualism" sense), for I'm doing it in the context of a meditative technique where you use your imagination to experience the contours of the events and teachings so that it comes alive to all the senses. For this to work, of course, there's going to be considerable study of the "background information" pertinent to 2nd temple Palestinian Judaism in the Roman occupation, especially in regards to daily life. 

In the midst of all this work and study, I'm making "play" a priority. Thursday nights are one of my only free nights (I'm off work at 1:30 PM). I was going to the Young Adult Group at U.C.C., but I've decided instead to use that time for hanging out with my friends and family. Since I will be going to Wisconsin around the end of the summer, my time with them is limited, and I'd much rather continue seeing these friends than trying to forge new friendships at a bible study (which I thoroughly enjoyed) before suddenly jumping ship. Thus Thursday nights have often found me in Dayton with Mom or Dad, or hanging out with Pat D., or making time to see Ams. This past Thursday Corey, Mandy H., Kevin, Ams and I went to Rock Bottom for dinner and drinks. I cherish these friendships, most of all my friendship with Ams: we laughed until we cried, and I found my soul refreshed. I'm so thankful for the relationship we have. She really is one of my best friends, and she'll be the one I miss most when I move north, that's for sure. I'm glad we've both been more proactive about spending time with one another; we're making memories I'll cherish during those early "hard months" of living in an entirely new place, an entirely new "world". 

Oh, I forgot another "task" I'm throwing myself into: after watching "Son of God," I found myself itching to just plunge into studying the life of Christ. When I got back to Dayton after my trip in northern Illinois, I crawled into the crawlspace (that's why they call it that) and fished out several commentaries on the gospels and my classic "A Harmony of the Gospels." Beginning with John 1.1-18, I'm starting an intellectual journey through the life of Christ, focusing primarily on (a) the social-historical context of the events, parables, and teachings, (b) how said events, parables, and teachings would be seen from various perspectives of those involved [disciples, followers, "sinners," Pharisees, Roman occupiers], and (c) the disposition of Jesus towards those involved, paying particular attention to the way he showed love in word and deed. If we as Christians are to be "little Christs" in the world, practicing the "presence of Christ" (something like WWJD, except on steroids), then what better way than to immerse ourselves in the life of Christ? This study will be far from boring (in the "dry intellectualism" sense), for I'm doing it in the context of a meditative technique where you use your imagination to experience the contours of the events and teachings so that it comes alive to all the senses. For this to work, of course, there's going to be considerable study of the "background information" pertinent to 2nd temple Palestinian Judaism in the Roman occupation, especially in regards to daily life. 

This post has been unnecessarily long.

And so I'll close with a photobomb!

(It rhymes, so...)

"The Way" (II)

How beautiful is holy purity! But it is not holy, nor pleasing to God, if we separate it from charity. Charity is the seed that will grow and yield savory fruit when it is moistened with the waters of purity. Without charity, purity is fruitless and its sterile waters turn the soul into a swamp, a stagnant marsh, from which rises the stench of pride.

There is need for a crusade of manliness and purity to counteract and nullify the savage work of those who think man is a beast. And that crusade is your work.

Saints are not abnormal cases to be studied by a modernistic doctor. They were—they are—normal, with flesh like yours. And they conquered.

You seem to hear a voice within you saying, ‘That religious prejudice…!’ And then the eloquent defense of all the weaknesses of our poor fallen flesh: ‘Its rights!’ When this happens to you, tell the enemy that there is a natural law, and a law of God, and God!... and also hell.

“It made me laugh to hear you speak of the ‘account’ our Lord will demand of you. No, for you he will not be a judge—in the harsh sense of the word. He will simply be Jesus.” These words, written by a holy bishop, have consoled more than one troubled heart and could very well console yours.

The appropriate word you left unsaid; the joke you didn’t tell; the cheerful smile for those who bother you; that silence when you’re unjustly accused; your kind conversation with people you find boring and tactless; the daily effort to overlook one irritating detail or another in those who live with you… this, with perseverance, is indeed solid interior mortification.

Don’t say, “That person bothers me.” Think: “That person sanctifies me.”

The world admires only the spectacular sacrifice, because it does not realize the value of the sacrifice that is hidden and silent.

We must give ourselves in everything, we must deny ourselves in everything. Our sacrifice must be a Holocaust.

Paradox: To live, one must die.

Everything that doesn’t lead you to God is an obstacle. Tear it out and cast it far from you.

You don’t conquer yourself, you aren’t mortified, because you are proud. You lead a life of penance? Remember: pride can exist with penance. Furthermore: Your sorrow, after your falls, after your failures in generosity, is it really sorrow or is it the frustration of seeing yourself so small and weak? How far you are from Jesus if you are not humble… even if new roses blossom every day from your disciplines!

Many who would let themselves be nailed to a cross before the astonished gaze of thousands of spectators won’t bear the pinpricks of each day with a Christian spirit! But think, which is the more heroic?

"Celebration of Discipline"

Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline has been a fantastic read. He looks at some of the most common spiritual disciplines in the practice of Judeo-Christianity and examines how they are to be practiced and how they can be practiced in the everyday life of ordinary, run-of-the-mill, mundane people (in short, these disciplines are not “for monks only”). Although I’m tempted to post all the notes I took on this book, I’m going to content myself with notes from the first chapter, which lays the groundwork and theology of spiritual disciplines (if this interests you, I recommend Dallas Willard’s The Spirit of the Disciplines which fleshes out in an entire book what Foster skims here):

* * *

“The desperate need today is not a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people. The classical Disciplines of the spiritual life call us to move beyond surface living into the depths. They invite us to explore the inner caverns of the spiritual realm. They urge us to be the answer to a hollow world.” (1)

“We must not be led to believe that the Disciplines are only for spiritual giants and hence beyond our reach, or only for contemplatives who devote all their time to prayer and meditation. Far from it. God intends the Disciplines of the spiritual life to be for ordinary human beings: people who have jobs, who care for children, who wash dishes and mow lawns. In fact, the Disciplines are best exercised in the midst of our relationships with our husband or wife, our brothers and sisters, our friends and neighbors.” (1)

“Neither should we think of the Spiritual Disciplines as some dull drudgery aimed at exterminating laughter from the face of the earth. Joy is the keynote in all of the disciplines. The purpose of the Disciplines is liberation from the stifling slavery to self-interest and fear. When the inner spirit is liberated from all that weighs it down, it can hardly be described as dull drudgery. Singing, dancing, even shouting characterize the Disciplines of the spiritual life.” (2)

Foster points out two difficulties that present themselves to those who desire to practice the disciplines. “The first is philosophic. The materialistic base of our age has become so pervasive that it has given people grave doubts about their ability to reach beyond the physical world. Many first-rate scientists have passed beyond such doubts, knowing that we cannot be confined to a space-time box. But the average person is influenced by popular science, which is a generation behind the times and is prejudiced against the nonmaterial world… Meditation, for example, if allowed at all, is not thought of as an encounter between a person and God, but as psychological manipulation. Usually people will tolerate a brief dabbling in the ‘inward journey,’ but then it is time to get on with real business in the real world. We need the courage to move beyond the prejudice of our age and affirm with our best scientists that more than the material world exists.” (2-3)

“The second difficulty is a practical one. We simply do not know how to go about exploring the inward life… In the first century and earlier, it was not necessary to give instruction on how to ‘do’ the Disciplines of the spiritual life. The Bible called people to such Disciplines as fasting, prayer, worship, and celebration but gave almost no instruction about how to do them. The reason for this is easy to see. Those Disciplines were so frequently practiced and such a part of the general culture that the ‘how to’ was common knowledge.” (3)

“Our ordinary method of dealing with ingrained sin is to launch a frontal attack. We rely on our willpower and determination. Whatever may be the issue for us—anger, fear, bitterness, gluttony, pride, lust, substance abuse—we determine never to do it again; we pray against it, fight against it, set our will against it. But the struggle is all in vain, and we find ourselves once again morally bankrupt or, worse yet, so proud of our external righteousness that ‘whitened sepulchers’ is a mild description of our condition.” (4-5)

“When we despair of gaining inner transformation through human powers of will and determination, we are open to a wonderful new realization: inner righteousness is a gift from God to be graciously received.” (6)

“If all human strivings end in moral bankruptcy (and having tried it, we know it is so), and if righteousness is a gracious gift from God (as the Bible clearly states), then is it not logical to conclude that we must wait for God to come and transform us? Strangely enough, the answer is no… God has given us the Disciplines of the spiritual life as a means of receiving his grace. The Disciplines allow us to place ourselves before God so that he can transform us.” (7)

“The apostle Paul says, ‘he who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption; but he who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life’ (Gal. 6:8). Paul’s analogy is instructive. A farmer is helpless to grow grain; all he can do is provide the right conditions for growing grain. He cultivates the ground, he plants the seed, he waters the plants, and then the natural forces of the earth take over and up comes the grain. This is the way it is with the Spiritual Disciplines—they are a way of sowing to the Spirit. The Disciplines are God’s way of getting us into the ground; they put us where he can work within us and transform us. By themselves the Spiritual Disciplines can do nothing; they can only get us to the place where something can be done.” (7)

“Picture a long, narrow ridge with a sheer drop-off on either side. The chasm to the right is the way of moral bankruptcy through human strivings for righteousness. Historically this has been called the heresy of moralism. The chasm to the left is moral bankruptcy through the absence of human striving. This has been called the heresy of antinomianism. On the ridge there is a path, the Disciplines of the spiritual life. This path leads to the inner transformation and healing for which we seek. We must never veer off to the right or the left, but stay on the path. The path is fraught with severe difficulties, but also with incredible joys. As we travel on this path, the blessing of God will come upon us and reconstruct us into the image of Jesus Christ. We must always remember that the path does not produce change; it only places us where the change can occur.” (8)

“Divine Love [slips] into our inner spirit and [takes] over our habit patterns. In the unguarded moments there is a spontaneous flow from the inner sanctuary of our lives of ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control’ (Gal. 5:22, 23). There is no longer the tiring need to hide our inner selves from others. We do not have to work hard at being good and kind; we are good and kind. To refrain from being good and kind would be the hard work because goodness and kindness are part of our nature. Just as the natural motions of our lives once produced mire and dirt, now they produce ‘righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit’ (Rom. 14:17).” (9)

on "Son of God"

The new movie "Son of God" (or "Smiley Jesus") has gotten all sorts of scathing reviews. Some critics point out the bad acting and the poor CGI. Others emphasize how it isn't a "full presentation of the gospel" (why would we bring Pauline theology into this?), and still others like to point out all the factual errors in the movie (such as Peter being the first disciple called, or Jesus' ascension being more of a "poof" than anything else). Yet at the same time, others love it, becoming a part of the story, a part of the narrative, as they're immersed in the characters and plot. Really, we'd do well to remember that this is a movie. The main beef I have with Jesus movies is that you always know what's coming next, you know who's going to betray whom, you know the Big Twist at the end. The real challenge comes with presenting the material people know in a way that makes them see things anew, and on at least one level, this movie did that for me.

Yes, the acting was pretty shoddy.

Yes, the CGI left much to be desired.

Yes, Jesus smiled way too much.

On the third point, I found it laughable how Jesus so cheerily told a little girl that the Jerusalem temple would be destroyed. It's quite evident in the gospels that this prophecy of judgment came not with laughter and singing but with Jesus' own emotional pain at what would unfold, for he loved Jerusalem and her people, and knowing her future tore at the fabric of his heart. But seeing as one of the main motifs of this movie is indeed a smiling, cheery Jesus, it would be too much of a chink in the armor to have him shown up as emotionally needy.

All this aside, I really liked how the story made Nicodemus a main character. The whole Nicodemus story comes rather early on in the Gospel of John, but the writers drew out his character so that he opposed Jesus up until the night before Jesus' passion. I would love to see more movies (or books) about Jesus not use Jesus as a main character but, rather, focus on the traditional side characters. Imagine Jesus' early ministry told from Peter's perspective: conflict with his wife over his abandonment of his fishing enterprise to follow this "wandering drama," a marital conflict brought to a head when his wife's mother is healed by Jesus in Capernaum. Even better, let's make the Pharisees the main characters, sympathizing with their perspective and seeking to make sense of the deep loathing they had of "this carpenter's son from Nazareth" in the context of 2nd temple Palestinian Judaism religion and politics. The problem, of course, is that when you "stray from the script" so-to-speak, or empathize with the Bad Guys who were very bad in killing God's Son, you come under the harsh criticisms of those who can't bear to see anyone other than Jesus made a main character in the retellings. Never mind that seeing Jesus' woes on Jerusalem and ransacking the temple from the perspective of a Pharisee would be quite interesting and provocative, and by looking at the miracles and events (and death and resurrection) of Jesus from a biased perspective (rather than from the eagle's-eye sorta view so common) would enable us to look at these things from different angles and see things we hadn't seen before.

To close this off, I'll be honest: I liked The Passion of the Christ more.
Jesus isn't always smiling, and he's actually sad from time-to-time.
He's even afraid in the Garden of Gethsemane. He's more... human.
And I'm a huge fan of subtitles.

postscript: Crete

Wait, no, a different Crete...

Mandy and I met up in a small town called Crete outside Chicago’s city limits. We got lunch at a local diner followed by coffee at Starbucks, and we met up with her mom for the new movie “Son of God” at AMC, and then the three of us joined her brother and his wife for dinner at Texas Roadhouse. Saturday night culminated with meeting some more of her friends at a local bar. Sunday we went to Faith Church and enjoyed a sermon on ministering to individuals with developmental disabilities (right up my alley! and in more than one way…), and she showed me around her hometown and we went to the closing ceremonies of “Snowball,” a sort of team-building outreach program of which Mandy used to be a part. Lunch was at a breakfast joint called the Big Apple (and, dare I say it, it’s far better than The Anchor), and after perusing the bookstore for a bit, we went on a wild romp through Thorn Creek Nature Preserve. We warmed up at the nature center—a renovated 19^th century church—and explored glaciations, fossils, and birds of prey. We had dinner at one of her favorite Mexican restaurants with one of her favorite people (other than me, of course), and I like the fact that I’ve met almost all of her closest, dearest friends. Back at the place we were staying, we watched the Oscars before bed. This morning we said our sad goodbyes, and already I’m counting down the days (18!) until I get to see her again. Here are a few of my favorite pictures from the weekend:

If I may be honest (and it’s my blog, so I have that right), my girlfriend’s beauty intensifies with each passing day as she lovingly mocks my pattern of unobservance, my 80s lingo (though she blushes when she catches herself using it), and my “many crudeness”: You haven’t washed your jeans for a month?! But it’s what they do on the frontier! When I hold her, I’m blown away by the depths of care, affection, and love that one human being can have for another. The most amazing thing, though, is this: as incredible as my love for her may be, it’s corrupted by my selfishness and sin, and it’s a mere shadow—one could even go as far as to call it a parody—of God’s brilliant, piercing love for me. How can I not be overwhelmed with gratitude? How can I not experience this joy in the marrow of my bones? Our love is to be a signpost to Christ’s love for his church, and meditating on that, I’m filled with wonder, awe, and praise. 

[sunday meditations]

1 PETER 1.10-12

Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories. It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you, in the things that have now been announced to you through those who preached the good news to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, things into which angels long to look.

Saint Peter has given us a telescopic look at the future of cosmic history. Thus far in his letter, he has wetted our appetites for eschatology, has given us glimpses and foretastes, yet doing so in a panoramic manner, so that he doesn’t delve into too much detail. We can assume that the Christians reading/hearing the letter didn’t need a point-by-point explanation of Christian eschatology: they would’ve already been quite familiar with it, and Peter’s purpose here isn’t so much that of a teacher, giving them information they didn’t yet have, but that of an encourager, putting before them what they already know, honing their focus and encouraging them through their future hope. The Christian hope—our future resurrection, glorification, and being part of the resurrection of the entire cosmos (our inheritance), which will be experienced at Jesus’ apocalypse—is to be a catalyst of endurance in the midst of difficulties. Peering into the future, and letting that future shape the way we think and live, is an all-too-often-forgotten practice; yet at the same time, the historian’s mantra that we cannot understand the present without understanding the past shouldn’t be dismissed. Indeed, having pointed Christians to the future, now St. Peter points Christians to the past, to the “prophets of old.”

Peter points to the Old Testament prophets who prophesied about God’s coming kingdom, a kingdom which would come on the wings of the Messiah. The Spirit of Christ (that is, the Holy Spirit) endowed them with the words to speak and the boldness to speak them; while the gift of the Holy Spirit is a New Covenant peculiarity, the Old Testament prophets experienced a sort of foretaste, as the Spirit empowered them without indwelling them. These prophets gave cryptic, confusing, bewildering prophecies; and though they were the bearers of the messages, they didn’t wholly understand them. One can imagine Jeremiah sitting beside a fire, scratching his beard (prophets always seem to have beards) and wondering just what in the world God had up his sleeve. Making it more confusing was the chaotic cesspool of both Suffering and Glory; somehow, in some way, suffering on behalf of Israel (or Israel’s Chosen One, her representative) would lead to subsequent Glory (a theme which Peter will come back to again and again). One can only imagine Isaiah’s anguish over The Suffering Servant, an anguish he took out on his beard, no doubt.

That which the prophets didn’t understand has now, in the present age, become clear. The death and resurrection of Jesus, and all it entails, not least the defeat of evil and the inauguration of God’s kingdom, has become a message that is preached. This message is preached by the Spirit. Spirit-filled preaching (which, in today’s evangelical climate, can often refer to esoteric, over-the-top, flamboyant preaching with a lot of huffing and puffing) isn’t about the extravagance or showiness, but the fact that when the gospel is preached, the Spirit is there: convicting, encouraging, swooning, calling. The Spirit is intimately involved in the gospel proclamation, and the preaching of the gospel is the manner by which God, through his Spirit, calls people to himself. The Spirit is God’s future breaking into the present; the Spirit is sent from Heaven, a foretaste and promise of what is to come in the future: the full restoration and renewal of the entire cosmos.

“Why does St. Peter bring all this talk of the prophets and prophecies to his hearers’ attention?” No doubt all of them were quite aware that the Jewish prophets had spoken of Jesus. This isn’t news to them, and that is, perhaps, why Peter doesn’t say anything more regarding this. He includes this to encourage the Christians as they face the possibility of intensifying persecution and even martyrdom. This is Peter’s way of saying, “You’re part of something monumentous, something extravagant, something huge! Don’t forget this! Stay the course!” Suffering, as we’ve seen, affects our character. The way we perceive things doesn’t exist in a vacuum outside our experiences but is informed and even orchestrated by these experiences; with the onset of suffering, it wouldn’t be difficult for the Christians in Asia Minor to rethink the legitimacy of their beliefs, even if they don’t realize such rethinking is happening. That this is certainly a risk can be seen in the Book of Hebrews: with persecution striking, the Jewish Christians start questioning their faith, and many begin returning to Judaism. Peter’s reminding the Christians in Asia Minor, “This is what the prophets spoke of; don’t become nearsighted, keep your perspective long-reaching rather than temporal!”

Even more-so, this is Peter bringing to the forefront of their minds a reality of the Christian experience: conforming to Christ involves not just behaving as he did, speaking as he did, etc.; it also involves conforming to his passion. Being like Christ involves suffering, and when Christians suffer, they are made more and more like Christ. This isn’t all doom-and-gloom, as we’ve seen; after all, the present suffering pales in comparison to the rewards and privileges to be bestowed upon God’s children who endure their trials. Just as Christ’s suffering was followed by glory, so Christians have the hope and the promise of experiencing glory following suffering. As Nero’s rampage reaches their ears, and as the threat of government-instituted persecution lumbers nearer, the mantra of “Suffering, Then Glory” would serve to strengthen the hearts and resolves of even the most frightened Christians.