the dayton days XVII

Monday. I worked 7-3:00, and then Jobst and I met up at Bob Evan's and got lunch and then went to Cox Arboretum and smoked our pipes. We parted ways after a coffee run. Dylan and Tyler came over, and we went by Spring Valley and CVS and then sat on the front porch talking and laughing until we cried late into the night. "What do you want to do with your life?" Tyler asked. I didn't answer because I don't know.

Tuesday. I had the day off work, and Jessie came up from Cincinnati. We fixed eggs, bacon, and toast for dinner, then went to Cox Arboretum and took lots of great pictures. She headed back to Cincinnati, and I worked out and read N.T. Wright for a bit, talked to Jess Lynn. "You should just cut Sarah out of your life," she said. That's what everyone's saying. But I don't know how to do it, what it would look like. And if I do it, I want to tell her why, that it's because she's consistently lied to me and hurt me more than any friend has, that she's manipulated everyone into believing she's trying to change, raising fake signposts and lying about the REAL change that must happen. It's because of the pain our friendship has brought and continues to bring, and it's because she's been faithless to me and she doesn't deserve my care. "It's FUBAR," I told Jess Lynn. Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

Wednesday. I opened the store with J.J., Jessica, Suzan, and Tony. I spent the afternoon studying at Centerville Starbucks with some espresso. Jess Lynn headed to Italy today. "I'll talk to you in two weeks!" she said; "I love you!" It was weird. I had Chipotle for dinner and then some ice cream. I got more info on Sarah and Keith. Definitely still together, definitely still having sex, and everything's she told me about her "relationship with God", about wanting to get things back on track, is absolute bullshit. Surprise, surprise. Dylan came over and we sat on the front porch, talked about all this. "Dude," he said. "You just need to cut the cord. Calling her to repentance and being there to help her and encourage her is honorable. But don't forget what you said." And what did I say? I said I'd do what Mike suggested on April 23rd: if she repents, stand by her side; if she doesn't, then end the friendship. She's faked her repentance, but she's been found out. 

Thursday. I talked to Mandy K. for a bit last night. She's going through a rough time, too, worse than mine. I gave her some wise advice from Dan Dyke, and she said, "You're going to be just like him. You're already so much like him in so many ways." Hell of a compliment. I worked 1-9:30. A HUGE storm came in and threw one of our umbrellas into the empty field to the south, and Forrest and I got soaked retrieving it. It was a helluva task. Chris, Lee and Andrea came in and after work I hung out with them for a bit. I just got back inside after listening to the rain and watching lightning-bugs on the front porch.

Life is good.

My life is good.

I can't believe I wrote that.

And meant it.

Friday. I had the day off work, and after a morning of studying Christian eschatology--"The Cosmic Hope", if you will (sure, I will)--Tyler came over, and we got Greek for lunch and talked about repentance in the context of new creation. We also talked about Sarah, but not much: nothing new to report. We played Wii and he went to a friend's house. He has a date tonight. I went to Stubb's Park and read for a while. I was going to pick up Mandy from the airport (she's been in L.A.) but her flight was delayed until 3 AM, so Rob got her after he closed at Refuge in Cincinnati. I went to the Starbucks in Oakwood for a bit, got depressed, walked around and prayed, and headed home.

Saturday. I worked 12-8:30. The power went out at 6:00, so we closed shop. Lourdes, Betsy, Aubree and I scurried around closing all the refrigerators. The store lost LOTS of money. Sarah told me her cousin thinks I'm legitimately crazy. I want to be perceived as crazy: a man who acknowledges the harshness of reality but who has a grasp on the future and celebrates the inauguration of that future in the present. I want to be someone not easily forgotten nor easily understood.

Sunday. Dewenter, Ams and I went to M.C.C. for church. The sermon was on the final days of Moses' life. We went to China Cottage for lunch. Ams, in town this weekend, said, "You look like such a little kid, you've lost so much weight!" I worked 2-9:00 with Betsy, Aubree, Faith, Mandy, and Abby. Tyler & Ams came in, so I gave them free drinks. Tyler came over after work. We sat on the porch and talked eschatology. The subject of Sarah came up (as it tends to do these days). "I'm glad you've decided to cut her out of your life," she said. "She's like an infection to you. And you know what? She's not someone worth pursuing. She's a liar, cheater, manipulator, slut. She complains about her life while living according only to the passions of her flesh. You deserve better. I think, maybe, God kept her from liking you despite your prayers because he loves you and cares for you and honestly wants more for you. Being with her wouldn't enhance your life: in the end, it'd ruin it. And honestly, after all she's done and continues to do, I'm surprised you've fought so hard to remain her friend. Maybe it means I;m a bad person, but I would've dropped her a while ago." No, not bad: wise.

This evening (Sunday) I went on a drive through the countryside and prayed. Mist everywhere, cloaking everything. Like Habakkuk, I cried out to God: "Why?"

Why do those who don't give a damn about God find themselves clothed in his blessings?

Why do those who live according to the flesh seem to enjoy peace and prosperity?

Why do I seek to honor and please God, and yet my prayers go unanswered?

He brought several things to mind:

1. This world isn't my home, and I shouldn't expect it to be.

2. I'm undeserving of anything I pray for, so I shouldn't bitch about it.

3. Judgment on the wicked is coming.

4. Vindication of the righteous is on the doorstep.

5. Trust in God. Hope in God. And Keep Going.

an habakkuk

Tonight I went for a drive down old country roads with mist crawling amidst the trees and the aged cobblestone walls. Much has been weighing heavy upon me. I look round about this world and I perceive that those who don't give a damn about God and who live by their own passions and seek their own glorification seem to have their dreams handed to them on silver platters. And like Habakkuk, I cry out to know why. I drove the winding streets with the windows rolled down and the wind in my hair and I thought about all the people I know who are so happy with their lives and it seems that whatever they want they get and I'm stuck in the same place I've been for years. And I asked God why this is so. I asked him why those who care only for themselves seem to have life made, while those who forsake themselves and pursue a life of devotion to God are met with tragedies and disappointments all along the way. Obviously I am making this more black-and-white than it is, and the theological answers to such a question are numerous, but amidst the situation itself the world grows dark and the answers feel numb. And as I prayed, I remembered several things.

This world is not our home. Before it becomes apparent that I am a platonic dualist, let me state what I mean quite clearly: while I do believe creation is good and will ultimately be restored, and while I believe that those who are "in Christ"--those who have devoted themselves to him and his kingdom and who have transferred from the old age to the new age through baptism--will not only be part of the restoration but will also dwell amidst the restoration and be active participants of it, the world in its current state is not our home. We are sojourners, aliens, exiles. The New Testament clearly states this. As such, in this world polluted and stained and infected with sin, a world that is apparently dominated by evil, a world where injustice and unfairness (the two go hand-in-glove) reign, we are not of its kind. Our citizenship is in heaven, as Paul says quite flagrantly. And yet the question itself--a very legitimate question--assumes that God's kingdom is fully here, that God's kingdom of justice and renewal is already totally in place. This is not so, and we are foolish if we expect that the world will operate according to a new age that while, breaking in, has not yet fully arrived.

Judgment is coming. Judgment--the making of all things right, which includes the vindication of what is righteous, the punishment of that which is evil, and the restoration of that which is innately good--is on the doorstep. There are moments when God's judgment breaks into the present: the vindication of a man accused of wrong, the tragedy besetting a man who has set himself up against God, flowers bursting forth in a junkyard. These are not just signs of the coming judgment but foretastes and breaking-ins of that judgment. But the day of God's beautiful judgment--not beautiful in the sense of a sadist leaping up and down at the falling of the people whom he doesn't like, but beautiful in the sense that it will thrust beauty back into the world again and deal with all the accumulating injustices of all sorts that have spawned and prospered in the current world--is coming. Looking round about a world full of wicked people living prosperous and joyous lives, I can take comfort in the fact that their judgment is coming: that they'll be shown for who they are, that their deeds will be uncovered, and they'll be dealt with accordingly. Some will say that a person who hopes for this does not really know the love of God. Never mind that love intimately involves not only mercy but justice as well. Never mind that a world without judgment is a world that blasphemously declares that not much must matter to God. Never mind that a world without judgment thus vindicates the wicked. Those who scoff at the idea of judgment, and those who condemn others who long for judgment, either do not understand the nature of judgment or they have never been face-to-face with such atrocities that a plea for God's judgment is the only natural response. The Old Testament is filled with psalms crying out for God's judgment, the New Testament encourages believers to find hope in coming judgment, and the whole of the Bible longs and years for judgment--not just as the means by which the truly wicked are punished, but also as the means by which the universe is restored to its pristine originality and the righteous in Christ are vindicated before their mocking and scoffing enemies. The coming judgment brings me encouragement. A day is coming when judgment will take place: and on that day those who used and abused others, those who lived for their own glories, will be brought down to their knees before God in submission, submitting in fear and terror and regret. And those who are God's people will be vindicated not on their own basis but on their faith in Jesus.

Hope in God. Perhaps this was an answer to prayer, God's quite voice amidst the whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. But as I prayed, I felt as if God were telling me, "Hope in Me." A hope placed in God is not a hope placed in this world. And for what am I to hope? I am to place my hope in that coming era when judgment happens, when evil is punished for what it is and the righteous are vindicated. I am to hope for that day when God's new creation bursts forth in a vibrant display of life and vitality and wonder and awe and beauty. I am to hope for that day when, as that song goes, "I'll be done with the troubles of this world." Hope in God does not mean that in hoping in Him and trusting in Him (the two go together) that everything in my life will turn around and be exactly what I want it to be. This is not what the scriptures teach. This is what we would expect in a world where God's kingdom is fully known--and it is what we can expect when that day finally comes--but now, where God's kingdom is here but not yet, when the new age has arrived but not fully, those who hope in God and trust in God are often assaulted with all sorts of tragedies. And yet their hope--our hope--is certain if it is accurately placed. Those who hope in God--and hope for what they are supposed to hope for--will not be disappointed.

a good weekend

The weekend thus far has been pretty interesting. I had Friday off, and Tyler and I grabbed some gyros at the local Greek restaurant and then went home to play some Wii. I spent the night alone at the house writing and reading and drinking exuberant amounts of coffee. I went to the Starbucks in Oakwood to check out their renovations--it's quite nice--and drank four shots of espresso in preparation for picking Mandy up from the airport (she's been in L.A. for the past week); right after I took the shots roulette-style, she called and the plane was delayed several hours, which meant her husband would be picking her up. So I was up till about 3:00--espresso never affects me when I want it to and always affects me when I don't want it to--tossing and turning in bed. I had some weird dreams and then woke up and worked till 8:30 yesterday, and Pat Dewenter came over and Amanda's in town and Anna swung by. This morning Pat and I went to M.C.C. (second time) and it was really good. We did the usual Sunday tradition of China Cottage, and he's headed up to Dayton to work on some printing projects and I'm going to lounge around and work out before my 2-9:00 shift.

Yesterday at work was crazy. The power went out and we had to close the store at 6:00. I drove by this morning and things seemed to be hopping, so apparently DP&L showed up sometime overnight and fixed the problem, thank God. We lost a lot of business and a lot of money, which is never good. Here is another picture I took in the wetlands last Monday, I think (I never can remember):

stupid bumper stickers

I love it when I'm driving down the road and there's a stoplight and I pull up close enough to see the bumper sticker on the back of the car in front of me. Sometimes they're funny and sometimes they're foolish. As a general rule, the Christian ones are foolish. I saw one today that said: "Jesus--Don't Leave Earth Without Him!" which buys into the platonic and gnostic idea that heaven is a destruction of the earth and all the redeemed will dwell in a supra-spiritual realm of ethereal spirits. It's quite un-Christian. But I digress. I wish I had my camera with me so I could take a picture, but oh well. Instead I will offer to you one of the most common ones seen out there. This buys into "rapture" theology which is seen nowhere in scripture. The Latin Vulgate translated one of the Greek words in 1 Thessalonians 4 as rapio, "caught up," which is derived from the Latin rapere, meaning "to seize/abduct." This lends to a theologically inaccurate understanding of the text, which speaks of something entirely different. But I digress. Here is the infamous bumper sticker:

My immediate feeling when seeing this is a feeling of critique. It's in my nature to critique anything labeled "Christian" from a theological perspective, and immediately I critique this on biblical grounds. That critique--"This is stupid."--quickly becomes annoyance. Annoyance at the strange beliefs many Christians have and how Christians just swallow up the theology (if you can call it that) fed to them by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins (what I call LaHayan and Jenkinian theology). The annoyance quickly becomes a bitter anger: anger because such bumper stickers make us look stupid (although a more intense anger is experienced with those "testamints", mints with Bible verses on them so you can "evangelize" as you pass out mints). I see this proclamation of the car being unmanned at the rapture and I want to say, "No, your car will be unmanned when I drag your ass out of it and beat you for being a freaking idiot." Now I must say humility in this matter is not mine, and I confess that. In the knowledge that I am often wrong in my knowledge, I should get a bumper sticker like this one:

a framework for repentance

Understanding repentance--what it is (and is not) and why it is necessary--is a futile pursuit without understanding the context of repentance, namely, its placement within the gospel and, in addition, the gospel's placement within the ultimate story of God. The gospel--understood to be the proclamation of Christ crucified and resurrected--only finds meaning within the ultimate story of God, namely a story of redemption and renewal. At the expense of simplifying something quite complex, the story of God begins in Genesis 1 and culminates at the end of Revelation. It is a story of creation, spoiled creation, and then renewed/restored creation. By creation I refer not just to nature and the cosmos--everything from millipedes to swirling galaxies--but the whole of creation, including man itself. Thanks be to sin for the current state of spoil and corruption; the ultimate plan of God is reconciling all things to Himself, Christianese language speaking of God making everything right again. That's the ultimate purpose of God, and he is doing it through Christ. Christ's resurrection inaugurated the dawning of the new age--the beginning of the restoration--and his "return" or "second coming" or "appearing" will be the great victory against evil and death and will be the moment when the new age dawns brilliantly and fully. The gospel proclamation--of Christ crucified and resurrected--finds its home within this story; specifically, it is Christ who has inaugurated this new age in the present, and Christians are those who have already stepped into this new age, indwelt by the Spirit of Christ as the down-payment and guarantee of our final resting place in the renewed creation. Obviously I am simplifying all this a great deal, but this post is not about that so much as it is repentance.

Repentance--what it is--is essentially a "change of mind," a change in one's mental disposition towards something. Specifically, it is a change in disposition towards God. No matter the processes that spurn repentance, a person repents in the biblical sense when he puts his allegiance in Christ--the bare-bones meaning of faith--and forsakes his own kingdom for the kingdom of God (another Christianese word which refers to the rule of God, experienced presently in part and fully in the future). Thus repentance is basically "stepping into" the new age, living it in the present. The benefits of repentance are experienced in the present and the future. In the present, repentance rescues us from the foolish pursuits and lifestyles of the world and the obvious consequences therein; and in the future, repentance is that which grants us grace so that we can take share in our inheritance in the renewed cosmos. This is all quite simplified, and I'm going to sketch it out in greater detail, though probably not on this blog.

Basically, I am a firm believer that any study of repentance--or, for that matter, faith, to which repentance is, in Jewish thought, the "first half"--must not simply make room for the story of God and the gospel but make its home within it.

of umbrellas and enlightenments

During work a massive storm came through. The wind picked up one of the umbrellas on the patio and hurled it fifty feet through the air and into the field beside the cafe. Forrest and I ran out into the hammering rain and chased after it. Once we reached it we both grabbed the pole and tried to carry it but the wind kept circling inside the umbrella and carrying us this way and that. Eventually we got it back to the patio and only then did we realize we were stupid and could've just closed it. So we closed it and set it down and went inside and were soaking wet through the rest of the evening. When it rains things are pretty slow, so we both got to go home early. An old friend and his fiance came into the cafe--General Lee!--and his brother Chris showed up so after work I hung out with them for a bit. Now I'm at home and overcome with many thoughts mixed with a concoction of sorrow and resolve. Enlightenment can be such a bitch, especially when the enlightenment deals with something that you're not supposed to know and no one else knows. So you can't talk about it to anyone, unless you speak in code, and it's nightmarish.

I have work off tomorrow. Dylan is in Tennessee now and will be till Tuesday. Tyler is going to come over and we're going to grab a meal and play Mario Kart and enjoy good conversation and, perhaps, beer as well. Maybe I will talk to him about everything that has been going down. I'm sure his response will be what everyone else's response--not knowing this specific "enlightenment" but the situation in general--has been: to "cut the cord." All friendships die, either fizzling out slowly or being brutally murdered. In this case, everyone suggests I brutally murder the friendship. I haven't really been on board with that idea--for a number of reasons--but this enlightenment seems to reveal what I knew to be true all along: they were right.

my week thus far

On Monday I spent some good time with my friend Jobst. We grabbed dinner at Bob Evans and then went to a local park to smoke our pipes. We sat on the rocks beside the creek and talked about all sorts of stuff and finished the evening off with some coffee from Starbucks. He headed home (he's in Colorado for several days), and Dylan and Tyler came by the house. Dylan used my discount to get a free pound of coffee and a French press. We sat on the porch late into the night laughing and smoking. Yesterday Jessie came up from Cincinnati and we made eggs, toast, and bacon for dinner and went to Cox Arboretum and walked around and took lots of pictures. We went down this path through the prairie and the sun cut through the trees and I took a picture (below). We went out onto this dock with open windows and watched baby turtles swimming in the wetlands. It was great to see her.

I just got off work a little bit ago, and I'm going to eat an early dinner and then go to the park to read some more of N.T. Wright. I'm thinking Stubb's Park, because I haven't been there in a while; and they have great spots for reading. It seems everyone is going somewhere now that summer has (although not technically until the end of June) arrived. Kyle is in Hawaii and then hopping a plane to Australia. Jobst is in Colorado. Dylan is going down to Georgia. My friend Mandy is going to Wisconsin, my other friend Mandy is in L.A. (she ran into Michael Cera), and my friend Jess is leaving for Italy today. Goodness. My life continues to be un-exciting in Centerville, Ohio. But I can't complain, really.