of libraries and justin bieber

Ben wanted to go to the library, so after fifteen minutes of convincing Jason to tag along, we set out! Jay was adamant that he didn't want a coat, so of course halfway to the library he said he was cold and needed to go back and get his jacket. I lent him my Guinness sweatshirt and we continued our journey. By the time we got to the library, chocked full of people, my nipples were hard as razor blades and all but cutting through my tight-fitting t-shirt. Ben went straight for the CDs and Jason wandered to the DVDs, where he started yelling my name at the top of his lungs. I hurried over and told him we were in a library, that he needed to talk softly, and he showed me a DVD and begged me to buy it for him. I informed him we were at a library and could borrow it, and then we went to the CD section where Ben had picked up a folk CD and was hunting for one more. I tried hooking him onto The Black Keys, but he adamantly wanted a Justin Bieber CD instead. I told him that was a poor choice, but he wouldn't listen. When we got to the checkout, he'd forgotten his wallet, didn't know his information, so we had to get a new library card issued. Then we hurried back through the cold, my pale skin spotting orange and purple. Now Jason's watching his new DVD and Justin Bieber is playing loud in the basement. This is my job.

[homo incurvatus in se]

Here's an essay I've been working on. It's NOT on anything related to colonial America. *GASP* The essay principally focuses on humankind's enslavement to sin as seen in Romans 1-3, Romans 7, and Genesis 3-11. 

The Human Predicament by Anthony Barnhart

Devou Park

This afternoon I checked out a local park here in Covington. Devou Park boasts 700 acres with winding nature trails, a golf course, several playgrounds, a lake, and a pretty decent lookout over the city. I remember coming here in early 2009, during my first days living in the Lehman House. I walked over the spot where I stood looking out over the city, thinking about Mandy and how she'd just left Cincinnati, wondering what would become of us and our friendship. Nearly five years later, I'm so thankful that she's still a part of my life, and not just "a" part but THE part. 

I walked down one of the nature trails and diverged into the woods, seeking a spot where I could sit on a fallen log and read scripture and pray. During my college days Mount Echo offered such a sanctuary, and after my Old Testament History class with Dan Dyke, I would go to a secret spot in the woods and drink Ale-8, smoke a cigar, and meditate over what we learned in class. I cherish those moments at Mount Echo, and once I found a decent log and "popped a squat" so-to-speak, the joy of those moments returned. I opened my Bible to the psalms and prayed through Psalm 42, bearing my hopes and fears and anxieties before God. 

Why am I so overwrought?

Why am I so disturbed?

Why can't I just hope in God?

Despite all my emotions, I will believe and praise the One 

who saves me and is my life.

(Psalm 42.5, The Voice)

We all have our weaknesses and struggles. I don't like to wear mine on my sleeve. I try to hide my anxieties from those around me, sharing such struggles only with those closest to me. I am not that way with God. He knows the anxieties that tear through me at times, that sap the joy out of the day, that pierce my heart and turn my blood cold as arctic snow. He knows the way my heart begins to accelerate, how the anxiety makes me feel sick and heavy. He isn't the only one who knows such things; those unseen entities that assail themselves against God, against His people, against creation, these entities know the chinks in my armor, and they aim their claw-tipped arrows where they know it'll hurt the worst. As I come before God bearing a fear-riddled heart, I find that God has come to me ever before I even thought of coming to Him. He reminds me that I am utterly and irrevocably dependent on Him, and He reminds me that not only does He love me, He actually likes me, and He delights in me and cherishes me as a father cherishes a son. He reminds me that He has a plan for me, and not just a plan for me, but a plan for me and Mandy. He hints at that plan without revealing any of the details, and He calls me not to figure everything out but simply to hope in Him, trust in Him, in His providence and power. God is my hope, my rock, my shield, and my help. Just as He meets the psalmist in his own fears and struggles, so He meets me in mine--and He carries me through them. 

Mandy knows my stress, my anxieties. I am vulnerable with her, showing her my weakness. And she comes beside me, helping me in the midst of it all. Her affection, her care, her tenderness, her understanding, her adamance that we are a team, that we will figure it out, that we need to trust God and follow His leading, all of that makes me all the more grateful to be with her. She really is a blessing, and just talking with her about these things, I can see Jesus in her. And I hope that I can be just as supportive, just as helpful, just as comforting to her when she needs it, despite me being a dumb brute of a man. In all my prayers I thank God for her, and not just for her, but for all that she is in and through Him. 

I know I'm moving to Wisconsin. I don't know how it'll all work itself out. I want to figure out every little detail. I want to save up so much money that I'll have no problems getting up there and settling down. I want to find an amazing job that's fulfilling and rewarding. I want everything to work out perfectly, and I agonize over making that happen. God tells me to trust in Him, to trust in His providence; He will provide. And He will. I don't know how He will provide, I don't know what it'll all look like. That's what bothers me. Oftentimes God provides for us in ways that we don't expect, and we shouldn't equate His providence with having an easy going of things. This move will be hard. It will probably be hard financially. It will definitely be hard emotionally. If I don't get the kind of job that I want, if I don't make the amount of money that I want to make, it'll cut at my pride. I'll be saying goodbye to many dear friendships, leaving a community that has sustained me and brought me joy over the past five years. I'll become the "new guy", and though I'm eager to become a part of Mandy's friend group and community, I know enough about how human beings work to know a "new guy" inserting himself into a new group isn't embraced by all. It'll take lots of time and hard work (especially for an introverted guy such as myself) to find and experience the kind of community I have here. I'm excited about moving up to Wisconsin to be with Mandy (more eager than I've ever been to do anything!), but that doesn't mean I'm naive. I know there will be great difficulties, and I'm thankful again that I'll have Mandy at my side through it all.

This won't be easy. It'll be hard. But it will be good. It will be amazing. The word of God cuts through the anxieties, meeting me in my moment of need. He tells me that He has a plan for me, a plan for us, and this is the beginning of that journey. He has intended our union, and He has brought us both to where we need to be for this, for us, to work; and not just "work" in the sense that we can get along and love one another, but "work" in the sense that we, as a man and woman united in Him, can serve Him and advance His kingdom in all the ways He has planned for us. This call to trust in Him when I don't know the outcome, when I know the difficulty that lies ahead, is no different than the call both of us will need to embrace as we seek out His will for us and our family in the coming years. My move to Wisconsin is another step into what He intends for us, and it isn't the final step. There will be a subsequent step, and a step after that, and then another step. Mandy and I don't need to figure everything out right now. That's an impossible task. We simply need to trust God and keep following His leading, His prompting, and go where He calls us to go, knowing that He'll provide the ways and means for each and every step. 

It's my inner instinct to kick against the very idea that God has "a plan" for me, "a plan" for us. But despite my theological doubts, that's precisely what He's telling me--and it's what He's been telling me for years. There have been moments in my life when I've so clearly heard the voice of God, when He's spoken to me and shown me things. I mention these things to others only in ambiguous terms, because all along I haven't known whether or not to trust them. I'm a cynic, after all, and so when there are episodes in my life where I hear God's voice, when He gives me a vision, and if I can't shake them despite the turning of the years, then there must be something to them. When there's a consistent thread running through each, all pointing to this, to us, and when God tells me quite plainly, "I have a plan for you, a plan for the two of you, and I'll bring it to pass," what can I do but trust Him? Sometimes you need to shelve doubts in the light of God's plain speech. Five months ago I never expected God to bring us this far, even though I prayed for Him to do so with clenched fists and passionate pleas. He has already worked wonders, and He will continue to do so. 

In early November of last year, as I was driving to a wedding and feeling pretty glum about how life was shaping up, God spoke to me: "Hope in Me. Trust in Me. Wait on Me--and watch what I will do!" Those words return to me time and time again. God continually calls me to do precisely that, and He has proven faithful and true, and in ways far beyond what I ever expected. 

Trust Yahweh from the bottom of your heart;

don't try to figure out everything on your own.

Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;

He's the one who will make your path straight.

(Proverbs 3.5-6)

[sunday meditations]

1 PETER 1.18-19

…knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.

Belonging to God’s covenant people demands living in honor and obedience before him. Having exhorted the Asia Minor Christians to live in such a manner, St. Peter now reminds them of their privileged status of being ransomed by the blood of Christ.

The concept of ransom is an old one, dating back to the ancient world. In Peter’s day, the Jewish people longed for Messiah to come and deliver them from the oppressing pagan nations. They kept in mind how God had delivered their ancestors, the Hebrews, from Egypt, and they yearned for God to do the same for them. Firmly they believed that Messiah would come and free them from the iron grips of the Roman regime, then make Israel the world’s ruling nation. This is, ultimately, the language of redemption, and ransom closely plays into it.

The one who has been ransomed has been redeemed; the earliest usage of the word comes from the slave markets, where slaves would be ransomed or redeemed—given freedom—for a monetary price. Ransom, and its compatriot redemption, is the language of freedom from slavery, harking straight back to the Exodus. The Jewish people expected a new exodus, this time from Rome instead of Egypt.

But the early Christians understood that the deadliest, most malevolent enemy power wasn’t the Roman Empire but, rather, the indwelling power of sin in a person’s life. The Christian conviction is that the arch-enemy of freedom is sin, and in Christ, sin’s power over a person is broken and dismantled, precisely through Christ’s shed blood.

That sin isn’t just something people do but also something that enslaves and ensnares, corrupts and dehumanizes, is portrayed again and again throughout the New Testament, not least in such texts as Romans 1-3 as well as Romans 7. The greatest redemption and liberation is what the historical Exodus pointed towards all along: Christ defeating and dismantling the enemy power of sin for all those who embrace him in faith and repentance. This redemption, this liberation, is done through ransom: Christians have been bought with a price from their slavery in the metaphorical and spiritual Egypt. God paid the ultimate price with the sacrifice of his son, and this was a sacrifice made not to please the devil (as some medieval theologians would have you believe) but to satisfy his own demand for justice on the part of his fallen image-bearers.

Understanding that the Exodus from Egypt pointed towards a greater deliverance, that being deliverance from the power of sin, makes understanding what Peter says here much easier. Peter says we have been ransomed from “futile ways” that we inherited from our forefathers.

“Futile ways” is a blanket term enveloping all those things—in heart, mind, and deed—which are characterized by death and decay. In other words, they are those things which are characteristic of fallen humanity, patterns of thought and behavior, on both the individual and corporate level, which are at odds with what God demands of his image-bearers, at odds with what genuine human living looks like. These ways are “futile” because they lead nowhere, except to death and destruction. Christ has ransomed his people from them in (at least) two ways: (1) Christians are freed from the legal guilt acquired from such sinful living, thus they don’t have to pay what they owe (since Christ paid it all, as the old hymn goes); and (2) Christians are freed from sin’s enslaving power, filled with the Holy Spirit, and are thus able, as St. Paul puts it in Romans 8, to “fulfill the just requirement of the law.” That is to say, Christians are enabled, not by anything in themselves but by the power at work within them, to live the sort of lives God desires of his people, holy lives that (by definition) stand in stark contrast to fallen modes of living.

“But what does it mean that these futile ways are inherited?” Peter could be speaking of generational sin (how the guilt of sin is, in some theological circles, thought to be passed on generation-to-generation). Or he could be speaking of the doctrine of original sin (how mankind, incorporated into Adam, is in league from conception with Adam’s guilt and rebellion). More likely, Peter is writing about the concept of enslavement to sin (how a person becomes enslaved to sin). Remember: he’s writing to a mostly Gentile church, and the pagan manners of living that had characterized the converts from birth were inherited through the pagan culture in which they lived. How culture influences our character is common knowledge to sociologists, and entire volumes have been written on the subject. However, what science fails to take into account is the nature of evil itself, and how evil is present and working in cultures, and thus inheriting futile ways isn’t just something of the mind, or of one’s upbringing, but of the presence of evil in both culture and within ourselves.

Ultimately, this deliverance, this ransom, takes place not by anything we ourselves do but through what Christ has done in his selfless sacrifice upon the cross. Whereas slaves would be bought with silver and gold coins, that which purchased freedom for God’s people is Christ’s blood. Peter portrays Messiah as a sacrificial victim without defect, as God demanded of sacrifices (Leviticus 1.3, 10; 3.1, 6). Christ’s sacrifice was made, at least on one level, to ransom stranded humanity from the shipwreck of its own making. Because of what Christ has done—that is, shed his precious blood—and because of what we have experienced—redemption from the greatest enemy, the indwelling power of sin—we must live in obedience and honor before him. This text doesn’t emerge out of a vacuum but follows on the heels, and is incorporated into the thought of, the previous verse about living in a manner that is pleasing to God. This is how exiles are to conduct themselves.

OUR THREE MONTH!!!!

All Caps is annoying, and using more than one exclamation mark can be overwhelming; but they convey my excitement and joy at the fact that the Wisconsinite and I have officially been together for three months(!!!!).

Not a day goes by that I don't long to be with her in Wisconsin, for both of us to be starting a "new chapter". Perhaps "chapter" isn't the best word: this, us here and now, that's a "new chapter," but Wisconsin, that's the beginning of a "new life", for both of us. At the end of my chaotic days, when I'm so exhausted and drained, I think of her, and I imagine what it will be like for us up there, and I find myself falling asleep thinking about spending the rest of my life with her. That thought--spending the rest of my life with her--used to be a fantasy, something I sought to extinguish from my hopes and dreams. Those days are passed, and I couldn't be happier.

It's thrilling to be hammering out the practicalities of moving up there: our upcoming engagement, finding an apartment, looking for jobs. I've moved from the realm of fantasizing about our future together to the two of us actually planning out all the practicalities. It's exciting, and stressful; and I'm so encouraged by her constant support, the way she meets me in my stress and knows just how to help.

My love and affection for her does nothing but grow. There's a quick in my step and joy on my face. There's the added strength to each day of knowing she loves me and that we'll be together in person soon enough, embarking on a different epoch in our lives. Two vines growing alone, coming together, intertwining: neither vine is the same, and a stronger, more beautiful, and prosperous vine emerges. I yearn to do ministry side-by-side, and I long to devote myself to her as my primary ministry, to serve her, to sacrifice for her, to protect her, to cultivate her so that she flourishes as the woman God desires her to be. 

There's no inkling of doubt about it: I love her far more than I've ever loved anyone, and I'm eager (but patient) to take her as my wife and build a family with her. To put it in stark and real terms, she's the woman I've dreamed of, the woman I've longed for, the woman for whom I've prayed for as long as I've dreamt of being a husband and a father. All those years praying for my "unnamed future wife" have coalesced onto her, and I'm so dumbstruck at how blessed I am to call such a beautiful, godly, sincere, affectionate, and supportive woman the One I love and the One I with whom I'm going to share my life and have children. I thank God morning, day, and night for her, and that's not a thankfulness that will cease. 

a day late and too many dollars short

It's National Sibling Day! What better day (other than the day after, of course) to shower your amazing younger sister with photogenic love? Since she really only reads this blog to skim for her name, I'm sure this will make her day. I LOVE YOU, AMS! And since no one really reads my blog anymore (including myself), I can use it as a tablet for personal messages. So, again: I LOVE YOU!

sunset gazing & the Pepper Pod

Mandy H. and I spent the evening hanging out. We sat on the roof of Bakewell looking out into the trees and to the Cincinnati skyline beyond. She and Isaac are heading out to Portland at the end of the month, but not until after making a round-the-way trip up New England and across Canada, then down into Montana. Sight-seeing and camping for three weeks, how can you not love that idea? "You'd better walk the Freedom Trail in Boston!" We both agreed we'll miss Cincinnati when we head out-of-state. The city's definitely a lot nicer now than it was when I moved here in 2005. I'm excited about "country living" in the upcoming stage of my life, but there will be days when I miss all that Cincinnati has to offer, not least The Anchor.

After watching the sunset on the rooftop, we went across town to Newport. There's a little cafe there called The Pepper Pod. It's basically Newport's version of The Anchor, and a long-standing rivalry exists between the two diners. We drank coffee and talked about how different things have become for all of us within less than a year. Our traditional "friend group" broke apart, now we're all too busy to hang out that often, Mandy and Isaac are heading to Portland, and I'm setting off for Wisconsin in the next couple months. I updated her on everything with the Wisconsinite and me, and she couldn't restrain her excitement. She radiated joy knowing how awesome everything is going. "You've loved her for so long, you've wanted only her for so long, and this is what you've wanted!" There are still days I'm blown away by it all, how lucky and blessed and privileged I am to be with the Wisconsinite. This kind of excitement is better shared, and I enjoyed sharing it over coffee and conversation.